Ooh no!________________________________________Page 1 Peter Peterson was definitely a confused man. He loved his beautiful wife and four lovely children, comprising of one son and three exceptionally gifted daughters. However the pressures of life had changed Peter's whole life and he was no longer capable of displaying his affections to Lilian, his needed to be loved wife. Now at one time Peter was the ultimate romantic, had a gift of gap, and was full of pleasant surprises. His whole make up was something that every man desired to be, always happy, always smiling and he could even compliment the bad! These days he wasn't much of a husband anymore, and definitely couldn't be called a father. His mind strayed, he drank heavily, forgot a lot, and got irritated easily. Poor Lilian got involved with another man, who was able to show her the affections she'd been missing lately. Peter was in love, and yet he wasn't in love anymore, after fourteen years in a happy marriage. The weather was breaking and spring was in the air. The snow had melted and Detroit was waking up. People stirred around more freely, and shredded, their winter gear. One Monday evening Lilian sadly told Peter that she was tired of living like this, and she felt a divorce was in their best interest. As a matter of fact, she had been to see a lawyer earlier that day, and he was processing the papers as they spoke. Peter knew he couldn't let his family walk out on him now, for he would not survive, Peter Peterson was a thirty-five year old black man caught in the spiderweb of life, not real old, but not young either and changes were throwing his equilibrium off balance, his morals were at stake. Petey as his mother called him, was indeed one of the nicest guys you'd ever want to meet. He maintained a weekly correspondence with his mother by way of the telephone. His brother Paul was a stranger, Peter and Paul had fallen out as teenagers and never made up. It was a situation where Peter felt his mother loved Paul more. The jealousy really got out of hand after their father died. Their mother had distributed out more of their fathers personal items to Paul than Peter. Communication had ended there, and while Peter would call his mother, he would not visit her, and refused to discuss anything about Paul. Paul had gotten married, and had a son. They visited his mother's often. He never called Peter either so Peter knew nothing about Paul's family. So other than his mother, Peter would be all alone if his wife took his family away. After being served with divorce papers, Peter Peterson, a tall, rugged, good-looking black man was starting to degrade. Poor Peter had nothing left but his job at the acme automobile plant. Where he'd worked for ten years as an inspector. This was all he had left, believe it or not!
Ooh no!____________________________________________Page 2 Five months later the divorce was final and Peter now lived alone, in a small one bedroom lower flat on the northwest side of Detroit. He was able to keep his late model car, a nice looking red Oldsmobile through the divorce process. The divorce had been a bitter war, but finally it was over. It was time for Mr. Peterson to get on with the rest of his life. After coming home from work one sunny evening, a day where nothing could possibly go wrong, Peter took the mail from the mailbox. Rifling through the bills, one letter stood out, it was from the Wayne county friend of the court. He tore it open apprehensively. If anyone had been standing next to him at that moment, they would have thought the letter bared news of death in the family, by his sadden expression. Enclosed a long with the letter a little gray handbook fell to the floor. It's cover read the third judicial circuit of Michigan. The letter began with Lilian Peterson plaintiff vs. Peter Peterson defendant. There was tons of legal terms that Peter didn't understand, however there was a list of his children's names, birth dates and ages. The package of letters was very thick. Some were stapled together, some weren't, but in the center of one page in bold letters were the words 'child support' underneath it read 'it is further ordered that the defendant, Peter Peterson, shall pay to the friend of the court for support of the minor children hereto; the sum of forty dollars ($40.00) per week, per child commencing immediately! His mind began to race, as he summed the total amount to one hundred and sixty dollars a week! He dropped his head then dropped the letters to the floor. He decided