Chapter 45

I actually fielded one more phone call from Alan that evening. Seems he was more than a small amount interested in Jason Ellerbee's personal traits, based on the requests of one of Cindy's new sisters, Susan.

Again I apologized for interrupting the conversation for a phone call.

Helen waved her hand. "Dan, don't give it a second thought. We understand..."

"Oh, thanks, Helen, but that wasn't a a 'how're you doing?' call. That was my old friend up in Tennessee asking about the technician I sent 'im. Seems like Alan thinks the guy is interested in Cindy's new sister, Susan."

"That's the blonde girl in your pictures, right?" Helen asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Cindy replied. "And I didn't know that HE'S interested in Susan. Susan is interested in HIM."

"Goodness," Helen said. "Susan's YOUR age?" she asked Cindy.

"Oh, no ma'am," Cindy chirped. "Susan's the oldest one of us. She's eighteen."

"And how old is this guy, Dan?" she asked.

"I think he's twenty-six or twenty-seven," I said.

"Dan, once she's past eighteen, she pretty much does what she wants. And the age difference..." she looked at me, then Cindy. "What WERE you thinking about the age difference., exactly?"

"She's got you there, son," Charlie laughed. "I can't defend you..."

"I can try, baby," Cindy said, patting my knee. "Susan's an only child. I know, ... was an only child, too, but Susan's mom and dad sort of sheltered her. Everybody's worried that Susan's a bit naïve."

"Oh, that paints a different picture then," Helen said. "So, is the guy a decent person?"

"I think so, from what I could tell. But I'd hate to set Susan up for hurt..." I said.

Cindy jumped in. "Tina and I have been talkin' to her. Tellin' 'er not to rush ... Honestly, she just wants to be happy..."

"Don't we all, baby," Helen said.

The four of us chatted for a bit longer before I excused myself. "I'm still a little tired. I hate to be a party pooper, but I need to shut down."

"I'll go with you, baby," Cindy said. "You're gonna need some help, I'm sure."

"Yes, I will," I said. "Charlie, Helen, you folks have my undying gratitude."

"Son, don't give it a second thought. This is what families do."

I hobbled back up the hall under Cindy's watchful eye.

The adjoining full bath was well stocked, including the medicines I was going to need for the next couple of weeks. Once inside the room, I got a decidedly hot kiss from my young wife.

"That's what I wanted to do all evening, Dan," she said softly. "Are you going to try a shower tonight? I think maybe tomorrow might be better."

"I need to wash, baby," I said. "I feel rank."

"Well, if you must..."

"Do we have enough stuff for a change of bandages?"

"Yes. The nurse sent me home with that bag of stuff."

"There's a lot of areas I can't reach with this arm, just yet," I said.

"I'll help you if you'll help me," she smiled. "First time we shower together for other than purely recreational reasons, huh?" she giggled.

"I won't be nearly as rambunctious this time, little redheaded girl," I said.

We helped each other get undressed. It was the first time I saw the extent of Cindy's wounds. When I peeled the bandage off her shoulder, the wound I saw was a furrow, surrounded by bruising. Her ribcage was barely a scratch, stitched closed. She WAS fortunate. I pondered what might have been with just a few inches to the right.

She'd already seen mine.

"Am I leaking?"

"No," she said. "The nurse said soapy water is your friend, though. And I'm betting it's gonna sting..."

"I'll try not to weep," I said.

"This REALLY is about us getting clean, baby. This time. We'll have a recreational shower soon enough."

We got through the shower. She didn't wince as much as I did. I felt rejuvenated from the hot water soaking the funk off my body. I even managed to shave myself with one hand. It hurt to raise my left arm high enough. I was going to have to work on that.

Cindy's left shoulder was painful enough that I had to give her a hand drying her hair. I noticed the dryer was hers from the trailer.

"Mister Charlie talked to the sheriff's office and they let Steve get stuff out for us. He says it's a mess. But we got clothes and personal stuff, and he emptied out the fridge so nothing is in it to spoil."

"Good," I said. "But all that blood..."

"We'll get started on that, baby. Mister Charlie talked to some people. They'll get started tomorrow. Mizz Helen said the insurance guy's supposed to be there in the morning."

I finished drying her hair and between the two of us, we got her brushed out, then I did a pretty good job of replacing her bandages with a hand and a half to work with. She seemed satisfied with the job she did on mine. We dressed in night clothes, Cindy's characteristic cotton nightshirt and panties, I in my t-shirt and uncharacteristically, in boxers, a concession to the bandage on my butt. Yeah, we usually slept without anything below the waist except when Cindy was on her period, but we decided that wearing pants was a concession to staying at Charlie and Helen's.

The bed was still rumpled from the afternoon when we'd napped in it. We turned the covers down and she smiled as she crawled into the middle.

"Ain't we a sight, baby" she smiled. "Two cripples..."

"Not THAT crippled, little one," I said. "You're still the cutest angel in the heavens..."

Giggle. "You can't sit, you can't lay flat, I can't lay on my back..."

"We did pretty good spooning this afternoon," I said.

"Yeah," she smiled. "We did."

We were able to replicate that position, and it felt good to hold my Cindy in my arms again. I was starting to doze off, the magical scent of my Cindy, her touch filling my senses, satisfying me, when she said softly, "I love you, Dan..."

"I love you, Cindy." The painkiller did its work and I went to sleep. I winced awake a couple of times during the night when I rolled over incorrectly. Still, that meant that every time I moved, I woke up, and every time I woke up, I reached over to confirm that my dream was real, that I still have my Cindy.

Morning came with a soft knock on the door.

"Kids, breakfast in about ten minutes, ' Helen said.

I didn't know how breakfast worked here in Charlie's house. I knew that dinners were generally the work of Eletha, but I doubted that she worked from breakfast to dark.

