"But you and I both know that sometimes bullies, drunks and thugs can't be dealt with in civil terms. Sometimes she'll have no choice but to defend herself or those she loves.
"And in those cases, you're darn right I want her to be able to kick a boy's butt. I want her to exhaust all other more peaceful means, but when she can see it's going to get violent, I want her to hit first, hit hard, and hit often. It's like that old Chinese proverb... He who hits first stands the longest."
Rita was skeptical.
"I don't believe I've ever heard such a proverb."
"Okay," he confessed. "I made it up. But you have to admit it's pretty clever, don't you think?"
Rita didn't think so.
Butch turned to Debbie, who thought it was indeed quite clever, and who decisively nodded her head in agreement.
"Oh, Butch, I'm just afraid for her. What if she starts something she can't finish?"
Butch turned to Debbie and asked her, "Honey, what did Daddy tell you about losing fights?"
"You told me that there are no guarantees that I'll win every time I have to use my fists. And that's why I should only hit someone as a last resort. And you told me that even if I don't win a fight, that I'll chase away a bully. Because bullies pick on people they don't think will fight back. And when they do, the bullies stop picking on them. They will find someone else, someone weaker, to bully."
"And what else, honey?"
"You told me that black eyes build character."
Butch panicked.
"No, not that. That was supposed to be just between us. What else did I tell you to tell your mom if she ever had any concerns with you defending yourself?"
"Oh, yeah. You said that even though I may not win every fight, I'll finish each one a little bit stronger, a little bit wiser, and with one less bully."
Rita still wasn't convinced. In principle, she agreed with Butch's attempts to raise Debbie as a strong girl, who didn't necessarily need a man to rescue her when the going got tough.
But Rita was raised in another era, with a different set of social norms.
"I'm just concerned that she'll never be able to find a boy," she explained. "When I was young, boys went out with girls who wore dresses and played with dolls. Not tomboys who climbed trees and skinned rabbits."
"Times have changed, Rita. The men who are intimidated by a strong woman aren't worth having. A real God-fearing, salt-of-the-earth man now sees a woman as an equal. And he isn't concerned if she's capable of defending herself. In fact, I want her to have a husband who's proud of her for being strong."
Debbie was just a bit confused. She had a girly side too, and cherished her time playing dolls and dress-up with her friends.
"But Mom, can't I have both? Can't I be a girl when I play with my girlfriends and still be able to defend them when one of us is bullied?"
And that, in a nutshell, summed up Debbie's outlook on life.
She'd grow up to be a caring and nurturing woman. A loving wife and mother.
But she'd also relish the role of protector when she needed to be. And any man who couldn't accept her on those terms wouldn't make it in her world.
But that was many years away.
Here, and now, she needed her mother's blessing.
Rita asked, "What happened to the boy you fought?"
Debbie smiled.
"He lost a tooth and walked funny for the rest of the day."
"No, honey. That's not what I meant. Did he also get punished? Do you think he'll learn a lesson from this?"
"I know for a fact he has, mom. He called me last night to apologize. He admitted that his mom made him call, but he really sounded like he meant he was sorry. He said his friends were making fun of him for getting beaten up by a girl."
"What did you tell him?"
"I accepted his apology. And I told him that dynamite and hand grenades both come in small packages and he should never assume a smaller person can't fight back. I also told him that real friends don't make fun of each other, and that maybe he should find some new friends who accepted him as he was. A great big jerk."
Butch stifled a laugh.
"I told him that if he'd quit picking on Roy and the other kids that Roy and I would be his friends.
"He never said yes or no to that, but he got quiet. Maybe he's thinking about it."
Rita smiled and felt a rush of pride.
"Maybe I've misjudged you, sweetheart. I think you handled a difficult situation perfectly. I hope he can change his ways and the three of you can be friends."
"Yeah, maybe. It doesn't really matter to me one way or the other. But I'll be his friend if he behaves himself."
She changed the subject.
"Samantha called. She said the whole school is talking about it. She said I have street cred now."
Her mother asked, "What on earth is street cred?"
"Gosh, Mom, I don't know. I was goin’ to ask you guys."
Debbie and Rita both looked at Butch.
He smiled.
"It means respect. Street credentials mean that you've earned your right to walk the streets. You've proved yourself. You're not someone to be messed with."
Rita said, "Oh, my. I'm not sure I want my daughter to have such a reputation."
Debbie summed it up a different way: "Cool!"
Please enjoy this preview of
RANGER Book 1:
A Humble Beginning
While they waited the two talked of Ranger Mike Waylor, the man who’d been frightened away from Lubbock by Henry Jenkins’ ghost.
