The Battered Husband: Based on a True Story

By Spensir T. Blake

Is there a fine line between love and hate? This novel tests the boundaries of these two innate emotions, intertwining them in a twisted tale filled with broken trust, tragedy and revenge. A dark tale of one mans journey through a hellish divorce, the author explores the role of society in the court system, how men and women in todays world can be both the victim and the destroyer and how a snow globe marriage can easily turn into a Hollywood horror.
When the law fails, he takes matters into his own hands. Trying desperately to regain his life and son after the woman he once shared his entire world with, turns his whole world against him. Will revenge or justice prevail? After all, some say all is fair in love and war. In this story, love is war. Just be sure what you are fighting for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 17, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462883516

Spensir T. Blake

Conscience, the second book written by Spensir T. Blake, is the first of a two part series. After his first book, The Battered Husband, the author decided to show the lighter side of life. The author has traveled extensively throughout his life, both in the military and as a civilian. In addition to flying and becoming a successful author, his passions lay with his children, who inspire him every day and keep his life full of laughter and joy.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

IN THE OLD days, women were treated like third class citizens or wives with no say in a marriage. Much like what we hear about Muslim societies. Their husbands would divorce them and leave them with nothing. The poor children of some of these marriages would suffer. Oh boy, times they are a changing. Society is now giving women more rights than men, and they are learning to exploit it. Were the women fighting for equal rights or to shift the rights and power in their favor?

Through history I know about how some men have treated women, as sexual conquest, items of pleasure, ownership and other endeavors. Now this is being done to men today, in the bars, life, and especially the courtrooms. So, am I supposed to be punished for the sins of my forefathers? My EX-wife sure thinks it is a good idea.

After all, some say all is fair in love and war. I say, love is war. Just be sure what you are fighting for.

CHAPTER 1

AS I LISTEN to my cell phone ring, I slowly wake up and realize I am lying on the ground in a fetal position. I try to focus my eyes, and I discover that this is no easy task. I look around at the perfectly spaced trees and wonder how I got here . . . and where is here. As I struggle to sit up I realize my twenty-five year old body is not as mobile as usual. I try to reach for my still ringing cell phone only to discover my hands are cuffed behind my back.

My mind begins to reel as I try to remember the night before, or events that would have gotten me here. The throbbing from the back of my head could only be the result of a hard blow. I roll from my side to a bowing position on my knees with my forehead on the ground. I sit on my knees slowly and continue to look around. I see no one, but I hear a car in the distance. I can barely see it speed by, but I hear it like it is just feet away from me. That must be the way out of here.

My cell phone rings again and I look at my waist and see it clipped to my belt. I roll back to my side and like a contortionist I roll into a tight ball and place my legs through my handcuffed arms. I look at the cuffs as my vision slowly clears from the blur of the morning air and a feeling of being smacked on the back of the head. I grab my cell phone from my hip and look to see who is calling me. It’s Dave, my friend and my student. Wonder if he knows why I am in this forest and handcuffed.

Dave . . . good morning! Ouch! The pain of opening my mouth was greater than I expected.

Dave asks frantically, Where are you?

I look around the forest and answer, In a perfectly manicured forest, then I glance at my watch, We are supposed to have a lesson here shortly aren’t we? Think you could come and pick me up?

Sure where are you? Half the state is looking for you!

Dave, I have no idea where I am. I hear a car in the distance going down a road; I look in that direction and try to locate the sound. I see the car vaguely pass by about a mile away. Dave, I see a road and I am going to walk that direction. My phone is almost dead, so please call me back in five minutes. I hang up and begin walking.

I bounce from tree to tree like I’m walking on the deck of a ship in a storm and study the handcuffs. These handcuffs are expensive toys, like kinky sex type. There is a safety release on the side of the lock. I press the lock and they release from my wrist. Feeling relieved that my hands are free I rub my wrists and try to help the blood flow freely again. My fingers are bluish in color, but that could be either from the cold or the cuffs.

I reach the road and I am a half a mile from an intersection. I look both ways and I think I recognize the road. A car zooms past and I move towards the forest like a frightened animal. What the heck is that about, I am not scared of cars. Before last night I wasn’t scared of most things. Whoever did this to me took something away from me and gave me something new. They stole my courage and gave me fear.

As I reach the intersection my cell phone rings again. This time it is my mother. I answer and she screams, Where are you? I tell her the intersection and she tells me the Calvary will be coming. I sit on the ditch bank at the intersection and rub my pounding, throbbing head. I dispose of the leaves and twigs in my blond hair, I rub the knot on my head and apply some pressure to try and easy the pain. My phone rings again and I notice the number, Hey Sweetie.

Where are you? What happened to you last night I waited and waited for you? Lisa, I have no idea what happened? I look at the passing traffic and I think about the night before. As I am about to speak the phone goes dead. I look at the device and then clip the phone back to my hip.

As I watch the road for the Calvary to arrive I sit and ponder the night before. I remember teaching my class and everyone leaving. I remember turning off all the lights and locking the building. Then it gets fuzzy. I remember locking the door and throwing the hood of my old goretex military jacket on my head to protect me from the rain and cold wind. I remember walking towards my car . . . I look up at the ambulance rushing towards me with siren blaring and from the other direction a state trooper is bearing down on me also.

