Equal Access

by A. E. Branson

  Maybe it was Dad’s armadillo.

  Dulsie wasn’t going to take the chance of some unidentified varmint getting into the turkeys and wreaking havoc. She slipped out of bed and opened the nightstand drawer to grab a small headlamp and snap the elastic band around her head. Then Dulsie reached under the bed and pulled out a footstool that she carried to the bedroom door and set in front of it.

  Dulsie stepped up on the footstool to grab the .223 rifle perched on forked sticks nailed over the door.

  If Shad, who was a light sleeper so he would also get up, were here, he would pull on some pants and hold a flashlight for her so Dulsie would have complete freedom to shoot any treacherous predator. The headlamp would help if Dulsie needed light, but it would limit her range of sight. At least the skies were clear tonight and there was half a moon out, and her eyes were already accustomed to the dark. Dulsie hoped to locate whatever was agitating Sadie without having to depend too much on the headlamp.

  She pushed the stool aside with her right foot and got a box of ammunition from a drawer in the nearby dresser. Dulsie loaded three cartridges into the rifle. It was a number she could load quickly and Dulsie knew from experience it was all she needed: one to drop her target; one to be sure it was dead; and one as back-up.

  Dulsie stepped through the bedroom door and padded quickly through the living room and kitchen. At the back door she slipped on the flip-flop shoes she kept there, and then quietly opened it. When she stepped out on the tiny porch, Dulsie could see Sadie standing to the back and side of the house, between it and the turkey pen. The dog’s white coat dimly glowed in the faint moonlight, and she was staring directly toward their driveway, which was at the front corner opposite Dulsie’s location and therefore beyond her sight. Sadie glanced toward Dulsie, and then barked a couple more times toward the road.

  Dulsie started to step off the short stoop to see if she could spot anything without using a light. No sooner did both her feet hit the grassy ground than Sadie erupted into a vicious snarl and charged forward.

  A loud shot cracked to Dulsie’s right, and from the corner of her eye she spied a flashpoint beyond the corner of the house and near the road. Dulsie spun toward the disturbance and felt herself squeezing the rifle trigger even as she heard Sadie yelp in a pitiful wail.

  Another shot echoed in her ears, but Dulsie couldn’t remember seeing anything because at the same instant a horrific explosion of pain shot from her left shoulder. Dulsie staggered against the stoop. The excruciation seemed to course through every fiber of her body. Her right hand was still grasping the rifle but Dulsie’s left arm was dangling almost uselessly at her side.

  In her agony and confusion, one reality shot to the surface of her mind: She needed to protect the baby. Dulsie had to get herself under cover to keep her unborn child safe.

  She lunged over the stoop and toward the door. Dulsie had to drop the rifle so she could turn the knob with her right hand because her left arm wasn’t working right. So she kicked the gun into the house with her and slammed the door. Dulsie engaged the deadbolt, grabbed the rifle, and staggered through the kitchen. That was when she realized her gait was probably affected by the fact Dulsie was becoming light headed.

  She stumbled through the living room and into the bedroom. Dulsie slammed the door shut by throwing herself against it, and dropping the rifle again, turned the lock on the knob.

  She dropped to her knees beside the bed. Was she safe yet? Dulsie looked up, and in the dark bedroom determined that the air conditioner was blocking the window on the wall at the foot of the bed. If she stayed low beside the bed, Dulsie would be blocked from the window on the other side of the room.

  She felt soaked and was trembling. Dulsie could feel her head growing even lighter, and the waves of pain were causing her to feel queasy.

  Dear God, she couldn’t pass out and choke on her own vomit. She needed help.

  Luckily her side of the bed was closer to the door, so Dulsie could easily snatch her cell phone from the nightstand. As she pressed against the mattress and wedged her throbbing shoulder into the space between the bed and the nightstand, Dulsie realized the wetness covering her was too thick to be sweat.

  Call the sheriff.

  No. There was no telling how long it would take for the nearest deputy to drive out here to the house.

  Call her parents.

  No. Mom and Dad lived nearly twenty minutes away.

