CHAPTER FIFTEEN

-:- SARA -:-

Evan and his Gramps have bonded so well, and they are inseparable. Now Evan has started school, and it’s going to be tough the first few days. Pops is going to be lost without his little shadow following him everywhere. I’m going to notice the silence most of all.

Ever since we got here, all I’ve heard is Evan saying things like, ‘What’s that, Gramps?’, ‘Where are we going now, Gramps?’, ‘Why are you doing that, Gramps?’ , then I’d hear my Pops answering every question so patiently, and explaining things to Evan until he understands.

I used to read Evan a bedtime story each night, but since we’ve been here, I’ve just had to sit and listen to him tell me about his day. He would tell me where they’d been on the homestead, what they had done, and what he had learned.

He got overly excited one day, telling me all about this bag his Gramps has that is full of guns, knives and stuff. After seeing something he shouldn’t, Gramps told him it was their secret, and that he shouldn’t tell anyone else about it. Evan figured that I wasn’t ‘anyone’, but that I shouldn’t tell Gramps I know about it.

Evan had been with us the day Pops tried to show me how to shoot a pistol safely and accurately. I was hopeless. I tried for three hours to hit a bottle on a stump and didn’t even hit the damn stump, never mind the bottle. After I went to get supper on, Evan told me later that Gramps had said, ‘Your Momma couldn’t hit a barn door at three feet even if she had a four-foot pole!’ Evan wasn’t sure what that meant, but I got the picture.

Pops took me to a friend of his, Bobby Joe Junior, who was a gunsmith and bladesmith. He looked way too old to be a junior anything. When he explained what my shooting was like, Bobby Joe Junior took a pistol out from a drawer in his workshop and handed it to me. It looked like a beast of a weapon, and it was surprisingly light compared to the impression I got when I first saw it.

“Let’s go try this for size,” Pops told me.

Walking behind the workshop, I could see that it was set up as a very basic shooting range. Passing me a bag, Pops told me to load it and aim it at the first bottle on the right. Bobby Joe Junior suggested I hold it with both hands, as it had quite a kick.

Opening the bag, I reached in for what I thought would be normal rounds of ammunition. Instead, I pulled out shotgun shells. Loading the pistol, it held six shells, I snapped it shut and checked for the safety switch. Aiming at the first bottle and holding the pistol with both hands, I braced myself and fired.

The bottle disintegrated and I almost peed my pants. The kick wasn’t as vicious as I’d expected, but it certainly had a kick. The noise was horrendous.

Bobby Joe Junior explained that it was accurate at close range, but more of a scare factor at any distance. If a threat got close enough for it to be accurate, they deserved to die basically. I was kept at it for an hour, and when I got used to the range that I could successfully hit something, they called it a day. Pops and Bobby Joe Junior said they would take care of the concealed carry license, which I took to mean they would do a bit of something shady to make me legal. I didn’t ask.

I’d got Evan off to school one morning. I was busy clearing the kitchen after breakfast and as I looked out the window, I saw Pops putting a bag in his pickup. That bag looked suspiciously like the one Evan had described. I thought it odd when Evan told me his Gramps had been asking him about his old home. Pops never spoke to me about that stuff or mentioned the asshole, so it had surprised me.

Having a lightbulb moment, I knew what he was up to. Quickly heading out to the pickup, I checked out the bag. Walking out of the building and seeing me standing there holding it, Pops looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“No, Pops, you can’t do this. It’s done and finished, and I’ve heard nothing since we left and you are not going there to stir shit up. If anything should happen to you Evan would be devastated. You’re going to do more harm than good. If I wanted him dead, I’d do it myself.”

“He can’t be allowed to get away with this, Sara. He needs to be held accountable. He broke Evan’s arm, for Christ’s sake.”

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t still have nightmares about what he did to Evan and me? I don’t need more nightmares over something happening to you, or you stirring shit up and him coming looking for us, or his damn cash.”

“I need to do this as he hurt my family, and he needs to hurt too.”

“Bullshit… This is just some misguided paternal thing, macho crap. If he comes here, you can have him, and he’ll be all yours, if I haven’t got to him first. Until then, we get on with our lives, the three of us. You can teach Evan how to defend himself. You know all that stuff, I know you do. Teach your grandson how to be a good man and let him be your legacy. Don’t do this, Pops. Evan could find out eventually what you have done, and it could destroy your relationship.”