Both vehicles pull to the side of the road next to me, the Emergency Medical Technicians rush over to my side along with a state trooper. They begin badgering me with questions and I try to answer each one. At that moment my mother and girlfriend pull up to where we are sitting on the side of the road. The EMT’s walk me over to the ambulance. As they sit me inside the ambulance my mother and girlfriend rush over to hug me. As I embrace my mother I ask, How is my son?

My mother gives a concerned smile and whispers, Worried, but he is fine and with your father. I begin telling what I know of the story and they all stare at me like I was the President giving a speech as they hang on my every word.

The paramedic bandage my head and continue asking questions, Do you think you may have been sexually molested Sir? I look at my audience and say, I sure hope not! I don’t think I was, but I told you guys what I remember. A team of criminal investigators arrive and begin to scour the area for clues. I watch them as I continue being treated in the ambulance.

The local sheriff arrives and begins asking the same questions. Who do you think would do something like this to you?

I look at the man, Sheriff, I know who did this to me and I know why, but proving it is going to be a different story.

Looking at the ground and then to his men in the forest, Who do you know, did this to you Sir?

I look at my new girlfriend and then the sheriff, My soon to be ex-wife.

She wants you dead?

She wants the world. She is giving me every reason to attack her so she can have me locked up or dead. I look at the black deputy standing with the Sheriff and the deputy says, We’ll bring her in for questioning."

You better get her cronies also. Her brother, boyfriend and . . . Thinking about my next comment I decide it is best I shut my mouth.

And who Sir?

I am not sure, I saw no one unfortunately.

Maybe we need to get prints off of your clothes then.

I nod my head in agreement and wince in pain from the head movement.

At the hospital, they place me on an IV drip to hydrate me and give me the missing nutrients my body is craving. Here are some clothes for you Honey. Thanks Lisa. Are you sure you want to be with me? My divorce has to be one of the worst on record.

Rubbing my shoulders she says, I haven’t been with you. I look at her oddly and say, I mean as a couple, not Biblically.

She smiles and chuckles as she says, I’ve liked you since junior high school. I was into bad boys back then and you were a good guy, so I never pursued you. Now look at you, a bad boy after all.

I smile and wonder how, me being attacked and left for dead in the forest would make me a bad boy but it must be guilt-by-association. I obviously married Satan’s spawn.

I dress and Lisa watches and says, You realize you missed our first time? Baffled by her comment I say, Our first time?

Yes, last night was going to be our first time.

How could I miss our first time?

You weren’t there!

So I missed our first opportunity, not our first time. You didn’t start without me did you?

She slaps my arm, No, I wouldn’t do that!

I hug the beautiful blonde and say, I bet that my ex knew last night was going to be our first time and that is what this whole ordeal was about. My mouth drops as a thought enters my head and I say, I get it! The symbolism . . . She is pretty sick, and not as discreet as I thought! Then the nurse walking past looks at me and Lisa says, What are you talking about? I don’t understand? "Her family name was Forest and I was left for dead in the forest."

Oh, I get it! That is a pretty strong case, maybe you should tell the police. I smile at her sarcasm and say, I see what you’re saying, but I get her message. That is what I have been trying to tell everyone. As I embrace the girl I say, I will understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore.

She pulls away and says, This is not going to keep me away from you. Our children are friends, and we both have been through a lot, but we will survive this. We are stronger than this crazy ex of yours.

She hugs me and I think to myself, I don’t think so, but I will give it a try.

I look around the hospital emergency room and realize my ex will stop at nothing to get her way. I wish I had realized how spoiled she was before I entered the sacred bond of marriage with her. Of course she hid that type stuff back then. Guess we have to live and learn. I don’t have the worse problems in the world, but today it sure seems like I do . . . at least to me.

After being examined by the medical staff, I begin to wonder which was worse, being probed by doctors all morning or being left for dead last night. Finding out I was not sexually molested was pretty cool also. Walking out of the hospital my mother asks, What are you going to tell your son? I look at Lisa and then back at my mother, I said I would never lie to him, but I am not going to offer any information either. Especially when I am not sure of what happened. What does he know?

Nothing I just told him we were going to pick you up. He didn’t question it, with your flying schedule he is use to you being gone at weird times. I look at the ground and think. That is not good; I don’t want him to get use to his dad being gone all the time. At the same time I do not want to give up flying either. So, he is in school now? My mother nods her head and says, Yes, how is your head? Sore, but I’ll be fine.

CHAPTER 2

REFLECTING ON HOW I got where I am today, I see no reason why things have gotten as bad as they have. I look around my office walls for answers, but see nothing but flying propaganda. I think about why I have been jilted by the woman I loved and adored. I would have done anything for her and now I am doing everything I can just to stay alive and out of jail. What could have made her so unhappy? I was a loving caring husband; I loved our child and her family. Could it be like my mother says, The girls today are the soapbox generation? Basically meaning by her definition, that they see the life on the little screen and that is what they think life is or should be like. Just like TV with all the drama, the intrigue, the constant action, the wealth, the adultery and betrayal. According to my mother these are all accepted practices now days and the court system is designed for these women. The lawyers love these women because they mean money to them and the courts.