Cindy and I helped each other dress and then I followed her down towards the kitchen.

"Biscuits and bacon and eggs," Helen said, straightening up with a pan from the oven.

"Those ain't canned," I said. "Those are REAL!"

"You talk about getting life lessons from YOUR momma, Dan? My momma would roll over in her grave if she caught me feeding canned biscuits to my family!"

I winced as I sat in a chair at the breakfast table, but I was able to wiggle half off the chair so I could sit. Charlie noted my pain, as well as Cindy favoring her left shoulder somewhat.

"We can get you a pillow for that chair, son," he said.

"Oh, no, I'll be okay. I need to get used to it," I said. "But thank you."

"Just trying to help, son," Charlie said.

We had a good breakfast. I complimented Helen. So did Cindy.

"Your cooking's better than Dan's, and he's GOOD!" Cindy said.

We went to the park office with Helen, the better to get on with putting things back to normal. Our arrival there was something of an event. It didn't take long for word to get around that Cindy and I were back in the park, and you can imagine that in the two days since the incident, we were the topic of much discussion.

A steady stream of visitors dropped by the office to see us. Cindy was cooed over and hugged and my hand was shaken a dozen times and both of us recounted the story together four or five times.

At nine, a neatly marked SUV pulled up, the sign on the side identifying my insurer. He walked into the office. "I'm here to see Helen Peebles or Dan Richards," he said.

I stood. "I'm Dan Richards. The lady behind the counter is Mizz Helen Peebles, and this is my wife Cindy."

"Okay," he said, shaking my hand. "I'm Will Andrews. I'm here to look at your travel trailer."

"Let's go," I said. "I haven't been in it for a couple of days."

"Dan, I had all the valuable stuff that wasn't damaged put into storage for you," Helen said.

"Okay," Will said.

I stood, wincing just a bit.

"Oh, YOU'RE the guy..." he said, a realization coming upon him.

"Uh ... yeah. I'm the guy ... My trailer."

We took Helen's latest acquisition, an electric golf cart, to my trailer. Will followed in his SUV. Crime scene tape still wrapped the trailer.

"You can ignore that," Helen said. The sheriff said they're finished.

A temporary bar was across the blasted door, and there were four more shotgunned holes in the trailer besides the missing bit of the door. Will had his camera out, shooting pictures.

"Somebody was AFTER you," he said.

"Not me, Cindy," I said.

His eyebrow raised. "Her? Why would anybody wanna hurt HER?"

"Long story," Cindy said.

"I'd be interested in hearing, I guess, if you wanna tell it. Lemme get this finished first, though." He snapped a few more pictures from different angles.

"Oh, by the way, there are three holes in my truck, too. I don't know exactly where. The deputy said there were, though," I said. My truck hadn't moved since that night. "I'm thinking that if you draw a line from the trailer door though that bare spot you're standing in, all the way to my truck..."

He looked down where the gravel and grass had been scraped away, a patch he was standing in, and stepped sideways away from it. "You mean..."

"Yeah. That was the guy who shot those two left holes in the trailer," I said. "They cleaned the mess up."

He looked at me. "The news said there were TWO."

"The other one was inside the trailer."

"Oh. It's liable to be a mess."

I walked over to my truck, looking for the holes. I found them. "Through the side of the bed," I said. I looked into the bed. "And on the inside." I looked across the bed. "And they stopped at the liner on this side."

He took pictures of that while Helen's handyman, Steve, removed the bar screwed across the door. "As soon as the sheriff department said I could, I got in there and cleaned up as much as I could, Dan," he said.

I didn't know that. I was relieved. Still, I pushed the door open. I was thankful that this wasn't summer, because the stench would've been overwhelming. As it was, it stank of blood from three people. Will took more pictures.

The blasts from the shotguns had taken out the side of the shower, damaged paneling, cabinets, much of the tightly packed interior of the trailer. The blast that had gotten me had ripped up a chunk of the flooring. At the living room end of the trailer, there was spatter of brown and greenish grey stuff I identified. I didn't tell Will what it was. More pictures.

He looked at me. "I don't want to think of what those spatters are."

"You're probably guessing, though," I said. "I was on the floor. He was standing. Third shot."

"Ouch," he said.

"I honestly don't think he felt that one..."

He snapped photos of the bare mattress, the brown stain where Cindy'd fallen back against it.

We stepped back out of the trailer. I took a deep breath of fresh air. "What do you think?"

"I think I could be convinced to total it," he said.

"We don't wanna total it, Mister Will," Cindy said. "We wanna clean it up and fix it. That's MY home ... OUR home there, and I do NOT want to be run out of it by two drunk rednecks!" Her expression was one of determination.

"Well, Miss Cindy, Dan ... let's talk about the money, then."

We stood out there in the sunshine, a brisk north breeze blocked by the trailer, and like business used to be done, bickered back and forth. Finally he gave me a number that I liked, we shook hands, Cindy smiled.

"I'll have the check Fed-Exed to you in the morning," he said. "Now, Miss Cindy, are you up to telling me that story? I'm good for hot chocolate and donuts up the road..."

She smiled. "Make it coffee, and we'll be there with you."

Helen looked at us. "Y'all go have a break. Dan, I'm gonna call those people to come bring your trailer to that shop. They'll call you."

We joined Will at the café up the road. I drove. Yes, I could drive. Propped up at a little angle to favor the left ass cheek, and I was careful, but I drove.

Small-town cafes are information centers, and Cindy and I were regular customers anyway, so we were recognized when we walked in on a normal day. Today wasn't a normal day, even for a Saturday. More hand-shaking, hugs for Cindy, one for me, causing me to squinch my eyes when the waitress inadvertently pressed on my shoulder bandage.