  Call Pax. Yes, Uncle Pax and Aunt Maddie lived only ten minutes away. Surely that time was short enough.

  Dulsie opened her phone and was grateful to have their number on speed dial and she could actually remember what it was. The room seemed to be swimming around her, and Dulsie’s light headedness and nausea were increasing.

  She held the phone to her ear and the electronic ring Dulsie heard only seemed to increase her urgency to hear Uncle Pax’s voice.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Therefore was the first man, Adam, created alone, to teach us that whoever destroys a single life, the Bible considers it as if he destroyed an entire world. And whoever saves a single life, the Bible considers it as if he saved an entire world.

  --Mishnah

  The clanging jangle of the cradle phone on their bedroom nightstand made Paxton awake with a start. As he grabbed for the receiver without sitting up, Paxton glanced at the alarm clock and saw that it was nearly one-thirty.

  A phone call in the middle of the night couldn’t be good. Trepidation already began fluttering in his stomach as Paxton pressed the receiver to his ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Uncle Pax!” The gasping voice on the other end of the line was panicked and breathless. “Call the sheriff! Get over here! Somebody’s here with a gun! I’ve been shot!”

  Paxton sat bolt upright. “Dulsie?”

  “Please be careful! He’s got a gun! Get the sheriff over here, but I need you!” Her voice seemed weaker.

  “I’m coming right over!” Paxton scrambled out of the bed and grabbed at his jeans and light brown shirt hanging at the foot of it while the cord of the phone pulled taut. “Where are you exactly?”

  “Be careful! Please be careful....”

  “What is it?” Maddie was wide awake and already swinging one leg to the floor.

  “Where are you?” Paxton didn’t like the way Dulsie’s voice had trailed off. “Can you hear me? Dulsie, where are you? Dulsie!” Paxton yelled into the phone as he began pulling on his jeans with his free hand.

  “What’s happening?” Maddie asked urgently as she finished getting out of bed.

  “Dulsie!”

  When silence remained his only response, Paxton slammed the receiver into its cradle.

  “Call the sheriff!” He gasped to Maddie. “Dulsie said there’s an intruder at the house with a gun. She’s been shot.”

  “My God!” Maddie scrambled across the bed to grab for the phone.

  Paxton shrugged on his shirt but didn’t button it as he strode toward the bedroom door. “And tell the sheriff not to shoot me when he gets there!”

  “You can’t go by yourself!” Maddie froze in the midst of dialing as she looked at him.

  “I have to!” Paxton grabbed the rifle hanging above the door.

  “Let me call the sheriff and then I’ll –”

  “NO!” Paxton thundered. “I need you to stay here!” He darted out the bedroom, through the hall, and down the stairs without looking back.

  As he entered the kitchen and yanked open a cabinet drawer to grab a box of ammunition, Paxton noticed a slight trembling in his hands. He assumed it was caused by the terror that flashed through him from the thought Maddie could get hurt – or worse – if she came along. But Dulsie was already hurt. Paxton had to pull himself together for her.

  Where was Shad?

  Paxton disregarded a few gun safety rules by going ahead and loading the rifle before pulling on his boots and running out to the pickup.

  By disregarding a few traffic laws he made it to
Shad’s and Dulsie’s house in a very long five minutes.

  He saw only their Buick at the house as Paxton slowed the truck to pull into the driveway. He also saw something white lying off to the other side of the house. Paxton squinted at it as he drove past. The house was completely dark.

  Paxton could feel his heart pounding in his chest and hear the blood roaring in his ears as he braked the pickup to a stop. He turned off the engine and took out the keys but left the headlights on, and tightly gripped the rifle as he stepped out of the truck.

  So far, so good. Paxton wasn’t shot at yet.

  The headlights illuminated the front of the house and their car parked to the side. As Paxton stalked to the porch, fiercely trying to hear above his own heartbeat, he noticed he couldn’t see their pickup.

  Dulsie hadn’t mentioned Shad. Where was Shad?

  Paxton sidled up the steps of the porch and cautiously slinked to the far end of it to peek around the corner and see the other side of the house.

