With half an ear I listened to her once again tell how he had saved her life, how he had told her to get down even before the kid had pulled the gun from his pocket, how he had disarmed the kid after he opened fire on the convenience store clerk. She droned on and on about how wonderful he was. Listening to her talk it was almost believable that he was, if not a celestial being, at least an ubermensch.
Throughout her story I sat there unspeaking, as silent as the stone that now sat where minutes ago my heart had been. I thought to myself, "Evidently Abu's guardian angel didn't follow him to work at the c-store that day. Maybe guardian angels don't watch out for the Abus of the world." Did I sound bitter and spiteful? Comparing bitter and spiteful to the way I felt at that moment would be like comparing the crash of the Hindenburg to popping a balloon at a child's birthday party. I was the avatar of rage. I was the embodiement of violence. Inside I was destroying everything around me. At that moment I could have torn down the walls of the resuraunt with my bare hands. At that moment I could have faced Mike Tyson when he was at his prime and he would have cowered in fear. But on the outside I was still and silent as a stone.
Finally, she finished talking. She said, "Well, you aren't saying anything, so I might as well go. He is waiting for me."
Still I sat there like a stone as she stood and walked to the door. As the door closed behind her I raced after her. I don't know if my plan was to beg her to stay, or to find him and bash in his face.
As I walked through the door, I saw her going to a car across the parking lot. I saw him get out of the car and open the door for her. When I got a good look at him my mouth went dry and my body went numb.
To be concluded very soon. I think it will be worth the wait.
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