What You See

by Ann Mullen

  Blood was running down my arm. I grabbed my shoulder and looked up at the two of them. I don’t know which one was more frightened—Billy, or the kid who had shot me. I was terrified.

  Billy came to my aid. He jerked off his shirt, balled it up and pressed it to my shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. It’s just a flesh wound.”

  “You’re lying!” I screamed. “That’s what they always say! I’m dying here, and you’re telling me it’s only a flesh wound! Are you crazy? You didn’t even look at it.” I was quickly becoming hysterical. I was in agony.

  “Yes, I did,” Billy said, trying to reassure me. “The wound isn’t bad, and you’re not going to die.”

  Once I finally calmed down enough to assess the situation, I realized the boy was gone.

  Billy glanced over into the woods and then said, “Oh, he’s gone. Don’t worry. He took off the minute you got hit.”

  I sat up. I’d never been shot and had no idea the pain could be so intense. “Billy, it hurts something awful. I feel sick. Am I going to die?”

  He laughed.

  “I can’t believe you’re laughing at me. Have you lost your mind?”

  “I’m sorry,” Billy said as he snickered. “Trust me. It might hurt for a while, but you’re going to be okay. It’s only a flesh wound. However, we do need to get you to a doctor.” He helped me up off the ground and we ambled our way back to my Jeep.

  “I can’t believe this,” I whined. “One minute I’ve finally gotten myself a decent boyfriend, which is something I’ve wanted for a long, long time, and then I go and get hooked up with you, and find myself almost getting killed. Tell me what’s wrong with me? Am I crazy? Maybe I need to see a shrink. Oh, that’s right, I’ve already been there.”

  “Calm down, Jesse. Everything’s going to be okay. You’re just a little upset.” He opened the car door and gently helped me inside. He walked around to the other side, opened the door and then slid into the driver’s seat.

  “Where’re the keys?”

  I fumbled through my jeans’ pocket with my good arm and came up with them. “Here,” I hissed as I threw the keys in his lap.

  “You don’t have to be mad at me. It was an accident.”

  I was steadily ranting at him as he drove out of the woods. “Aren’t we going to the police first?”

  “No, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

  “Are we going to the police after we leave the hospital?”

  “Why?”

  “To have that kid arrested. He shot me. He belongs in jail.”

  “We should think about this for a minute,” his said. “It might not be such a good idea.”

  I sat in silence, thinking about what he’d said, until we got close to Charlottesville.

  “We can’t do anything, can we? We were trespassing on private property, and the gun did go off accidentally. If I have the kid arrested for trying to kill me, his father would turn around and bring charges against us for trespassing. Our name would go on a police report. Am I right? It’s a Catch-22—a no-win situation.”

  “Exactly,” he responded.

  “What about my arm?” I asked. “Won’t the hospital have to report my gunshot wound to the police? I thought that was standard procedure, something they were required by law to do.”

  “They are...”

  “Oh, me, I’m going to jail. I can see it now.” I was on the verge of hysteria. The pain in my shoulder immediately intensified. “I’m going to spend the next five years of my life in some rat-hole prison with a stinky, fat woman named, Big Mama, just dying to be my next boyfriend... or worse... girlfriend.” I started crying. I hated for him to see me cry, but I was scared. The thought of what had just happened and the prospect of what was going to happen was too overwhelming.

  “Chill out,” he said. “I’m going to take care of everything.”

  “What about this pain in my shoulder?” I whimpered. “What are you going to do about that? Are you going to get rid of it for me?” Lowering my voice, I needled him. “Actually, it’s getting better, I think. It doesn’t hurt as much now... now that it’s going numb!”

  “Oh, you’ll survive.”

  It was almost five o’clock when Billy pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. The name on the small building was Community Veterinary Clinic.

  I came to life. “Whoa! Wait a minute! This isn’t a hospital for people. It’s a doggie hospital! Have you gone crazy?”

