Rocky Mountain Justice (The Legend of Camel's Hump) (6 page)

Dawn left on her errand and the little house got quiet. Mrs. Parker pulled a chair over beside the bed and sat down, “Can you talk without it hurting?” “Sure - as long as I don’t get carried away with myself.” He tried to smile about that, but the smile died in its infancy.

“OK then, Jerry. Please tell me the whole story. I want to know everything that’s happened to you since you left our house yesterday afternoon to go to that boxing practice. Don’t leave out anything.” Jerry replied, “Gosh Mrs. Parker, was that just yesterday? It seems like a lifetime ago.” Then he told her the whole story, methodically recreating his actions over the past thirty hours, as she interrupted occasionally for clarification. Finally he finished and she leaned back thoughtfully, cupping her hands behind her head and, almost absently, looking at the ceiling, “We have a real problem here. The quietest little town in America, and we have a serious problem. I hope the people that live here can handle it.” This comment puzzled Jerry a bit, so he had no reply.

She looked at him then and realized that he was fading fast. She said, “Jerry, if you need us in the night, just call. We’ll be here and I’ll come and check on you once in a while. Now go to sleep. I have a feeling that we’ll all need our rest in the next few weeks. I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, she turned out the light and closed the door on her way out.

Jerry was asleep almost instantly, a deep, dreamless sleep. Dawn returned and the two women made their arrangements for the night. Mrs. Parker was still worried about Jerry, so they agreed to take turns sleeping. They set up a sleep schedule and found books to read. Soon the little cottage was quiet.

The next morning came and went. Still Jerry slept. Mrs. Parker cooked a huge breakfast of bacon and eggs, thinking that the smell of the food would certainly bring him out of the bedroom, but to no avail. The women kept checking on him, but all they saw was a soundly sleeping young man. Nothing indicated a problem, but still they worried. Finally, at about three in the afternoon, Dawn made a decision. “Mom, we can’t let this go on. If he isn’t waking up, we have to at least tell his father about it. But before that, I think we should try to wake him. If he wakes up, everything is good. But if not, - - - -.” Her mother quickly agreed with her. She had been having the same thoughts for a while already. “OK, I’ll do it - be right back.”

Hesitantly, Mrs. Parker went into the bedroom and sat beside the bed. Gently she reached over and shook Jerry’s shoulder. He woke instantly and tried to set up but fell back onto the pillow. “Wow, my head.” It came out softly in almost a moan. Mrs. Parker took control, “Lay back, Jerry. You took a good beating and you shouldn’t move very fast at all.” Slowly his eyes focused on her and he tried to smile. “Don’t think I could move fast if I wanted to!”

Dawn came in and hovered, obviously very worried. “How’re you feeling, Jerry?” “I dunno.” Again Mrs. Parker intervened. “Jerry, do you think you could eat something?” When Jerry answered in the affirmative, she left the room to fix another big breakfast. Dawn took her seat, worried about the weak responses that were coming from Jerry. “Jerry, do you think that we should go get your dad? He will be mad at us if we don’t tell him what is going on.” At that, Jerry found a reserve of strength and sat up. “No! Absolutely not! If anyone tells him now, he’ll go hunting Ike and the sheriff and things will get bad really fast! I’ll tell him when I can. That way I can try to calm him down. If anyone else tells him, he’ll go berserk!” With that, he sagged back onto the pillow, the last of his energy spent.

Dawn adjusted the pillows and watched as Jerry’s eyes drooped again. Softly she said, “Jerry, please stay awake long enough to eat something. Mom will have it ready in a minute and you need food to get your strength back. Please, Jerry?” With an effort, he sat a bit straighter and looked up at her. “Dawn, I know that we’re only kids, but I would be a happy man for the rest of my life if I knew that you would be right there beside the side of my bed forever”. That was the last straw for Dawn. She tried to hug him, but couldn’t figure out a way to do it without hurting him. So she took his hand in hers and kissed it. Her tears came in a flood. Through them, she looked at him. “Now I know you must be delirious! Just get your ass well for now. We have a long time to think about our lives after you’re well enough to make sense.” Then softly, “But I do know what you mean, you big lug.”

