by DK Herman
Doc was older and took it much better when her mother died of hyperglycemia. Everybody knew, Bertha Shuman liked her sweets, despite being an insulin dependent diabetic. It caught up to her one day when she lapsed into a coma. Doc was worried when she hadn't heard from her in a few days. She came home from college, where she was premed, to find her mother dead on the kitchen floor.
I didn't see Doc's truck as we pulled up, but I got out and knocked anyhow. There was no answer. I turned to return to Chitty and ran into George, almost knocking him down. I steadied him with one hand.
"I think you're getting a flat, in your back tire." He told me. You should see if Doc's got a tire gauge in her garage. If I'm right, we should go back to my place. I have an air compressor."
"OK." I was a little annoyed. I wanted a soak in my tub and a nap this afternoon. "While I look, will you write Doc a note, inviting her to supper tonight? There's scrap paper and a pen in my purse."
I walked to the garage. It stood forty feet from the house. It was locked, and I could barely see anything inside. There were ancient, tattered curtains, hung over the dirty glass. Still, I thought I saw a truck inside. I put my nose closer to the glass, but it didn't help. All I could see was a dark blob. I couldn't even make out colors, so I returned to Chitty.
George had finished the note and was leaving it on Doc's storm door. He saw me climb behind the wheel and joined me.
"No luck?" He replaced my purse on console.
"It’s locked." I looked up at the still, dark house again; no lights, no noise, and nothing moved. "I guess, I'll just go back to your house."
At his house, George pumped up Chitty's tire for me. It didn't look that low but like they say, better safe because I wasn't in the mood to be sorry.
Gram was waiting on the porch swing when we got home. I gave her a hug and said George would tell her everything, and I headed for the kitchen. Liv was watching an old western on her little television and stirring a pot with a big wooden spoon.
"Any apple dumplings left?" I tried to smile, but my head hurt.
Liv nodded. "And there’s vanilla ice cream."
My eyes got big, and my mouth watered. "I'll nuke it a few seconds first."
Liv chuckled as she picked out the largest of the dumplings. When it was warmed in the microwave, she put a large scoop of ice cream on top. "Enjoy and eat it all."
"I will, but I was going to take it upstairs." I grabbed a spoon out of a drawer. "Tell Gram, I'm tired. I'm going to eat this and take a nap."
"Bring the bowl and spoon back down." She wagged a finger at me. "It'll draw bugs, if you leave it lay around up there."
Five minutes later, I was licking ice cream from my spoon. The dumpling was even better, lying in my colossal bathtub while it filled with hot water. I remembered to put in a splash of bubble bath, and the water smelled like Lilacs and was foaming nicely. The day was looking up.
When my dumpling was gone, and the water was cold, I thought about getting out of the tub. My fingers were nicely wrinkled, so I stood and grabbed a towel. After dressing in yoga pants and a tank top, I was ready for my nap. As I lay down on top of the covers, I heard the rain begin.
I woke up to the sound of snoring. Since I was awake, I knew it wasn't me. I looked around, knowing what I'd find. My fur buddies had arrived while I was sleeping. Both dogs were on my bed, lying on their backs next to me, snoring like refrigerator trucks. One or both, found my dumpling bowl on the nightstand. It had been licked clean, the spoon lay on the floor next to my sneakers.
I checked my phone, which was still on the nightstand. There’d been no calls while I was napping, but I was shocked to see that it was after four. Nothing like a three-hour nap. I called Doc. There was answer, and I didn't leave a message on her voicemail. She led a busy life, and I didn't want to be a pest.
I walked over to the patio doors and went out onto the balcony. It had rained hard for hours. Everything was still dripping but fresh and clean. The sun had come back out, and the air was heavy with humidity.
The dogs followed me onto the balcony, happy to see me awake. I petted them for a while. Soon, they decided to lay close to the rail. They were watching something below us and to the right. It was probably a squirrel or chipmunk. Curious to see what they were staring at so intensely, I sat up and cringed.
