Next World Series | Vol. 5 | Families First [Homecoming]

by Ewing, Lance K.

  David sighed and paused before speaking. “My apologies. I understand your position, Doctor, and I only want what’s best for my son… What happened?”

  “He had a complication from the concussion and blacked out. I’m going to want to observe him for another day or two. Trust me, he can’t get better care anywhere. Once he is released from my care, you will all be back out of town, and I can’t do much more from here besides sending you home with meds, unless you can get back down here for regular checkups.”

  “We’re not too far out,” said David, as the first perks of in-town living hit him straight in the face. “All we have is the four-wheelers, though. I’m guessing that’s not recommended for Mark anytime soon.”

  “I don’t even recommend it for you right now,” Dr. Walters responded. “I’m not sure if you’re in the market for a truck, but there’s a guy, a farmer not far out of town. I’ve treated his whole family for years and they have a few running trucks for sale. I’ll tell you up-front, though, they are not cheap. It’s probably why he still has them.”

  David got the information on the farmer and would talk to Mel about it later.

  Mark was back up and talking, just like nothing ever happened.

  “It’s breakfast time,” said Calleigh. “Would you mind coming back a little later, sir?”

  David looked at Mark, who nodded that all was okay.

  * * * *

  “Breakfast is on me,” said Jason, taking David to the Weston Grill and Tavern.

  They waited inside, as Jason wanted to avoid Cam, the electrical man who failed to deliver on James’ chair. He told David the story while they waited inside at the front counter until their breakfast was delivered.

  “Let’s eat outside,” said David abruptly, grabbing his plate and heading straight for the oldest man he could see.

  “They call you Cam, right?” he asked, sitting down, with a reluctant Jason still inside.

  “Maybe. Who’s asking?”

  “I’m a friend of Jason’s; you know, the guy who paid you to complete a motorized chair for the Mayor of this town. But you haven’t done that, have you?”

  “No pay, no play!” said Cam defiantly.

  “Oh, but you have been paid, and more than once. You don’t care either way if the project is completed, do you?”

  “Nope, you got me there. Don’t make a rat’s ass to me what happens now.”

  “I can understand your point. That steak you’re eating there with your eggs, you know where that’s from? James VanFleet,” he added before Cam could guess. “Jason credits James with saving his life; and now, as of yesterday, Jason saved my life, and my son’s as well. That chair you don’t care much about is from Jason to James.”

  “Mayor’s already got one,” said Cam, seeming bored with the conversation.

  “Not from Jason, he doesn’t. I hear you’re the electric man who keeps this restaurant’s generators running in exchange for a meal every day.”

  “Maybe,” replied a disinterested Cam.

  “I have a lot of experience in this area, just like you,” David continued. “I’ll do it for free as a personal friend of the man who is not only Mayor of your town but also supplied the beef to keep this, the only restaurant in town, running. Plus, I’ll bet you go into the kitchen a couple of times a week and bang a hammer on something, so everyone thinks you’re working. I’m guessing you only occasionally have to do any real work on the generators, and here you are, eating steak. How about you show me around, and I’ll take over this afternoon?”

  “Now, wait just a minute! I was just a sittin’ here minding my own business, and now I’ve got all this you’re bringing me. What do you want?” asked Cam, suddenly realizing he could lose his cushy job.

  “I want you to give Jason the chair you promised him. Don’t tell me the Judge shorted the deal or anything else; I’ve heard it already. They have both paid you fairly for something you didn’t deliver. Here are four silvers, more than enough to get it done. I’ll be in town for two or three days, so what’s it going to be?”

  “All right, okay. I’ll start on it this afternoon.”

  “Now is good,” said David. “I’ll tag along, so give me the grand tour…

  “Let’s go, Jason. Cam’s going to finish the chair and has two days to do it.”

  The tour revealed a half-completed motorized wheelchair, with the rest of the parts strewn about the floor.

