My husband finally beat his fear and went to the local criminals to buy a rifle. He gave almost half the money that we had saved for new car for that thing.
When he came home with the rifle, he was even more afraid.
He did not talk too much, but I understood that he was more afraid to use that rifle than to be without it.
He was a weak man. He could not help it.
Somewhere around that day when he bought the rifle, we sent our kids to my sister, some 200 km from our place.
It was the first and probably last time when my husband’s fear was used to make a good decision. I did not want to be separated from my kids, but he just kept on telling me, “Laura, you do not know what is happening, and what are people saying outside. The kids need to go away from here.”