  “Trust me,” Billy said. “I want the best for you and the best is right here. Chief Blackhawk is the best medicine man there is on Earth... and he’s my father. He’ll help us take care of our little problem.” He pointed to my shoulder.

  “I don’t know, Billy,” I said, hesitating to get out of the car. “Don’t you think we should go to a real hospital? You know—a place where they have machines and gadgets that keep people from dying?”

  “I’m telling you, we have everything we need right here. Please stop worrying. I’ll take care of you.”

  “Yeah, right. It’s not you who has to have a bullet dug out of your shoulder by a doctor who probably just castrated a dog, or delivered a pony, or gutted a fish.”

  “First of all,” he said as he led me through the front door, “it’s not a bullet in your shoulder; it’s birdshot. You were lucky. I think you only got the edge of the blast. You didn’t get a direct hit.”

  “It’s birdshot?” I questioned, my anxiety easing up a little.

  A small woman dressed in a bright pink housedress greeted us. Her graying, black hair was pinned up in a bun on the back of her head. Her skin was pale, and from the shape of her face, I could tell she was Billy’s mother. He had her chin and nose.

  “Mom, this is Jesse Watson,” Billy said as he leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. “Jesse, this is my mom, Sarah Blackhawk—the wife of our great chief, and the mother of the Blackhawk tribe. She’s also the backbone of this clinic, among other things.” He smiled.

  “I see you’re hurt,” she said as she wrapped her arm around my waist and led me down a hallway.

  I was glad to leave the reception area. It smelled like pet supplies and wet dog hair. It’s a doggie doctor’s office, and once your dog was made all better, you could buy an array of supplies to keep him that way. What a racket, I thought to myself as Billy’s mom instructed me to get up on the table. I’m such a nerd. I’m always expecting the worst of people. I just can’t help myself.

  Billy wandered off as Sarah asked me to lie down on the table. She carefully removed Billy’s balled-up shirt from my shoulder.

  “This might hurt a little, but I have to see what your injury looks like. Just hold on for a minute. It’ll be over before you know it. Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell you.”

  “The truth usually works,” she replied as she took a pair of scissors and split the sleeve of my T-shirt. Dabbing at my shoulder with a clean, white cloth, she added, “It looks like birdshot to me. We’re going to have to x-ray this to make sure there aren’t any pellets lodged in the tissue.”

  “And what if there is?” I cried.

  “It won’t be a problem. We can handle it,” she promised.

  I did have a problem. Billy was nowhere in sight and I was lying on a doggie table, waiting to be cut up like a watermelon being split open with a machete. My arm was throbbing, and my mind was going off the deep end. I had to calm down. I tried to relax while Billy’s mother attended to my wounds.

  “Billy and I were trespassing on private land, spying on people, when the teenage son came from out of nowhere with a shotgun. Billy grabbed the gun and it went off. And as they say, the rest is history.”

  “Ah, I see,” she replied. I could tell she was getting the gist of the situation. “Please don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  I laid on the table, while she scurried around me, cleaning up my bloody wound. She lowered the overhead x-ray apparatus and moved it here and th
ere before she finished situating it over my upper body.

  “Most vets have only one large operating room just like ours,” she explained as she looked around. “We have everything we need right here. Whatever we have to do, we can do it in this room. You can relax. You won’t have to get off this table until we’re finished. I’m going to give you something for the pain. Are you allergic to any medication?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “I’m going to give you an antibiotic for infection and some Demerol to deaden the pain.” She produced a syringe and withdrew a clear liquid from a small vile. I hated needles and this one was the size of a spear. She rolled me over on my side and then injected the liquid into my butt.

  “Hey, I hardly felt a thing. You’re good.”

  “That was the Demerol. It was the easy one,” she said. “This next one is Penicillin and it’s going to sting a little. Powder burns have a tendency to get infected in an open wound, and we don’t want to take any chances.” She disposed of the first syringe and filled a new one.

  “Ouch,” I whined. I thought I was going to pass out.

