Enforcing Home

by A. American

  “No, thank you though. I think we’re alright for now.”

  “I sure do like your squash though,” Sarge said. “Miss Kay fried some up in pig fat, and it was terrific.”

  “We’ve got plenty. Just come by when you need it,” Dylan offered.

  “We’ll take you up on it another time. We’ve got to get to town,” I said.

  A slight frown appeared on Gena’s face, “How are those poor people?”

  “We’re on our way to see. The Army is bringing in a field hospital tomorrow and medical personnel to help out for a while.”

  “That’s really nice. Everyone thinks it was the Army that did the shooting.” Dylan said. “We were up at the market yesterday, and they’re still talking about it.”

  “Makes me scared to go up there,” Gena added.

  “We’re trying to fix it so you don’t have to be,” Sarge replied.

  “That’d be great. It was nice to go up there and talk to someone other than Batman.”

  “Hey! I’m not good company?” Dylan asked with a smile.

  Gena patted his arm, “You know I love you. But it’s comforting to talk to a woman sometimes.”

  I laughed and made a mental note to bring Mel by. Maybe she and Bobbie could come pay a visit. We said our goodbyes and got back on the road. As we passed through Altoona, I saw that the market was up and running again. Though as we passed, everyone stopped and watched us. I hoped Doc didn’t have that SAW pointed in their direction. I saw one guy give us the finger; but thankfully no one did anything more offensive.

  The road was getting more and more cluttered. In places where trees were near the road, it was usually matted with fallen debris, limbs and leaves. The collected dirt and dust carried on the breeze and created small mounds. I knew over time these would grow and the road would begin to break down. Hopefully things would turn around before that happened. But it was an interesting study to see how nature reclaimed what we’d taken from her.

  Weeds, trees and vines were growing in cracks in the roads, parking lots and around the edges of buildings. Vines were climbing utility poles, signs and the sides of buildings as well. The vines broke through the paint, allowing water to get under it. The wood swelled, windows shifted, and more water got in, speeding up the process. If things didn’t change, the buildings would eventually collapse. It reminded me of a show I once saw on the History Channel, Life After People. But we were still here and it was happening.

  We were passing the old tavern in Umatilla when we saw the crowd. A large group of people was in the intersection of Central Ave and Bulldog Lane. As we got closer, it was obvious something was going on.

  “Keep a sharp eye out up there Ronnie,” Sarge said as he slowed.

  As people moved around, I was able to see through the crowd, and could see it was a fight. “Let’s stop,” I said.

  Sarge stopped the truck and I told Little Bit to stay inside. She protested, but I made it clear she was not to get out, and to stay with Doc.

  “I got her,” Doc said as I got out.

  Sarge and I walked up to the crowd. Seeing us coming, people moved out of the way and we were able to get to the front and see what was going on. Two men were fighting, and a couple of women were trying to stop them. When one of the women saw us, she ran up.

  “Do something! Stop them!” She shouted at me.

  Hearing the woman shout, the two men took notice of us and stopped. They looked around uncertainly. “What do you want me to do?” I asked the woman.

  “You’re the Sheriff, aren’t you? Stop them!”

  I looked at the two men. One of them wore a stained white t-shirt that was soaked from the rain. The other had no shirt. “What’s this about?”

  The shirtless man pointed to the other, “That son of a bitch can’t keep his mouth shut!”

  The other man scoffed, “Me? You’re just a lying bastard!”

  I looked at Sarge, he smiled and shrugged. Looking back at the two men, I pointed to the shirtless one and asked the guy in the white t-shirt, “You want to fight him?”

  “Damn right I do!” I then asked the other man the same question.

  He pointed at his adversary, “I’m gonna whoop his ass!”

  I held my hands up, “Don’t let me stop you.”

  The woman that approached me, spun around. “What do you mean? You’re the Sheriff; you can’t let them fight!”

  I laughed and looked around the crowd. “It ain’t no business of mine if these two want to beat the shit out of one another. They both want it. It’s obviously something that’s been brewing for a while. The old days of having someone else solve your problems are over.”

  “Then what good are you if you’re not going to help?” The woman shrieked.

  “Ma’am, if this were a one-sided ass whoopin’, I’d step in. If one was stealin’ from the other, I’d step in. If one of them had bushwhacked the other and killed him, I’d step in. But two grown men that want to go at one another? They can deal with that themselves.” Looking the crowd over again, I added, “The nanny state is over. You’re responsible for your own actions. You cuss a man, and you’re likely to get a boot in your ass. Likewise, if someone does something wrong to someone, against another person, they will pay the price. Don’t think for a minute we won’t get involved. But this, this ain’t nobody’s business but theirs.”

  The two men eyed one another while I spoke, but it seemed the break took the fight out of them. They exchanged more words, hollow threats. But their respective women were able to push them away and get them headed home. As the crowd began to disperse, Sarge grunted.

  “Damn, I was hoping to see a fight.”

  I shook my head, “You’re not helping.”

