Jack of Hearts

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Jack of Hearts Page 6

by Christopher Greyson


  “Run!” the two women shrieked in unison.

  Jack’s thighs burned as he pulled his legs through the water and ran for the bank.

  “Run!”

  Jack reached the shore just as the water behind him erupted in spray. The alligator charged onshore after him. Jack’s feet slipped on the slick grass, and he pitched forward. As he fell, he tucked his legs up and rolled away from the alligator.

  A roar rose above the women’s shrill screams. Lady had bounded forward and landed protectively between Jack and the alligator. She planted her feet and bared her teeth.

  Jack scrambled to his feet. He didn’t know how a matchup between an alligator and a dog would go, even one as big as Lady, but he wasn’t about to let Lady go it alone.

  “Back! Back!” he shouted.

  The alligator took one look at Lady, twisted around, and slipped back into the pond.

  Jack and Lady pressed against each other as they backed up—Lady barking ferociously the whole time. Her entire body trembled against him, and he remembered how scared she was of the geckos.

  When they got to the safety of the patio, Jack pulled the enormous dog even closer and wrapped her in a bear hug.

  “You have no idea how much I love you, Lady. And I promise you will never have to go on a plane again.”

  8

  So You Got a Boo-Boo

  Curtis Dixon burst through the back door of his aunt’s house and shut it fast, his hand leaving a bloody trail down the side of the door. He cradled his bleeding head with his other hand and stomped down the hallway to the bathroom. He grabbed a washcloth and pressed it against the gash in his head, watching the blood drip into the sink. His hand shook with rage as he glared into the mirror.

  The hallway light flicked on and footsteps shuffled against the tile.

  “You fool!” his aunt hissed as she banged open the bathroom door. “Did anyone see you come here? You woke up the whole—”

  “Shut up.” Dixon ripped open a cabinet and began yanking out bandages, antiseptic, and gauze. “No one saw me.”

  “What the hell happened? Did you—”

  Dixon slammed the cabinet and stepped nose-to-nose with his aunt. “She surprised me in the kitchen and hit me with a glass.”

  “And…?” His aunt crossed her arms and glared back.

  “Look!” Dixon turned back to the mirror and pointed at a spot two inches above his ear. Light from the vanity gleamed off a shard of glass sticking out of his head.

  His aunt stepped up next to him, grabbed the shard, and yanked it out.

  Dixon let fly with a stream of curses.

  Unfazed, his aunt threw the glass in the trash. “Where’s the package?”

  Dixon pressed the washcloth against the cut. “I told you. She cut my head!”

  “So you got a boo-boo. Put a couple of sissy stickers on it.” She grabbed the bandages off the counter and smacked them into his chest. “Where’s the package?”

  “I didn’t get it.”

  His aunt washed the blood off her hand. “You’re telling me that Laura Stratton, who weighs about a buck and a quarter wet, kicked your big bad ass?”

  “You didn’t tell me other people were there!”

  His aunt stared at her reflection in the mirror. Dixon watched as her hard glare softened and her look of refinement returned. “Her son stopped by today. With a girl. I didn’t think they were staying overnight.”

  “You could have given me a heads-up,” Dixon snarled as he pulled back the washcloth.

  His aunt picked up another washcloth and wet it. She turned Dixon to face her and motioned for him to lower his head. “I apologize for shouting.” She dabbed gently at the wound. “The cut isn’t that bad. You can’t go anywhere right now, though. Things need to cool off. Get cleaned up and I’ll figure out how you’re going to fix the mess you made tonight. You’ll need to go back and get that package.”

  “I’ll get it.” Dixon snatched the washcloth out of his aunt’s hand, wadded it into a tight ball, and crushed it in his fist. “I’ll get it—and then I’m going to make that old broad pay.”

  9

  A Fine-Looking Boy

  Jack stood in the driveway, dripping wet and clothed only in his boxers. Two cruisers had already arrived, and Jack had brought the policemen up to speed. The police had now fanned out to look for the thief, but had asked Jack to wait there to speak to the senior officer, who was still en route. Old men in bathrobes and old women in hairnets were gathered all around; it looked as if the entire community had gotten up to witness the excitement.

