A Hero's Reward (22 page)

“Because he's scared, because he got hurt so badly the first
time he was married that he's scared to try again. At least that's
what I think. I'll wait for quite a while longer if I have to. I
might even work up enough courage to ask him myself eventually
although that would take lots more guts than I have right now.”

“Do you think you could help me find my snow gear? Maybe I
will go out there, even if it's only to get a good snowball shot at
dad.”

“Sure Ellen, let's get you set to go outside.”

Margaret sat on the couch, watching Greg and the children play in
the front yard. Ellen did indeed get her snowball shot at Greg, and
she hit him too. Ellen immediately found herself under counter fire
from snowballs thrown by Greg and the other two children since she
had interrupted them while rolling the head for the third snowman
they were building.

Margaret was smiling and softly laughing as she watched the four
of them playing in the snow. She momentarily regretted the fact that
she didn't have any clothes suitable to go out and join them herself.
She teared up for a moment when she realized that they were building
five snowmen. One very large, one just large, one much smaller than
the other two, and the final two growing smaller still from the
third. She was pretty sure it was supposed to be the five of them.
Her suspicions were confirmed when Jack stood next to the smallest
snowman and trimmed a couple inches off the top so it was his own
height exactly.

When they finally came in, Margaret had water hot and ready to
make hot chocolates all around, including for Greg and herself.

“I figure you got to play with the kids in the snow, you
should get the same treat that they did.”

Greg mocked looking indignant and pointed at Margaret's cup.

“Hey, I should get some reward for making it, shouldn't I?”

Greg grinned and gave Margaret a huge, wet, snowy hug.

“Greg!” she exclaimed.

“Well, I figured you told us we deserved hot chocolate
because we were playing in the snow. Now you deserve it also since
you got to play with some snow.”

Margaret laughed out loud at him before pushing him towards the
living room.

“All of you, out there now. Take your snowy stuff off out
near the front door and let it dry out.”

Greg returned to the kitchen after he divested himself of coat and
boots. The children were with him and they claimed their hot
chocolates and headed to the basement. Greg remained, sipping his own
cocoa.

“It's stopped snowing so after the plows go by the kids and
I are going to go to the hardware store and pick out their paneling.
I've got the next four days off so I'll have plenty of time to get it
put in. I may even be done by Friday night and we could have another
date Saturday if you'd like.”

“I'd like that a lot.”

“Anyhow I thought I'd ask you if you wanted to join us.”

“No thank you, but I will use that time to change the sheets
in all the bedrooms without the children being here. Anytime I try to
clean anything in their rooms they're right there saying 'don't touch
that' or 'where'd you put this?'. I'll try to be in and out of their
rooms before you get home.”

“Are you sure? I hate the idea of you working in the house
all day while the rest of us are out having fun.”

“Greg, if you've ever sounded more like a stereotypical
male, I haven't heard it. Sorry, but going to the hardware store
isn't my idea of fun.”

“Okay then, is there anything you'd like to do today that
isn't work?”

“How about you and I watch a movie together this evening
when the kids go downstairs to watch something of their own? That
would be fun for me.”

“We can certainly do that, is there any type you'd prefer to
watch? I can stop by the Redbox while I'm out.”

“No, we'll pick something from your collection. I might
actually be in the mood for one of your action adventure movies
tonight.”

“Alright then, it's a date. Well, not really but you know
what I mean.”

Margaret sighed:

“Oh you. Go on, get out of here and make sure the children
haven't gotten snow all over everything out in the living room. I'll
start some soup so you all have a warm lunch.”

“Your wish is my command.” Greg tossed back over his
shoulder as he headed into the living room.

“If only.” Margaret sighed under her breath.

In the middle of lunch Greg heard the plows going by out on the
street. The unmistakeable noise of the plow grinding on the pavement
went by twice so he thought they must have fully cleared the street
in both directions. After lunch he went outside and checked. He found
that the street was clear of most of the snow and had been sanded as
well.

