Edited B Barney R. Messed with after by me.

Author’s Notes: This is a return to my BTB persona. Also all medical references are fiction as is this story.

I hate the Zoom^® online meeting app. It and my wife destroyed my marriage and started some major trouble for others.

This corona virus Covid19 was a kick in the ass for my family. My wife is a NP and works in the isolation ward of our local hospital. That is where the sickest, most contagious, or most infection prone patients are treated. She is very dedicated, and when the mandatory quarantine was announced, she went to provide whatever assistance she could. She knew she could be there for an extended time.

She also knew that she was leaving her home and family and would not see us in person for an unknown amount of time.

I am Chuck Carter, 38, married and father of 3 kids. My wife Mary is 36, and we have been married for 14 years. Our 3 kids are Chuck Jr. (Junior) 12, Sara almost 10 (according to her; double digits age is so important), and Amy 7. There are normal in all ways. They fight amongst themselves, but don’t attack any of them from the outside. They form a triangle of Carter family defense. Junior does take his big brother duties very seriously.

When the quarantine was announced, the schools closed, and a lot of people were forced out of work. I was one of the lucky ones, my job was writing novels, and so for me it was business as usual. The kids were typical kids, glad that school was out, at least for the first two weeks.

My kids had a big advantage over most other children. We live in the country on 320 acres of meadows and woods. I have carved over 4-1/2 miles of riding and hiking trails through our property. We have horses and 50cc ATV’s that we allowed the kids to use on the trails. They have managed to entertain themselves quite well. They also have age appropriate chores so they were not lacking for things to do.

I met Mary when we were both in college. She was just starting her graduate school. I was a junior English major, and a nontraditional student. I had spent four years in the army as a corpsman, but I had no burning desire to continue in medicine. I had seen and experienced enough blood and gore. I was wounded three times and received a 60% disability and a slight limp from my VA supplied prosthetic foot being not quite the same length as the shin and foot that it replaced. I occasionally used a cane, but I had a special one made. It was a telescoping 36” steel cane that retracted into a 9” handle. I had a belt clip that I attached it to when I wasn’t using it.

I was walking across the quad when I saw a large bruiser type deliberately slam into this little woman and knock her down and then kick her books out of her hands and scattered them all over. The jerk walked off and never slowed down or turned his head back. I quickly went over along with a couple of others to assist her in picking up all of her books and papers.

She was quietly crying and holding her arm near the shoulder. We gathered all of the stuff, and I volunteered to help the young lady get on her way. She was hurting, and finally, after walking about thirty feet she collapsed.

I saw blood on the sleeve of her blouse, and grabbed my cell and called emergency services. When they gave me an ETA of 15 to 20 minutes, I went into medic mode. Mary (at that time I didn’t know her name) was going into shock, so I took my jacket off and covered her torso everywhere except where the blood seemed to be coming from.

I ripped off the sleeve of her blouse, and saw that the bastard who had hit her had a knife or razor blade and had slashed her arm. I tried to pressure bandage it. That didn’t work, so I took the torn sleeve and a stick I found in the grass nearby and made a makeshift tourniquet. That stopped the bleeding. I then rearranged the jacket to cover her as much as I could.

I was and am a big guy, 6’ 3” 230lbs, and wear a XXL jacket. The girl was maybe a size 4 or 6 lady so my jacket was almost a complete blanket. I kept an eye on my watch, and after 10 minutes I loosened the stick, and the cut started bleeding freely again. After a minute or so I retightened the tourniquet. About that time I heard the unmistakable sound of an ambulance gurney (those wheels make a distinctive sound) on cement coming near.

I explained what I had witnessed and what I had done to control the bleeding. The ambulance crew called for the police. I was asked to move away, so that the real medics (???) could take over. I asked if I could ride with her to the hospital. The lead medic asked my relationship to the patient. When I answered truthfully he said that I was not allowed because I was not a relative. So I asked if they would tell me what hospital they were transporting her to.

