Tyler was a tree trimmer. It had its advantages. He was an employee. Nobody notices an employee. Up in a tree, nobody really sees him. He was also well qualified for his job. He was athletic. He could run like a deer. He could jump over a car. He could bench press his weight. He could have accepted a number of college offers when he graduated, but something was bothering him. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do; hence the tree trimming thing.

He had first noticed her a year ago. He was up in a tree with his chain saw. She was in the yard; across the fence. She had three young kids playing in the yard. She was dressed in faded denim cutoffs; close fitting gray tee shirt and brown leather thong slippers. She was talking to a neighbor housewife while they kept an eye on their kids.

He kept that memory in the back of his mind. Meanwhile, at night, he prowled. Sometimes he drove the different neighborhoods; other times he walked or rode a bike. He kept mental notes of who lived where.

It probably started out as window peeking. He wanted to rape somebody. Most times something went wrong. One hot night, he snuck in through a window of a woman he had been watching. His knees shook so badly he could hardly support himself as he slinked across the floor to her bed. Getting ready to get up into the bed, he crawled across two very big men's shoes. It took him forever to crawl back across the floor and get out of the window.

On the way, he came across a purse. The street lights outside had enough light for him to see the money. He took it. Up to that point, that was the height of his transgressions.

A year had no passed. Surely nobody could put the incidents together; of what strangers had been near the woman's house. He had gone to her house repeatedly at night, though; checking and listening.

Her name was Gisele something. She had three children; one a very young girl of maybe 2 ½ years old; a couple of young boys in the range of 8 or so. Her husband was in the military, away for some time. She seemed to be German. An American soldier marries a german girl while he is stationed there? She is home all day; taking care of the kids.

Finally, he decides to do it. In the back of his mind, he wants to take a gun. If he is caught, he will kill himself. Somehow, owning a gun just never materializes. He wants to take a knife; to threaten her with. Somehow the knife never materializes.

It's hot; middle of summer. The moon is out. It makes it easier to see, but that in itself presents problems. They might see him too.

He circles the entire house, trying to analyze where he can get in. He studies the neighbors; who might be up and who might be able to see him. He finds the window airconditioner. It is about 2:00am. Everybody is asleep. Carefully, he is able to raise the window without making any noise. He gets the airconditioner pulled through the window and un-plugs it. He sets it on the ground. How long will it be until somebody realizes the airconditioner is not humming or the room is getting hot?

It seems to be a two bed room house. The three children are all sleeping in the living room. The children are all in underwear. Gisele is in a room by herself. She has the baby doll pajamas. Slowly he lowers her body down on her as he gets both arms wrapped around her mouth and neck so she cannot scream or fight.

At first she freezes. She doesn't know whether to scream or fight. " How many are there?" she wonders. She cannot analyze the situation she and her children are in that quick.

If the woman screams, he intends to run. She doesn't. To keep the children from hearing, he cups his hands around his lips and whispers into her ear: "You are going to have to cooperate. If you don't, my friend is outside. He would like very much to do something to your daughter. If you do what I say, I won't let him in." Gisele does not move. She does not do anything. She can't tell what is true yet.

Gisele starts moving her hands; tracing his hair; his nose; his lips and ears. "Are you good looking?" she whispers.

"Yes." He answers; thankful that the confrontation is not violent yet.

"Why are you doing this?" she asks softly. They keep using their hands and whispering into each other's ears; trying not to involve the children.