| General Fiction posted April 30, 2024 | Chapters: |
...16 17 -18- 19... 
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A twelve gauge can be a handy tool.
A chapter in the book Right in the Eye
Right in the Eye, ch. 18
by Wayne Fowler
In the last part Ben read more of Martha’s notes. God showed Ben that someone was trapped in a burning hotel. He saved her. Oroville Johnston met Ben.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Martha’s notes had a pretty accurate description, as far as Ben knew, of the Clabber Creek incident. Martha, of course, being Sylvia’s mother, Livvy’s daughter. Ben Paul and Sylvia were both anxious to hear whether Oroville knew anymore. After that, though, it was pretty much Ben telling Sylvia what Beth knew of Ben’s experiences: being shanghaied and in San Francisco. Being imprisoned in San Quentin, their through northern California and then on to Alaska.
Sylvia, and Oroville were amazed, but not surprised that God continued to work through Ben as he had.
Once Ben Paul was off the pain pills, his back having given him fits more relative to the activity of saving the girl than the cuts and stitches, they wanted to hear more about God showing him where the girl was, and who she was. Ben was only able to tell them what he knew, the where part.
“Okay, Oroville. Now that I’m clear-headed, let’s hear what you know about my dad.” Ben, Sylvia, and Oroville were sitting on her back deck sipping iced tea.
“He was not well, my Grandpa said. Healed of the gunshot to his chest, and his mind was fine, but his strength and stability … Sometimes he even needed help walking. He said they were scared to death that he would fall off his horse from Grand Junction up to Clabber Creek and the mine where Salinger and Ben died.
“That was the hardest day of his life, getting back to Creede and reporting that Ben had died, Grandpa said. And he thought getting him from Ophir to Silverton was gonna be hard. Then the Utes took him.”
Oroville dabbed at his eyes. “Hah! And I never even met the man, your dad.”
The next day, meant to be a parting gesture, Ben Paul offered to bake a pie of whatever fruit was in season. It so happened that Palisade peaches were ripe. “For my fiftieth birthday, my mother, Beth, told me that she’d given up on having a daughter-in-law to teach, so I was it. She made the best crusts anywhere.”
Ben and Sylvia made two pies. She knew that he would announce his departure the next morning since his stitches were removed that day. She was expecting it. And when it came, she was ready.
“Syvia…”
“I’m coming with you.”
“But you don’t…”
“You’re going to Cerrillos. And you have no idea how to get there. I’m driving. We’re going. Now, would you like for us to leave tomorrow, or after we finish one of your pies and freeze the other?”
Ben’s expression was one of perplexity.
“Look, Ben. We get along great. We share the same daily schedule. We both want to know a little more about our ancestors. And particularly how God worked in one Ben Persons … without the Paul. And most importantly, in my car we can stop and limber up any time you want. And by-the-way, Cerrillos is only a four-hour drive; but you would have to take a bus and then rent a car – two days. And then deal with the car getting yourself back home. Whereas, I could drive you anywhere you would like.”
Ben thought a moment. “Sylvia, you would put Greyhound out of business with a sales pitch like that.”
That was when the two exchanged their first kiss, the tiniest peck, barely catching the edges of their lips. Though totally without romance, it made going to bed that night a little bit more awkward.
+++
“BEN PERSONS! ARE YOU IN THERE?”
It was just short of midnight. Both Ben and Sylvia awakened instantly. Both took a moment to orient themselves. Both of them were up in time to hear the demand repeated.
“BEN PERSONS! ARE YOU IN THERE?”
The front door was spotlighted with Jeep headlights and rollbar lights.
“You recognize the voice?” Ben asked to Sylvia’s shaking her head.
There was no way that they could see anything out the front door, or through a front window.
“Let’s try the back.”
Sylvia had beaten Ben to the idea, already looking through the back door window. The motion instantly alerted two pit bulls – tied, but able to reach anyone exiting that door.
“Are the windows all crank?” Ben asked, knowing that some of them were and that crank-out windows would be too challenging for him to escape from.
Sylvia nodded.
“Will the law respond?” Ben asked.
“I can try, but a dollar to a donut he’s out of town responding to a traffic accident staged by whoever’s out front.”
“BETTER COME OUT. PERSONS. WOULDN’T WANT THE OLD LADY TO GET HURT.”
“Now he’s gone and made me mad,” Sylvia said.