this would be a good time for a real strong drink. Weeks had passed when the personnel office called Peter in to inform him of the new deduction, they were required by law to extract from his paycheck. When payday came around Mr. Peterson almost broke into tears when he saw what was left of his earnings. After itemizing his sills, Peter realized that 14e could no longer afford his nice looking red Oldsmobile, as a matter of fact, he couldn't afford to own any car. This meant he would have to give the car back to the bank and start riding the bus. Peter wondered how any government could be that cruel and heartless! He resented the world even more, he thought a30ut taking on a second job. "then the courts would just take even more money," he thought. The whole world was now his enemy. He felt there was no way of winning in this society. Peter didn't really want to win, but badly wished to just break even. Claudia posed in front of her bedroom mirror and smiled at her still shapely figure. The dress that her husband had surprised her with for the holidays, fit her body to a tee, and it was her favorite color, red. She considered the hard work at the health spa to be the sole formula responsible for her fine 37-24-37 figure. The sun rays peeking through the window reflected a golden glow on her velvet smooth skin. She felt the sun was much too kind. She thought she needed a few areas touched up, like her fingernails, her hair, and a good hot sauna, but all in all
Ooh no!__________________________________Page 3 she felt beautiful. This night on the town with the girls would be perfect. They hadn't been out together in a while. "that Shirley, she's always bragging about how well maintained she is, and how heads turn when she walks into a room, well I'm not conceited like Shirley, but I ain't bad myself, for a mature married woman," she told her herself silently as she began to move in front of the mirror with confidence. "not many young girls look as good as this," she thought out loud, smiling. This was the Memorial Day weekend, she would pick up thirty Pounds of chitterlings today, clean and cook them tomorrow so That they could take them over to her mother-in-law's on Sunday. Momma always had big dinners on the holidays for the entire Family, so Claudia decided that she would help out this time. Her thoughts shattered as Michael her five year old son busted Into the bedroom shouting "mommy, mommy you gonna take me over Grandmas today?" Claudia admired her little handsome, destined To be a man someday son. "Yes Michael, mommy's taking you to Grandma's today. Mommy has some shopping to do, and then I'm Going out with auntie Shirley tonight," she said. "So can I Spend the night?" Michael asked. She told him that he would Have to stay the night because she'd be getting in late. Claudia really liked her mother-in-law, there was never a problem with personalities or grandma keeping little Michael for that matter. Claudia thought she'd better hurry up, because the malls and grocery stores were really crowded around the holiday seasons, and she needed to pick up a few things from both. She took the roast out of the oven and decided to leave her husband a note. She wrote "baby, every things done, all you have to do is heat up the food. I'm dropping Michael off over to momma's. Shirley and I are going out for a couple of drinks tonight. See you later, love you." She stuck the note on the refrigerator. Claudia and Michael left the house. She loved the feel of the new Lincoln; it had so much room, and was so cushiony. It felt like she was riding on air, as they pulled onto seven mile road heading west. It was lunchtime; Peter went across the street to the liquor store to cash his check. The store cashed a lot of the plant workers checks. It was good business. Once inside the store, the workers would buy things, so it was good business to cash their checks. After Peter cashed his check, he went to the deli counter for a sandwich. There was lady in line, in front of Peter. "Man she's built like a coco-cola bottle," Peter thought. The lady turned around as if she'd heard Peter's thoughts. She smiled at him. Peter smiled back, and wondered if maybe he had spoken his thoughts out loud, then said hello. After exchanging a series of pleasantries Peter asked if he could call her sometimes and maybe they could go out. She was very positive toward Peter, and responded with, "sure here is my number, call me." This made Peter's day, he had a chance at life after all. Finally he’d met someone, maybe, just maybe, she's what he
