Дэвид Балдаччи - One Summer

Jack was bent over, his breaths coming in gasps and blood pouring down his face from where he’d hit the post. As he straightened up and looked around, it seemed like the entire town of Channing was staring back at him. No one moved; no one seemed even to be breathing. As he glanced across the street, he saw Jenna and Liam staring at him from the door to the Little Bit. When he looked to his left, he saw Bonnie and Fred gawping at him in shock from the entrance to the gift shop. Bonnie looked at Jack, then to the unconscious men, and then back at her bleeding son-in-law.

“Daddy!”

Jack looked over his shoulder. Jackie was standing on the sidewalk bawling. Cory stood there looking in amazement at his dad, while Mikki glowered contemptuously at the two men lying on the pavement. “Idiots,” she said.

Jack quickly piled his kids into the VW and drove off.

Jack sat at the kitchen table with ice wrapped in a paper towel and held over his left cheek. Dried blood was stuck to his forehead from the impact with the street lamp. When someone knocked on the door, Jack half expected it to be the police.

“Old man and wady,” squealed Jackie after he managed to open the door.

Jenna and Charles strode in. She was carrying a small bag and sat down next to Jack. She started pulling things out: sterilized wipes, Band-Aids, an ice pack, and antibiotic cream.

“What are you two doing here?” asked Jack.

Jenna moved Jack’s hand away from his battered face and cleaned up the cuts, applied the ointment, and covered it all with a large Band-Aid.

Charles said, “We thought you might need a little assistance.”

“Those two idiots,” said Jenna. “Going off half-cocked like that. Probably drunk.”

“You know them?” asked Jack.

“They come into the bar every once in a while. But I can’t really say I know them.”

“They’re from Sweat Town,” added Charles.

Jenna frowned. “I despise that term.”

“Well, it’s not very nice, but I think the residents actually coined it,” said Charles.

“What exactly is Sweat Town?” asked Mikki.

“Other side of the tracks,” replied Charles. “Poor side of town. Every coastal area has them. Most of the people who do the actual work around here live there.”

Jenna said, “Here’s an ice pack. It’ll work faster on that swelling.”

“Thanks.”

She closed up her bag, sat back, and studied Jack’s face. “Okay, you should be good to go.”

“You’re pretty slick at that,” said Mikki.

“Just your mom-standard-procedure stuff.”

Jackie jumped up and down trying to get to her bag of medical supplies. Jenna finally placed a Band-Aid on his finger and kissed it. “Now your boo-boo is all gone too.” She straightened back up and gazed steadily at Jack. “Looks like you didn’t forget your army training. Those weren’t small guys, and you put ’em down pretty fast.”

Jack grimaced. “It was stupid. Never should’ve happened.”

The door opened, and Sammy walked in carrying his motorcycle helmet. “Had a nice little ride—” When he saw Jack, he exclaimed, “What the hell happened? You fall off a ladder?”

Jackie yelled, “Daddy pighting.” The little boy did a kick and then swung his fist so hard he fell over.

“Fighting? Who with?” demanded Sammy.

Mikki and Cory both started telling Sammy what had happened. The older man’s features turned dark as he listened to them. When they got to the slur that the one man had called Lizzie, Sammy went over to his toolbox and pulled out a crowbar. “You tell me what they look like and where I can find these maggots.”

“No, Sammy,” said Jack.

“I’m not letting them get away with this crap,” barked Sammy.

“I’ll handle it.”

“What, you think I’m too old to take care of myself?”

“That’s not the point. You beat them up, your butt will land right in jail.”

Charles said, “He’s right, Sammy. That’s not the way to go about it.”

“Uh-oh,” said Jackie. He was peering out the window into the front yard.

“What is it, Jackie?” asked his sister.

Jackie pointed to the door, his eyes so big they appeared to touch. “Cop dude,” he said in a very un-Jackie-like whisper. Then he sped into the next room to hide.

Jack looked sternly at his older kids. “Cop dude? Where did he learn that?”

Mikki looked uncomfortably at the floor. Cory studied the ceiling, his teeth clenched over his bottom lip.

“Great,” said Jack stiffly as he rose to answer the door.

The sheriff identified himself as Nathan Tammie. He was a big man with a bluff, serious face and dark curly hair. He took Jack’s statement and scratched his chin. “That pretty much matches up with what other people said happened. But you did go after them.”

“He was provoked. They were saying nasty things about our mom,” exclaimed Mikki. “What did you expect him to do?”

Jenna said, “Sheriff, Charles and I saw the whole thing. It’s exactly as Mikki said. He was provoked. Anybody would’ve done what Jack did.”

“I’m not saying I wouldn’t have done the same thing, Jenna, but I also can’t let things like this happen in town without consequences. I’ve already told those two boys to back off. And I expect you to hold on to your temper, Mr. Armstrong. If something happens again, you come tell me, and I’ll handle it. Do we understand each other? ’Cause if there’s a next time, people are gonna end up in jail.”

“I understand.”

After the sheriff left, Charles said, “He’s a good man, but he also means what he says.” He looked at Jenna. “I can drive you back to town.”

“Can you give me a minute, Charles?”

A sulking Sammy had gone into another room, and the kids had disappeared.

Jenna said to Jack, “Miracle Man?”

Jack stared at her, the ice pack held to his face. “It’s a long story.”

“I’m a good listener.”

“I appreciate that, Jenna. It’s just that...”

“I can tell you’re the sort of man who doesn’t open up easily. Keeps it all inside.”

“Maybe we can talk about it. Just not right now.”

“Well, you need anything else, just let me know.” She rose to go.

“Jenna?”

She turned back to see him watching her. “Yes?”

He touched the Band-Aid on his face. “Thanks for coming over. Means a lot.”

She smiled. “Only next time I hope I don’t have to bring my first-aid kit.”

The sound woke all of them. Lights burst on. Jack and Sammy made sure the kids were okay before checking the rest of the house.

“Sounded like a bomb going off,” said Sammy. “Or a building collapsed.”

Jack looked at him quizzically and then said, “Oh, damn!”

He ran toward the rear of the house.

“Jack! What is it?”

Sammy raced after him.

Jack sprinted across the backyard and over to the rocks. He ripped open the door of the lighthouse and stopped. The stairs had collapsed. He shone his light upward. Forty vertical feet of wood had tumbled down.

Sammy ran up next to him and saw what he was looking at. “Hell. Weren’t you just up there?”

Jack nodded, his gaze still on the fallen structure. Now he couldn’t get to the top.

“Close call, boy.”

Jack turned to him. “I need to rebuild the stairs.”

“What?”

“We can go get the materials tomorrow.”

“But we still have to finish some other jobs. And Charles has got some more referrals for us. Lady named Anne Bethune has a big house on the beach. She wants a screen porch enclosed and some other stuff done. Good money.”

“I’ll do this on my own time.”