When he told me what hospital to go to meet the ambulance, I gathered all of our combined stuff and took off for my car. I actually was at the hospital before the ambulance. I explained to the security guard that a girl from the college was coming in. I added that I had all of her stuff, and I wanted to make sure she got it all returned to her. He let me in.

The ambulance and a couple of police cars came into the parking area. The young lady was conscious and when she saw me she called for me to come with her. I did. When she was placed in a treatment area, I backed out to give her some privacy.

When I was allowed back in she gave me back my ruined coat, and we introduced ourselves. She told me that the bastard that hurt her was a friend of her ex-boyfriend. He also was very well politically and university connected so even if he was charged, he would get off with little or no punishment.

I told her I would fix that, and if she chose to not name him to the police, I would go along. I felt that then he would relax his guard. She gave me his name, and I knew the SOB. He was a grade A asshole who felt he was privileged. I guess he thought he was untouchable. I would show him the error of that thought.

I told Mary that I needed to leave, and that I would be back to pick her up. I gave her my cell phone number. I told Mary that I would take her stuff with me and when I picked her up I would give it to her. She called me close and gave me a kiss on the cheek and said thank you.

As I was leaving I stopped and talked to the police that were out in the waiting area. As Mary was not going to name the guy, I told them what I saw and that I never saw the guy’s face, so I wouldn’t be able to help in identifying him.

I put the revenge on the back burner and when I picked Mary up, I found that she was living in the same apartment complex that I had an apartment in. She was very sore, and said she felt very dirty. She could not get the 30 some stitches in the cut wet, so I went to my place and got a box of garbage bags and a couple rolls of bandage tape and built her a cover that would protect her. She was going to take a shower. I promised that when she was finished and dressed I would wash the arm except at the injury site. Then I would replace the bandages.

Mary asked, “Why are you doing all of this for someone that you did not even know before today?”

“I was and am a person who is trained in emergency medical first aid. In Iraq, I was the only medical assistance available for most injuries. That’s how I knew to stop the bleeding in your arm and how I didn’t need the doctor’s instructions for the after treatment wound care.”

Then I added; “When you go to get the stitches out, I will go with you and I will continue to check on you until you will be tired of my face.”

She laughed, then said; “I am an RN, and working toward my practitioner degree. I really think you need another excuse to keep seeing me. That was the most original, and at the same time, lamest pickup line I have had used on me. It did work though.”

She laughed and then continued; “Would you accept a dinner invitation from me. Cooking is off the list of jobs I can do for at least 7 days. When the stitches are out I will cook you a thank you dinner.”

“That will work for me, Mary, I happen to be a decent cook myself, and live in the next building over. If you would let me, I will come over and cook for us until the stitches are out.”

She agreed. That started a two years of dating and engagement until I got my degree and got my first western novel published. I also had a teaching certificate as a fallback position. I was cocky enough to believe that I would be a successful author. I planned the teaching as a temporary job.

The revenge occurred about a week after Mary got the stitches out. The Brute received a broken arm from someone swinging a heavy steel rod. He was told that it was payback for hurting ladies. The ex boyfriend did not get off scot free either, word got around on the campus was he couldn’t even fight his own battles against a girl. Dates for him were few and unsuccessful.

Mary graduated and got a position at a local hospital as the assistant director of the isolation unit and was earning considerably more than I was as a new high school English teacher.

The wedding was grand, and most of the guests were fellow students. We honeymooned in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan at a rustic cabin on a lake. By rustic, I mean outhouse, wood stove, candles, or kerosene lamps rustic. It was a wonderful time.

About at the first semester break of my senior year, my agent called and told me he had received a contract offer for my book. I met with him and discussed the details, and accepted the contract with the proviso that all copyrights and all movie and theatrical rights were mine. The advance check wasn’t much, but it was the beginning of a three book deal and I had five years to finish them.

I had been writing since I was able to form coherent sentences and put them on paper. I had approximately 15 novel length stories that I thought were good enough to submit without embarrassment. My agent was speechless, and told me to keep writing, but to let him submit the three for this contract the first year.