Ooh no!________________________________________Page 4 needed to save his life! He thought, "she's fine, and had the hots for me." The next four hours at work, were the easiest hours he'd had in a long while. Peter thought about this lady named Pat the whole bus ride home. "Maybe I'll call her this evening, yeah that's what I'll do, I'll ask her to go to the movies with me tonight," he thought. Mr. Peterson walked into his home, stretched out across his couch and reached for the telephone. He called information, and then after getting the phone number to the movie theatre, he called to get the times the movie started. He hadn’t been to a show in a long time, "well it's time to start living again," he thought. He dialed the number on the sheet of paper in his hand. Excitedly he said, "Hello, may I speak to Pat?" The voice on the other end replied, "this is her." "Hi this is Peter Peterson, we met at the store today, and I was wondering if you would like to go and see a movie with me tonight?" A confident Peter stated more so than asked. Pat said, "Sure, I'd like that." Peter was ecstatic, he asked For directions to her house, and what were the closest bus stops Near her house. There was a pause on the other end, then pat Said, "bus stop? What's the bus stop got to do with anything?" Peter told her about his transportation problems and that at this time He catches the bus everywhere he goes. Pat exploded, and told Mr. Peterson that she didn't catch a bus to go nowhere, and she definitely wasn't going to go on a date on the bus. She also informed him that there were a lot of men begging for her to go out, and they all have cars, and if he thought for a minute that she was going to stand on some street corner waiting for a bus, he must be crazy. Pat then told Peter to call her when he could afford to take her out in style, like a man should. This stung poor Peter, he held the receiver for a long time after she had hung up, he cursed, his head got blurry, he got enraged, shook his head to try and clear it, and decided he needed a drink, things were definitely not working out, he needed to let go, needed to release the pressure, needed to do something, too much build up, too much pressure. he began to wonder if he was losing his mind, "I need a drink," He said to nobody but himself. Peter started to cry, then started to laugh hysterically, Peter Peterson walked to the store. He strolled through the alley near McNichols street, head hung down he spotted something shinning in the evening sun. Curiosity leads him to step over a pile of trash to investigate the shiny object. He reached to pick up a nickel plated revolver. His first reaction after determining that he had stumbled across a gun was to look around and see if anyone was watching. Quickly he stashed the gun in his pants. Peter continued on to the store. At the store Peter bought a fifth of vodka and hurried back home. After returning home, he put on some blues, poured big shots of liquor, drank and listened to the singer intensely. The singer sang about people doing him
Ooh no!__________________________________________page 5 wrong, life being like an earthquake swallowing him up, and about somebody got to pay for his life's destruction. The music was getting to Peter. He felt the musician understood his problems and wrote this song especially for him. Peter knew what the musician was telling him, go out and make it right! The music played, Peter was hypnotized, he went to the top dresser drawer, and pulled out the nickel plated thirty-eight revolver. Its power glowed in his hand, as he pointed it at the mirror. Peter Peterson had never owned a gun in his life, but he knew its power, just pull the trigger, instant destruction, everyone feared its power. Now he held the power. He began to understand that he could make people do whatever he wanted them to do with this new found power. He didn't really know exactly how to operate this mechanical destroyer of life. He'd seen them used on television, and he'd seen the neighborhood kids pull them on each other, but he didn't even know how to load a gun, less known, try to shoot someone. Tonight would be different, he would be respected, because he would carry the power, and become ruler of the night! Being a very strong man, Peter could hold his liquor pretty good. Liquor also gives a person a certain amount of power, at least a kind of perceived power. Even though he could hold his liquor very well, he like the rest of us