As soon as he was back inside he called out:

“Okay kids, who wants to help pick out the paneling for the
basement?”

All three children showed up within moments. Greg had them grab
their coats and they all headed out for the truck. He got the three
children buckled in and started up the engine.

“Alright, while we're at the store, you're all staying right
near me, right?”

“Yes dad.” Ellen said in a slightly aggravated tone.

“Yes daddy.” Christine pipe up.

“You got it Uncle Greg.” Jack chimed in.

Greg put the truck in gear and cautiously drove to the hardware
store. The children took what seemed like forever to agree on a
single style of paneling but after they did Greg got it purchased and
loaded quickly. He buckled everyone back in the truck and they headed
home.

When Greg turned onto his own street he started getting nervous.
There was an unfamiliar car in his driveway. As he approached closer
he saw that the two largest snowmen in the front yard had been
destroyed and the front door to the house was hanging open.

He whipped the truck into the end of the driveway:

“Kids, stay in the car. I think there's something wrong.”
he said, throwing his door open.

Greg jumped out of the truck and sprinted into the house. He
didn't look behind him or he would've seen the children ignoring his
order and piling out of the truck to chase after him.

As soon as he entered the house, Greg heard loud voices upstairs.

“You tried to kick me in the balls you bitch! I was just
going to kill you but now I'm going to fuck you first. Wearing those
fancy ass clothes makes you look like a slut so I'm going to treat
you like one.”

Margaret's voice was as shrill as Greg had ever heard it:

“You're not going to touch me Freddy. If you're smart you'll
leave right now. When I heard you break into the house I called those
FBI agents you met. If you try to touch me, I'll kick you again in
the same place, only I'll aim better and kick harder this time.”

A torrent of curses rang out through the house as Greg was
charging up the stairs. He ran down the hallway and found that the
voices were coming from inside his bedroom.

He skidded to a stop and looked inside. Freddy was trying to
corner Margaret in the room. It looked like a struggle had taken
place all the way through the room already. Some of the furniture was
overturned, other pieces looked as though they'd been thrown. The
mattress was half off of the bed and Margaret was just scrambling off
of it on the far side from Freddy. Freddy was trying to follow her
across the mattress but as he tried to climb up the side that had
fallen off the bed, the unsupported mattress buckled under him,
dumping him on his ass.

“Freddy!” Greg's voice roared out, filling the small
room.

Freddy turned to look and snarled at Greg:

“Oh mister high and mighty arm grabber. Mister you aren't a
real human being. Let's see how you like this.”

Freddy stood and pulled a knife from inside his coat. Then he
started advancing on Greg. Greg pulled his coat off of his right arm
and torso, wrapping it around his left arm as Freddy approached him.
When Freddy slashed at him with the knife, Greg blocked with his left
arm. The knife cut the coat open but didn't reach his skin. Greg
feinted a lunge at Freddy, who stepped back a couple of steps. Greg
stepped into the bedroom. Now he could move, which he couldn't have
done while he was still in the doorway.

Freddy started trying to circle Greg before realizing that there
wasn't enough room to get all the way around him. He slashed again
and once more Greg blocked with his protected arm. This time, Greg
stepped in and swung his right fist at Freddy's arm. Freddy tried to
back off again but he discovered that there was a wall behind him,
stopping his retreat. Greg stepped in to keep Freddy trapped against
the wall and Freddy started repeatedly lunging with the knife, trying
to drive Greg back a step. Greg stayed just out of reach and moved to
block when Freddy tried to step out into an area that would give him
more space.

Greg thought that Freddy was now accustomed to him just blocking
with his left arm and it was time to try something different that
might end the fight. Eventually Freddy stopped lunging and tried to
step in and slash. This time Greg took the slash on his coat but then
he opened his left hand, letting the coat hang free, and grabbed
Freddy's wrist on the side holding the knife. Greg squeezed as hard
as he could and when Freddy still didn't drop the knife Greg twisted,
hard. The knife dropped to the floor and Greg gave it a kick. It
ended up lying in front of a window, well out of reach of the
combatants.