  The white mound was still there. It looked suspiciously like their dog. It looked suspiciously like the dog was dead.

  A chill crept through his bones.

  Paxton scrambled to the other end of the porch and peeked around that corner as well. This side was lit up by the headlights, and he still saw nobody skulking around.

  Paxton strode to their front door, and the storm door readily opened. The entry door was locked.

  He fished out the keys he had dropped in his pocket and found the spare that Shad had given him to this door. Paxton unlocked it and stepped into a dark room.

  He immediately turned on the light. Paxton wasn’t about to make himself into a lovely backlit target for some lowlife that might be hiding in the corner. There was no intruder lurking about, but what Paxton did see made him gasp in horror.

  Smudges and drops of blood stained the floor from the kitchen through the living room, and ended at the closed bedroom door.

  Paxton strode toward it, and as his heart managed to beat even harder he called out.

  “Dulsie?”

  She didn’t respond. Nobody shot him.

  Paxton grasped the doorknob. It was locked.

  Still grasping the rifle in one hand, Paxton took a couple of steps back into the short hallway. He lunged forward and kicked the door with all his strength just below the knob.

  The door jamb splintered, and with a second kick Paxton stumbled into the room.

  Dulsie was right in front of him. She was collapsed on the floor, next to the bed, a varmint rifle in front of her and the cell phone near her limp hand. Most of her torso was covered in blood, and blood stained the bed and floor around her.

  “Dulsie!”

  Paxton never liked hospitals. He became less fond of them during the time he actually had to stay in one to get his tumor removed. They were dreary and somber in spite of trying to decorate themselves in cheerful colors. And at three o’clock in the morning hospitals were even worse.

  He, Maddie, Jill and Karl were the only ones in the waiting room. Dulsie was still in surgery, and all they knew at this point, besides the fact Dulsie was still alive, was the surgical team was making sure they removed all the fragments of the bullet.

  Nobody felt like sitting. All of them were roaming around the room and keeping a lookout for a nurse who might have some news for them. Paxton knew that Maddie was as particularly agitated as he was.

  Where was Shad?

  Paxton was wearing a different pair of jeans and a dark blue shirt. His other clothes became bloodied when he held Dulsie in his arms and tried to stop the bleeding. Luckily the ambulance arrived on the heels of the deputy, and Dulsie was quickly transported to the hospital.

  Paxton answered what questions he could, then hurried home to inform Maddie and change clothes. Maddie had already called Jill and Karl, and when she discovered Shad was missing, she called his cell phone. But her call went directly to voice mail.

  Paxton and Maddie had arrived at the hospital shortly after Jill and Karl.

  They both wanted to hear everything Paxton knew, and the more Paxton told his story, the more frustrated he became at knowing so little. When he informed them that Shad was missing, Karl looked stunned and Jill looked, well, angry.

  The nurses were remaining scarce, and once the family members ran out of questions that still didn’t have any answers, nobody seemed very inclined to talk for a while.

  Karl was the first to finally break the silence. “I’ve just realized I haven’t thanked you yet, Pax.”

  Paxton shrugged. “We’ve all got a lot going on.”

  “But I really appreciate what you did. If it hadn’t been for you....” Karl seemed to become at a loss for words, which wasn’t usually like him.

  “Yes.” Jill spoke almost absent-mindedly while she gazed down the hallway from the entrance of the waiting room. “Thank you.”

  Karl’s tone took on a slight growl. “And thank God we live in a country where not only the outlaws get to have guns.”

  Jill glanced over at her husband. “We don’t know if Dulsie ever actually fired that rifle.”

  “There were only two shots loaded in it.” Karl had also had a little talk with the deputy. “Dulsie always put in three. One way or another the scumbag found out she had a gun, too. You know the reason he left was because he didn’t want a showdown with Deadeye Dulsie.”

  “Maybe she didn’t have time to load her usual three.” Jill sounded contemplative. “Maybe the scumbag left because he already knew what a good shot she is and he realized she’d gotten that rifle.”