  “It looks like you have everything you need to get this done,” said David. “How about you put in a couple of full days of work and finish it?” he added as he and Jason headed out.

  * * * *

  They returned to Second Chances Ranch early in the afternoon, following a quick second check on a comfortable Mark.

  “I’ll admit it,” said David. “I might have a change of heart about being inside the town limits.”

  “Really?” asked James. “How so?”

  “Well, doctors and nurses are giving top-notch care to my only son. The restaurant food was crazy good, and I’m concerned about being isolated as a small group in the mountains with surrounding cities on all sides. We could use a good dog like Chance up on the property,” he added, petting him on the head.

  “He’s got a sister almost as big. May still be available; I don’t know. What do you think Tina and your mother will think about all this?” asked James.

  “My mom is old school; she’s lived up there for many years. Tina’s from the city and misses it, I know. Maybe this thing you’re talking about could give us some of both.”

  “And Mark?” asked James.

  “He’s been here a day and is already lovestruck. It is going to be hard to keep him away from town now.”

  “Can you blame him?” asked Jason.

  “No. No, I can’t. I just remembered all of the bad things happening with the Sheriff and that Judge you were telling me about, James.”

  “The Judge is gone now, and I’m second in line to run the town,” said James. Sheriff Johnson has a particular way of doing things, I know, but we understand each other. Jason and I have been one step ahead of both the Sheriff and Judge Lowry the whole time…

  “Have you seen our still? We have an incredible 360-degree view of the property up on the roof. Let’s take a look at both.”

  “Sure. I just need to get hold of Mel on the radio. Dr. Walters knows a farmer with three running trucks for sale. He doesn’t want me running Mark up and down the mountain on the four-wheelers. Here’s the info on him,” said David, handing James a piece of paper Dr. Walters had written on. You ever heard of him?”

  “Makes sense,” said James, looking at the paper. “I know him; he’s one of my longtime customers. Let’s take a ride over there together. What’s he want for each of them?”

  “Doc didn’t know. Just said they were likely expensive.”

  “I’ll bet,” replied James. “Supply and demand with everything nowadays.”

  A quick call with Mel got David excited, hearing Mel was interested in two of the vehicles—with a package deal, of course.

  James and Jason hadn’t spent much time up on the rooftop deck. None at all, really, since their moonshine lunch a few weeks back that felt like years ago now.

  “I have not seen it, but it sounds good,” said David. “I’m just a looker today, though. I want to head into town and see Mark one more time tonight. I can take my four-wheeler.”

  “You’ll take a beating on those ribs,” said Jason. “We will take a look at the still and James may even give you a bottle to take with you. Then I’ll drive you to town in the truck.”

  “I’ll send you home with a whole case,” added in James. “My biggest customer was Judge Lowry, and he stopped buying last Saturday. We’ve got more than we know what to do with now. I’ll need your help getting up there, both of you,” added James.

  “Sure thing. And a case sounds good to me; I can give Mel something he doesn’t already own. Put it on my hotel tab, and I’ll pay when I check out,
if that’s okay?”

  “It’s not like that around here, or up at your place, I hear,” said James. “No tabs amongst friends.”

  David was impressed with the efficiency of the still and complimented James on the construction.

  “I had some help with it, for sure,” James replied.

  “Would you look at that?” pointed James, once they were on the roof.

  Four hot air balloons slowly crossed the horizon, heading towards the ranch.

  “Should we be concerned?” asked Jason, gripping his rifle.

  “Nah,” said James. “I recognize two of them. The red one there has the car dealership logo on it and the greenish-yellow one next to it has some hotshot law firm name, if I remember. I think they’re just out for a flight, or a float, whatever the official term is. Besides, not a lot of people can fly one of those things.”

  “They scare the daylights out of me,” said Jason. “Always hitting power lines or floating away, never to be seen again!”

  “Never?” asked David.

