| General Fiction posted September 24, 2010 | Chapters: |
...5 6 -7- 8... 
|
  |
Judgement From Beth and Lael
A chapter in the book Redemption
Acceptance
by bhogg
| Background Dax Connor rescued Lael Jackson from an attempted rape. The assailants were found dead. Dax has been charged to stay in town until the investigation in complete. Lael has invited him to stay with her mom and herself. Characters are listed below. |
From Previous Chapter:
"Thanks Beth, I appreciate that, but in things like this, you have to know the rest of the story. You see, I had subdued the ambassador's son, so he posed no threat to me at all. He was cuffed and lying on the floor. He looked up at me and said he wasn't going to squeal and beg for his life like my daughter did. I shot him, shattering his femur bone. I then ground his femur under my foot. This is an excruciating and slow way to kill some one. Sometimes at night, I can still hear the screams. I'm not proud of it."
No one said anything for what seemed like minutes, but was more likely just a few seconds. Dax finally continued, "Knowing that little bit about me, if you would rather me stay somewhere else, I can certainly afford a hotel."
********************************************************************
The silence was palpable. Dax started to get up and gather his things to leave. In almost eerie unison, Beth and Lael stood and moved behind his chair.
Beth, with her hand on Dax's shoulder, softly said, "We don't judge you. No one should have had to live through the kind of hell you endured with your wife and daughter. In a way, we have a bond. Terrorists robbed the love from your life and they took our Luke."
With a strong sigh, Beth went on. "There is one thing that you need to know though."
"What's that, Beth?"
"You need to know that this is Georgia. This is the deep South. Around here, watch dogs don't sleep outside. Around here, watch dogs sleep in the big house. You can sleep in Luke's room." There was a moment of silence, and then all three burst out in laughter.
Dax really needed this. The previous discussion took him back to the dark side. The spontaneous laughter brought him back. For the first time in a long time, he felt he was with friends. Part of his training was to assess people in a hurry. These two rated high on his internal radar.
Lael looked over at her mom and Dax. "Guys, this has been one hell of a day. If you don't mind, I'm going to go take a long hot bath and crawl into bed. Before I go, Dax, I hope you don't mind if I give you a big hug."
"I'd be a fool to mind."
As Lael left, Dax started cleaning the table and scraping and rinsing bowls. With few words, he and Beth worked together. It was an embarrassing habit, but he was watching her work out of the corner of his eye. You can tell a lot about people from watching how they work. Beth never stopped; just constant motion. She never had just one single thing in her hands, always something in each one. She had staged the dishes to be washed, first glasses, followed by plates and utensils and then the heavy pots. She suddenly stopped and looking at Dax, she asked, "What in the world are you doing? You are watching my every move."
Dax chuckled. "Sorry I'm so obvious. I must be out of practice. In my old career, watching, observing and categorizing people was a large part of what I did."
"Okay, Mr. Profiler. What can you tell about me from watching me clean up?"
"Are you sure you want to know?"
"Yes."
"Okay. You are a highly organized. As I watched you stage your dishes and things, you perform tasks in a highly analytical way. You're a bit of an enigma in that unlike most highly organized individuals, you have a great deal of compassion and empathy. Most behavior is not polar, but a blend .... "
"That's enough, Dax." Beth was chuckling when she said this. "I'm just not sure that I can digest all of this tonight, but for the most part, I'd say you are pretty accurate. Before we fall asleep standing up, why don't we sit down, have one more cup of decaf and take a look at those guns I told Stan about."
Beth left, returning with an old army ammo crate. She opened it up and removed two handguns that were inside, wrapped in lightly oiled cloths. "I don't know anything about guns, but these belonged to Luke."
Dax took the two guns. "Luke knew what he was doing. Both of these are fine guns. They were cleaned, oiled and put away properly. The large gun is a Colt, .45 caliber, Model M1911. The smaller is a Smith & Wesson 38 special, double action, small internal hammer, chambered for five rounds."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that they will do quite nicely."
"Dax, I'm hoping that we won't need guns, but maybe it's a good idea for you to have one for the night and me the other. I know nothing about guns, so what do you suggest?"
"The small 38 is much better for you. This is one of the best guns in the world for personal protection. It's not loaded now, so pick it up and feel it."
"It feels pretty good." Beth had grasped the handle and pointed the gun toward the back door. "It really isn't that heavy."