  We were walking back to the truck when a shot rang out. Sarge and I both instinctively ducked and turned to find the source of the shot. A thunderous boom quickly followed the first shot. It was over behind the old ice cream stand that sits across the road from the Kangaroo. The people that had been moving towards home were sprinting in the direction of the shots. Sarge let out a loud breath, “I guess they’re shooting at one another now.”

  We started walking in the direction of the shots, following those who were running. As we came up to the small ice cream stand, a man burst around the corner with a wild look on his face. He carried an old single shot shotgun; and upon seeing us, ran towards us.

  Pointing over his shoulder, he shouted. “They’re trying to kill me!”

  A number of people poured around the corner he’d just rounded. The man in the lead had fire in his eyes. The one with the shotgun skidded to a stop in front of us. Sarge reached out and snatched the smoke pole from his hands, and he didn’t resist. Instead, pointing at the crowd, he reaffirmed his fears.

  “Help me, they’re trying to kill me!”

  The man with the fire in his eyes was at a dead run for the other. Sarge stepped out and raised his carbine at the man, who skidded to a stop. Breathing hard, he wiped the rain from his face and raised an accusatory finger at the man in front of us.

  “That son of a bitch just shot my brother!”

  Yet another man came running up, cradling his bleeding left arm. He stopped short and looked at his brother, then at us.

  “That asshole just shot me!”

  The one in front of us looked at me, “He shot at me first! It was self-defense!”

  The bleeding man shouted, “You were stealing my chickens! You’re a damn thief, Nathan!”

  Nathan looked at me, “I gotta eat too! He’s got so many of ‘em. It ain’t gonna hurt him none!”

  “So you were stealing chickens from this man, and when he caught you, you shot him?” I asked.

  Unbelievably, he replied, “He shot at me first. I didn’t just shoot him.”
<
br />   “You steal from everyone around here!” Someone from the crowd shouted.

  Nathan became enraged. “I got as much right to eat as the rest of you do! You’re all a bunch of selfish assholes! You won’t share, there’s lots of people around here in need!”

  The crowd was becoming agitated. The bleeding man began shouting, “I’m going to kill your ass for this! If I ever see you again, you’re a dead man!”

  “I just want to make sure I understand this. Since you feel you have nothing and these other folks have something, you feel it’s alright for you to take it?”

  “I’ve got as much right as they do!”

  “To their property?” I asked.

  “Well, it’s not really their property. They’re just chickens.”

  “You stole canned goods from me!” Another person in the crowd shouted.

  The rain was still falling and everyone was getting soaked. Nathan looked like a drowned rat, pitiful really. But he was a thief, and he’d just shot a man. I turned to face the crowd, “Is this man a thief?”

  My question was met with a chorus of Hell yeah and Thief! Still looking at the crowd, I said, “I told you earlier what was and wasn’t my business. This is my business.” Turning to Nathan, I said, “You’re a thief, and you just shot a man while stealing from him. You’ve admitted it, there is no question about your guilt.”

  I quickly drew the Springfield from its holster. As fast as I was moving, Nathan saw it coming and his eyes went wide and he began to shout. He raised his hands to cover his head and the bullet I fired went through his hand and into his forehead. He collapsed like a marionette whose strings were cut. The crowd that moments ago was shouting for his head, was suddenly silent. I looked around at them, then at the body on the ground. Blood was still spilling out onto the wet pavement.

  “I told you I would get involved when it was required.” Pointing to the body, I added, “Let this be a lesson. Stealing, shooting and killing will not be tolerated. There is no jail, no probation, and no court. Court will be held in the street.”

  Maybe it was the rain. Maybe it was the death they’d just witnessed. But the crowd started to drift away. I stood with Sarge for a few minutes. He said nothing, just rocked back and forth on his heels. Looking over, I asked, “What?”

  Sarge shook his head, “Nothin’.”

  “Bullshit, spit it out? You think I shouldn’t have done it?”

  Sarge laughed. “Hell yes, you should have. I was just wondering what was taking so damn long. I thought for a minute you was going to talk him to death! Good thing you did it when you did, I was about to.”

  I shook my head, “You’re a whole lot of help.”

  Sarge smiled that toothy grin he used when he was laying the smartass on extra thick, “I’m here to help Sheriff.”

  “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  At the Hummer, Doc was still in the turret, looking down and shaking his head. Walking up, I asked, “What?”

  He shrugged in reply, “Nothin’.”

  Little Bit came boiling out of the truck, “What’s going on? I couldn’t see anything; Mr. Doc wouldn’t let me get out.”

  I looked up at Doc; he gave me a wink, and I looked back at Little Bit. “Nothing kiddo; just some men fighting.”

  We got back in the truck and headed towards Eustis. As we passed through the intersection, Little Bit saw the body lying in the road. As yet no one had bothered to move it. Looking out the window, she asked, “Did he lose the fight?”

  I reached back and grabbed her, pulling her towards me and away from the window. “Yeah, he lost. Come up here and sit with me.”

  As she climbed into my lap, she asked, “Is he going to wake up?”

  Sarge looked over, “He’s just taking a dirt nap, Princess.”

  She cocked her head, “What’s a dirt nap?”

