It didnt start out as a particularly scary evening . . . far from it. Rather routine, in fact. Evelyn was sleeping, still trying to recover from that bout of the flu that had laid her low for the better part of six days in a row. She was starting to return to normal but still required more than the usual amount of sleep. Her strength had been sapped and now she was trying to regain it. I had hired a beautiful young gal named Katrina to help take the load off of Evelyn. Katrina knew how to keep books, was familiar with Quicken, Excel, all the stuff accounting types need to keep the dollars and cents in line. She was bi-lingual, speaking English, Spanish, Farsi (Persian) and Arabic. Single and attractive, I didnt know how long shed be with us before some gallant young lad would come and sweep her off her feet and dash off to a lovely little cottage with a picket fence. I told Katrina I was going out for some fresh air, thought Id go up and visit my old stomping grounds, Dixon Lake, where I had owned the concession for boat rentals and fishing permits for some 27 years. She said shed catch any phone calls and evelyn was to call her if she needed anything. So, off I went to Dixon Lake. The sun had already set but I had brought along a flashlight and, together with the night time lighting in the picnic area where the ranger offices are located, I managed to retrace some of the paths I had often trod during those 27 years that I owned Lyles at Dixon Lake. Lots of great memories. Then the reverie was broken as my cellphone buzzed. I checked it and saw in incoming text message. You are in danger! Someone is tracking you and intends to kill you! He is upset because youve been arguing against gun control and supporting the 2nd Amendment. He heard about your presentation to the Escondido Fish and Game Association and he is livid! He wants to make you an example! This guy is dangerous! Keep your eyes and ears open! Well! Had I been a young 25-35 year old guy, I would have been alarmed at this message. But Im considerably past the 25-35 year old category. Another twenty years and I will qualify as an elderly gent. Not quite as swift of foot, or mind, nor am I quite as strong as I used to be. How to deal with this? Ive never been stalked or hunted before. You can bet your last nickle that I was alarmed. I headed toward the ranger station but though the lights were on, there was no one inside. I figured they were on their nightly rounds, checking the campgrounds and such. I was alone. In a darkened park. No protection. (And, no gun). No means of protecting myself. Suddenly, headlights! Maybe that was the ranger truck! No, it wasnt. It was a sedan of some type. One man got out and he was carrying what looked like a Kalishnokov. A high powered assault weapon. Great! And I didnt have so much as a pistol to defend myself with. I know youre here, Davis. Come out, come out, wherever you are! I wanna have a little talk with you! I ducked down behind some bushes and dialed 911. Your call is very important to us. Please remain on the line as we attend to other callers. You will be in a queue and we will answer your call in the order received. Your call is very important to us . . . yadda yadda yadda . . . The hunter now shouldered his weapon and pulled out a huge sword or knife. What in the hell is going on?! I became aware of some rustling to the right of me and suddenly, there was Katrina! Katrina! What in the hell are you doing here?! Were in danger! Get down! I thought I could help. I heard you were in trouble. You should have stayed away; now its gonna be twice as hard to avoid this guy. Here, give me your hand. Well move over behind the ranger offices. Theres better concealment there . . . maybe a park ranger will show up. I took her hand and began to lead her in the direction of the building when I both felt and heard a click; I whirled around and looked and there on my hand was a handcuff, the other cuff being held by Katrina. I looked at the handcuff and looked at Katrina who was now wearing a smile that looked remarkably like a smirk. We have been looking for you for some time, my colleagues and I. I have him! Come ahead! A rustling in the bushes and there he was. My hunter. A bearded, husky guy . . . with a sword about three feet in length . . . frightening just to look at. We are about to make you famous, Davis. You will be known worldwide. My colleague in the car will be here in mere moments . . . with his camera. He will record this! With that he grabbed my hair, held my head tightly and brought his knife to my throat. We will saw your head off. Slowly! He will videotape it and you will be on YouTube within the hour. Your body here . . . and your severed head dangling from my hand. That will teach the world that it is not wise to oppose the wise counsel of your President and argue against gun control. You see, Davis, if you have guns, we cannot conquer you. If you do not have guns . . . well . . . I think I make my point. With that his colleague appeared, videocamera in hand . . . a toothy grin on his face. My Hunter drew back his knife and began to speak in Arabic . . . I noticed Katrina had a glazed, fascinated look in her eyes . . and just the touch of a contented smile. The knife approached my throat and began to saw . . . I knew that my screams would not be heard . . . and that, soon, only the gurgle of my hot blood, pouring out of my arteries would replace the screams. Ive never been so frightened in my life. . . . . and then I woke up. My body was sweating. I was wide awake. There was no Katrina. There was no hunter. There was no one videotaping me. It wasnt a dream. It was a friggin nightmare! And all because of my strong belief in the 2nd Amendment. That we sure as hell have a right to bear arms . . . and not to just hunt animals . . . but to protect ourselves from tyrannical governments, both local, state and federal . . . and foreign. You know, the stuff of which dreams are made.
Posted on: Wed, 24 Sep 2014 01:36:27 +0000
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