  “Everything’s fine.” Jack held up his hands and tried to calm the crowd. “You should all go home now.”

  The old woman who had first shouted at Jack from her doorway came out carrying a towel and some medicine for the ant bites. She handed them to Alice. “Here. This will help.”

  Alice gave Jack the towel, and a smattering of boos rippled from the crowd as he wrapped it around his waist.

  Laura’s neck rose as she glared. “May I remind you that he’s my son.”

  Ruby stood beside her in a bright-orange robe. “And you raised a fine-looking boy.”

  Alice sprayed the medicine on Jack’s feet. “Boy, those ants might be small, but they have a big bite.”

  “Speaking of big bites,” Ted said, “good thing Lady came along when she did.”

  “You can say that again.” Jack scratched behind Lady’s ears. She hadn’t left his side since she’d rescued him at the pond.

  Laura placed her hand on Jack’s back. “That was horrible.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Ted winked at Jack. “I thought it was like an old B-movie. Godzilla vs. the Werewolf.”

  “Lady’s a real hero.” Alice rubbed the dog’s head. “She loves Jack. She was terrified, but she wouldn’t let anything happen to him.”

  “The whole thing was terrifying,” Laura said. “I felt helpless.”

  “Come on, Mom. I’ve never seen you move that fast!” Jack said.

  Ted laughed. “I have. When Jack was seven, he wanted to get Laura’s attention. She was at the sink and he was on the stairs.” Ted reenacted the action for the crowd of listeners. “He leaned over the railing and waved at her, but she didn’t see. So he leaned over further, and poof! He starts falling headfirst.”

  Ruby gasped.

  “The way Laura pounced—it was like watching a National Geographic special on lions! She dropped the dish she was cleaning and sprang. Three long strides and she caught Jack by his ankles. It put her back out for a week, but his head never touched the floor.”

  Color rushed to Jack’s cheeks as everyone oohed and aahed.

  “You don’t remember anything about the guy?” Jack asked his mother again.

  She pulled her bathrobe tight and shook her head. “It was so fast. I heard the door, turned to look, and he rushed at me. My hands flew up, and the glass hit him.”

  “Wow,” Ruby said, impressed. “I didn’t know you hit him, Laura.”

  She looked down. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “You did a great job, Mom. Tell me more. Was he wearing a mask? Did you see his hair? Anything?”

  She pressed her lips together as tightly as her eyes and stayed like that for a minute. “I’m just not sure. He was a blur. I think he wore jeans, but…”

  Jack rubbed her arm. “That’s great, Mom. I’ll tell the cops that.”

  Police lights flashed at the end of the block as another cruiser pulled onto the street. A light-blue BMW followed closely behind.

  Jack walked forward, wincing on tender feet. He stopped under the streetlight and flagged down the cruiser. As the crowd moved to follow him, Jack turned around. “Okay. Everyone has to go back to their homes.” A murmur of protest rose. “No one saw anything tonight, so please, go home. Now.”

  A few of the old folks finally turned and shuffled back toward their homes, but most lingered. This is probably the most exciting thing that’s ever happened in this pla
ce, Jack thought.

  The patrol car parked beside Jack, and a policeman in his late fifties opened the door. Because of his pot belly, he had to scoot over before he swung his legs out to get up. As he reached back in for his hat, he kept a puzzled eye on Jack.

  The BMW parked behind the cruiser, and Helen Miller, the community manager Jack had met the day before, stepped out.

  Jack read the cop’s badge. “Evening, Officer French. I’m Jack Stratton. There was a break-in at my parents’ house.”

  Ruby stepped forward. “There’ve been break-ins all over Orange Blossom. When’s something going to be done about it?”

  Jack and French were surrounded by the crowd, who all began speaking at once. French held up his hands and asked for quiet, but people just raised their voices even louder.