  “Just what I heard is all,” replied Jason, now thinking it sounded dumb coming out of his mouth. “Everything is found eventually, that’s right,” he said aloud.

  “I’m just joking with you,” said David. “Feel free to tell me to shut up!

  “Please hand me my binoculars, Jason, and take a look through your scope down at those trucks there,” James said, pointing.

  “I got them,” said Jason.

  “Me too,” replied David, looking through his own scope a hundred yards away on the road.

  “Probably just following the balloons, like they do in case they have to pick them up before the landing spot,” said James, focusing his binoculars.

  * * * * * * *

  Chapter Thirty

  Weston, Colorado

  “Maybe cancel that thought!” James said, as all three saw the beds of both trucks filled with men wearing masks of varying colors and all carrying rifles.

  Pop! Pop! Pop! could be heard, as puffs of smoke rose from the trucks, not slowing pace.

  “Wait a minute! Are they shooting at the balloons?” asked David.

  “Surely not!” said James, watching in horror as the shots fired increased, and two of the baskets rocked side-to-side. “Those people up there are sitting ducks; they can’t go fast or high enough to get away!” said James, raising his own rifle. “They’re just laughing, the shooters, like it’s a round of skeet.”

  “No, no, no!” called out Jason, looking at a man hanging off the side of the red balloon’s basket.

  “What’s he doing? He can’t jump—he’ll never make it!” cried David.

  Others in the balloon were seen trying to pull him back in. Every time he would gain an inch, he was hit with a random bullet. After a few quickly fired, he dropped, flailing his arms and legs on the way down.

  “We can’t let these people get slaughtered!” said James. “How many rounds do we have up here, Jason?”

  “Uh, hold on,” he said, fumbling with the keys to the locked roof trunk. “Let’s see. We’ve got two or three hundred rounds for ours, and what’s your caliber, David?”

  “.223,” he replied.

  “Okay, we have you covered too.”

  “All right,” said James. “Janice will keep everyone inside when she hears the shooting, but we can’t let them get up to the house. Ready? Pick any guy and drop him. They’re zigzagging a lot with crazy turns, so lead them just a bit and keep your heads down. Okay…now!” he commanded, opening fire.

  The men in both trucks were confused at first, believing it was return fire from the balloons. They kept firing into the sky, but some were now ducking, and both drivers skidded to a stop.

  All three men on James’ rooftop deck uttered the phrase “Man down” after only a minute.

  “We’ve got loaded magazines by your feet, gentlemen,” said Jason.

  “Don’t let them get up to the house,” said James. “I’ll shoot every round we’ve got if we have to.”

  It didn’t take long for the shooters to realize where the crossfire originated. The ones left looked like about ten, including the drivers and half of the original bunch.

  “Here we go! Watch your heads!” called out James.

  An array of steel projectiles hit the rooftop’s outer layer, with more zinging overhead.

  “Watch those trucks,” called out James. “I don’t want anyone sneaking off and coming through our back door later.”

  The shooters, apparently without spare mags, reloaded all about the same time, picking up random shells scattered about the truck beds.

  “They are reloading. Hit them hard!” said James. “Take the trucks out for sure.”

  James glanced up to where the balloons were and saw only two moving far off in the distance.

  “I only see two. There are two,” he called out.

  Both trucks, riddled with bullets, didn’t move. Smoke poured from the radiator of one, and the other crept at maybe two miles per hour.

  The remaining heads popped up at nearly the same time, and James with his company did what needed to be done.

  “Grab the truck, Jason, and throw my old chair in the back; we’ll cover you,” said James. “Come pick us up, and let’s find those balloons. It looks like we’ve got good people on the ground.”

  “I’ll get a heads-up to Doc Walters, in case we have incoming,” said Jason, running for the truck.

  “How are you holding up, David?” asked James.

  “Well, I’ve never shot an AR with two broken ribs,” he groaned. “I don’t recommend it, but if we saved a life, I would do it again. Will God forgive us?”