Mrs. Parker interrupted them, bringing in a tray covered with scrambled eggs and toast. Dawn moved aside so her mother could sit to feed Jerry. He ate slowly, his smashed mouth bleeding profusely. Dawn got a washcloth from the bathroom and began dabbing at his lips between bites. Finally the three-person effort was complete and the food was gone. Jerry lay back on the pillow and said a soft “Thank You” before drifting off to sleep again.

Dawn and her mother spent a second night watching over Jerry as he slept uninterrupted. But the next morning, the smell of breakfast cooking had the desired effect. He woke and ravenously devoured the meal, feeding himself this time. Then, slowly, he made his way to the bathroom and washed himself. Brushing his teeth caused some of the wounds to reopen, so Mrs. Parker renewed the bandages, soaking off the ones that were stuck to his skin. Some of the cuts seemed to be healing nicely. Others were not as pleasant to look at, so more iodine was in order. Jerry took the ministrations silently, only gasping slightly as the iodine hit the torn skin.

After a while, the first aid was done and Mrs. Parker insisted that Jerry go back to bed. She propped him up so he could talk, but she would not let him out of the bed. “Son, you’re as weak as a kitten. You can talk for a bit, but when you feel the need, you go back to sleep. Do you both hear me?”

Dawn sat down next to him. “Jerry, there’s more bad news. That fire that we heard the alarm for – that was out at the Moore’s place. Their home burned to the ground.” Jerry came straight up in the bed and, instantly regretting the action, settled back. “Those sons-of-bitches! They’re worse than we thought! How are Ray and Aunt Hilda?” “They got out all right. Mrs. Moore has a sprained ankle, but they’ll both be fine --- except they lost everything. The Koski’s went out and got them. Mom saw them for a minute when they got to town. She said that Hilda couldn’t stop crying, so they just took her to the Koski’s home and put her to bed. She and Ray are staying there for the time being.”

Jerry had turned white around his bandages. In a very serious tone, he said, “This is my fault. I should’ve refused to go to the sheriff. Aunt Hilda and Ray are good people; as nice as anyone that I know - - - and now they’re homeless because of me.” For the first time during this ordeal, he began openly sobbing, saying over and over, “It’s my fault. It’s my fault.” Dawn didn’t know what to say, so she pulled his head onto her shoulder and hugged him.

Mrs. Parker had no such problem. She knew exactly what needed to be said and she said it as she came back into the room. “Jerry, that kind of talk is just crap! Just plain crap! This is in no way your fault. That fire may be just a coincidence. And if it isn’t, it still isn’t your fault. It’s the fault of whoever started the fire, not you! Let’s start figuring out what we can do about it, not whose fault it is. Your Aunt is going to need help. We all need to be thinking about that right now.

With that, Mrs. Parker left to check on her home and Dawn took the seat beside the bed. They talked for a while, but Jerry was fading fast. When he nodded off for the third time, Dawn left the room, quietly closing the door behind her. She went on to the kitchen where she began cleaning up and washing the dishes. After a while, she snuck in to check on Jerry, but he was sleeping soundly.

CHAPTER SIX:

The Plan

 
J
erry slept until almost midnight. When he woke the house was dark and silent. He tried to go back to sleep, but it just didn’t work. He was awake now and his mind refused to turn off. Try as he might, he just couldn’t get the Moore’s plight out of his mind. He laid awake for what seemed like hours thinking about it. Finally he drifted into a fitful sleep, awakening occasionally as he bumped his injuries.

He came fully awake with the first light. He painfully climbed out of bed and dressed himself. Dawn and her mother were still asleep, so he was very careful to stay quiet as he moved about. He went into the little bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. It wasn’t a pretty sight. He cleaned himself up as best he could, carefully splashing some water in his eyes and rinsing his mouth. Then he retreated to his bedroom where he pulled out his school notebook and a pencil. Moving to the little shelf in the corner where he did his homework, he laid out the paper, pulled up a chair and started writing.

He was still there three hours later when Mrs. Parker noticed the light under his bedroom door. “Jerry, are you all right?” “Sure. Thanks.” She opened the door and came in. “What’re you doing, Boy? You need to stay in bed for a day or two. You have some bad injuries and they need time to heal.” He turned to look at her. “I’m sorry, Ma’am. But there’s just too much that needs to get done. I’ve been thinking all night about Aunt Hilda and Ray. I think we can help them, but I need your help.”