“Make the phone call.” Ben looked at her, pointing to the kitchen with his head where her phone was hung on the wall. As soon as he heard the receiver being lifted from the hook, Ben reached for the front door handle, quickly opening it to step out and close it behind him. He was blinded by the lights.
“She was mine, Persons. I rented her out. People came from Durango, Pueblo, all over to get that. You owe me a million dollars. And if she comes out of whatever it is has her under at the hospital… Before I go down, you go in the ground.”
Ben figured that the man was outside the Jeep on the driver’s side.
All of a sudden there were four deafening roars as if a shotgun went off in his ears. All four lights exploded. Ben figured that Sylvia had a semi-automatic 12 gauge.
But Ben didn’t remain in the doorway to watch Sylvia shoot out the lights. By the time the third one exploded, he was close enough to the Jeep to catch some of the shards of glass. When the last light burst, Ben was on top of the ruffian who was ducking beside the wheel well.
“Mister, I expect the old lady is headed to the back to neutralize those two dogs. If you get in this Jeep and drive away now, I’ll go try to keep her from blowing their heads off.” Ben waved for him to leave.
“I, I’m leavin’. I’ll just git my…”
“No, you won’t just anything. I expect to hear two shots any second, now go!”
He did. Hopped into his Jeep and drove away in the moonlight.
Sylvia was in the doorway, tracking the Jeep with the shotgun.
“How’s your shoulder?” Ben asked.
“Bad enough to cry, but that’ll wait until he’s gone.”
Ben took the shotgun from her and leaned it on the wall before taking her into his arms for their first embrace. He had a pretty good idea as to how she felt about the shooting, remembering St. Louis and Al Fresco when he was a youth.
In the last part Ben read more of Martha’s notes. God showed Ben that someone was trapped in a burning hotel. He saved her. Oroville Johnston met Ben.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Martha’s notes had a pretty accurate description, as far as Ben knew, of the Clabber Creek incident. Martha, of course, being Sylvia’s mother, Livvy’s daughter. Ben Paul and Sylvia were both anxious to hear whether Oroville knew anymore. After that, though, it was pretty much Ben telling Sylvia what Beth knew of Ben’s experiences: being shanghaied and in San Francisco. Being imprisoned in San Quentin, their through northern California and then on to Alaska.
Sylvia, and Oroville were amazed, but not surprised that God continued to work through Ben as he had.
Once Ben Paul was off the pain pills, his back having given him fits more relative to the activity of saving the girl than the cuts and stitches, they wanted to hear more about God showing him where the girl was, and who she was. Ben was only able to tell them what he knew, the where part.
“Okay, Oroville. Now that I’m clear-headed, let’s hear what you know about my dad.” Ben, Sylvia, and Oroville were sitting on her back deck sipping iced tea.
“He was not well, my Grandpa said. Healed of the gunshot to his chest, and his mind was fine, but his strength and stability … Sometimes he even needed help walking. He said they were scared to death that he would fall off his horse from Grand Junction up to Clabber Creek and the mine where Salinger and Ben died.
“That was the hardest day of his life, getting back to Creede and reporting that Ben had died, Grandpa said. And he thought getting him from Ophir to Silverton was gonna be hard. Then the Utes took him.”
Oroville dabbed at his eyes. “Hah! And I never even met the man, your dad.”
The next day, meant to be a parting gesture, Ben Paul offered to bake a pie of whatever fruit was in season. It so happened that Palisade peaches were ripe. “For my fiftieth birthday, my mother, Beth, told me that she’d given up on having a daughter-in-law to teach, so I was it. She made the best crusts anywhere.”
Ben and Sylvia made two pies. She knew that he would announce his departure the next morning since his stitches were removed that day. She was expecting it. And when it came, she was ready.
“Syvia…”
“I’m coming with you.”
“But you don’t…”
“You’re going to Cerrillos. And you have no idea how to get there. I’m driving. We’re going. Now, would you like for us to leave tomorrow, or after we finish one of your pies and freeze the other?”
Ben’s expression was one of perplexity.
“Look, Ben. We get along great. We share the same daily schedule. We both want to know a little more about our ancestors. And particularly how God worked in one Ben Persons … without the Paul. And most importantly, in my car we can stop and limber up any time you want. And by-the-way, Cerrillos is only a four-hour drive; but you would have to take a bus and then rent a car – two days. And then deal with the car getting yourself back home. Whereas, I could drive you anywhere you would like.”