  “Everyone will be heard,” Helen said confidently, striding over to stand next to Jack. “I know it’s late, but I encourage everyone to accompany me back to the community center so we can discuss this.”

  Questions flew from the pajama-clad crowd.

  “Is it safe?”

  “What about the burglar?”

  “When is something going to be done?”

  “Those are all very good questions, and I’ll be happy to answer them all,” Helen replied, “but why don’t we do it in air conditioning with some snacks? Let’s all go back to the community center.”

  An elderly man raised his hand like a child in class. “Will you have some of those little sugar cookies with the sprinkles?”

  Helen nodded. “Tia was putting them out when I left, Mr. Gimble. Now, if you will all follow me, I trust Officer French has everything under control.”

  French tipped his hat. “I can assure everyone that the situation is under control. We have several patrols out right now and will leave a unit here tonight.”

  Everyone started talking again.

  “But what about tomorrow night?”

  “And the rest of the week?”

  “Why don’t you just catch the guy?”

  Helen held up her hands again. “Once we go back to the community center, I’ll write down all of these excellent questions for Officer French.” To French, she added, “Then, if you’ll stop by later, I’ll share everyone’s concerns with you.”

  “That’s a great idea.” French wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

  Some of the crowd followed Helen, and the rest went back to their homes. Jack walked over to the cruiser with French.

  “You chased the guy?” French asked Jack.

  Jack nodded. “I was on the job. Sheriff Department in Darrington. I took medical retirement after I got shot.” Jack decided to leave out the details of Sheriff Collins forcing him out for disobeying orders.

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Life goes on, right?” He gave French the details of the break-in.

  “You didn’t get any look at him? Even a silhouette?”

  “Nothing. By the time I got outside, he was either around a corner or the next yard over. I was following him by noise. My mother saw him, but she was too shaken up by the whole thing to even notice his appearance. She thought he might be wearing jeans.”

  French tapped his notebook. “Thanks. We’ll take it from here.”

  “People are saying there have been a number of break-ins out here.”

  “It’s all low-level stuff.”

  “He broke into my parents’ home while they were sleeping inside,” Jack said. “That’s home invasion. It isn’t low-level.”

  “I’m not saying tonight was low-level. I’m saying the past thefts were. With those, no one saw anything, and half the time we couldn’t determine if a crime even took place. But don’t worry, we take this very seriously. We’ll step up patrols.”

  Jack stuck out his hand. “I appreciate it.”

  One of the first responding cruisers pulled back onto the street and rolled up. The policeman powered down his window. “Nothing. The guy’s a ghost.”

  Jack glared into the darkness. The intruder had come after his parents.

  If he comes back, I’ll make him a real ghost.

  10

  Animal Control

  “Jack?” his mother called from the front door. “Did you call animal control?”

  Jack hurried down the hallway. Standing next to his mother wasn’t the uniformed officer he’d expected, but a man around his age, dressed in khaki from head to toe, with shoulder-length, dirty-blond hair pulled back in a ponytail.

  “Did you call about the gator?” the man said.

  “I did. I’m concerned for my folks and the other residents.” Jack peered over the man’s shoulder to study the pickup truck parked along the curb. “You’re not alone, are you?”

  Alice backed into the hallway, keeping Lady in the bedroom as she closed the door behind her.

  The man pointed toward the back of the house. “I’ve got my spotter out at the pond.” He thrust out a hand. “Name’s Boone.”

  “Jack. Are you sure you two can get it? You might need more men.”

  “Ain’t too many gators where you need more’n two guys.”

  “Well, this is one of them,” Jack said. “That thing is huge.”

  “Well, I’ll get a lasso, and Bryar an’ me’ll take a look. Meet you out back.”

  Alice made a face. “Did he say lasso?”

  “Did he say Bryar?” Jack smiled.

  As Boone walked to the truck, Laura hugged Jack. “You didn’t need to call him.”

  “What? Mom, it’s not like a family of ducks is living in your backyard. It’s an alligator that tried to attack a human.”

