that brings peace, that kind of passing I knew something about.
But my gut told me that my death, the one that I would die tonight, was going to be the definition of violence. It was hatred, rage, and jealousy all rolled into one and there would be nothing peaceful about it except that it would eventually be over.
Having been fully focused on the terror coming from behind me, I finally took note of the spasmodic barking coming from my left. Sparing a glance, I could see Samuel was making a stand. Foam spattering from his mouth, eyes wide, hair standing up like a mantle around his neck, he looked rabid. He was not moving forward, but he was not backing down either.
In the next second, silence took over the house and Samuel lay on the floor, his paws jerking spasmodically as his eyes rolled up. I still had not moved except to take that quick glance at Samuel.
Feeling an unusual sensation to my right, I glanced forward and it was then I saw him out of the corner of my right eye. Sitting on the couch not two inches away from me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees in mockery of my own stance, he looked straight ahead as if he were merely a spectator and not the cause of this terrible scene.
Automatically, I jerked back and as far away from him as I could, not quite making it to the end of the couch. It was then that I opened my mouth to scream for the first time. My lips were dry and very little sound came out at first, but eventually I worked the paralysis out of the muscles of my larynx and the terror was released. It did no good as there was no one to hear me. The nearest house was at least four miles away.
Maybe he knew that or maybe he didn’t care. At that point, I wasn’t sure. Having lost all of my breath and the ability to create any more sound across my raw vocal cords, I could do nothing more than lay there and watch him, death itself, observe me. He must have scrutinized me for only a minute or so, but it felt like an eternity.
Finally he spoke, and the normality of his voice was incongruous with the terror he inspired. “I was afraid you were going to end up like your dog so I am glad you quieted before I had to break your neck too. Noise like that can drive me to early violence. My hearing is so sensitive and I would not want you to ruin my meal. I am voraciously hungry tonight.”
I was about a sentence behind him the entire time, each word sinking in a couple of seconds after he said them. Confusion hit me when he mentioned food and I looked automatically into the kitchen at the spaghetti sauce I had been cooking.
I should have pulled it off of the burner by now and it was starting to burn on the bottom of the pan. I could hear the quiet sizzle that would soon get louder and the pungent odor of the burning sauce was now filling the house.
Realization and a new-found hope hit me suddenly. In a few more minutes, it would start smoking, setting off the fire alarms, which were tied into the house’s security system. It was the only part of the system, besides the panic button, that was active even when the system was disarmed.
The panic button! Hope glimmered but then faded just as quickly as there was no way to get to it now. I had put it down on the stand at the bottom of the stairs a few minutes earlier. I had laughed when the alarm representative had told me to always keep it in my pocket.
“You never know when it just might save your life,” he had quipped cheerfully as he handed it to me. The idea had seemed a little overboard at the time, but now it became evident that the overly happy alarm man was brilliant.
But I still had a chance. If the smoke alarms went off, the fire service would be dispatched immediately. It was the only agency that could not be turned back with a code word. The trucks would come until the return was ordered by the fire marshal and I had met him before, usually when I was cooking, and he was always very thorough. No turn-around orders from him until he had