Free Reckless Endangerment by Robert K. Tanenbaum

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    “That’s your gun, Joan,” Marlene said gently. “You have to take it with you. No,” she added as Savitch started to put it in her purse, “you have to load it. It don’t work without the bullets.”
    Savitch started her cry then, during which Marlene held her and tried to say all the right things, thinking it was better she got this over with now, and also that she, Marlene, was perhaps the only woman in the city who regularly left for work with a supply of both bullets and Kleenex.
    “I can’t do this, Marlene,” she said, snuffling. “I really … I just can’t! ”
    “Uh-huh. Well, maybe you can’t. I can’t make you do it, and in fact, even advising you to do it is probably illegal. All I can do is make it possible for you to protect yourself, and advise you as to your rights of self-protection.”
    Marlene disliked the sound of her own voice, too dull, too lawyerly, as she generated these necessary and familiar words. “You know that your ex is getting out of prison on Tuesday, after serving five and a half for first-degree assault. On you. Before that he served an eighteen-month sentence for second-degree assault. On you also. After that first stretch he went directly to where you were living and committed the crime for which he did the second stretch. Okay, so what do you think he’s going to do the minute he gets off the bus at the Port Authority?”
    The woman seemed to ignore the question. “I can’t do it,” she wept. “I … just … can’t.”
    “Yeah, that’s a possibility. Some people can’t,” Marlene agreed.
    Savitch glared wetly at her. “It doesn’t seem to bother you. ”
    “What? Wait, you think I like this? You think this is fun for me? I hate this. The only thing I hate worse is when the guy kills the woman and the kids before he shoots himself.”
    Renewed crying. Marlene led the woman to a metal folding chair and sat her down in it. She knelt beside her and held her hand. “There’s something wrong with his brain, Joan. I wish there was something we could do for him besides what we’ve been talking about, but I don’t know of anything. The law kind of stalls out on stuff like this. It frowns on locking people up for things they’re probably going to do. But the law allows you to protect yourself with deadly force under a particular set of conditions. If you’re accosted on the street, unless you’re in imminent fear of your life or of grievous bodily harm, you have to retreat. You can’t just spot the guy across the way and shoot. If he approaches with a weapon, then you are in immediate fear, et cetera, and you can use deadly force. In your home or place of work, you’re under no obligation to retreat. If he refuses to leave, you can shoot him. And, Joan? This is very important. If you draw a gun, you must be prepared to use it. It’s not the movies, where you have a conversation while you’re pointing. Draw bang bang, just like we’ve been practicing. Do you understand?”
    Marlene wasn’t sure if this was penetrating at all.
    “Joan? Do you understand what I’m telling you? This is a legal alternative to imminent death or serious injury to you or someone else. Like your kids.”
    “I could leave. I could hide someplace.”
    Marlene kept her tone neutral. “Right. And there’s a woman I know who helps people in your situation do just that. I’ll put you in touch with her if you want. I don’t want to sell you on something you’re not completely comfortable with.”
    “Why don’t you?” asked the woman, reaching for some theme that would distract her from her predicament.
    “Do get-aways? Because I have a moral objection to asking an innocent person to live in terror for the rest of her life. You have a life here, your job, your kids’ school, your friends and relatives. You could give it all up and trade it for the chance he won’t find you out in Tucson or wherever, but I personally think that’s wrong. My thought is, you defend