Ben thought a moment. “Sylvia, you would put Greyhound out of business with a sales pitch like that.”
That was when the two exchanged their first kiss, the tiniest peck, barely catching the edges of their lips. Though totally without romance, it made going to bed that night a little bit more awkward.
+++
“BEN PERSONS! ARE YOU IN THERE?”
It was just short of midnight. Both Ben and Sylvia awakened instantly. Both took a moment to orient themselves. Both of them were up in time to hear the demand repeated.
“BEN PERSONS! ARE YOU IN THERE?”
The front door was spotlighted with Jeep headlights and rollbar lights.
“You recognize the voice?” Ben asked to Sylvia’s shaking her head.
There was no way that they could see anything out the front door, or through a front window.
“Let’s try the back.”
Sylvia had beaten Ben to the idea, already looking through the back door window. The motion instantly alerted two pit bulls – tied, but able to reach anyone exiting that door.
“Are the windows all crank?” Ben asked, knowing that some of them were and that crank-out windows would be too challenging for him to escape from.
Sylvia nodded.
“Will the law respond?” Ben asked.
“I can try, but a dollar to a donut he’s out of town responding to a traffic accident staged by whoever’s out front.”
“BETTER COME OUT. PERSONS. WOULDN’T WANT THE OLD LADY TO GET HURT.”
“Now he’s gone and made me mad,” Sylvia said.
“Make the phone call.” Ben looked at her, pointing to the kitchen with his head where her phone was hung on the wall. As soon as he heard the receiver being lifted from the hook, Ben reached for the front door handle, quickly opening it to step out and close it behind him. He was blinded by the lights.
“She was mine, Persons. I rented her out. People came from Durango, Pueblo, all over to get that. You owe me a million dollars. And if she comes out of whatever it is has her under at the hospital… Before I go down, you go in the ground.”
Ben figured that the man was outside the Jeep on the driver’s side.
All of a sudden there were four deafening roars as if a shotgun went off in his ears. All four lights exploded. Ben figured that Sylvia had a semi-automatic 12 gauge.
But Ben didn’t remain in the doorway to watch Sylvia shoot out the lights. By the time the third one exploded, he was close enough to the Jeep to catch some of the shards of glass. When the last light burst, Ben was on top of the ruffian who was ducking beside the wheel well.
“Mister, I expect the old lady is headed to the back to neutralize those two dogs. If you get in this Jeep and drive away now, I’ll go try to keep her from blowing their heads off.” Ben waved for him to leave.
“I, I’m leavin’. I’ll just git my…”
“No, you won’t just anything. I expect to hear two shots any second, now go!”
He did. Hopped into his Jeep and drove away in the moonlight.
Sylvia was in the doorway, tracking the Jeep with the shotgun.
“How’s your shoulder?” Ben asked.
“Bad enough to cry, but that’ll wait until he’s gone.”
Ben took the shotgun from her and leaned it on the wall before taking her into his arms for their first embrace. He had a pretty good idea as to how she felt about the shooting, remembering St. Louis and Al Fresco when he was a youth.
Ben P. Persons: 81-year-old son of Ben Persons
Sylvia Adams: grand-daughter of Livvy and William Ferlonson
Martha Crawley: Livvy's daughter, Sylvia's mother
Jones: hired thug of Salinger turned mute helper for Ben after headshot
Billy Harper: young man helped by Ben who helped Ben kill Salinger
Arville Johnston: stagecoach shotgun that Ben prayed for. Became Ben's friend and business partner. Helped save Ben when he was shot
Oroville Johnston: Arville's Creede resident. Grandson of Arville
Mason Salinger: bad man who Ben killed in a mine cave-in
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Sylvia Adams: grand-daughter of Livvy and William Ferlonson
Martha Crawley: Livvy's daughter, Sylvia's mother
Jones: hired thug of Salinger turned mute helper for Ben after headshot
Billy Harper: young man helped by Ben who helped Ben kill Salinger
Arville Johnston: stagecoach shotgun that Ben prayed for. Became Ben's friend and business partner. Helped save Ben when he was shot
Oroville Johnston: Arville's Creede resident. Grandson of Arville
Mason Salinger: bad man who Ben killed in a mine cave-in
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