I saw that he knew I was right. I saw it in his eyes, the way his shoulders drooped, and the sigh he let out. Handing him the bag, he took it back into the building. Walking into the house together, we linked arms, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Pops. For wanting to hold him accountable and for not going through with it. Let’s have a coffee on the porch and talk about the good times when I was a kid, before Mom became an ass!”

We spent a couple of hours together and was it amazing how much we not only forget but also the difference in perspective of those memories. Pops had forgotten that it was Mom who stopped me from going on camping trips. He remembered it as me being a teenage girl and not wanting to do ‘male’ stuff. We certainly put the world to rights in those two hours, never mind the good it did for our relationship.

Spending this time with Pops reminds me of how we came to be here. I should give Evan a call and let him know how we’re getting on. After all, it was his intervention that got us started out of that mess. I’ll never forget the look the asshole gave when Evan slapped him so hard across the face. Damn, he had another name other than Evan. It’s on the card he gave me. How quickly we can forget details.

Going through my purse, I find the card. Jig… That was it, Jig… How on earth do you get a nickname like Jig, I wonder? I’m not asking. It could be something too personal for him to discuss with a complete stranger.

Oh. That’s a good point. Will he want to be contacted by a complete stranger that he just happened to help out? Of course, he will. That’s why he gave us the card. Although he said if we were ever in trouble, and we’re not in trouble. Talk about second-guessing yourself at every turn. This is down to that asshole playing with my head all the time. Perhaps I should have let Pops go after all and play with his head.

I should call ‘Jig’ and tell him that Evan and I are ok. Maybe I should invite him out for a visit? Maybe I don’t need to give in to hero worship just yet, either.

Taking up my phone, I enter the number before my nerves, or lack of confidence, get the better of me. Hearing a woman answer takes me by surprise until I realize it’s a business number.

“Erm, hi. Is it possible to speak to Jig, please?”

“It’ll just take me a moment to fetch him. Who shall I say is calling?”

“It’s Sara. He might remember me better as the woman from the hospital.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll get him for you. Just give me a minute.”

It doesn’t seem a minute until I hear a male voice on the line. “Hi, Sara. How’s Evan’s arm doing?” His first thought is of my son. Oh wow. That gives me a lump in the throat.

“Hi, Jig. He’s doing fine and will be getting his cast off soon. Thank you for asking and thank you for what you did. There has been no one else that has done what you did for him, and others have seen or known what that asshole was like.”

“Has there been any trouble with him? Has he tried anything since that day?”

“I haven’t seen or heard anything since you sorted him out. Our lives have completely transformed, living with my Pops has been the best thing we could have done. You really opened my eyes that day and I haven’t looked back. Evan and his Gramps are like two peas in a pod, they spend every waking minute together. For a man that has lived alone for years, he’s not at all bothered at being followed everywhere, and having questions thrown his way at every turn.”

“That is wonderful. I’m so happy for the little guy, and for his Gramps, too. By the sound of it, they’re soulmates. How about you? How are you doing?”

“Erm, okay, I guess. Reconnecting with Pops has been great. I never realized how much I missed him. Wallowing in that shitty relationship blinded me to a lot of things, and you opened my eyes in the lift that day.”

“No soulmate for you yet, huh?”

“Jig, I don’t think I’d know what a soulmate looks like. I guess I’ll have trust issues too, for a long time.”

“Well, don’t give up hope. I never thought I’d find the right one for me, either, but it happened. She was the most unlikely one, too. You hang in there, Sara, you deserve the good stuff, now you’re out of the bad.”

Whoa! There goes that pipe-dream. My hero has a woman to love. Why didn’t I see that coming? Okay. No invites to the old homestead then. I can’t see his woman being too happy with an invitation to visit with someone he rescued. She’d be able to read plenty into that, I’m sure.

“That’s great, Jig. I’m happy for both of you. I have to go, Evan will be home soon, but it was great talking to you, and thanks again.”

“Thank you for calling, and I hope it all works out for you now. Say hi to Evan and your Pops from me. Bye.”

Putting my phone on the kitchen table, I wipe away a stray tear. Accept it, kiddo, I think to myself. He was a good guy and a good catch. Someone caught him before you did.