  “He has directed us to be the protectors of the innocent,” said James. “He put us here to fight evil, which would surely have headed for the town next. I see two balloons in the air, so the other two are down, and we need to find them.”

  Before helping James into the truck, Jason said he told Janice and Lauren to be extra careful and lock up the house tight.

  “Help me scan the land,” said James. “We have a better chance of spotting the downed baskets from up here.”

  “Over there!” called out David, pointing north. “It’s the green and yellow one.”

  “Take one more minute,” said James. “Let’s look for anything red.”

  With nothing showing up in the scans, they headed for the green balloon, first checking the intruders’ trucks. Nearly all were deceased. Gone up or down, depending upon their actions and beliefs.

  Both trucks were within 200 feet of each other. Six men, all injured—from grave to recoverable—remained with weapons down and begging to live. David used his rifle to cover two minimally injured men, moving them from one truck to the other and grouping up with the rest. Once he had their attention, he spoke.

  “There was a man in my camp only days ago that would have taken all of you out and not missed his next meal. You preying on the innocent for sport is wrong, and he wouldn’t stand for it. I don’t either, but it’s not up to me to decide your fate. You are in the town of Weston, and it’s not my call. So, do your best to help your friends worse off, especially him,” he pointed to a man in the back truck bed. “Reach for a weapon, and it will be my call.”

  David held the men he knew were bad until help arrived. It was a truck with one doctor and two of the Sheriff’s deputies.

  “Should we tell the Sheriff about the new guests?” asked one deputy.

  “No, let him fish. He will find out soon enough that we have a jail full,” replied another.

  * * * *

  James and Jason left and found the two downed balloons. Four casualties, all gunshot wounds, with another two injured and the rest frightened but unharmed. Both were able to land safely, having the gunfire diverted by James and his men. They loaded the survivors into the truck, headed for town. We will have the rest picked up and brought to the cemetery before day’s end, James promised the grieving family and friends. He arranged for a few more depu
ties to come and transport the deceased ballooners to town, and he met them there.

  “Been a busy week,” the funeral home director said to James. “It doesn’t pay anything anymore, and you all are taking up my dirt.”

  “I’ll see what we can do,” said James, handing him two silver coins. “We can’t have our undertaker quitting on us. The funeral is tomorrow?”

  “Yes, Mayor. No sense in waiting longer than that. And thank you,” he added, holding up the silvers.

  “All right, then. We have some more coming; they’re the ones who are responsible for killing these fine folks here. Understand?”

  “We’ll keep them separate, just like we kept those two guys from the gladiator fight away from the townsfolk on the bleachers. And they don’t take up valuable ground space next to any good citizens of this town.”

  James nodded his head, asking what time tomorrow.

  “Let’s say 2 p.m. Enough time to get the word out?” asked the funeral director.

  “Yes. We’ll see you then,” said James, meeting back up with Jason and David.

  * * * *

  “I’ve got Janice on the walkie-talkie for you,” said Jason. He had filled her and Lauren in on the details of the day.

  “When are you boys coming home?” she asked James.

  “A couple of hours, I guess. We have to make a quick stop or two first. You, Lauren, and the kiddos get dressed. We’re eating out tonight. Pick you up when we’re done.”

  They stopped by his old friend and longtime customer’s farm, inquiring about the trucks for sale.

  “Got some beauties still running good,” he said, greeting James like an old friend he hadn’t seen in a while.

  “That red one over there…well, used to be red…now maybe a little pink—she’s a ’63 Ford F-100 and a workhorse. A new coat of paint and she’ll be ready to roll. That other one, the Chevy C10 over there, is a ’71. I restored her myself. What do you all think?”

  “They look good from here,” said David. “Dr. Walters said you had three. Where is the other one?”

  “Sold two days back. Got some other folks comin’ by later to look at these two. I ain’t yankin’ your chain, James. Just sayin’ is all.”