door to see why, because maybe we would have heard you screaming.”
Melissa turned to look at them. Both ladies were crying. “They felt bad because they didn’t hear anything,” Melissa said later.
Then, as the conversation wound down, one of the ladies said something that shook Melissa to her core.
“That lady below you, she did hear you screaming.” But the woman, for whatever reason, did absolutely nothing to help—not even pick up the telephone and call the police anonymously.
What’s more, as Melissa was leaving that day after packing the last of her things, the security guard at the entrance gate stopped her.
“Hey,” the guard said, “did you know there was an attack a few weeks before yours?”
“No! I didn’t. But I’m leaving, so good-bye.”
CHAPTER 35
SAVING GRACE
Becky Buttram begged Melissa to demand all of her belongings back from the property room department of the MCSD. They were Melissa’s things. She deserved to have them.
Melissa refused. To this day the MCSD still has the hockey stick.
“Although the jackass used my favorite hockey stick,” Melissa explained, “because it was neon green (and a junior stick, so it was just my height!), it was brand-new, but not a game stick. That was also the idiot’s mistake. He actually used the lightest-weight stick in the whole apartment—my saving grace. It wasn’t one I had an emotional attachment to. In fact, I had only got it a few weeks before, at the end of the season, which really blew his whole explanation of the fact that I had invited him in and shown him my hockey sticks and that was how his prints happen to be on that particular one he used to beat me.”
Indeed, Melissa had not even owned the stick Saxton used to beat her when Saxton lived in the same building. Producing receipts, not to mention when and where she bought the stick, would have been one of those jaw-dropping trial moments if Saxton ever took the case to a jury. They would have been able to prove he was lying about being inside her apartment.
I still have my hockey stick collection. Sadly, when I look at the collection now, the first thing that pops into my head is that night—but then I go into the good hockey memories. I even wonder if I’ll ever be able to hang them on my wall again (I don’t anymore), like I used to have them displayed.... Hockey is still my comfort zone. I sure as hell wasn’t going to let that bastard take something I loved so much away from me.
CHAPTER 36
BACK TO THE BEGINNING
Back in May 1993, by sheer luck, fate played a hand in Melissa’s life. By then, Scott Saxton was well on his way to copping his plea and preparing to head off to years in prison. But for Melissa, she was looking to get back into the routine of her daily life as it was before the attack.
Every year on Carburetion Day, they have a concert downtown for the Indy 500. I was there with one of my hockey buddies, watching a band we happen to know. We were standing in this large crowd, when I hear a voice behind me. I turn around and it’s Marc Maron. I couldn’t believe it.
I then remembered that he was performing at the comedy club in town that week. So I told him who the band was. He didn’t know. I introduced myself and told him I was a fan of his work. He said I should come to the show.
Melissa went to the show. Afterward, she and Marc Maron went out for a bite to eat. Nothing too fancy—just the local Waffle House.
“I had to apologize before my food got there because I couldn’t eat very well,” Melissa said. “I had to explain, same as I do to people I meet now, that I cannot bite through food without a fork and knife, and that due to the nerve damage on the left side of my mouth/cheek, I cannot always feel if there is anything there, or if I have missed my mouth, especially when drinking. Trust me, drinking wine through a straw makes things very awkward.”
Marc Maron showed Melissa compassion. He was sincerely interested in what had
Melissa turned to look at them. Both ladies were crying. “They felt bad because they didn’t hear anything,” Melissa said later.
Then, as the conversation wound down, one of the ladies said something that shook Melissa to her core.
“That lady below you, she did hear you screaming.” But the woman, for whatever reason, did absolutely nothing to help—not even pick up the telephone and call the police anonymously.
What’s more, as Melissa was leaving that day after packing the last of her things, the security guard at the entrance gate stopped her.
“Hey,” the guard said, “did you know there was an attack a few weeks before yours?”
“No! I didn’t. But I’m leaving, so good-bye.”
CHAPTER 35
SAVING GRACE
Becky Buttram begged Melissa to demand all of her belongings back from the property room department of the MCSD. They were Melissa’s things. She deserved to have them.
Melissa refused. To this day the MCSD still has the hockey stick.
“Although the jackass used my favorite hockey stick,” Melissa explained, “because it was neon green (and a junior stick, so it was just my height!), it was brand-new, but not a game stick. That was also the idiot’s mistake. He actually used the lightest-weight stick in the whole apartment—my saving grace. It wasn’t one I had an emotional attachment to. In fact, I had only got it a few weeks before, at the end of the season, which really blew his whole explanation of the fact that I had invited him in and shown him my hockey sticks and that was how his prints happen to be on that particular one he used to beat me.”
Indeed, Melissa had not even owned the stick Saxton used to beat her when Saxton lived in the same building. Producing receipts, not to mention when and where she bought the stick, would have been one of those jaw-dropping trial moments if Saxton ever took the case to a jury. They would have been able to prove he was lying about being inside her apartment.
I still have my hockey stick collection. Sadly, when I look at the collection now, the first thing that pops into my head is that night—but then I go into the good hockey memories. I even wonder if I’ll ever be able to hang them on my wall again (I don’t anymore), like I used to have them displayed.... Hockey is still my comfort zone. I sure as hell wasn’t going to let that bastard take something I loved so much away from me.
CHAPTER 36
BACK TO THE BEGINNING
Back in May 1993, by sheer luck, fate played a hand in Melissa’s life. By then, Scott Saxton was well on his way to copping his plea and preparing to head off to years in prison. But for Melissa, she was looking to get back into the routine of her daily life as it was before the attack.
Every year on Carburetion Day, they have a concert downtown for the Indy 500. I was there with one of my hockey buddies, watching a band we happen to know. We were standing in this large crowd, when I hear a voice behind me. I turn around and it’s Marc Maron. I couldn’t believe it.
I then remembered that he was performing at the comedy club in town that week. So I told him who the band was. He didn’t know. I introduced myself and told him I was a fan of his work. He said I should come to the show.
Melissa went to the show. Afterward, she and Marc Maron went out for a bite to eat. Nothing too fancy—just the local Waffle House.
“I had to apologize before my food got there because I couldn’t eat very well,” Melissa said. “I had to explain, same as I do to people I meet now, that I cannot bite through food without a fork and knife, and that due to the nerve damage on the left side of my mouth/cheek, I cannot always feel if there is anything there, or if I have missed my mouth, especially when drinking. Trust me, drinking wine through a straw makes things very awkward.”
Marc Maron showed Melissa compassion. He was sincerely interested in what had
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