...I thought my life was about to end. I rolled out of bed and hit the floor as the cats scattered. Okay, there are only two of them, so I guess they more "separated." My eyes bugged as the loud bang at the front door - the sound that had awakened me - repeated. And again - intensifying with each strike. This wasn't someone trying to summon me to the door, or even just banging to get in - this was someone trying to break down the door. Not sure I could make it in time, I shot out of the bedroom and dove over the living room couch, twisting neatly in midair to slide down between the couch and the wall.
Not a moment too soon. The second I settled, I heard the stubborn door finally surrender under the force of some gigantic blow. My entire front door flew the length of the living room and crashed into the sliding glass door to the back patio, sundering the glass outward and finally settling into the torn and wrecked mesh of the screen.
"Culgrew!" barked a harsh voice. "We know you're in here, Culgrew! Where's the gold!"
"My name's not Culgrew!" I answered, confusing them as to my location by bouncing my voice off several walls. "You'll never find me, and you'll never get the gold!" I thought for a moment. "Go away!"
"Fool! We'll tear this place apart!" a second voice half-hissed, half-shrieked.
A tense moment of silence followed. Then, as if at some silent signal, the thunder of guns boomed out - almost unbelievably loud in the cozy enclosure of the small but comfortable house that I'd made a home. A grimly measured fusillade of hot lead - I felt the sturdy couch vibrate with impact after impact, saw the wall above me pock with holes, felt the dry plaster raining down, dusting my hair and clothes. In the kitchen, windows shattered and dishes crashed. All over the house, framed pictures cascaded from the walls.
After what seemed like solid minutes of bombardment, the noise ceased and a deafened silence washed in to fill the void. The dust began to settle across a carpet of the wrecked pieces of my life. In the kitchen, fragments of glass and china lay collaged in a violent kaleidoscope of mingled shards. I could hear something ceramic rolling to a stop under the kitchen table.
"Well, Culgrew! Had enough?" growled the first voice.
A long pause.
The second voice spoke in a nervous sotto voce: "What are we going to do? We can't find him in OOF!" He was cut short by the deep thwunk of a fist or elbow, striking him somewhere solid.
"How many of you are there?" I called.
A short pause. "Two!" said the first voice. He sounded like he meant it.
"That works," I said, and suddenly my lithe, muscular frame shockingly altered shape in a braced lunge - my hands on the wall behind me, both legs suddenly pivoting straight out like pistons, flinging the heavy sofa across the intervening space in the tick of a breathless second! I vaulted to my feet as the huge, tweed-upholstered bulldozer of a sofa bowled into the intruders, smacking them into the far wall with a pop and a heavy crunch. As it rocked to a stop, I was already on top of the two stunned men - my shoulder arriving like a battering ram, slamming the big one's head back into the plaster with the full weight of my body behind it.
"Hey! Now! How do you! like! That!" I queried, as I disarmed and harried the two with brutal, crunching blows to the face and abdomen. After a few more strokes, I stepped back and surveyed my work. Neither of these guys would be giving me any further trouble! But I still had a problem: how had they found out about me?
A sudden indistinct blur out of the corner of my eye gave me to understand that I had yet a more pressing problem - but too late! I half whirled to face the third intruder, and got my own red foot-long Maglite flashlight right in the skull, swung hard by somebody with a lot to swing with. I didn't even see stars, just black.
When I came to, I was back in bed. I rose uneasily, looking around. The room seemed to be in order. I padded silently out of the bedroom, then froze, flabbergasted. The whole house was back in order. Front door back on its hinges, sliding glass door repaired, bulletholes spackled so expertly even I couldn't see the marks. Dishes back in the dish rack, pictures on the walls. Couch sitting serenely! I couldn't believe it. The fixup job was just too thorough. Was it possible it had all been a dream?
"Wait a minute!" I started, with a yawning shock of horror. "Where's my gold!?"
Not a moment too soon. The second I settled, I heard the stubborn door finally surrender under the force of some gigantic blow. My entire front door flew the length of the living room and crashed into the sliding glass door to the back patio, sundering the glass outward and finally settling into the torn and wrecked mesh of the screen.
"Culgrew!" barked a harsh voice. "We know you're in here, Culgrew! Where's the gold!"
"My name's not Culgrew!" I answered, confusing them as to my location by bouncing my voice off several walls. "You'll never find me, and you'll never get the gold!" I thought for a moment. "Go away!"
"Fool! We'll tear this place apart!" a second voice half-hissed, half-shrieked.
A tense moment of silence followed. Then, as if at some silent signal, the thunder of guns boomed out - almost unbelievably loud in the cozy enclosure of the small but comfortable house that I'd made a home. A grimly measured fusillade of hot lead - I felt the sturdy couch vibrate with impact after impact, saw the wall above me pock with holes, felt the dry plaster raining down, dusting my hair and clothes. In the kitchen, windows shattered and dishes crashed. All over the house, framed pictures cascaded from the walls.
After what seemed like solid minutes of bombardment, the noise ceased and a deafened silence washed in to fill the void. The dust began to settle across a carpet of the wrecked pieces of my life. In the kitchen, fragments of glass and china lay collaged in a violent kaleidoscope of mingled shards. I could hear something ceramic rolling to a stop under the kitchen table.
"Well, Culgrew! Had enough?" growled the first voice.
A long pause.
The second voice spoke in a nervous sotto voce: "What are we going to do? We can't find him in OOF!" He was cut short by the deep thwunk of a fist or elbow, striking him somewhere solid.
"How many of you are there?" I called.
A short pause. "Two!" said the first voice. He sounded like he meant it.
"That works," I said, and suddenly my lithe, muscular frame shockingly altered shape in a braced lunge - my hands on the wall behind me, both legs suddenly pivoting straight out like pistons, flinging the heavy sofa across the intervening space in the tick of a breathless second! I vaulted to my feet as the huge, tweed-upholstered bulldozer of a sofa bowled into the intruders, smacking them into the far wall with a pop and a heavy crunch. As it rocked to a stop, I was already on top of the two stunned men - my shoulder arriving like a battering ram, slamming the big one's head back into the plaster with the full weight of my body behind it.
"Hey! Now! How do you! like! That!" I queried, as I disarmed and harried the two with brutal, crunching blows to the face and abdomen. After a few more strokes, I stepped back and surveyed my work. Neither of these guys would be giving me any further trouble! But I still had a problem: how had they found out about me?
A sudden indistinct blur out of the corner of my eye gave me to understand that I had yet a more pressing problem - but too late! I half whirled to face the third intruder, and got my own red foot-long Maglite flashlight right in the skull, swung hard by somebody with a lot to swing with. I didn't even see stars, just black.
When I came to, I was back in bed. I rose uneasily, looking around. The room seemed to be in order. I padded silently out of the bedroom, then froze, flabbergasted. The whole house was back in order. Front door back on its hinges, sliding glass door repaired, bulletholes spackled so expertly even I couldn't see the marks. Dishes back in the dish rack, pictures on the walls. Couch sitting serenely! I couldn't believe it. The fixup job was just too thorough. Was it possible it had all been a dream?
"Wait a minute!" I started, with a yawning shock of horror. "Where's my gold!?"
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