(no subject)

[seymoure]

28.
“This is Getting Serious”

There was quite a crowd assembled in the lobby of the hospital, certainly more than the designer ever had in mind. There were half a dozen Troopers, some newspaper people (both writers and camera people it seemed) and anybody who was well known in the area of the town. Freemont was there, as was the whole Barsimmon clan (there was a heated argument going on between the father and the newly returned son that had something to do with an absurd amount of his personal holdings had been spent keeping the summer camp open long past the point that it made any money), and the Church’s Ladies League had brought so many baked items that it was assured that Tooley would never buy food anytime within the foreseeable future.

Pappy was also happy to note the presence of Shelley from the diner.

Tooley had told Pappy that he had no idea who had shot him, only that he had been picking up trash down by the pond when it happened. Pappy had told Tooley not to tell anyone what he knew, so they could at least seem to have some kind of edge.

Porter Gates replaced the nurse behind the Deputy’s wheelchair and pushed him quickly past the reporters. As they waited for someone to open the lobby door the Trooper leaned down and said something to Tooley, who smiled and responded as they went through the door.

The reporters had been attempting to get any information they didn’t have, with no one succeeding. Still, they followed the wheelchair into the parking lot.

The flock of humans were moving slowly from the doors and towards the van brought by the State Troopers to act as an ambulance to take Tooley home.

Some one said, “Did you see who the murderer was?” and obviously meant it to be directed to the Deputy, but a crashing sound cut the conversation short.

Like an insane metallic bumblebee a rifle bullet entered the parking lot, followed by more of its kind.

One of those reporters was shot dead just as he walked around the door of the van to get a better advantage for his questions. What those questions were, none would ever know.

The second shot missed anyone at all, but shattered the glass lobby door.

The third shot hit Tooley in the foot, just above the pinkie toe.

Archie dove over the deputy and the last bullet hit him in the leg.

Even Pappy was surprised at the blue streak of obscenities that came from the mouth of the former FBI man.

Gates and the Troopers got Tooley and Archie into the van, and spread out.

The next few minutes were a blur in Pappy’s memory.

What he remembered most was the absolute silence of waiting for another shot.

He watched as the Troopers fanned out and moved up the hill, looking for the shooter.

He found himself stepping over the reporter to get to the van and find out if his friends were alright.

He figured Archie must be okay, since he hadn’t stopped cursing yet.

“Tooley, boy, you okay?” He said as calmly as he could.

“Damnest thing,” The smiling man said, “Shot all these times, and the one that hurts the most is the dumbest. Shot me in the dang foot Pappy!”

Pappy said, “Archie, we’re going to get you some help.”

Archie had entered into words that Pappy doubted even most sailors knew.

The old man crept around the van and peeked in to make sure the keys were in it. Seeing that they were he opened the door to get in, and that was when the last shot rang out.

Luckily, it missed him entirely and broke the window in the car next to the van.

Pappy hopped up into the seat and started the truck. He slipped it into reverse and pulled as close to the hospital doors as he thought he could.

Then a couple of men from the hospital came out and pulled the two injured men and took them inside.

Pappy watched as a brave reporter retrieved his dead colleague, carrying him into the lobby.

For the first time he looked at his own hand, the one on the door handle. It was shaking.

He thanked God that Bel wasn’t here.

He also prayed that she only hear about this from him, but doubted that one was going to come true.

 

© 2005 by C. Wayne Owens

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