A really wild storm swept through the city in the middle of the night. We'd been warned that a storm was coming but we'd all assumed your everyday type of bad weather. What we hadn't expected was a small knot of winds that were reaching hurricane levels hitting out of the blue in the middle of the storm and then vanishing again, their work done. Just a freak occurrence, said the weather bureau. These things happen.
They sure do, and guess who has to get out there in the middle of the night and do emergency repairs. The poor bastards who volunteer for the emergency services, that's who. Unfortunately, I was one of these poor bastards and most of the damage seemed to be in my area. I was up in the small hours and out in the truck, fighting the normal storm to put up canvas on roofs that had lost tiles, cutting away trees blocking the roads, waiting for the utility guys to turn off power so we could cut down trees lying across power lines. All the normal stuff caused by a nasty storm.
I'd been lucky and gone to bed early, so I had gotten a few hours of sleep. As it was after spending half the night and all day running around doing emergency work those few hours were proving insufficient and I was totally buggered and happy to be heading home. I had two days of stubble on my face and I was dirty and grimy and felt it. There was no way I was going to cook myself a proper meal once I got home so I swung past the mall for a couple of frozen dinners. Microwave and eat was the way to go.
I was walking back to where I'd parked my car, just idling along. Couldn't have hurried to save my live, I was so beat. There were a couple of young women walking through the car park in front of me. Attractive little things but I wasn't even able to raise enough enthusiasm to eye them off.
I did notice that they both turned and looked at me a couple of times but I was damned if I knew why. Cleaned up and dressed in non-work clothes I would have to say that yes, women sometimes look, and I look back. In my current state I'd have expected them to shudder and move away quickly.
I was getting near my car and started walking faster. At the same time I pulled out my car-key and flicked it open, automatically hitting the door release as I did so. That's when things happened and didn't happen.
What didn't happen was that my car didn't flash its lights to say hi, I'm unlocked. I'd been meaning to change the battery on the key but had kept putting it off. Not a real problem as I could unlock manually; just an irritant that served me right for being lazy.
What did happen was that the two young ladies turned into screaming, hitting, kicking, scratching, viragos, with me as the target for all their hostility. They came at me so hard and fast that, for all my size, they actually knocked me down, which is where the kicking came into it.
I'm thinking what the hell, and scrambling to get away from them. I couldn't really get into a punch up with them, not unless I was prepared to put them into hospital. A man my size landing a deliberate punch on either one of those young ladies would have broken bones and the cops and a judge would never understand.
They weren't content to just chase me off for whatever reason. They came after me, still screaming and trying to hit and kick. I reached my car and vaulted over it to the driver's side, cursing my unresponsive key. I manually unlocked and dived in, slamming the door and locking it.
I took out my phone and took a couple of shots of the girls before ringing the cops and reported the attempted mugging. An ongoing attempt, I pointed out, as the girls were still hanging around the car, yelling and banging on the windows. They were going to break a window at the rate they were going. I started the engine and then found out I couldn't back out as the girls were standing in my way. Having the inclination, but not the heart, to run them over I stayed where I was and waited for them to leave.
They didn't leave but the cops arrived. There must have been a car nearby, which was fortunate. The cops got out of their car and I did the same, moving slowly and making sure my hands were in plain sight. I didn't want any misunderstandings.
The girls promptly complained to the cops that I'd attacked them. I'd followed them from the shops, they said, and tried to jump them. I politely waited until they'd finished yapping and then gave my version of the events.
I politely pointed out that the girls didn't have a single bruise between them, which fact didn't apply to me. I was simply walking from the shop over there, pointing to the relevant shop, to my car, which is here. As you can see, I walked the most direct route to my car. Just before I reached my car the women attacked me. Hence my bruises, grazes and bleeding head.
"He's lying," one of the girls shouted. "He pulled a knife on us. He's got a switchblade."
"I pulled a key, because I intended to get in my car and drive away," I said repressively. "I don't have a knife on me. Neither is there one in the car. The pair of you can testify I haven't had a chance to hide one anywhere else. I'm quite willing to have the police check both me and my car for knives."
The police were very polite about it but they did frisk me and check the car. No knife.
"Might I point out that I was the one who called the police, not the young ladies who are now screaming victim? You can check my phone. May I also point out that there is a CCTV camera just up there which probably filmed the entire incident? I think you'll find out that it supports my story, not theirs."
The young ladies were starting to realise that they'd made a small mistake. The obvious thing to do when you know you're in the wrong is to attack.
"Well, it looked like you had a knife. You just flashed it out but didn't unlock a car. If you'd unlocked a car we'd have known you were getting in it, not attacking us."