  “Lie down and relax,” she said, her soothing voice almost putting me to sleep. She took several x-rays and then said, “It’ll take about ten minutes to develop these. I’ll be right back.”

  I was beginning to feel pretty good. I was in and out of a fog, until I finally dozed off. I knew what was going on, but I tried not to think about it. What on earth would I tell Mom? She would absolutely throw a fit. What about Cole? The thought of telling him made me shudder. No, I can’t tell them the truth. I’d have to lie about this one, and it would have to be a good one.

  Mom had told me more than one time that lies always catch up with you in the end. Too bad—I planned to take my chances.

  Billy entered the examination room followed by a man who had the same physical presence and facial features. His face was tanned and wrinkled, and he had the same long ponytail that I’d seen on the other Blackhawk men. However, his was totally gray. This man had to be Billy’s father. They looked so much alike.

  “How’s she doing?” Billy asked. “She isn’t going to die, is she?” He was trying to cheer me up by making jokes, but I didn’t think it was funny.

  “Oh, she’ll live, but she’s going to be in considerable pain for the next few days,” Sarah answered.

  I drifted off into never-never land again, listening to the three of them banter back and forth in their native languages. One day, I told myself, I’m going to take the time to learn that language even if it kills me. What a thought—me speaking Cherokee.

  “Jesse,” I heard someone say. “Wake up, dear. We’re finished.”

  “Wow, I was really out of it,” I said, forcing myself to sit up.

  “This is Billy’s dad, Chief Standing Deer, but everyone calls him the chief, or Sam. He dug two pellets out of your shoulder. You were very lucky. They weren’t deep.”

  “As I explained to my son, this is not a good situation,” the chief said as he helped me down from the table. “By law, gunshot wounds are supposed to be reported to the police. Fortunately, I’m retired.”

  Billy and Sarah laughed.

  “As I was saying, I’m retired. I don’t practice anymore, so I am not concerned with their law. I own this clinic and I see to its operation, well, actually Sarah keeps everything in order. The point is, my son-in-law, Dr. Adam Nesbitt, is the vet and his office is closed on Saturday. Your visit did not occur.” He pressed two bottles of pills into my hand. “Take these according to the directions on the label. One is for pain and the other one is for infection. If you see any signs of infection, get Billy to call me right away. You do know the signs of infection, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do,” I answered.

  “I think you’re finished,” he replied. He turned to Billy as we were walking out of the door. “Make sure she goes home and gets some rest. That shot of Demerol is going to make her groggy and incoherent for a few hours. Do not let her drive a car. Remember, what I told you, my son.”

  “Thanks for the help. I’m sorry we had to meet like this,” I said, walking out of the door on wobbly legs.

  Sarah guided me to the Jeep, while the chief and Billy continued a conversation that I couldn’t hear.

  “So... son,” I mocked as Billy backed out of the parking space. “What did your dad want you to remember? Did it have anything to do with me?”

  “You know it did,” he growled. “He chastised me for getting you into this mess. He raked me over the coals.”

  “I’m sorry he fussed you out, Billy. I don’t blame you anymore. Oh, I did at first, but now that I’ve had time to think about it, you did the same thing I would’ve done if I’d been more alert. Next time I will be.”

  “Next time?” he asked.

  “Yeah, you don’t think a little thing like getting shot is going to stop me, do you?” I laughed.

  “You’re a tough `ge ya,” he said.

  “That’s right. I am a tough woman, and don’t you ever forget it!”

  Chapter 19

  It was almost seven o’clock when we pulled into the driveway of my house. Billy and I had practiced the story we were going to tell Mom and Cole. He assured me that Sarah and the chief wouldn’t breathe a word about the shooting to anyone, and we didn’t have to worry about one of the Hudgins turning us in for trespassing. They wanted to forget the whole ordeal. Billy had talked to Larry Hudgins while I was being fixed up, and Larry agreed that it would be in everyone’s best interest to drop the entire matter. He hoped I was okay, and he was real sorry for the unfortunate accident. However, he wanted his shotgun back.

