F Hemmingway - A family saga Volume Two

Don's left leg suddenly collapsed under him, and searing pain caused him to cry out. Then, he was on the ground. His pistol was jerked out of his waistband, and he was conscious that someone was examining his wound.

Merciful unconsciousness blotted out the rest… until he woke up again in the prison ward of County Hospital. When he finally became aware of his surroundings, where he was… and the circumstances of his being there, he turned his head into his pillow and wept — not because of the pain — but for sheer frustration and worry about what would happen to his sister, Charity.

Christ! I've really messed up everything!

A white, starched nurse, fat and grandmotherly, bustled in, saw that he was awake and said, cheerily, "Time for your shot! Turn over on your side… please!"

Obediently, Don turned, aware now of the pain in his leg. It hurt more than he was willing to admit. Efficiently, the nurse jabbed the needle into his alcohol-swabbed backside. "There… that'll be better, now!" she clucked.

Tossing and turning, Charity spent a fitfully sleepless night. She awakened several times to check on whether Don had come home, each time finding his room empty. In the early dawn, when he had still not returned, she could not go back to sleep at all.

She unlocked the bathroom door and peeped in on her mother's husband, Gabe. He was still fast asleep. Relocking the door, she drew her bath, having decided that she would leave early for school, well before her stepfather would be awake. She knew that she would be safe at school, since Don would not be with her. Worry concerning him furrowed her brow. She couldn't understand why be had not returned home.

Oh, God… I hope he hasn't had an a-accident with his motorcycle… or something…

What that vague something was, she had no idea… but there was in her a feeling that something quite horrible had happened to Donnie. A feeling of frustrated helplessness swept over her. It seemed that life was crowding her, bearing down hard… and she didn't know what to do. Everything seemed so complicated… so difficult to find solutions.

She finished bathing, combed her hair, dressed carefully and applied a small amount of makeup to her face to hide the dark circles and the tiredness; then, she went quietly into the kitchen to get a bite of breakfast.

There was not much left in the kitchen cupboards. No one had done any shopping for food since their mother had left; however, she was able to improvise a meal, after ransacking all the cupboards for what they would yield.

She left for school, much earlier than necessary, walking slow, deep in her worry about Don. It was her hope that she would see him during the day… or at least, have some word from him.

A thought that flashed through her mind and stuck there was that he had left, too. He had spoken often of it; perhaps he had done it… not wanting her as a burden on him.

N-No… please don't let it be like that! Donnie's really all I have… now!

Her school classes were flat, dull; they held no interest for her… and she had had to accept an unexcused absence permit in order to attend classes.

It was right after her third period class had begun that an office runner brought a message requesting that she report to the administration unit. Reluctantly, the math teacher allowed her to go, reminding her that she now had two assignments to get caught up on, by tomorrow.

Her heart went wild. It must be something to do with Donnie! She hurried across the campus to the main office, and arrived there, breathless from the exertion.

As she approached the desk, she saw that Gabe Scott stood talking to the vice-principal. His back was to her, and she was flooded with a strong desire to run… turn around and leave, right then… anything but face him!

Mr. Graves, the vice-principal, looked up and saw her, "Ah, here she is, Mr. Scott…"

They both faced her; there was nothing she could do but walk up to them, where they stood. She was apprehensive… real fear began to build in her. Both men looked so grim and unsmiling. She ignored Gabe and concentrated her attention on Mr. Graves. He gave her a quick, reassuring smile.

"Charity… your father has asked that you go with him to see your brother, Donald. He… ah… has had an accident… and is in the County Hospital…"

"OOooh, no!" she gasped, quick tears springing to her eyes. "What h-happened to h-him…?"

"Your father will explain… as you drive along… right, Mr. Scott?"

"What…? Oh! Yes… of course… I'll tell her all about it… at least, what I know… so far…" Gabe said.

"Well… Charity, you go along with your dad, now. You're officially excused for the rest of the day…" Mr. Graves said. "… And, I do hope your son is not too seriously injured…" His serious face reflected real concern.

The vice-principal might as well have been a judge passing sentence upon her. There was no way she could escape having to leave, now, with Gabriel Scott… but it was the only way she would learn about what happened to Don… the only way she could get to see him.

Dimly, she was aware that Gabe was answering, then taking her by the arm and leading her from the building across the parking lot, to his ancient, dilapidated car.

Then, as he steered into the stream of traffic away from the high school, she asked, "Wh-What happened to Don?"

Gabe turned bleary eyes to her, and she saw that he needed a shave, as he grunted, "Some trigger-happy bastard shot him, last night… and he's accused of an armed robbery!"

"N-No!" she choked. "No! That's i-impossible! D-Don wouldn't d-do something l-like that!"

"Maybe not… but that's what the sheriff's deputy told me! He's in the security ward at County General…"

"I–Is he h-hurt… bad…?"

"They took a.45 slug out of his leg… we'll know how bad it is when we see him."

She lapsed into silence, hiding her worry and grief from him with a hand to her face, only half listening to his tirade on the younger generation… its long hair, weird clothing, mobility, drugs and lack of morals. In a way, she was glad that his attention was not focused on her, for a change.

At the hospital, they were told, they could see Don for only a few minutes, one at a time. Gabe went in first. He was inside for a very few minutes. When he came out, Charity knew that he was seething with anger.

"I can't get anything out of him!" he growled. "Anyway, he says he wants to see you!"

Shyly, Charity went in to see him, not knowing what to say. He was sitting up in the hospital bed, a forced grin on his face.

"Hi, Char… like come on in… and see the prize exhibit!"

Gabe Scott, waiting outside, lit a cigarette and reflected — not on his wounded son and the charge of armed robbery that was being lodged against him, but on Charity — on the startling thing he had been told, just before picking her up at school.

He had parked his car, walked across the parking lot toward the school administrative offices, when a musical female voice called out his name: "Gabe… wait up a second…!"

Turning, he saw Marcy Lunceford. His first impulse was to continue walking, but she came up beside him, smiled and asked, "What brings you to school?"

"Damn it, Marcy… I told you never to…"

"Yeah… I know what you said… but I've got something to say… and I'm going to say it!" she said, defiantly.

"You got nothing to say to me… in public, Marcy!"

"Listen good, Dad, I've got a debt to pay back to that no-good son of yours!" She was venomous.

"Don…? He's in the…" he began.

"Yeah, Don!" she went on, not listening. "That bastard pulled one too many dumb stunts with me! Last night, he practically raped me… then, h-he said I wasn't w-worth the twenty he threw at m-me…!"