Cheating the Devil
by Jeff Guthrie

Stan is sitting at the table thinking, “Oh God, Lisa is out and I am sure she is in the house.” After all the whacko things she pulled in the past, he has no idea what to expect.
    He hears a creak upstairs and it sends a shiver down his spine. Stan slowly gets up from the table and moves toward the front door.
    “If I can only get out to the car and lock the door before she comes down, I might avoid trouble,” Stan says to himself.
    Slowly, ever so slowly, he tiptoes through the living room towards the front door. He’s only about five paces away from the door when he hears another creak. Stan freezes and holds his breath. Is that footsteps coming down the hallway? Is she going to beat me senseless like she did last time? Stan just doesn’t know what’s happening and why it’s happening to him.
    Ever since their daughter’s third birthday, when she and Lisa were in that car accident, things were never the same. The doctors said that there was nothing wrong with Lisa, but Stan knew different. He could tell that there was something wrong, something almost evil about his wife that he could do nothing about. It seemed that his wife went from a happy, carefree mother and wife one day, to a dark, secretive woman the next. Her bursts of anger and violence rapidly progressed until she was actually hitting Stan on a regular basis. Stan is a small guy, about 140 pounds while Lisa, never a svelte woman, just got larger and larger. When Rachel (their daughter) was born, Lisa started trying to lose weight. Instead of losing weight, she gained weight. She lost the fat all right but she built up her weight with muscle. Lisa weighed 122 pounds when she got pregnant, she weighed 160 when she had the baby, and she now weighs about 176 with hardly an ounce of fat on her. Stan was always proud to have the tall, stunning beauty holding his arm any time they went out. Little did he realize that this tall stunning beauty could turn into a cold-blooded, maniacal stalker who terrorized his every waking thought.
     Listening intently, Stan decided that Lisa must be in Rachel’s room, looking through her stuff. He continued on toward the door until his hand was inches from the knob. He slowly turned the knob and began to open the door. A small squeak escaped one of the hinges and Stan froze again. The door was only open about three inches and he was afraid to open it any more for fear of Lisa hearing him and running down the stairs after him. Stan’s breath rasped in and out, his pulse raced at 140. Again, he slowly starts pulling the door open. He gets the door open about ten inches when a horrendous squeak screams out from the hinges. With reckless abandon, Stan slams the door open and leaps from the steps into the yard. He races across the yard to the driveway with blood pounding in his ears. He fumbles for his keys, positive that Lisa will be grabbing his shoulder any second now. He’s almost there. The keys are taking forever.
     Stan finally gets the key out, unlocks the door and jumps in the car, locking the doors behind him. His heart races as he scans the yard and doorway, certain that he will see Lisa striding aggressively across the yard. But, there’s no one there. He scans the windows upstairs and still, no one.
    “Damn,” he swears under his breath. “I coulda swore I heard her upstairs. I bet she’s still up there, waiting for me to pick Rachel up and bring her home before taking some drastic action against both of us.” Stan decides that he will not give Lisa the satisfaction. He decides to pick up Rachel and head out of town for the night. He also decides to call Sergeant Jackson down at the precinct, and ask them to send a car by his house, just to make sure no one is there.
     Having made his decision, Stan begins to calm down and eases the car out of the driveway. He still has 45 minutes to kill before getting Rachel, so he decides to stop for a paper and a snack on the way over to the friend’s house. While driving, he calls the precinct and leaves a message for Sergeant Jackson saying he suspects his wife is waiting in his house for him and his daughter to come home. Now he is pretty sure that they will send a patrol car over and pick Lisa up before he brings Rachel home.
    Stan stopped and got a pack of nabs and today’s newspaper and sits on a quiet residential street waiting until it was time to pick up Rachel. He reads all the terrible news from around the world and it disturbs him. He throws the paper into the back seat, disgusted with himself for continuing to read stories that only make him mad. Nevertheless, he still has an uneasy feeling.
    Finally, it’s time to pick up Rachel so he cruises over the two blocks and pulls in the driveway.
    “That’s strange,” he says to himself. There were a lot of cars here earlier and lots of kids running around in the front yard. Now, the house looks almost deserted and there is only one car in the driveway. Stan’s uneasiness increases as he gets out of the car and heads for the door.
    “Christ, I hope Lisa has not been here,” he says as he increases his pace. The walk from the driveway to the front door seems to have increased from a couple of yards to a couple of miles. He reaches the door at almost a full run only to run up on his daughter and Mrs. Jones sitting on the porch. Both of them are very subdued and it appears that Rachel has been crying.
    “What’s wrong?” Stan asks as he reaches for his daughter.
