Rural Justice II
Copyright© 2025 by A Bad Attitude
Chapter 2
Let’s skip ahead 25 years. Those Lucky’s finally killed Dad five years ago. Mom is in a home for people with Alzheimer’s. Jenny married and moved to California with her husband. They have 2 kids. That’s all I am going to say about her husband or those entitled brats.
Brother married his high school sweetheart and bought a farm bordering our farm. They have a couple of kids, both boys. He seems to be raising them right. In my opinion, whatever that’s worth.
Me? After high school I joined the Navy, became a hospital corpsman, did a tour with the Marines walking around the DMZ in Nam, then came home, got married, then divorced two years later. I live and work the farm I grew up on.
One night the phone woke me up. When I looked at the clock it was 2am! This ain’t good news. It was Cindy, Brother’s wife. She was crying as she said, “Son, get over here quick! He won’t let me call the police or an ambulance!”
“Let me have the damn phone!”
That was my brother’s voice.
“Son, I’ve been shot but it is really nothing more than a graze. I am holding a towel on it and the bleeding has already stopped. I just need a few stitches.”
“What about the guy who shot you?”
“Don’t worry about him, he’s laying dead in the back yard.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
I hung up the phone, quickly dressed and grabbed my 1st aid kit. Fifteen minutes later I ran up onto Brother’s front porch. One of his sons opened the door.
“He’s in the bathroom waiting on you.”
I rushed into the house and found him sitting on the toilet holding a towel to his side. His wife backed out of the way as I examined his wound. “You’re lucky. A couple of inches in and the bullet would have hit your liver. That would have been a problem. As it is, I’ll dis-infect the wound, put in a few stitches, give you an anti-biotic shot and you’ll be good as new in a week or so.”
When I finished stitching up his wound, I gave him a shot of an anti-biotic that we used on the cattle. As I stood up, I said, “Now let’s take care of the guy who shot you.”