  “He’s such a loser!” I wailed. “I get shot and the only thing he’s concerned about is his shotgun!”

  “It’s evidence. Of course, he’s worried. Not to worry,” Billy said. “I told him the only way I would return the shotgun and forget about the attempted murder charge you could file, was if he agreed to let us come back and question Rose and Jay.”

  “Did he agree?”

  “Yes, he did. He didn’t have much choice.”

  “When do we go back?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon. They have church first thing in the morning.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “That’s what the man said.”

  The house was filled with the aroma of food cooking. Mom was in the kitchen with Cole, laughing and carrying on when Billy and I walked in.

  “Something smells good,” Billy remarked, walking toward the kitchen.

  I followed him as far as the kitchen table and then sat down. I was beginning to get dizzy and I didn’t want to fall out the minute I walked in.

  Mom instantly knew something was wrong. She hurried over to where I was sitting and cried, “What’s the matter, Jesse? What happened to your shoulder? There’s blood all over your shirt.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” I lied. “Just a little hunting accident, I guess you could call it.” I winked at Billy, making sure Mom saw me.

  Billy’s eyes grew to the size of quarters. I thought he was going to faint. This wasn’t what we had planned on telling her, but after seeing the look in Mom’s eyes, I knew she’d never believe the story about me falling on a pile of rocks, unless I embellished it a little. At the last minute, I made up a story I thought she would believe.

  “We had a lead we wanted to run down,” I said. “On the way home we passed a beautiful patch of trillium growing by a stream just this side of Afton Mountain. I conned Billy into stopping. He didn’t want to, but I told him it was for you. I know how you love wildflowers. Anyway—against his better judgment—Billy pulled over to the side of the road and we went hunting for that perfect clump of flowers. As I was digging, I saw something move in the grass. I freaked, lost my footing, and fell on a jagged rock. We spent the rest of the afternoon at the hospital.”

  “Did you have to get stitches?” Mom asked.

  “No, I didn’t get cut, just scratched up a litt
le,” I explained. “The hospital cleaned me up and sent me on my way.” I had a terrible pang of guilt, but if I’d told her the truth, she’d probably never let me out of the house with Billy again. Moms have a way of controlling you like that—no matter how old you are.

  Mom was so sympathetic. “Honey, why don’t you come on over here and lie down,” she said as she helped me out of the chair and led me to the sofa. “We’ll have dinner soon. Cole and I have been fixing deer meat. I haven’t had deer meat since I lived on the farm. I was just a kid then.”

  I glanced over at Cole and Billy. They were in their own little hushed conversation and from the looks of things, Cole was not a happy camper. Billy looked like a deer at night, caught in the headlights of a car.

  I didn’t want to deal with either one of them. Their constant bickering was beginning to make me crazy. Ignoring them, I did as Mom said. I stretched out on the sofa and fell asleep.

  Dinner was delicious and uneventful. Whatever Cole and Billy had been discussing earlier was now water under the bridge, or it appeared to be. Mom gave no indication that she didn’t believe what I’d told her about my accident. Athena sat by my feet. Everybody was happy.

  Later, when Cole and I were alone—Billy had gone home, and Mom had gone to bed—we sat in the swing on the porch and talked. With his arm around me, and my head resting on his chest, I told him I didn’t feel like going anywhere, I hoped he didn’t mind.

  “I understand,” he said. “You’ve had a pretty exciting day.” He smiled. “Billy and I talked about it.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah,” he whispered. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. You did the right thing. I don’t think your mom needed to hear all the gory details. She’s just beginning to come around, and I think this would’ve caused a setback if she knew the truth.”

  I trusted Cole, but at the same time I wondered if he really knew the truth, or if he was playing me. Was this the sneaky cop side of him that Billy had warned me about? I wanted to know.

  “What did Billy tell you?”