"It will be heavier when it's loaded, but not much. Point it at the back door and pull the trigger a couple of times." Beth did, and the revolver clicked empty on each advancing cylinder. "That's all there is to that particular gun. Think about it being an extension of your arm and point as if you were pointing your finger. Just click and shoot. It will be fairly accurate in short distance situations, which is all you will need. If you ever have to fire it, don't get fancy. Your largest target is the trunk of the human body, from below the head to above the legs. That 38 special round will take a person down with any shot in that area. I'll take the 45."
"Do you know how to use the 45 okay?"
Dax smiled. "Yes, I'm quite familiar with this particular gun." What he didn't tell her, was that using his left hand, he would probably be a better shot than anyone in the county. With his right, or natural hand, only one or two people in the world would be a better shot. Dax took a few minutes and loaded each gun. He handed the 38 to Beth and stuck the 45 behind his back, under his belt.
Looking around, Dax said, "It might be a good idea to give me a walk through of the house. In particular, I want to know where the different rooms are and all doors and windows to the outside." As they walked through, Dax checked each door and window to make sure it was locked. They finished up outside of Luke's room.
Beth opened the door and walked Dax in. "As you can see, this is across the house from where Lael and I are, so you're kind of by yourself. It has its own bathroom. The sheets are clean and you have towels and wash cloths. You should be set."
Dax smiled. "I should be just fine. It means a lot to me that the two of you trust me enough to put me under your roof."
In a complete surprise, Beth stepped close to Dax and hugged him, lightly kissing him on the cheek. Backing away, with tears in her eyes, Beth said, "What means a lot is that you saved my daughter and brought her home to me. I'll never forget what you did. Good night, Dax." Turning and leaving the room, Beth looked back one last time and gave a small wave.
Dax waved back. He thought about how she looked, from the first time her saw her walking across the yard, until just now. Beth was a beautiful woman. He guessed her to be about fifty. To Dax, fifty was the perfect age for women ... then they just got better and better. He went to bed with a smile and a stirring he hadn't felt in a quite some time.
Going to sleep under any circumstance was second nature for Dax. When you have a chance to sleep, take it. You never know when the next opportunity might arise. He had gone to sleep with the sound of artillery fire, people yelling and claxons blaring. Those were noises appropriate to the circumstance, so didn't bother him at all. The sound he now heard snapped him awake immediately. It was a sound he knew quite well. Someone was using a set of lock picks on the front door, and one tumbler had just sprung.
"Thanks Beth, I appreciate that, but in things like this, you have to know the rest of the story. You see, I had subdued the ambassador's son, so he posed no threat to me at all. He was cuffed and lying on the floor. He looked up at me and said he wasn't going to squeal and beg for his life like my daughter did. I shot him, shattering his femur bone. I then ground his femur under my foot. This is an excruciating and slow way to kill some one. Sometimes at night, I can still hear the screams. I'm not proud of it."
No one said anything for what seemed like minutes, but was more likely just a few seconds. Dax finally continued, "Knowing that little bit about me, if you would rather me stay somewhere else, I can certainly afford a hotel."
********************************************************************
The silence was palpable. Dax started to get up and gather his things to leave. In almost eerie unison, Beth and Lael stood and moved behind his chair.
Beth, with her hand on Dax's shoulder, softly said, "We don't judge you. No one should have had to live through the kind of hell you endured with your wife and daughter. In a way, we have a bond. Terrorists robbed the love from your life and they took our Luke."
With a strong sigh, Beth went on. "There is one thing that you need to know though."
"What's that, Beth?"
"You need to know that this is Georgia. This is the deep South. Around here, watch dogs don't sleep outside. Around here, watch dogs sleep in the big house. You can sleep in Luke's room." There was a moment of silence, and then all three burst out in laughter.
Dax really needed this. The previous discussion took him back to the dark side. The spontaneous laughter brought him back. For the first time in a long time, he felt he was with friends. Part of his training was to assess people in a hurry. These two rated high on his internal radar.
Lael looked over at her mom and Dax. "Guys, this has been one hell of a day. If you don't mind, I'm going to go take a long hot bath and crawl into bed. Before I go, Dax, I hope you don't mind if I give you a big hug."
"I'd be a fool to mind."
As Lael left, Dax started cleaning the table and scraping and rinsing bowls. With few words, he and Beth worked together. It was an embarrassing habit, but he was watching her work out of the corner of his eye. You can tell a lot about people from watching how they work. Beth never stopped; just constant motion. She never had just one single thing in her hands, always something in each one. She had staged the dishes to be washed, first glasses, followed by plates and utensils and then the heavy pots. She suddenly stopped and looking at Dax, she asked, "What in the world are you doing? You are watching my every move."
Dax chuckled. "Sorry I'm so obvious. I must be out of practice. In my old career, watching, observing and categorizing people was a large part of what I did."