was also vulnerable to its effects. The most dangerous combination in the world had just shook hands with Peter. The liquor and the gun! Peter Peterson decided he was ready for action tonight and he was unstoppable as well as unstoppable, somebody was going to recognize his power tonight, because tonight was his! As Peter started down the street towards McNichols, he stumbled slightly, the wind blew through his nostrils, and he straightened up somewhat, but he was a man on a mission. His mission was not clear, but something needed to be done. A gang of kids was headed towards him, he wondered what he would do, would he pull his gun, and if so would he use it, could he actually shoot somebody? One of the kids noticed his facial expression, his eyes were weird, a strange bloodshot red, he's crazy thought the kid, he told his friends, to move out of the mans way, that something's wrong with the man. They parted like the red sea, and Peter moved on. He moved like a creature of the night seeking death and destruction for anything in his path. He boarded the westbound McNichols bus and adjusted the gun in his waistband, headed blindly into the night. His mind set firmly on assigning the role of victim to someone else other than himself. For he decided, that he'd had enough. Being at the wrong place at the wrong time either you or I could become his victim. The bus passed Greenfield road, Southfield freeway, and outer drive blvd, then Peter rung the bell to get off. Strolling towards the bright yellow lights, where the sign read cold beer
Ooh no!__________________________________________Page 6 and wine, his mini) started to click, "I'll bet they have a cash register full of money, as soon as the parking lot clears I'll go in and help them make the right investment choice," Peter thought to himself. Never having done anything like this before, he started to get a little nervous, began to have second thoughts. The alcohol was beginning to wear off, but he shook his head to clear it. He had come too far; he was indeed a man on a mission of revenge. No more cars in the lot, last customer coming out of the store, time to make a move. Peter move quickly through the store's front door. No one inside, he looked to the right, then he looked to the left, "perfect, all clear," he thought. Peter reached for his gun, but it suddenly occurred to him that the store clerk was behind bullet proof glass, "no good, no good, there's no way to get to the cash register," he thought. The clerk asked if he could help, and Peter turned and ran out of the front door, down the street swearing to himself "I blew it, should have thought it out." "people here are too tensed, I need to go to the suburbs where it's more relaxed," he thought. This idea sounded good but he had a slight problem, how would he get to the suburbs? I can't just jump on a bus and rob someplace then jump on a bus and come home," he quietly said to himself. "That’s it, I got the power to take a car and go where ever I want to go, just have to find someone with a car, and take it," he told himself. Peter turned left down a dark street and started walking, looking for a victim. His face features had changed drastically. His eyes were bloodshot red and slightly closed like a flag at half mass. His nose spread wide with anger. Peter’s mouth frowned while his forehead wrinkled with demonic lines. His appearance was menacing enough to make the devil himself turn and run the other way. He lurked down the poorly lit street stalking through the shadows avoiding the street lights. Claudia pulled the Lincoln Town car into her driveway, thinking that she had shopped a little too long. She should have been back a couple of hours a go. Now she only had an hour before she was scheduled to pick up Shirley. Wearily she thought, “I wish someone was around to help carry these bags for me.” After clicking off the radio and taking the key out of the ignition, Claudia got out of the car and opened the back door shaking her head in amazement, she thought “how did I accumulate all of these bags of groceries and clothes?” Pressed against a tree in the shadows, Peter watched the white Lincoln come to a stop a couple of houses away. As he slowly approached the driveway, he noticed the woman getting the bags out of the back seat. She was alone. It was the car, that he wanted, but he had to be careful. Careful because someone could be in the house waiting on her return. If she sees his face he would have to kill her. Now is the time, he had to be quick!
