Bennet Wimmer watched in horror as Grace Tenderstitch came full speed up the pasture towards him. He was absolutely transfixed, couldn't have moved if he wanted to. His toes tried to curl in his walking shoes around the bottom rung of the gate. He was vaguely aware that he was holding his breath, and part of him thought the best thing to do was to turn around and high tail it. The chin of her face seemed to lead the way, but mostly his eyes were fixed upon her breasts which unbound in her undershirt, bounced like two partially inflated umbrellas upon her chest as she flew up the path.
Grace was in a rage, that was a certainty. All of the anger and despair of the past months gathered themselves with unbelievable force at this perceived intrusion, and Grace felt an energy that she had missed as the adrenaline surged through her brain. Gone were the arthritic movements. Grace was shot like an arrow from a bow of Outrage that hurled her without her good judgement at the Target of Bennet Wimmer. Murray hurried along at her side, saying quietly "Grace wait a minute...wait Grace...wait." He had seen Grace lose her temper before and usually the outcome was ...poor.
She bounced on, breasts bobbing, and slipped on a patch of mud, momentarily doing a wild kind of split. She caught herself and trying to recover some of her dignity, tugged her pajama bottom up, as they had slipped more than what she thought was prudent.
She had almost reached her destination when Bennet hopped backward from the gate, putting that firmly between them. He was not sure of her intentions. He had heard some stories about Grace when growing up, something about her hearing voices. He hadn't paid any attention, he was more interested in remembering the names and places of the trees, then participating in silly rumors about GIRLS. He found that he was smiling vaguely, sheepishly, and that his heart was beating fast in his own chest. (Run,he thought, RUN AWAY)
Grace stopped about six feet from the gate to her pasture. She glanced down and was aware that a few muffin crumbs clung precariously to her undershirt. She brushed then away, then self consciously crossed her arms over her breasts.
"What are you doing? Who are you and what do you mean spying on me like that? " Grace did not give him a chance to answer. "I know all about people like you. Voyeurs aren't you? Isn't that the name of people like you?" Her chest heaved. He started to speak but Grace cut him off. "If I ever see you train that ....monocular on me again I will Have you arrested. Do you understand me?" Grace spat this last part out like it was an unpleasant taste in her mouth. Her face was red. "The nerve of you...stalkers. I will set my dog on you if you dare come round here again." Murray looked at Grace doubtfully and hung his head.
Bennet Wimmer looked at Grace and could not help his smile. It was fixed to his face like he was born that way. He was mortified. Not knowing what else to do, he stuck out his hand and said "Hello, I think you are Grace...do you remember me? I am Bennet Wimmer, your neighbor."