"Okay, Mr. Profiler. What can you tell about me from watching me clean up?"
"Are you sure you want to know?"
"Yes."
"Okay. You are a highly organized. As I watched you stage your dishes and things, you perform tasks in a highly analytical way. You're a bit of an enigma in that unlike most highly organized individuals, you have a great deal of compassion and empathy. Most behavior is not polar, but a blend .... "
"That's enough, Dax." Beth was chuckling when she said this. "I'm just not sure that I can digest all of this tonight, but for the most part, I'd say you are pretty accurate. Before we fall asleep standing up, why don't we sit down, have one more cup of decaf and take a look at those guns I told Stan about."
Beth left, returning with an old army ammo crate. She opened it up and removed two handguns that were inside, wrapped in lightly oiled cloths. "I don't know anything about guns, but these belonged to Luke."
Dax took the two guns. "Luke knew what he was doing. Both of these are fine guns. They were cleaned, oiled and put away properly. The large gun is a Colt, .45 caliber, Model M1911. The smaller is a Smith & Wesson 38 special, double action, small internal hammer, chambered for five rounds."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that they will do quite nicely."
"Dax, I'm hoping that we won't need guns, but maybe it's a good idea for you to have one for the night and me the other. I know nothing about guns, so what do you suggest?"
"The small 38 is much better for you. This is one of the best guns in the world for personal protection. It's not loaded now, so pick it up and feel it."
"It feels pretty good." Beth had grasped the handle and pointed the gun toward the back door. "It really isn't that heavy."
"It will be heavier when it's loaded, but not much. Point it at the back door and pull the trigger a couple of times." Beth did, and the revolver clicked empty on each advancing cylinder. "That's all there is to that particular gun. Think about it being an extension of your arm and point as if you were pointing your finger. Just click and shoot. It will be fairly accurate in short distance situations, which is all you will need. If you ever have to fire it, don't get fancy. Your largest target is the trunk of the human body, from below the head to above the legs. That 38 special round will take a person down with any shot in that area. I'll take the 45."
"Do you know how to use the 45 okay?"
Dax smiled. "Yes, I'm quite familiar with this particular gun." What he didn't tell her, was that using his left hand, he would probably be a better shot than anyone in the county. With his right, or natural hand, only one or two people in the world would be a better shot. Dax took a few minutes and loaded each gun. He handed the 38 to Beth and stuck the 45 behind his back, under his belt.
Looking around, Dax said, "It might be a good idea to give me a walk through of the house. In particular, I want to know where the different rooms are and all doors and windows to the outside." As they walked through, Dax checked each door and window to make sure it was locked. They finished up outside of Luke's room.
Beth opened the door and walked Dax in. "As you can see, this is across the house from where Lael and I are, so you're kind of by yourself. It has its own bathroom. The sheets are clean and you have towels and wash cloths. You should be set."
Dax smiled. "I should be just fine. It means a lot to me that the two of you trust me enough to put me under your roof."
In a complete surprise, Beth stepped close to Dax and hugged him, lightly kissing him on the cheek. Backing away, with tears in her eyes, Beth said, "What means a lot is that you saved my daughter and brought her home to me. I'll never forget what you did. Good night, Dax." Turning and leaving the room, Beth looked back one last time and gave a small wave.
Dax waved back. He thought about how she looked, from the first time her saw her walking across the yard, until just now. Beth was a beautiful woman. He guessed her to be about fifty. To Dax, fifty was the perfect age for women ... then they just got better and better. He went to bed with a smile and a stirring he hadn't felt in a quite some time.
Going to sleep under any circumstance was second nature for Dax. When you have a chance to sleep, take it. You never know when the next opportunity might arise. He had gone to sleep with the sound of artillery fire, people yelling and claxons blaring. Those were noises appropriate to the circumstance, so didn't bother him at all. The sound he now heard snapped him awake immediately. It was a sound he knew quite well. Someone was using a set of lock picks on the front door, and one tumbler had just sprung.
 Recognized |
List of Characters:
Dax Connor - medically retired from Secret Service
Lael Jackson - 20 year old lady that Dax rescued
Jimmy Dent - Deputy
Sheriff Bailey - Sheriff with some questionable background
Stanley Tate - Deputy
Boudreaux - Local drug kingpin
Beth Jackson - Lael's mother
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Dax Connor - medically retired from Secret Service
Lael Jackson - 20 year old lady that Dax rescued
Jimmy Dent - Deputy
Sheriff Bailey - Sheriff with some questionable background
Stanley Tate - Deputy
Boudreaux - Local drug kingpin
Beth Jackson - Lael's mother
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