Ooh no!_________________________________________Page 7 He pulled the gun out, looked around, nobody visible, he made his move. He stalked like a feline, silent, swift and aggressively. He pounced on his prey. The thirty-eight was pressed firmly against Claudia's spine. "give me your car keys," Peter demanded. Claudia caught bent over in the back seat of the car with bags in her arms, froze. Fear quickly enveloped her body, her heart began to pound rapidly, her reaction was a shocked, "ooh god no." Peter told her, "back out slowly, and give me the keys." He thought "if I let her go, the police will be on my tail in no time, if I take her with me part of the way, it'll buy me some time, better hurry up," he thought to himself. Peter placed the gun to the side of her head and demanded she get into the car. He got in behind her and said, "cooperate with me and you won't get hurt, I need your car, and I need to make sure you don't call the police just yet, so you're going to ride with me for a ways, so don't be no fool and you'll be alright." Claudia responded, "where are we going? Why do you need my car? My husband just bought me this car." Peter aimed the pistol at her face and said ' "shut up, don't ask me no questions." As Peter backed the long car out of the driveway, Claudia wondered where her husband was, he should have been home, then none of this would be happening to her, now some stranger was forcing her at gun point to someplace unknown, to do only god knows what. Thoughts ran through her mind "do I know this man? Who is he and what does he want?" She studied his features, seems like she knew him, but then again she didn't. Peter enjoyed the feel of the big car, more power a long with the gun, which allowed him to enjoy this luxury ride. He thought about his red automobile, "this was much better, but I couldn't afford to keep my little car less known an automobile as expensive as this one," he thought. "just look at her, yeah she's scared now, because I have the power, but I'll bet she's just like all the rest of them chicks, look at the way she's dressed, think she's something, but I got the power," Peter thought. He drove across eight mile road leaving the city of Detroit behind. Traveling north on beech road. There were no street lights only lights from occasional passing cars. The abundance of tall trees Shielded out any possible light from the moon. The scarcity of traffic nearly eliminated any hope of lights this night. Peter turned off his headlights and turned right into a secluded Beechwoods park. Here there was just enough moon light peeking through the car windows for Peter to see Claudia's face, and for Claudia to see Peter's face and the shinning metal pistol. Fear once again gripped Claudia; tears began to run down her cheeks. Her breasts heaved up and down suppressing her cry, she was too afraid to cry.
Ooh no!__________________________________________Page 8 Peter asked Claudia if she had any money. Claudia was trying to respond, but couldn't get it out, she was too emotional at that moment. Peter reached for her purse. She clutched her purse tight to her bosom, with tears pouring heavily now. He grabbed, and she struggled. At that moment he noticed for the first time, her big golden brown breasts moving up and down. He looked dazed, then looked again at her tear stained face. Peter thought, "my god you're beautiful." He felt a stimulating feeling that he hadn't felt in a long time. He spoke, "I want you, even though you're a slut, you're a fine slut, and it's been a long time since I've felt like this." Claudia finally let out a scream, "ooh no, please don't, take the money, take the purse, take the car but please don't Peter thought, "hell I got the power, and I can have Anything I want," then he reached and grabbed the front of her red Dress and ripped it open with his left hand. In his right hand the gun reflected in the moon light, it reflected death if she resisted. He began to rip at her panties, his fever grew hotter, he then pulled his pants down, and forced his swollen penis inside of her. Claudia screamed but no one could hear her screams. Peter breathed heavily in Claudia's ear, as his animal passion began to subside. Peter knew then that the gun was real power, look at what he was able to do to this woman, she liked it, she had no choice but to like it, the power told her to like it. He sat back, and Claudia lay there helpless, crying, she had been violated. Mr. Peterson was on top of the world, he had just gotten revenge on all of the no good women of the world. Claudia was now dazed, she could hear but not speak, just react. Peter then commanded her out of the car, he didn't want to leave her wandering around out here in the suburbs so he forced her into the trunk of the big white Lincoln and slammed it shut. Before closing the trunk he firmly told Claudia that if she screamed or made any noise he would pull the car over and empty the gun into the trunk. Peter drove out of the park with Claudia locked silently in the trunk of her car. He wanted badly to take something from society it didn't matter what at this point, but money would do fine. It was late, he spotted lights up ahead. When he approached the intersection, low and behold, a seven eleven party store. He cruised around, no customers, it was perfect. Peter parked the car and peeked through the window of the store. There was bullet proofed glass just like before, protecting the cash register, but no one was behind the glass. He curiously looked on and found the door leading from the clerks area behind the glass opened. Peter looked on. "well look at there," he said to himself. The clerk was putting pop in the cooler. Peter thought that he'd better move quick. He entered the seven eleven, the clerk said to himself, "damn, I should be back behind the glass, better get back there now,"
