He was right. It wasn’t safe to be walking here. I was just about to change my mind about ambling along the less populated areas when a young man who looked like a dirty representative of the gangbanger sect appeared around the corner, jack knife at the ready. I reached into my purse and seized my can of pepper spray. It was in my right hand, cap off and ready by the time the nasty got close enough so that we could see his red eyes and drug-stained teeth.
“Give me da’ money,” the man bellowed.
I raised up my can and prepared to position it at the perfect angle, but Timothy was also ready. He held no weapon except his bravado of confidence. He somehow thought he could wrestle a knife from a street jerk. My defense teacher has said that was the worst thing someone could attempt. The teacher had told us to pour out our money, run, and scream. Never to fight.
The villain in this scene had an unsure gait, and his knife hand look like it was agitatedly jiggling. Maybe he was too stoned to do damage, but drugs gave people super strength. It wasn’t worth fighting with him.
“Okay,” I said. “I don’t have much, but you can take it all, just leave us alone, okay?”
“Get behind me,” Timothy ordered, giving me a gentle shove. But I was no pushover. My self-defense training was up to date and primed. I’d already kicked off my shoes so I could bend and kick as needed.
I knew I should have yelled first, but I’d never been much of a screamer. Besides, the druggie could have friends around the corner, who’d come running to see if there was profit or violence in it for them. I almost regretted not waiting to see if my moves could subdue the man, but I knew that would be foolish, so I held up my full can of instant defense that would send this deviant weeping and wailing for his mommy.
“Don’t come any closer,” I said, gesturing what would happen if he did.
“I’m fine,” I told Timothy. I’d already right turned the trigger tub. In a second, my finger would press down.
The guy lunged forward, and I sprayed him fully in his face. Timothy never had a chance to do whatever he planned to do, but he did whip the knife out of the man’s hand, toss it over into the bushes, then give a stomach-kick that tumbled the man over his feet and flat on his back.
Timothy turned to stare at me. “What a woman,” he said. “You leave me in a state of wonder.”