Now that the odds were a bit more even Greg started going on the
offensive. He took Freddy's arm and drove it behind his back, similar
to the fashion he had in their last encounter. This time he didn't
stop until he heard a 'pop' that let him know Freddy's arm was
dislocated. Freddy was kicking backwards, striking Greg's shins and
thighs repeatedly but Greg ignored the pain and drove Freddy's head
into the wall. He knew there was a stud right in front of him since
there was a picture hanging on the wall just above them, rocking
precariously with each impact. So he drove Freddy's head into the
wall just in front of the stud over and over until Freddy stopped
struggling.

Greg let go of Freddy, who slumped to the floor. He turned to find
Margaret staring at him, worry evident in her face.

“Is he dead?” she asked fearfully.

“I don't think so, I think I just knocked him out. Did Ben
tell you how long before they'd get here?”

“He said they'd arrive as quickly as they could but that
traffic was slow due to the storm.”

“Well, we probably ought to keep an eye on him until they
get here. I don't know, maybe tie his hands or something. Is there
anything in here we can use for that?”

“I've got a cloth belt in my nightstand drawer, would that
work?”

“Better than anything else I'm seeing.”

Greg and Margaret both started to move to the nightstand but
Margaret was closer. She opened the drawer and pulled the belt out.
She turned to hand it to Greg:

“Greg, look out!”

Greg turned to see Freddy grabbing the knife from in front of the
window with his non-dislocated arm. Freddy cried out:

“Die you fucking bitch!” Freddy started to charge
across the room towards Margaret, knife raised high to stab with.

As Freddy took his first step, Greg started moving towards him.
Freddy had only taken two steps towards Margaret when Greg launched
himself through the air. Freddy was only a few feet away from him and
Greg hit him in the torso with a flying tackle. The pair of steps
Greg had taken before launching himself gave him some momentum. The
momentum, added to the weight of Greg's body, gave his tackle a
serious impact. Freddy staggered back from the strike, one step, then
two before regaining his balance. Freddy stabbed down with the knife,
piercing Greg's right shoulder. Greg, in a last ditch effort to
protect Margaret, tried slamming Freddy into the wall again with the
arm on the side that hadn't been stabbed. The only problem was that
there was no wall behind Freddy this time. He went smashing through
the window, shattering the glass on his way through. Greg had pushed
Freddy hard enough that he went straight through the window with only
his legs remaining in the room.

Freddy was sliding down the slick, snow-covered roof when Greg
grabbed an ankle with his good hand. He got a solid grip on it and
stopped Freddy's fall. Freddy started twisting and trying to get back
in the room. He was nearly doubled over when his groping hand struck
Greg's wounded shoulder. The pain caused Greg to lose his grip on
Freddy's ankle and he began to slide once again. This time Freddy's
questing hand caught Greg's bad arm. Greg screamed from the pain and
felt himself start to slide across the floor.

Margaret grabbed onto Greg, trying to keep him from following
Freddy through the window. She was only partially successful. Greg
was doubled over, his torso hanging out through the broken window
into the cold outside air. Freddy was trying to make his way up
Greg's bad arm one-handed using his own good arm and trying to get
traction in the slippery snow with his feet. Greg heard sirens
approaching and his only thought was
Shit, they're going be too
late.

Greg was slowly being dragged out the
window when Margaret let go of him. Freddy had made his way partially
back up Greg's arm and was now grabbing for his wounded shoulder
again. Greg could feel broken glass from the frame of the window
digging into his stomach and left side. His feet were starting to
come off the floor from his and Freddy's combined weight. Suddenly a
wooden pole showed up in his vision, headed for Freddy's face. It
struck Freddy in the cheek several times but his grip remained firm.
Finally the pole adjusted upward and moved towards Freddy's eye.

Freddy looked on in disbelief. Margaret
was hitting him with the end of a broomstick. She struck his cheek
several times and when he didn't let go, she repositioned it and
started heading for his eye.