8.14.19.SKULL.1

This is my memoir-in-progress about a man’s violent criminal attack on me on a sunny summer afternoon, the most terrible thing ever to have happened to me. Bast Books will publish the finished book; this is a work in progress. After I woke up from three hours of surgery, I received a blazing vision of this book. I wanted to write what I had to say in a month. I worked out an extensive outline with paper and pencil on a clipboard while recuperating in bed. I had my husband bring in and hook up my laptop so I could continue writing, also in bed. As soon as I was barely able, I got out of bed, sat down at my Internet computer, and did much research.
Now it is over a year later, and I’m still sorting out my thoughts, my research, my reactions. Other people’s reactions, too. There are many facts—controversial facts—that may figure into my story.
This will be difficult for me. But I’m working the writing out exclusively on Patreon, with introductory blogs on WordPress. When the memoir is finished and polished, I will give you, my Patrons on Tier Four, the ebook of the memoir (and all of the rest of posts on the Tiers, of course.) And then I’ll start something new.
And so….
Sticks and Stones Will Break My Bones
Copyright 2019 by Lisa Mason
After the Attacker shoved me into the street in front of two lanes of oncoming traffic, and I shuffled my feet to prevent myself from crashing into a car, and I fell on the concrete street curb on my hip. Heard my scream strangely echoing.
After all that, I calmly sat up, saw my cap and sunglasses from where they’d fallen in the gutter, and picked them up.
In retrospect, I’m amazed how calm and rational I was. In retrospect, too, when I looked at the videos that the police took with their body cameras and the still photos, I’m screaming in pain and clearly in shock.
It’s odd that I don’t remember that at all. Other than my strangely echoing scream, I remember being calm and rational. I don’t remember the pain.
Three bicyclists immediately surrounded me with their bikes, shielding me from the Attacker. (Later, I saw the bicyclists standing around the scene on the police videotapes, so I didn’t imagine that.) I looked to my left and saw the Attacker striding down the sidewalk along Lake Merritt Boulevard, still yelling. He rushed at another woman with long, dark hair. She’d been approaching me on the sidewalk, witnessed the Attack, and backed away from him in a hurry.
Then he advanced on a young white man with blond hair holding a skateboard to his chest. The white man brandished his skateboard defensively, and they exchanged yells. I couldn’t see much of the confrontation, because the Attacker had his back turned to me at that point, but the white man shouted, “Give me back my skateboard.” I saw the Attacker run down the switchback, holding the skateboard, toward the lake.
Two women rushed over to me with their cellphones. One called 911, summoning the police and an ambulance. The other called my husband, who was just getting home. He ran outside, intending to jog around the lake to the crime scene, which I described to him. Luckily a neighbor was just pulling out of her driveway and drove him in two minutes to where I lay in the street.
Meanwhile, a kindly man knelt behind me, offered me water, and advised me to lean against his chest. He said he lived at 1200 Lakeshore, and I told him it was beautiful building.
I tried to stand up again, could not. My legs were like water, and the right leg lay at that tell-tale odd angle.
We waited for what seemed like a long time—it was rush hour and the police and ambulances were busy with car accidents on the freeways, I suppose.
Finally, a police car pulled up, a tall handsome black-haired officer climbed out, and took my story as fast as I could tell it. He immediately got back in his car and sped away. We all looked at one another like, “What was that?” and in another minute, police cars were speeding around the lake with their sirens on.
Another police car stopped next to the scene of the Attack, another white police officer got out, and took my full story. He asked for my name, address, phone, and email, asked did I have an ID.
I carry a little card case stocked with Author’s business cards in my jogging bag (you never know when you may connect with a new reader!) and gave the police officer several cards so I wouldn’t have to repeat the information.
Much later, I found out that the police officer had been videotaping me. He took my business card, with a nice little photo of me and the legend “Author”, clipped the card to his clipboard on a report that said, “Victim # 1.”
Several police cars and an SUV pulled up. I saw a police officer interviewed the woman with long, dark hair. She was pointing toward the bushy hill where the Attacker had been standing.
At last an ambulance arrived. My husband got in the front with the driver. Two emergency medical technicians lifted me, screaming in pain (there’s a nice police photo op of that), onto a gurney and loaded me inside. They closed the rear doors.
An EMT, a tough older man, quizzed me about my prior health conditions (none), my allergies (none), my smoking and drug use (none). When I tried to prop my right leg up, he said, “Forget it.”
In the interval, the police had apprehended the man who Attacked me on the other side of the lake and asked if I wanted to identify him.
“He can’t see you,” the EMT assured me. (Did you know that ambulances have one-way mirrors on the rear windows? You can see out, but the Attacker can’t see IN.) A police officer brought the Attacker, handcuffed and struggling, to the ambulance doors.
“That’s him,” I said at once. I had no doubt whatsoever that was him. The EMT told me the man had also accosted a police officer in the course of the arrest (actually, the EMT told me the man had bitten the police officer). That information remained hearsay until later when I verified through the District Attorney the man had accosted several other victims, including a police officer.
To the Hospital
* * *
For the rest of Excerpt 2 from Sticks & Stones Will Break My Bones, join Tier Four of my Patreon page at https://www.patreon.com/bePatron?u=23011206. You’ll have access to all the posts on the previous Tiers.
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lisasmason@aol.com to help support me while I recover.
Visit me at www.lisamason.com for all my books, ebooks, stories, and screenplays, reviews, interviews, blogs, roundtables, adorable cat pictures, forthcoming works, fine art and bespoke jewelry by my husband Tom Robinson, worldwide links, and more!

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