    “Well, it’s been a terrible morning,” Mrs. Jones says. “The party had only been going for about an hour when Missie, you know, the Harold’s daughter, fell off of the swing set.”
    “Goodness, I hope she is ok,” Stan replies.
    “She’ll be fine, but she broke her arm,” said Mrs. Jones. “I called the other parents to pick up their kids and I tried your number for over an hour and kept getting a weird busy signal. I guess your phone is off the hook or they are working on your phone line.”
    “Really? I didn’t know my phone was having problems,” said Stan, “ I will have to get the phone company out to look at it.” All the while Stan was thinking, I used the phone this morning and everything was fine.
    “Mrs. Jones, I’m sorry I missed your call.”
     “That’s fine,” said Mrs. Jones, “I’m sure Rachel will come around once she gets home.” 
    “I’m sure you’re right.” Stan turns to Rachel, “Come on honey, let’s go!” Rachel hops up without a word and follows Stan to the car.
    “I’m sure all the girls will be fine,” Stan says as they leave.
    “Thanks! I’m sure they will, too,” replies Mrs. Jones.
    Stan helps Rachel get into the car and jumps in on the driver’s side. “Are you ready for a little adventure?” he asks his daughter.
    “Yeah, I guess.” Rachel replies.
    “You guess?” says Stan, “Where is your sense of adventure? I want to take you up to the lake so we can eat dinner out and spend the night away from home. Kind of like a camp-out without the tent. Does that sound ok?”
    “Yeah,” she says with a hint of a smile, “that sounds like fun.”
    Stan turns the car out of the driveway and heads out of the neighborhood. He takes his time, all the while thinking about Lisa and the crazy things she must be planning. He decides to call Sgt. Jackson and see if they picked her up at the house. When he finally gets through, he is told that a car was sent to his house but they did not find any trace of Lisa in or around the house.
     Stan’s nervousness increases as he drives out of town. He knows that she will be coming to find him but he does not know when. He assumed she was at the house earlier but could have just imagined the noises upstairs.
    He tries to hide his nerves as he and Rachel sing along to tapes in the car and play match the license plates as they drive up to Lake Gaston, NC. The drive is about two hours and the restaurant is on the way to where he plans to stay for the night. His best friend from college has a trailer up here that has not been used all summer. He told Stan where the key is hidden, and that he is welcome to use it any time he would like. Stan decided earlier that he and Rachel would spend the night in the trailer and head home in the morning. Hopefully, the police would have picked Lisa up by then. He is still uneasy, but wonders what could happen now that they were staying somewhere that Lisa knew nothing about.
    After a wonderful supper of foot-long hotdogs, french fries smothered in ketchup, and root beers, Stan and Rachel head up to the trailer. They only drive about five minutes before they reach the turn-off. Rachel is singing in the cute, little off-key voice of hers while Stan is finally relaxing. They made it out of town, and no sign of Lisa. He can rest tonight and head back home tomorrow with a brighter outlook on things.
    Stan pulls up in front of the trailer and cuts the motor off. He leaves the running lights on until he can get inside and turn on some real lights.
    As Rachel gets out of the car, he tells her, “Stay right here at the car while I go around back for the key, ok?”
    “Ok, Daddy.”
    Stan heads around the side of the trailer and stomps through the brush to find the large pine tree behind the house. His friend said there was a huge pine tree about dead center of the back of the house with a fake squirrel house on it. Inside the squirrel house is a key to the trailer. It was really dark, and each tree looked huge to Stan. He finally found the key and headed back around the trailer. As he rounded the corner he saw that the trunk of the car was open.
    “I don’t remember opening the trunk,” he says to himself.
    Stan watched in horror as a head and torso materialized out of the trunk. He blanched when two shapely, yet muscular legs followed. He almost croaked as he determined that it was Lisa. All five foot ten, 176 pounds of Lisa curled out of his trunk with the ease of a lioness. He was dumbstruck with fear but he knew that he had to distract her from Rachel.
    Without a thought, Stan charged out of the woods straight at Lisa, screaming at the top of his lungs.
    “Rachel, run! Run away, now!” he screamed.
    As he got closer, he saw that Lisa had a baseball bat and was looking back and forth between he and Rachel. She could not decide who to go after first. She turned and headed straight for Rachel but her moment of indecision gave Stan just enough of a start to catch up to her. Stan threw himself at Lisa, praying that he could knock her aside before she hit Rachel.
    Wham! Stan collided with Lisa and Rachel at the same time and was able to push Rachel towards the trailer. He noticed with satisfaction that Rachel rolled partially under the trailer and should be safe unless Lisa got away to go after her. Amazingly, Lisa was already back on her feet and getting ready to do a Hank Aaron on Stan’s head. She swung the bat hard and he barely avoided it.
