The wind wrestled an old pine to the ground just as she opened the door and she hesitated, wondering if the danger was greater outside or in. Her hand barely grasped the doorknob, so strong was the gale. Old pine they called her. Right now she felt like old willow. But she pulled herself up nonetheless, righted with all the creaking you’d expect from bark or old bones, then soldiered inside. This was her house dammit, and she’d be damned if she let someone take it from her. She crept in on tiptoe, like a child playing at spies, and was rewarded by the creak of her old floorboards. So much for stealth. She settled for a three-legged trot, her cane grasped firmly in her right hand, Thunk, thunk thunk. A fitting rhythm to beat out the interlopers.

She found the first huddled near the fireplace, his matted hair and grungy clothes anathema to her schoolmarm sensibilities. She brought the cane down atop his head before he could even shout, dashing it against her hardwood floor. Oh dear. That blood would stain if she let it sit. But there wasn’t time for cleaning. There was never enough time for cleaning. Right shame that was.

  Then she thundered into the next room, where two more intruders stood, ready for her with makeshift weapons of their own: Bobby’s old baseball bat in one man’s hand, a poker in the others. Bat boy had old gnarled hands like hers that shook from the tightness of his grip. Poker-man looks grizzled, with a faraway stare that screamed slasher villain, or maybe war vet.

  She swung at bat-boy first, positioning him between her and poker-man. The wood of their weapons clacked against each other, echoing off the walls of a near-empty living room. Poker-man came around the side, the end of his weapon red-hot, which was unexpected. She dodged sideways--

  “Dear? Would you pass the peas dear?”

  The dinner table crashed into frame like a car during one of those high speed chases she liked to read about. She smiled then, warm as she could despite the roiling anger inside, and passed the damn peas. George’s favorite, so she cooked them every night, between bouts of imagination in one adventure or another. No doubt he’d want to watch Cops reruns when this was over. Damned Cops. Always the same story, every night. Some idiot would yell at some other ingrate, then the police show up and tase everybody, or get thrown around, or a hundred variations of men beating other men.

  “What’s wrong dear?”

  “Nothing.” She smiled again. “Just thinking of the good old days.

  “You old softy. Stop pining for the good old days. We’ve got a good forty years left I think, what will all the technology coming around lately. We got plenty more memories to make.”

  “Sure honey, sure sure.”

  And she was back in the trenches, fighting Kong for all he was worth with tale and fire. She felt the rush of the radiation surge through her--

  “Thanks dear.” He handed the damned peas back to her.

  “You’re welcome,” she said, sweet as she could manage. How had it ended up like this? She’d always dreamed of adventure, of living tall tales, or at least telling them. But instead she was a stay at home mother to a pair of precocious boys and one unruly girl, passing peas nightly to her boring but supportive husband.

  She studied him then, wondering if she should work him into one of her fantasies, perhaps kill him off in some poetic way, like choking on a pea.

  To her horror, he began to do just that, holding his throat and hacking out little gobs of spittle that dirtied her mother’s tablecloth. Bobby and Shawn sat dumbstruck. She ran around the table, faster than she thought her old legs might carry her, and wrestled him from their one antique chair onto the ground, spilling the god. Damned. Peas.

  But then her arms were around him, and she pulled up and into his chest. It took three good pumps before the peas flew out like grapeshot from the world’s most boring cannon. He coughed and sputtered for a few moments, his eyes watering.

  When he was done, she hugged him, crying.

  “It’s ok dear. Your quick thinking saved me. Nothing to worry about now. Hmm hmm.”

  “Want to go watch Cops? Think I’ve had enough adventure for the night.”