  Jill’s comment caused a chill in Paxton’s blood, and he glanced at Maddie to see if she also determined there was an accusatory insinuation in Jill’s words. The grimace that flashed across her face confirmed Paxton’s concern.

  “We don’t know if the gunman was an actual prowler or some drunk out hunting for snipe or just another doper who got lost on his way to the meth lab.” Paxton tried to divert Jill’s ruminating. “Maybe he just got spooked by the dog and Dulsie, and started shooting.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why Shad isn’t around.” Once again Jill proved her tenacity for speaking her mind.

  Karl shot a warning glance at her.

  “You know how he travels sometimes.” Maddie’s voice was unusually stiff. “He could be out late or even for the night.”

  “Then why would his cell phone be turned off?” Jill mused.

  “Maybe he forgot to charge the battery,” Karl almost growled as he looked at Jill.

  Paxton wanted to defuse the situation as quickly as possible. “There’s no use for speculation right now. We all need to stick together for Dulsie when she comes out of surgery and wakes up.”

  “All of us but Shad, of course. He isn’t even here.”

  “Jill.” Karl’s voice had a serious tone that Paxton hardly ever heard. “Put a cork in it.”

  Jill finally diverted her attention from the hallway, and her eyes flashed as she turned toward Karl. “Don’t tell me you’d stand up for that man before you’d stand up for your own daughter!”

  “I won’t stand here and let you start throwing accusations around. And that’s exactly what Dulsie would want me to do!”

  “Maybe before tonight,” Jill replied authoritatively. “She may have a completely different story when she wakes up.”

  “This is ludicrous.” Maddie’s eyes were smoldering but her demeanor remained calm. “You know Shad had nothing to do with this.”

  “I know Shad always keeps his history hidden, and now he himself seems to be in hiding.” Jill glared at Maddie.

  “Dulsie is the world to him.” Maddie returned the expression. “Even you have to admit to that. He’d sooner cut off his own hand than ever do a thing to hurt her.”

  “He’s also emotionally repressed and socially challenged, and under the right – or wrong – conditions, Shad could react to an event in a way that reveals how unbalanced he really is.”

  “H
old on there.” Paxton shook his head. “This is Shad you’re talking about. This is the most submissive kid I’ve ever seen. I spent years trying to get him to finally be assertive.”

  “Congratulations.” Jill murmured. “You succeeded.”

  As soon as those words were out of Jill’s mouth Paxton shot his attention to Maddie because he knew he might have to intervene.

  “Don’t you talk to him like that.” Maddie growled. “If you need share your petty spite somewhere, you bring it to me.”

  “Petty?” Jill turned toward Maddie with a renewed flash in her eyes. “My daughter is lying in there on an operating table, and you think that’s petty?”

  “She’s my daughter too.” Karl stepped between the two women as he faced off with Jill. “At least we know where Dulsie is. Did it ever occur to you that Shad might be gone –” He glanced quickly between Paxton and Maddie, and his voice dropped. “– because something happened to him?”

  Jill seemed to scrutinize Karl, and then the agitation faded from her expression. She glanced from Paxton to Maddie with just a hint of chagrin before Jill turned back toward the doorway.

  “We’ll see,” she murmured.

  The next half hour or so passed in relative quiet, and then a young man in surgical uniform stepped into the waiting room. Paxton wondered how many hours had passed since the doctor had graduated from med school.

  Karl and Jill immediately met him at the doorway, and Paxton and Maddie stood closely behind them.

  “Are you all here for Dulsie Delaney?” The doctor regarded them through the top part of the lenses in his wire rim glasses.

  “Yes.” Jill nodded. “What’s the news?”

  “They’re preparing to take her to recovery.” He glanced at the clipboard of papers in his hand. “All the bullet fragments have been removed, and we didn’t find any sign of chest penetration. That’s the good news.” He glanced over the group. “Upon impact, though, it shattered her upper humerus, and the fragments shredded her rotator. We patched it up the best we could, but she may need subsequent surgery. Physical therapy will help her regain some use of her shoulder, but she’ll never have the same range of motion again.”