"Flat battery in the key. Also, I might have been unlocking a car you couldn't see from where you were. How would you know? You just wanted an excuse to assault someone. That time of the month, is it?"
"It's not our fault. You look like a deadbeat. We thought you were a junkie."
"I've been out with emergency services for the last twenty hours cleaning up after the storm damage. I'm so sorry I didn't have time to shower and shave before coming home but our trucks don't have bathrooms attached."
One in the eye for the girls but the cops weren't surprised. They'd already spotted the emergency services equipment and jacket in the car. One reason why they were predisposed to believe me.
"It would appear that you attacked this man without justification," one of the cops said. "Do you, sir, want to press charges?"
"I'd love to," I said, "but I won't. I want to get home and get cleaned up and grab some sleep. I do not want to waste my time dealing with idiots. I'd appreciate it if you'd just spank them for me and keep them out of my way."
I gave one of the cops my details and they let me go. In the meantime the other cop was having a quiet word with the girls who were not looking happy.
I went home for food, shower, and bed, in that order. The shave I left until the morning.
The next day I received a call from the cops. Ever thorough, they had gone and checked the CCTV footage just to ensure that things had gone down the way I said. The incident was closed as far as they were concerned.
"OK. Thank you for your rapid response, yesterday. I don't suppose you actually spanked the girls?"
"Only verbally, sir."
"Pity, but I guess police powers are somewhat limited at times."
"We did suggest the girls ring you and apologise."
"And that's likely to happen. Thank you again."
I hung up and dismissed the incident. Well, nearly dismissed it. I looked at the photos of the girls on my phone. I had a funny feeling that I'd seen them before. Finally I shrugged it off as irrelevant. I'd probably seen them at the mall. They were quite attractive and I tend to notice attractive young things. They were also not going to apologise as I received no calls or text messages.
- - -
A week passed and I'd completely forgotten about the mall incident when I received an invite from a new neighbour. I vaguely remember them moving in across the road a few days before the storm. He was having a house-warming barbecue and inviting the neighbours so that he could get to know us. I live in a small cul-de-sac of half a dozen houses so the idea seemed reasonable.
On the Saturday afternoon I cleaned up, donned some nice casual clothes and wandered over to say hullo. I introduced myself to Mike and he in turn introduced me to Janet, his wife, and Rhonda, his daughter. His wife seemed very nice and his daughter I already knew, although she didn't seem to recognise me. Does getting punched in the face make the attacker more memorable?
Rhonda was one of the two young lovelies who'd jumped me in the car-park. I idly wondered where her partner in crime was. Seeing Rhonda didn't recognize me I saw no reason to enlighten her. What she didn't know might just come back to haunt her.
I helped myself to the available food and, grabbing a beer, wandered around talking to the various neighbours. My chance to contribute something meaningful to the conversation came when one of the old women was whining about a burglary. It didn't happen to her, but a friend of a relation knew someone who'd been burgled. You know the sort of thing. The old dear just liked to complain.
"You can't be too careful," I said. "There was some guy get mugged at the mall last week. Just walking along, minding his own business, and bang, two feral females attacked him. Probably junkies wanting some quick cash for their next fix."
The old biddies in the group tsk, tsked, and wondered what the world was coming to.
"Was the poor man hurt?" one asked.
"Apparently he cracked his skull a good one when he got knocked down. Finished up having to go to emergency for stitches." I shook my head mournfully. "It's a crying shame what some of these young people get up to."
I could see Rhonda in my peripheral vision. She was rather pale and giving me furious looks. Still didn't recognize me, which I found quite surprising. How much of a hint did she want? Maybe I looked really disreputable that day.
That was how things stood when a late-comer rolled up. A pretty young thing, about twenty, was my guess. Rhonda made a bee-line for her partner in crime, talking urgently. I had a pretty good idea of what she was saying.
I saw this lovely lass looking in my direction and I smiled. Her eyes opened wide in instant recognition. Somewhat more observant that Rhonda, I guess. She said something short and sharp to Rhonda and she spun around to look at me, eyes opening wide and face going a nice embarrassed red.
Her friend came marching over towards me and I drifted a little away from the crowd to give us an illusion of privacy.
"What stitches?" she demanded. "Show me."
"Ah, and you would be?"
"This is Sandra, a friend of mine," Rhonda said quickly. "Ah, Sandra, this is Roy. He lives across the road."
"Oh, yes, I remember you. You were here the other week helping out when Mike was moving in. How do you do?" I politely inquired.
"Fine. The stitches?"
"I'm sorry. What stitches are we talking about?"
"The stitches you received after the mugging," she stated, putting finger quotes around the word mugging.
"I didn't have any stitches. I was just repeating a rumour," I protested.
"Starting one, more likely. What do you intend doing?"
"Doing? About what?"
