“Pepper spray,” I said. “Why? You want a taste?” I could tell he was considering his options and wondered if he would be stupid enough to take a swing at me right here in broad daylight, in front of several witnesses who had stopped what they were doing to see what was going on between us. After a few tense moments, he backed down and held up his hands.
“Not here, Wheeler,” he said. “But mark my words. I’ll be back.” I caught the old movie reference and almost chuckled, but didn’t. I waited for him to get out of sight and put the pepper spray back in my holster. Then I ended the video and verified that I had captured everything he said.
I texted Candi to let her know what just happened and to ask if she felt a need to leave campus for the rest of the day. She quickly responded, telling me she was okay and had her “protection” with her. I only had one class that afternoon, so I emailed the instructor to let him know what was going on.
“Go ahead, Tim, take care of business. You and your fiance’s safety is more important. I’ll send you the assignment after class,” he wrote. I thanked him and headed for the Office for Equal Opportunity, where I filed another report against Ryan. Technically, what Ryan had done, or threatened to do, could be seen by the school as sexual violence. I was also told that Candi and I should perhaps get an order of protection.
The lady who took my report informed me that Ryan currently lived on campus, so I got the address and went back to the duck pond to find out what I needed to do to get a protection order. I went to the website, downloaded the form and the instructions.
Seeing that it was after 2:00 pm, the clerk’s office at the county courthouse was already closed. Besides, I would need to print out multiple copies of the form and bring $132.00 in cash, money order, or cashier’s check. Haven’t they ever heard of debit cards, I wondered. But it was what it was, and there was nothing more I could do about it.
Seeing the time and knowing that Candi came in her car, I texted her to bring her up to speed. She acknowledged my text and said she would see me at home after her self-defense class.
“Are you going to be okay?” I asked.
“I’ll be just fine, cuz,” she wrote back. “Don’t worry. Go do what you gotta do. Love you!”
“Love you more,” I wrote back before heading out. I stopped at the bank and got a cashier’s check for $132.00, then headed home to fill out the form and print the copies I needed. It took much of the rest of the afternoon to work my way through the form. After I finished, I reviewed everything, then saved and printed it out.
I decided to call the police one more time to file another report against Ryan. I figured the more reports against him, the better. The officer who arrived and took my statement seemed to take the incident more seriously than the first.
She watched the video I took and made notes. I told her I was in the process of filing for an order of protection, which she said was a good idea. She gave me the report number before she left, telling me someone would visit with “Mr. West” and get his side of the story.
I knew Candi would be a bit late getting home, so I ordered a pizza when she texted me to let me know she was wrapping up her self-defense class and would be home in about a half hour. The pizza arrived the same time she got home, so we ate as I brought her up to speed on what happened. I showed her the video I took of my encounter with Ryan.
“Sounds like things are going to get a bit interesting,” she said.
“Yeah,” I told her. “Do me a favor and make sure you have your spray and stun gun handy all the time. And text me to let me know where you are.”
“I will,” she said. “And you do the same.” We were both nervous, but felt like we had done all we could under the circumstances. We watched a bit of television and talked before going to bed.
“Thank you,” she said softly after we made love that night.
“For what?” I asked.
“Protecting me,” she said. “For being my knight in shining armor.”
“Well, you’re my Buttercup and it’s my job to look out for you.”
“I love you so much,” she whispered.
“I love you more, cuz,” I said before we fell asleep in each other’s arms.
The next day, we went to class and since I had a break from 10:30 to 1:00 that afternoon, I headed out to the Bernalillo County Courthouse. I paid the $132.00 filing fee and the case was given a number and assigned to a civil judge.
Following the directions given by the clerk, I made my way to the office of the judge assigned to my case and spoke to the trial case administrative assistant. I asked if the judge could look it over then, or if I should leave it with her for later review. She looked at her calendar and said I should leave it, since the judge’s docket was quite full that day.
“It may be Monday morning before he has a chance to look this over, so I would suggest coming back that afternoon,” she said. I couldn’t believe what she was telling me. But, there was really nothing I could do about it, so I left the paperwork and thanked her for her time. Hopefully, we wouldn’t have to call the police again.
We were on pins and needles for the entire weekend, constantly on the alert for any sign of Ryan. We stayed at home that weekend, did our homework, studied and watched television, always on the alert for any sign that he would appear. We kept our tasers and pepper spray within arm’s reach at all times.
More than once, we heard noises outside we thought might be him, but turned out to be neighbors. Constantly being on the alert like that took its toll on us, and we were both a nervous wreck by the time Monday rolled around.
That Monday afternoon, I went to the courthouse and spoke to the judge’s trial case assistant, who told me the judge reviewed the case and set a hearing date for Friday. I couldn’t believe it. I knew from the instructions it was up to me to have Ryan served, and the assistant told me where I could go if I wanted the county sheriff’s office to handle it.
I followed her instructions and knew that Ryan would be served either that afternoon or Tuesday morning. When I got back to school, I saw an email that said Candi and I had each been summoned to the Dean of Students office later that afternoon. Wonderful, I thought. What now?
We got there right on time and were ushered into the dean’s office. He sat us down and looked at us before speaking.
“I’m truly very sorry this has happened to the two of you,” he said. “I know how nerve-wracking something like this can be. We’ve spoken to Mr. West and he assures us that this is all just a misunderstanding, and he promised not to bother you any more.”
“And that’s it?” I asked.
“Well, it just so happens that his father is a major contributor to the school’s foundation, so this is a bit of a touchy situation,” he said.
“So, because his father is rich and powerful, he can do whatever he wants and not even get a slap on the wrist?” I asked.
“As I said, this IS a touchy situation,” the dean said. “However, if Mr. West bothers you again, please contact my office.”