  I rubbed her head, “Ole Sarge is just messin’ with you.” I gave him a look that screamed shut the hell up!

  We made it into Eustis with no further issues. With the rain set in like it was, it was keeping people indoors. The guys manning the roadblock waved us through without delay. We rode past the lake where Cecil had been hard at work planting crops along the narrow strip of usable ground between it and the road. The furrows were full of water now and there was no sign of anything poking above the soil. But it was an impressive amount of work he’d managed to get done.

  Out on the dock, a couple of hardy souls, probably more hungry than hardy, were fishing from the little gazebos. A hand-to-mouth existence meant a constant effort to provide food for oneself and family. They didn’t even bother looking up as we passed, and I felt for them. It made me thankful for what we had. What my family had.

  We parked outside the gate of the armory and walked in. Little Bit was excited to see all the trucks and soldiers, and they seemed equally happy to see her. Everyone she passed, stopped to say hi. Many of them knelt down to talk to her. Sheffield was leaning in the doorway of the building when we came up. He waved us inside and gave Little Bit a curious look as she went in before me. He stopped me and asked why I brought her along. Doc said he was going to wander around for a while.

  “Shoot, every kid likes to go for a ride,” I replied.

  “Yeah, but aren’t you worried about bringing her out? You never know what could happen.”

  I slapped his shoulder, “You worry too much. She’s fine. We’re fine.”

  He shook his head and followed me inside. We went to the small conference room and took a seat. Naturally, Little Bit was enamored with the swivel chairs, and spent her time spinning in circles. Livingston sat at the foot of the table with a smile on his face, shaking his head.

  “Fawcett says there’s going to be a break in the weather sometime tonight, and the rain will stop. It will still be overcast, but he says they can fly in it,” Sarge said.

  “Good. We’ve already lost one of the wounded. We need that field hospital,” Livingston replied.

  “We need a place they can get a Shit Hook into,” Sarge said.

  Livingston looked up at Sheffield, “I think we should have them set down on the road out in front of the police department.” Sheffield nodded, “I think a Chinook,” he emphasized the word looking at Sarge, “could land there. Nothing around to obstruct it.”

  Sarge stood up, “Well let’s walk over there and take a look to make sure there’s nothing to get in the way. Last thing I want is for them to show up and us not have a place for them to land.”

  “Let’s do it.” Livingston said as he got up.

  We walked over to the police department as it was just next door. Little Bit made a point to splash in every puddle she passed, and there were many. Standing in the parking lot of a defunct business just south of the PD, we looked down South Bay Street. There were no real obstructions, and it was decided the best place would be the intersection of West Stevens Ave. The wide intersection would provide plenty of room to get the large helicopter into.

  With that settled, we started back towards the armory. As we came into the parking lot of the PD, we were met by a group. There were men and women, and all of them were armed. I was taken aback at the sight of them. We were so close to the armory it didn’t make sense that they would try anything. They stood strung out in a line facing us without saying a word.

  Sarge, being the diplomat he is, spoke first. He took a step forward and eyed them up for a minute, then said, “I hope this ain’t gonna take long. I’m already soaked to my nuts.”

  A couple of the group exchanged glances. I don’t know what they were expecting, but whatever it was, this damn sure wasn’t it. After a brief silence, a short stocky man with blond hair and matching beard spoke up.

  “We’ve been watching you guys for some time. We were unsure what your intentions here w
ere.”

  Sarge looked back at us. Perplexed he asked, “And?”

  “We’re what’s left of the Eustis PD.”

  I looked at Sheffield. He appeared just as confused as I was. Stepping up to Sarge, I asked, “Where the hell have you guys been?”

  “We’ve been here. We stayed on the job for a long time. But when we realized this wasn’t a short term deal and things went to hell, we decided to take care of our own.”

  “Can’t say I blame you none for that,” Sarge replied.

  The man pointed at me, “You’re the Sheriff now?”

  “I’m a Sheriff. Name’s Morgan Carter.”

  “I’m Sean Meador. A Lieutenant with the Eustis PD.”

  “What do you guys want?” I asked.

  “We want to help.” He held his hand up to display a set of keys hanging from his finger. “I have the keys to the PD, and it’s full of stuff.”

  I certainly wasn’t expecting that.

  “This is Shane Shackleford and Steve Donnelly,” Sean said.

  I shook the other men’s hands. Sarge was eyeing them up and down, and in his typical fashion, had an interesting greeting.

  “Three S’s huh? Shit, shower an shave.”

  They didn’t know what to say, and looked at one another. “Ignore him I said. He’s not a people person. His name’s First Sergeant Mitchell.”

  Sarge stepped up and shook their hands. When shaking Sean’s, he asked, “What took so damn long?”

  “Like I said, we stayed as long as we could. But once we realized this wasn’t a short term deal, we had to go take care of our families. We’ve been here the whole time.”

  “And we’ve been dealing with some things too. Just doing it quietly,” Shane added.

  “I’m glad to have the help, thanks,” I said.

  “You should have come to us sooner,” Livingston said.

  “You wanna check out the PD?” Sean asked.