  “I don’t want them to hurt it.”

  “Oh, I doubt they will. Unless it tries to hurt them.”

  Jack walked outside as Boone came around the corner holding a long pole with a looped rope on the end.

  “Wait!” Alice hurried after them. “What do you do with it when you catch it? You don’t kill it, do you?”

  “Don’t worry.” Boone grinned. “I’ll take it out to Sunset Swamp Sanctuary. Out there’s a gator’s paradise. I wish I had it as good as he’s gonna have it.”

  Jack and Alice followed him to the edge of the pond. Another man in a similar outfit but seventy-five pounds heavier waited on the bank.

  “That must be Bryar,” Jack whispered.

  Bryar turned and held up a hand in warning.

  Three houses down, Ruby stepped out on her lanai and yelled, “Did you catch it?”

  Everyone jumped.

  Jack held one finger to his mouth, and Ruby waved apologetically.

  Bryar pointed at Boone and then to a section of reeds along the bank. The air was completely still and so was the pond, but the reeds moved.

  “I’m telling you,” Jack warned, “it’s big.”

  “We’ve got this.” Boone jiggled the pole and the lasso shook.

  Bryar moved to the right, and Boone headed left. Bryar squatted down near the bank. His head moved on a swivel until he focused on one spot in the reeds. He held up two fingers and pointed.

  Boone tapped his chest and crept over to the water’s edge. He held the long pole out and let the rope dangle above the water. After a tense wait, he dipped the pole down and yanked up. Water flew into the air as the alligator struggled.

  Bryar rushed into the water.

  Alice grabbed Jack’s arm. “He’s crazy.”

  “I hope they know what they’re doing.”

  Water splashed high into the air. Dark-green scales appeared as Bryar hoisted the alligator out of the water.

  “Got it!” Bryar called out.

  Boone kept the tension on the lasso, the muscles in his forearms straining as he pulled up on the pole.

  Jack and Alice moved back as Bryar walked backward onto the shore.

  Bryar turned around with a four-foot alligator wrapped in his arms.

  “It’s tiny,” Alice said.

  “That’s not the same alligator,” Jac
k protested.

  “It’s so little!” Alice grinned.

  “I’ve gotta measure it,” Boone said, “to make sure it meets state minimum requirements for being a nuisance. Chasing after you and your dog meets one requirement, but it has to be at least four feet. I’m pretty sure it is, but I’ve got to make sure. Hold on…” He pulled out a measuring tape while Bryar held the alligator against the ground.

  “I’m telling you,” Jack said, “I saw it. Last night I saw its eyes, and it was a different alligator.”

  “Maybe you just had a different perspective seeing it at night, down low in the water?” Alice’s shoulders trembled, and Jack knew she was trying not to giggle.

  “Yeah, I had a meal’s-eye view. It tried to eat me.”

  Alice laughed.

  Jack tried to recall any other detail of the alligator. “It only came partway onto the bank, but it looked huge.”

  “Four feet, one inch!” Boone called out, winding the tape measure. “Just big enough.”

  “Damn,” Jack muttered. He stared at the small alligator and rubbed the back of his neck. “It looked a lot bigger when I was in the water.”

  “We got a report a week ago that the gator was here,” Boone said.

  “A week ago? Why didn’t you come and get it then?” Jack asked.

  “Like I said, it has to meet certain state requirements. This one’s small and hadn’t bothered nobody.”

  Bryar wrapped the alligator’s mouth closed with tape. When he finished, he wiped his big hands on his large belly. “Cute little guy. And someone’s been feedin’ him. When I first spotted him, he came right over to me, looking for breakfast.”

  “It probably wanted you for breakfast,” Jack said. “It came after me last night.”

  Bryar scratched at his beard. “You ain’t got nothing to worry about with this one. I was tempted to just grab it without the lasso.” He wrapped the alligator’s lower body in a tarp.

  “Thanks for calling us.” Boone shook Jack’s hand and then followed Bryar as he carried the alligator to the truck.

 

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