Her reply was equally firm. “Not yet. You need some breakfast and we need to look at your bandages. Then we can talk about the Moore’s problems. Now go get cleaned up. When you’re done in the bathroom, I’ll wake Dawn.”

Jerry hurried to comply. He had been waiting for some movement in the house so he could brush his teeth. His mouth hurt, but the taste of the blood and iodine mixed with two nights’ crustiness, made him look forward to whatever damage his old toothbrush inflicted. While he was busy, Mrs. Parker was working in the kitchen and soon the odors of coffee and frying bacon were drifting back to him. By the time he was done, Mrs. Parker already had a plate set out for him and he attacked it ravenously.

Dawn emerged from Dad’s bedroom, and came close to inspect his face. Her long hair was tossed and rumpled and signs of sleepiness were all over her face. Jerry’s heart skipped a beat as he looked at her. He thought she looked more beautiful that anybody he had ever seen at that moment. “How are you feeling?” she asked. Jerry’s mouth was full, but her mother answered for him, “He must be fine. From the looks of the paper crumpled up on the floor beside his desk, he’s been working for hours. Get cleaned up so we can all find out what he’s been doing.” Dawn gave Jerry a puzzled look and scampered off to do as she was told.

When Jerry finished breakfast, Mrs. Parker, who had been eating her breakfast standing beside the stove, came over and did a thorough inspection of his bandages, replacing a couple that had come loose overnight. In the meantime, Dawn returned and served herself breakfast. By the time she finished, Mrs. Parker had finally decided that Jerry’s bandages were satisfactory. Then she opened the conversation they had been waiting for. “OK, Jerry. What do you need my help with?”

“Can you call a town meeting this afternoon after working hours?” he asked. In Dublin, such meetings were often used to resolve local issues, set school hours, establish town budgets and the like. These meetings had been a big part of life during the war a few years ago. At that time, they had been held weekly so that the wives could exchange information with one another and provide help wherever a need was seen. Most of the Dublin men had been in the military and the meetings had been a lifeline for the women left behind. Now they were just held annually or whenever a citizen saw a need. The meetings were held in the school’s assembly room.

“Sure,” she replied, “anyone can call a town meeting. All we have to do is ring the school bell. But it would be smart to put a notice up in the post office and the grocery store first.” “I thought of that,” Jerry said as he rose to go back to his bedroom. “I got some flyers ready so we can stick them up around town this morning.” He showed them some flyers that he had made with lined tablet paper and crayons. In big red letters, they read,
TOWN MEETING 6 PM JUNE 12, 1949
. Then under the heading, in calmer green and blue letters, he had written,
OUR NEIGHBORS, THE MOORES, NEED HELP! Please join us to talk about it!
The letters weren’t exactly perfect and the colors were atrocious, but the message was there and Mrs. Parker was not about to quibble.

“Jerry, what do you think we can do?” she asked. At that, he brought out the rest of the papers he had been working on. She saw that they were lists. “I made a list of everything I could think of that’s needed to build a house. Then I spent time on every item and came up with lists of people that could help with each one of them. We can build the Moore’s a new place! It might not be a two-story farm house, but we can certainly build a house about the size of this place I’m living in. They have the land. We have logs all around us and we certainly have enough loggers and logging trucks. At least five people here own bulldozers and the heavy equipment we need. All of us High School kids are free for the summer and we can pound nails. We can do it!” With that he fell silent, looking appealingly at her across the table.

Mrs. Parker thought about this for a minute. “I see what you are thinking, Jerry. But I’m going to be the devil’s advocate here. Are you sure that Mrs. Moore needs the help? She did sell her ranch recently. She may not need us and she may be offended if we offer.” Jerry didn’t hesitate. “No, she needs us. She gets quarterly payments on the ranch and that covers their living expenses. But they don’t have any extra money at all. I overheard her explaining this to Ray one day when they were talking about saving to go visit relatives over in Idaho. They do need help.”

“OK, if that’s true, I guess I’m onboard. But why do you need me to call the meeting?” Jerry came back to her with, “Because you’re the adult. The townspeople aren’t going to listen to a couple of kids like Dawn and me. I’ve seen you work when you’re trying to get something going, like getting the new desks for the school last year. You’re good at it. Besides, there’ll have to be some money involved and you know how to handle that stuff.”