vulnerable I felt on the bridge. The railing was as old as the bridge itself, made of rusting, fitted pipes and very open. Not all that high, either.
"Now you are going to learn not to mess with me," Bert growled. He unzipped his jacket and I saw the grip of a handgun protruding above his belt.
I stepped back, not daring to turn away from him, and he reached for my arm. Just then, a shot rang out, and Bert stumbled, clutching his left shoulder.
"Hold it right there, Bert Fowler." Tracy must have come from the police station, and down Mill Street. She was now standing on the opposite side of the street to get a good angle on us.
All in one motion, Bert reached inside his jacket and turned to face Tracy. She shot again. I didn't see where the bullet hit, but the force of the blow pushed Bert against the railing. His slippery cowboy boots scrabbled on the old concrete, and he grabbed for the railing, but his left arm, at least, was useless. Without a word, he went over backwards into the roiling flume. The last thing I saw were his eyes boring into mine, still filled with hatred.
You might think no one would have attended the funeral of a man like Bert Fowler, but you would be wrong. There was no church service, however, only a short graveside observance. Of course, his friends from the bar were there. I only knew Bud, and at that, I didn't know Bud's real name. But, Chief Tracy Jarvi went too, just because the police attend local funerals. I went to be with Jimmie, who insisted he wanted to see the man be put in the ground. The local press was represented by Jerry Caulfield, distinguished owner, editor and primary reporter for the Cherry Hill Herald. He stood next to me at the graveside and attempted to ask me questions for a human interest story, before the burial service began. Although Jerry was a nice person, I was uncomfortable answering with Jimmie at my other side. Of course Adele was there. She never missed an important Cherry Hill event.
Dee, however, was still in the hospital. As it turned out she was, indeed, not well. Her obesity was due, for the most part, to serious hypothyroidism, which had gone untreated for at least the three years she had been with Bert. They were trying to stabilize her, and to get her medication levels adjusted. Jimmie was overjoyed that his mom was going to get well.
The ceremony was brief, and to the point. No one, not even Bud, had any eulogies to give for Bert Fowler.
After the service, Jerry Caulfield and Adele walked with Jimmie and me back to our cars.
"You should thank Adele this service wasn't for you," Jerry opened. His tone was lighthearted, but I knew he was serious.
"So I've heard."
"She called the police just as soon as she saw Bert Fowler get out of his truck."
"That cowboy hat always did make him easy to identify, and there's a clear sight line from my store right through the park," Adele said."
"Thanks, Mrs. Volger," Jimmie added. "I was running around the block, but I couldn't get there any faster because of the river." He sounded apologetic. "And I dropped the lunch too."
"That's all right, Jimmie. You were doing just the right thing," I said. "You got away, and Tracy got there in time."
"Come by my house, Ana," Jerry implored. "You certainly don't want next week's Herald to print an incorrect version of events."
I still wasn't used to the concept that everyone had to know about every local event. However, I had to admit a shooting on the second-busiest street in Cherry Hill was probably news. "I'll call you," I promised
Jerry accepted this, and headed off to his car.
Adele was simply bursting with something she wanted to share. "I have just the most wonderful thing to tell you. You and Jimmie both. Mostly Jimmie, actually." She turned to him, "But first, I want to be sure you have a place to stay."
"I'm staying with my new Nana for a few days," Jimmie said, grinning.
"Nana?" Adele looked confused. I wondered how this would go, since Adele and Cora don't get along very well.
"He's staying with Cora until Dee is out of the hospital," I explained. "She has two empty bedrooms."
"I could have stayed at our trailer. I can take care of myself," Jimmie put in.
"We know, but the county doesn't like that plan," I said.
"Aw phooey, I could do it," Jimmie added. However, he didn't sound upset about spending time with Cora.
"Oh, well, I guess that makes some sense. His grandfather was crazy about her. That woman has no sense," Adele said in a huff.
"I want to learn all about my grandfather Jimmie Mosher, and maybe open the Cherry Blossom Restaurant again. The Pine Tree is OK, but we need another place to eat here."
"I'm sure you can do it, if you put your mind to it," Adele said.
"Jimmie is a pretty good businessman already," I added. I put a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. "But maybe you'll need to wait at least until you're out of middle school."
"Maybe," Jimmie admitted reluctantly.
"Well, here's my good news," Adele said.
"Yes?"
"I've been talking with Glenn Erickson."
"The Habitat for Humanity guy?" I asked.
"Exactly. He thinks this will be one of their most worthy projects ever. They are going to fix up that old house at 714 N. Dogwood Street for Dee and Jimmie. It's right on the edge of town."
"I know where it is!" Jimmie exclaimed. "I already cleaned up the empty cans there. It's got woods in back and a big yard. We could have chickens and a pony."
"What would you do with a pony? You're going to be too big for one before long," Adele said.
"Beth and Lindsey will come, at least for the summers, and we will be the Three Branch Ranch."
"I hope so," I replied. "I hope so."
Adele had just one more topic on her mind. "Ana, you really will call Jerry Caulfield, won't you?"
"Oh, all right. I suppose it will be better than having someone make up a story about what happened."
"You know, he likes you."
"Adele, for heaven's sake!"
"Just promise me that if he asks you on a date, you'll go."
This was really too much to take, especially with Jimmie there. I said, "I'll think about it."
"Ana," Adele warned, "you are thinking about way too many things. It's time to do something."
About the Author
Joan Young has enjoyed the out-of-doors her entire life. Highlights of her outdoor adventures include Girl Scouting, which provided yearly training in camp skills, the opportunity to engage in a ten-day canoe trip, and numerous short backpacking excursions. She was selected to attend the 1965 Senior Scout Roundup in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, an international event to which 10,000 girls were invited. She has ridden a bicycle from the Pacific to the Atlantic Ocean in 1986, and on August 3, 2010 became the first woman to complete the North Country National Scenic Trail on foot. Her mileage totaled 4395 miles. She often writes about her outdoor experiences.
Recently, she has begun writing more fiction, with several award-winning short stories awaiting publication at Twin Trinity Media. News from Dead Mule Swamp was her debut novel of the Anastasia Raven mystery series.
News from Dead Mule Swamp (Anastasia Raven mysteries #1)
Get Off the Couch with Joan
Devotions for Hikers
Connect with me online:
My Author Blog: Shark Bytes and Tales
My Personal Blog: My Quality Day
Facebook: jhyshark
The Hollow Tree at Dead Mule Swamp Page 10