I thought my wife was joking when she told me as a child she planned her wedding and divorce at the same point in her life. Guess I was wrong. Now I will be the object of her plan instead of the object of her affection. She has already proven to me that the law is on her side and even after this abduction of hers; I bet they have nothing on her. She will probably tell them she was home making cookies with her whole family watching her every move or some kind of alibi.

What is it about the seventh of each month? Neither she nor I were born that day, but the past three months things have gone bad on this day. I do all kinds of math equations to discover any significances of this date and come up with nothing. I think of our history together and come up with nothing.

Mr. Allen, I have inspected the aircraft and think we are ready for departure. I look at my student, You think? So we’re trusting our safety of the flight on your thought?

Um, I guess so?

I smile, Then let’s go flying. I walk out to the airplane with the lady and watch her look the plane over one last time as nervous students do. I stand under the wing of the high wing Cessna airplane and say, This might be a problem, pointing at the rope still tied to the wing tie down hook and attached to the ground, we might want to remove this. She rushes to the right side of the aircraft and quickly removes the rope, smiling at me she says, Thought it might be better to do that right before we left so the plane would not get blown away.

I chuckle at her, Nice try, but there is no wind today. Just be careful not to start bad habits by missing steps in your checklist. I open the door of the plane and say, Your husband’s plane is a low wing airplane and you would have looked silly trying to taxi away with it still tied down. Looking humbled but understanding she walks around the airplane and says, Got it, stick to the checklist.

She begins reading her checklist and goes through the steps of starting the engine. She does it perfectly and I smile at her accomplishment. We begin to taxi to the end of the runway and do a final check before takeoff. Using her checklist she does everything on the checklist and then looks at me and says, I think we are ready? I look at the cockpit, Think? As Pilot-in-Command you’d better be sure. The safety of the flight is dependant on you. She does another quick scan, I am ready for departure then!

Very well, let’s bore some holes in the sky. We check for traffic and roll onto the runway at our tiny little airport. We takeoff and I give the instructions of our flight again and then I stare out of the side window thinking about the events of my life to this point. I think of the mistakes in my life and the fun things in my life, and discover that some of the events were at the same time.

I explain the training maneuvers again that I wish to see my student perform. As she begins the maneuvers I zone out in thought. I feel the forces of gravity and she asks, How was that? I look at the altimeter and say, Not bad just keep a close eye on the horizon and your altitude. She nods in agreement and continues flying. I go back to staring at the ground as she continues to practice the maneuvers.

After a half hour of flight I felt I was neither doing her or myself any good, so I tell her to turn back to the airport. As we return to the airport I realize the things that set my wife’s wheels in motion and now I just need to see if it is repairable. That woman is the devil, I know the significance of the number seven now.

I sit watching my student set up for our approach to land. When she turns final approach she looks at me and says, Ok, you have the plane. Do a good landing for me. Instinctively I take the controls and begin flying, Hey, that is my line not yours! I’m still the instructor, aren’t I?

She smiles sheepishly at me, Just show me one more time.

Smiling at her I say, Since this is my favorite part of flying, I’ll show you one more time. Stay on the controls with me though.

She places her hand on the flight yoke, Yes Sir! Let’s get this baby on the ground. Smiling I continue to set up for the landing, and explaining every move I make and why to her. After our textbook landing we immediately takeoff again, so my student will actually learn to land the plane, by herself.

Thinking about my discovery, I become anxious wanting answers from my wife . . . soon to be ex-wife. I become like a little kid at Christmas wanting to open the presents, but my anxiety wants to call her.

We do another landing and she looks at me, We’re done, great lesson! I smile sarcastically at the nervous woman and say, You have to quit stealing all my lines.

But I pay you very well to put up with me and my fear of flying.

As she taxis off the runway I say, Yes you do, but let’s remember why we are here . . . She blurts out, Yeah, to conquer my fear of flying.

Yes and no. We want to make sure you can land your husband’s plane if something happens to him.

She looks at me and says, And to conquer my fear of flying. I nod knowingly to her and she smiles.

We tie the plane down and I walk in my office. After my student leaves I begin dialing every number possible to contact my wife. I think I can fix this if I can just talk to her. I dial her cell phone again and look out my office window. The sheriff pulls into a parking space in the parking lot. I hang up the phone and think, not again! When will I ever learn!

The door to my office opens and I say to the sheriff, Sorry Sir, I can’t take you flying today. I’m all booked up. Without even a smile he begins reading the restraining order, You are not to contact in anyway . . . This is the second time she has pulled this, so I know what he is going to say, it’s tough being such a threat to her. If this is the way she wants it, then that is what she’ll get. I tried to be civil, but those days are over! She wants to treat me as a criminal, well now I will be. As he continues to read a voice comes over the officers hand held radio. The voice says in police jargon, "He has just tried to contact her again and she has