Gram and George had decided to go for a swim. They were in the pool and each other’s arms. Standing in three feet of water, they were involved in a passionate kiss and oblivious to the rest of the world. Feeling like a peeping perve, I decided to go back into my room. But my eyes caught something moving by the garden. Peter with an angry look on his face, plodded towards his cabin.
"What's his problem. Grams twenty years older than him." I mused out loud. Men are idiots. He never showed any romantic interest in her before she found someone.
After brushing my teeth and hair, I went into my sitting room. Grabbing a bottle of water out of my little fridge, I tried out the couch. I was bored, so I sent Gabi a text to see what she was doing. She called me back in less than a minute.
"What's up?" I answered my phone.
"We’re getting ready to go out to supper with Troy’s parents,” she said. "I can't talk long. Any big plans for tonight?"
"Supper with Gram and a night of television.”
"Exciting."
"Actually, I haven't watched TV in a long time. My camp site didn't have cable,” I joked.
"Well." She giggled. "I'll leave you to it. Troy's yelling for me. It sounds like he can’t find something.”
"OK. We still on for tomorrow?" I asked.
"You bet! I'll call Doc tomorrow, and see who wants to drive," she said. “We’ll pick you up.”
"Have fun tonight,” I said.
"You, too."
I hung up and was putting on my sneakers when the dogs, still on the balcony, started barking like crazy. They sounded like they meant it. I didn't think they had it in them to sound that fierce. The hair on my arms raised as I ran for the balcony to see what caused it.
As I got to my balcony doors, I heard George screaming for help. Then there was a big splash and the dogs went even more crazy. They were still barking, staring intensely toward the woods when I stepped outside. I heard George yelling again. He was standing in the pool alone, water streaming down his face, in waist high water, holding his right forearm. Gram was coming from the house as fast as she could. I saw her stumble, and I thought of the nightmare of a broken hip.
"I'm coming Gram!" I yelled. I was more worried about her than George.
I tore ass, getting down to the pool. Before I got there, Gram had George out of the pool and into a chair.
"What's wrong?" It better not be a freaking spider.
"Somebody tried to kill me!" George shouted.
"What!” Gram and I said at the same time.
"I fell asleep,” George said, trying to calm down.
"That's when, I went in to ask Liv if she needed help with supper." Gram was shaking.
I made Gram sit down and kneeled in front of them both. I looked at the forearm, George was holding. There was a long, deep scratch that curved down the underside of his arm. It oozed a little, but it wasn't really bleeding. It would need some first aid after he told the rest of his story. I patted his bony knee reassuringly, and nodded for him to continue telling us what had happened.
"Like I said, I fell asleep on that chair." He pointed at the lounge chair, now at the bottom of the pool. "The next thing I know, somebody's got a hand on my forehead. I opened my eyes and saw a knife. So, I put my arm up, like this." George demonstrated as he spoke. "Then I rolled and took myself, chair and all, into drink. I stood up quick, but there was water in my eyes and couldn't see. But I could hear somebody running away."
"Should we call the police?" Gram asked me nervously.
I thought for minute. Maybe George had a bad dream and fell into the pool, scratching himself in the process. He was upset about last night and about his rotten
son. I didn't see or hear anyone from my balcony, except George. But why did the dogs bark and stare, like they saw someone, toward the woods.
The look on George's face told me, he wanted me to say no. He was thinking about another incident going on record to make him look foolish. He shook his head, his eyes pleading with mine.
"No,” I said firmly. "You take George into the house and take care of that cut. I'll look around out here by the pool."
George nodded and smiled gratefully and let Gram take his hand. They walked away slowly, toward the house.
I got on my knees and pulled the dripping chair out of the pool. I didn't see any footprints that didn't belong, on the cement deck around the pool. No knives. Nothing.
"Damn it!" I mumbled. I needed to think. I sat down on the chair, Gram had just vacated. Would George's son attack him with a knife in our backyard? Was his son greedy enough to risk blowing up his father? He knew where the key to the back door was hidden, or did the muddy footprints belong to an intruder? Maybe George was getting senile, or maybe I was. Damn it. I let out a big sigh. I had to consider everything for Gram’s sake. But, I just couldn’t imagine, anyone wanting to kill George.