Ooh no!_________________________________________Page 9 Peter pulled the thirty-eight on the clerk, "not so fast, you see I've got the power in my hand, and I want all the money, remember, the money's not yours, and it ain't worth dying over," Peter told the clerk. He made the clerk lay on the floor, after taking the money from the cash register he ran out of the seven eleven. Peter jumped into the Lincoln and started it up, just as the clerk came running out of the store behind him firing his own gun. Peter turned the car around on two wheels. Claudia was thrown to the other side of the trunk banging her head against the hood of the trunk. It was very hot and dark inside the car's trunk. Claudia feared for her life after hearing the gun shots, she wondered what was going on, and began to panic. This confirmed it, the man was crazy. She started screaming to no avail. She screamed at the top of her lungs as Peter sped back to Detroit. His head was throbbing, the pain was intense, the alcohol had worn off, and Peter was feeling very sick. The screaming was getting to him. Peter stopped the car, got out and began to run, after a couple of blocks he tossed the gun and flagged down a checker taxi cad and headed home. After arriving home he tore his clothes off and jumped into his bed covering his head with the blanket. The police were on the look out for a late model, four-door, white Lincoln used in a holdup of a seven eleven in Southfield. Detroit police officers were called to a location where neighbors heard loud noises coming from the trunk of a parked car. Upon arrival at the scene they found Claudia screaming hysterically in the trunk, she was scarcely clad, partly from the rape and partly from the shaken up ride in the trunk. She was sweating profusely. The officers rushed her to the hospital. After waking up from a sedative, the police questioned her thoroughly to get a full description of the suspect. The hospital called her husband to pick her up. After explaining all the events of last night to her husband, she took her medicine and slept most of the day. That Saturday evening Claudia woke up well rested. She wanted to cook for the holiday dinner, but the food she had bought was no good, it had spoiled. So her husband ran out to the market to get a ham since Claudia still insisted on cooking, he had tried to talk her out of it, saying that everyone would understand, she'd been through a lot and should be resting. Claudia wasn't having that, she needed to get busy to forget. Peter Peterson woke up late Saturday evening, his head was throbbing, trying to forget the past twelve hours, trying to clear his mind. "a nightmare, that's what it was, just a damn nightmare, boy I gotta quit drinking that stuff," he thought. He told himself over and over again that there was no car, no woman, and no gun. He wanted it all to be a bad dream.
Ooh no!_________________________________________Page 10 Claudia's husband kept trying to convince her to go back to bed, but she was up and not thinking about going back to sleep, as a matter of fact she didn't want to think about anything and asked her husband to respect that. It was Sunday, Memorial Day at last. Peter's mother called, she wanted for Peter to come over and have dinner. She told him it's been so long since she'd seen him. She told him that mothers don't last forever. Peter began to feel guilty. He was still down and really didn't want to be seen like this, but decided maybe he needed to be with the family, maybe this was what he needed. His mother convinced him to come and talk with Paul, let by gones be by gones. It's been too long. Peter arrived at his mother's house that day. Mrs. Peterson was so happy to see her older son, she told him how great he looked, and they hugged. She led him into the den where his brother Paul was sitting watching television. They stared at each other for a few seconds, then they both broke down and tearfully embraced each other. They sat down and talked about their lives. Peter told Paul about his divorce, Paul questioned, "you mean to tell me that I have nieces and nephews that I never met?" "Well I got married too, and have a son. My wife's on her way with my little boy," Paul said. He told Peter how glad he was to see him, and how he always talked about him, my wife thinks you're just a ghost or something. The elder Mrs. Peterson called out, "Paul your wife's here, introduce your family to Petey." Paul told Peter to come on and meet the little lady. As they reached the kitchen, Paul's wife froze for a moment, then she screamed, 00h no, that's him, that’s the bastard who raped me, that’s him!" Mr. Peter Peterson stood momentarily mute, as he realize the bad dream was real, he only said "God ooh no!"
The moral to this story is twofold: 1) Pressure can expand and destroy, when not properly controlled. Control is only maintained by a clear head and strong mind.
2) If you unleash your fury on a stranger, you may soon find that the stranger is really not a stranger. fade to black ----
copyright 1992 Rodney Oliver
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