KRIS--THE PRISONER
                   A Segment From The Tales From the Front
                          by Dave Laird

Together they sleep side by side, and in between their sleeping  bodies, a
golded-haired child tosses fitfully in his sleep, his face a perfect
caricature of innocence, his sleep for a change, deep and undisturbed. His
tiny hands that scarcely hours earlier were busily crafting the unmitigated
frustration that only a young manchild of that indeterminate age can inflict
on an unwilling adult are now clasped, as if in somnolent prayer.

They are respectively, mother, daughter and grandson, and the ire  of the
fates which has brought the three of them to sleep together, the ill wind
which has blown their sleep, their dreams, into a collective experience,
waits outside, in the darkness.

For roaming the street past their abode is a man, the daughter's  former
husband, filled with fire and anger, who is looking, waiting for a chance to
wreck his vengeance upon his former wife. In the past, he unmercifully beat
her, threatening her with violence to bend her will to his own. He publicly
humiliated her, abused her good name in the community until, in an act of
futility, she left him and went to live with her mother.

Now in the darkness, he cruises slowly, thoughtfully up and down  the street
outside her mother's house, watching for a light, a bare flicker, in the
hopes that she will know he still waits and watches.

Here then, in her own words, is Kris's story:

"I truly loved him. That's why I married him. In the beginning I  would have
done anything for him. Even when he beat the crap out of me, I would have
willingly done anything to save our marriage."

"He wanted to break it off, but when I went along with him  against my
better judgement, then he began to beat me. No, I don't mean that."

Kris breaks down in tears momentarily, and after a few minutes,  wipes her
reddened eyes and continues.

"He only beat me once...with his fists, I mean. The rest of the  time it was
the same as if he was hitting me with his fists, but all he did was tear me
and everything I did down and try and drag it in the dirt."

"If I did something good for him...like the time I fixed up a  special pot
roast that I knew he liked. I spent hours and hours fixing up that dinner. I
even made a chocolate pie, his favorite, and had it sitting on the sideboard
to cool when he came home. What did it get me?"

"The entire meal, pie and all, ended up all over the kitchen  walls and
floor. The kids were screaming. They were absolutely terrorized. They had no
way of knowing what was wrong. He ran out the door and didn't come home
until late the next afternoon, dead drunk. Then it started all over again.
Him yelling at the top of his lungs, waving his fist in my face."

"The next weekend, he beat me up in the middle of the Deer Park  Shopping
Center in front of a bunch of my friends who had taken me shopping. As soon
as I got out of the hospital, I went and got a temporary restraining order,
and later, after he had made several threats against me, I got a one-year
restraining order."

"But he's still out there, every night, driving up and down the  street in
front of my mom's house. The cops say that they can't do anything about it
until he touches me. Since he's on state disability, he doesn't have to
work. I guess we're just prisoners in here until he finally gets tired of
this charade and goes away..."

Approximately two days after she made this statement, Kris's car  was
severely damaged in Clayton. The windshield and all four windows were
smashed in, the tires slit and several body panels dented in with what
appeared to be a baseball bat.

Yesterday, while visiting her mother at the bar where she works,  Kris was
once again accosted by her estranged husband, in direct violation of the
restraining order. When the police were summoned, they stated that they
could not arrest her former husband, despite the court order which she gave
them. They served the former husband with a ticket for violating the court
order and departed.

Kris still lives in the Deer Park area, stays at her mother's  house and
although she would like to get a job, is afraid. Every time she attempts to
leave the house, her husband drives behind her wherever she goes, waits for
her at each stop, only to return with her to her mother's house, where he
begins driving up and down the street sporadically once more.