I went into the house, finding everyone in the dining room. Gram and George looked calmer. There was a big white bandage on George's arm. Gram had Rupert on her lap. He gave me a sneer but otherwise ignored me. Either he was getting used to me, or it was my bare feet that set him off.
Liv had prepared a delicious meatloaf with green beans, mashed potatoes, and gravy. I noticed George had recovered enough to eat heartily. I had more than enough, too. I would have to slow down on the food or start running again. When Liv offered the strawberry shortcake that waited on the sideboard, I groaned. I better lace up those running shoes.
After supper, I told Gram I wanted to talk to them. We went into the living room and got comfortable.
"George, you said that you saw a knife. What did the knife look like?" I asked.
"It was a buck knife, like for hunting,” he said without any hesitation. He guessed my next question. "My son and I went deer hunting a few times. He enjoys it a lot more than me, and he has several hunting knives."
"Do you remember anything about the hand that held the knife?"
“They had on black, leather gloves,” he said.
“What about the knife? Was there anything special about it, other than being a hunting knife.” This is central Pennsylvania, everybody had a hunting knife.
“It had a six-inch blade, it looked like somebody keeps it real sharp, and what I could see of the handle was black and silver." He scratched his head, trying to remember more. "It happened so fast. All I was thinking about was getting away from that blade."
"Could you tell where they trying to stab you?" I hoped my questions weren't upsetting Gram.
"I don't think it was stabbing that they had in mind,” George said. "Remember, I told you, they had a hand on my forehead."
I nodded, looking at a large red spot above his thick eyebrows
"He was holding my head still. I think he intended to cut my throat."
"No!" Gram and I were both horrified.
George held up a hand to stop us from speaking. He seemed to be collecting his thoughts. I had more questions, but I waited for him to speak.
"Hallie, I know what the kids called me in school."
"GI George." I admitted, a trifle embarrassed.
"I never minded that name,” George said. "It was true, I served my time in the army. I did two tours in Vietnam." He paused to kiss Grams hand. "I don’t like to talk about it, but trust me when I tell you, I know exactly what he was up to."
I fought back a shiver. His look was so clear, so serious that I believed him. "We need to make a list of possible suspects," I said.
" I don't think my son would go this far,” George said firmly.
"But he has one of those knives,” Gram said.
"Ryan hunts deer, every November,” George said.
"He has to be on the list then." I turned to Gram. "Have you noticed that Peter glares at George? He obviously doesn't like him. Do you know why?"
"He loved your pap, and he's a little protective of me." She twisted the wedding rings, she still wore on her left hand. "He doesn't know George very well, yet."
I let that go for the moment. "Is there anyone else you can think of? Somebody that has a grudge against you?"
George shook his head. "I try to be good to people."
I believed that. George was by nature, a kind man. I was stumped, and it would be getting dark soon. Keeping George safe overnight was first on my list. Gram had the same thought.
"Will he be safe in your RV again?" She asked.
"I'll be fine, Susie Q." He winked at her. "The door locks, right?" They both looked at me.
"Yes, and so does the garage doors." I had a plan. "The garage is big enough with Aunt Jeannie's car gone. I’ll back Chitty inside the garage and lock the garage doors, too. George, do you have a cell?"
"In my car,” He nodded.
"Stay here with Gram for a while. Do not go outside until I get back."
Outside, I backed chitty into the empty bay and hooked her up to the electricity. I retrieved George's phone and charger from his car. Then I plugged it into an outlet in Chitty's kitchenette, so it would be near the bed. Afterwards, I went up to my room and opened my lock box. I got out my Glock and put in a full clip. I slipped the gun into an inside trouser holster. It made a bulge, but since I might be up against a throat slashing maniac, I didn't care. After a few moments consideration, I opened the lock box again and took out a canister of pepper spray.