     Since Lisa’s incarceration in the mental institution and her abuse several years ago, Stan had started taking self-defense classes. He only hoped that he could hold Lisa off long enough for Rachel to get away, or until maybe a neighbor would hear. Stan, remembering his training, jerked upright from the missed home run and planted a kick right between Lisa’s breasts, sending her spilling over backwards onto a pile of limbs near the car.
    Stan looked frantically at Rachel and said, “Run baby, get away from here and get some help.” Rachel jumped up and ran around the back of the trailer and out of sight.
    Lisa regained her feet, and with an evil laugh said, “Tough guy, huh?”
    Stan was freaking out because he thought how much that kick should have hurt. Lisa did not seem fazed by the blow and advanced to inflict some punishment of her own. Lisa feinted another headshot with the bat, but at the last minute she pulled the bat downward. The blow was directed toward Stan’s midsection but he danced away and took a glancing shot to the hip. Lisa was right on top of him and swung the bat again. This time she connected, and Stan took a serious blow to the upper arm in the triceps area. The pain was incredible. He tried to fall back with the blow, but it connected square with his arm and he hit the ground. Stan scuttled back trying to avoid another blow but Lisa just kept coming.
    In desperation, Stan torqued his hips and swept his legs at Lisa’s calves. She danced back, but one of Stan’s feet got tangled in her feet and she fell backward. This allowed Stan time to get to his feet, but there was Lisa, back on her feet. They circled each other warily but Stan could tell that Lisa was intent on murder. He had to figure out how to disarm her or he was going to get badly hurt. His arm and hip already throbbed, and he was limping while Lisa seemed to be gaining energy from the conflict.
    Lisa lunged again and this time Stan moved in towards her, instead of away. He was able to grab her around the midsection, but realized his mistake almost immediately. Lisa was a lot stronger than Stan and she merely lifted her knee as hard as she could directly into his groin. Stan crumpled to the ground, sick all over and unable to move. Lisa cawed in triumph, and raised the bat for the killing blow. Stan was able to move slightly and the blow intended for his head caught him on the shoulder, near where it meets the neck. Stan went limp, and Lisa assumed he was either out or dead.
Lisa spun around and launched herself into the woods after Rachel. She knew that if Rachel found a neighbor, the police would be called and she would end up back in a cage. She did not have to run far. Rachel was hiding about 20 yards behind the trailer near the big pine tree.
    “Come here, honey,” she rasped.
    Rachel tried to bolt but Lisa was right on top of her. Lisa grabbed Rachel by the hair at the nape of her neck and started dragging her back to the front of the trailer.
    “Let’s see if Daddy is still alive so he can watch me kill you,” she hissed.
    Lisa dragged Rachel around to the front of trailer and looked down where Stan had fallen earlier. He was gone. She could not believe that her sissy husband actually got up after she hit him that hard. She laughed because she knew he could not hurt her. Stan was about as useful in a fight as a cup of water.
    She slowly circled and said, “Stan, bring your scrawny ass out here before I really show you some pain; on your daughter!” Nothing. “Come on sissy boy, show your face!”
    As she turned full circle back towards the trailer, Stan rolled out from under the trailer. He grabbed Rachel’s arm and jerked her over his body towards the underside of the trailer. At the same time, he extends his leg in a piston-like kick that catches Lisa right below the kneecap. You can hear a snap as Lisa crumples to the ground. Stan quickly jumps on top of her and wrestles the bat from her while she is dazed from the broken leg. He gets the bat, but not before she snaps off two punches. Stan’s lip is cut and his nose is bleeding, but he pushes himself off of her. Lisa starts to get up with madness in her eyes and Stan knows that she will kill them both if she gets up. He pulls the bat back as far as possible and swings straight for her head. There was never a home run hit as well as the one Stan hit that night. One side of Lisa’s head collapses with the force of the blow and she falls back to the ground.
    Stan stood over her, horrified but still protecting his little girl. Lisa only rolled from side to side, moaning. Blood poured from her mouth and ears as she slowly settled to stillness. Stan watched in horror as she beckoned him to come near her. He could not believe what he was seeing but he knelt next to her. She beckoned closer until his face was right next to the horror that was Lisa. He could tell she wanted to speak. He knelt even closer.
    “Thank you,” she whispered, “thank you. The car wreck . . . Rachel . . . was crushed . . . I made a deal . . . with . . . devil . . . for my soul. He . . . claimed . . . early.” With the last word her spirit seemed to drain away and Stan saw that she mouthed, “I love you,” even though there was no sound.

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