I went back downstairs. Finding the seniors locked in another passionate embrace, I backed out of the room. I went around the house, checking all the doors and windows before stopping in the kitchen for a cold drink. The kitchen was tidy, and Liv had gone to her room. Her TV and air conditioner were both blaring away. The kitchen was big and lonely without her in it. I stood in front of the open refrigerator, gazing with longing at two bottles of chardonnay on a bottom shelf. With a sigh, I grabbed the pitcher of iced tea.
I was finishing my tea when I heard Gram talking. Since she couldn't talk and make out at the same time, I followed the sound of her voice.
"Everything’s ready for you George." I told him.
"He'll be safe?" Gram asked, biting her lip.
"He could sleep in the house. I won’t tell anyone,” I suggested.
"No," they both said.
"Wow!" George exclaimed. "Hallie's packing."
"Good,” Gram said with a smile.
"What is it? “George asked, staring at the bulge in my yoga pants.
"A Glock nine." I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small canister. "This is for you, George. It's pepper spray."
George reached out his hand. "I've heard of this stuff."
"You have to be very careful,” I warned him before handing it over "Get it in your face, and you'll be sorry,” I said.
I showed him how it worked and looking pleased, he put it into his pocket.
"Your phone is in Chitty, it's charging but still usable. I'm going to walk you out, make sure Chitty and the garage are clear. Then you lock yourself inside Chitty, and I'll lock the garage deadbolt with the key. You can unlock it with your thumb from inside if there’s an emergency."
Gram got up off the couch and hugged me. "Thank you,” She whispered.
I got George locked inside the garage. The sun was down and I watched our security lights come on. I took a last look toward the garage and walked back into the house.
I locked the front door, and Gram and I walked to her room. I wanted to check them too, before she locked herself in for the night. She held Rupert until I gave her the all clear. Then she hugged me once more before I left for my own rooms.
Running into Princess and Buddy on the way to my room, I was as glad to see them, as they were me. Playfully, they rushed around me, all the way to my bedro
om. I kicked off my shoes before putting my phone and Glock within easy reach on the nightstand.
I sat cross legged on my bed and patted the coverlet beside me. "Come on up, you guys,” I coaxed. I could see myself as a dog owner, these two were fun to have around. "I can pet you easier up here and it’s comfy." I patted the mattress again.
Both dogs ignored me and continued to dance around. Crap, I’ll bet nobody put them out for a last pee.
"Do you guys, have to pee?” I asked, watching both dogs’ ears perk up. “Want to go outside?"
The jumping and dancing around that followed, assured me I had deduced the problem.
"OK. OK. Geez, you can open doors except to go outside and pee?" I complained.
Princess looked at me and shook her head vigorously until she sneezed.
"Yeah, stupid question. The outside doors have knobs, not handles that you two can push down. I get it.” I climbed from the bed, and not sure if Rupert could open doors, I put on a pair of sneakers. “Come on, guys, but let's make it quick.”
The dogs led the way downstairs to the patio door. Opening the door, the night air was inviting. I stepped outside, and the dogs rushed off to do their business. I looked up at the night sky. There was a half-moon shining through the soft, warm air. It still smelled fresh, like this afternoons rain. I took a deep breath before walking toward where I last saw the dogs.
"Come on guys. Are you done yet?" I clapped my hands. There was no answer, no dogs. "Where'd you go?" I walked through the backyard toward the woods. I got to within twenty feet of the fence, and I saw it. Somebody had left the gate to the woods path open.
"Crap! They got out. If anything happens to them, Gram will be so upset." I ran to the gate and stopped to listen. Maybe they didn’t get out and were hiding in the yard somewhere. “Damn it,” I grumbled, hearing playful barks from somewhere in the trees. It sounded like they had a good head start on me. I'd better go get them before they got lost, or out on the highway. I couldn't stand the thought of them getting hit by a car. Also, there were nasty people around that would shoot them. Even I had expected them to be aggressive when I first saw they were pit bulls. But I was wrong, they’re sweet, lovable animals. I made up my mind and plunged into the dark woods to find them.