“The major told me you were going to spend the night in the office and check it out for yourself,” Tom asked. “Is that true, or was he just pulling my leg?”
“I don’t believe I told him I would. I believe I told him I might. It’s a curious tale, and I’m a curious sort by nature. I’d like to see if there’s anything to the story.”
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
“Well, I don’t rightly know, Tom. Not really. But I don’t really disbelieve them either.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Randy winced just a bit.
“Sorry. What does that mean?”
“Well, I believe there are a lot of things out there that we just don’t know much about. One theory is as good as the next one, I suppose. At least until it’s proven to be false. As for what happens after death, it’s kinda hard to prove one way or another.”
“Do you believe in God, Randy?”
“Certainly.”
“Don’t you think that by believing in God, then believing in ghosts at the same time is blasphemy?”
“Not at all. The Bible says that the faithful will die and walk the golden streets of heaven for all eternity. And that sinners will go to a place of eternal damnation. But it doesn’t say when. It doesn’t say immediately after death. It also makes mention of purgatory, or a type of way station. Maybe those who are not righteous enough to be admitted to heaven right away spend time in purgatory while awaiting their eternal fate. Maybe the ghosts we sometimes see on earth are merely residents of purgatory who are awaiting a decision on where their souls will spend eternity.”
“Hey, they’re on the move.”
“Yep.”
Randy turned the Ford’s ignition key and the engine sprang to life.
Their suspects turned right coming out of the parking lot and headed away from them. Randy pulled away from the library and proceeded in the same direction, but at a slower pace.
The Rangers had a tail policy which differed from most law enforcement agencies.
Most agencies had several units involved in a tail. They were able to break off frequently, handing control over to a different vehicle. That car would tail the suspect for a short time, then break off and hand off to a third car. Sometimes there were up to five cars involved, all working closely by radio in a carefully orchestrated process. The end result, when done properly, was to tail the suspect without him suspecting it.
/>
The Texas Rangers used a different strategy. It was borne of necessity, for they simply didn’t have enough agents in the field to perform such a maneuver.
But they did generally work in pairs when on a case.
The Rangers’ strategy was simple. One suspect vehicle, one Ranger vehicle. But the follow vehicle stayed back until the suspect vehicle was almost out of sight, then used a spotter to keep him in view.
Since Randy was at the wheel, Tom by default became the spotter. He took the binoculars and focused in on the Chevy, now over half a mile in front of them.
“Okay, I’ve got good visual. You can back off a little bit more.”
In the rear view mirror of the suspect’s truck, Randy and Tom were but a speck in the background, blending in with a myriad of other specks. Each time the suspects turned, Tom made note of a landmark at that particular intersection.
“Turn right at the yellow billboard,” he might say. Or, “Turn left at the 7-Eleven.”
By giving the driver his marching orders as they went, Tom could keep his eyes on the prize instead of looking around for street signs.
Another aspect of the Rangers’ tail policy was for the driver to stay in contact with local authorities by radio, generally on a secure tactical channel, to keep the locals advised of their tail.
Randy and Tom chose not to do that in this case, since local law enforcement was expected to be part of the problem.
That being the case, there would be no local backup should Randy and Tom run into trouble. The local cops didn’t even know they were there. They were on their own, in every sense of the word, and they knew it.
So they needed to be careful.
The suspects left State Highway 87 and turned onto Farm to Market Road 1348.
Here’s where it got a little trickier.
Farm to Market roads were seldom traveled, except by the farmers and ranchers who lived or worked down that road. Any vehicle at all which traveled down the road would be looked at with suspicion. A strange vehicle nobody could identify would be even more suspect.
Tom gave Randy his updated instructions.
“Fall back more. Traffic is thinning out. Slow down and turn at the third telephone pole on the right.”
Then the Rangers got lucky.
As Tom watched through the binoculars, their suspects turned onto FM 1348, then took a hard left after a quarter mile onto a private road.
Tom had no idea where he was. But he knew the suspects were on a private road because their truck was kicking up a cloud of dust.
They were driving up the long caliche driveway of a rural ranch house.
“Scratch that,” Tom said. “They’re home. Forget the right turn. Go up a few miles and turn around. We’ll go back to Lubbock and spend some time on SLEN.”
As they continued on Highway 87, a quarter mile away from and adjacent to the ranch house, Tom continued to watch the pickup. He saw it come to a stop and four men exiting. They walked in the direction of the house and were climbing its steps when Tom lost visual.
Seven minutes later, after they turned around and headed south toward Lubbock, he noted that the pickup was still in the yard but the men were nowhere in sight.
Their prey had gone home to roost.
RANGER Book 1:
A Humble Beginning
Will be available in February, 2016 at Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble Booksellers, selected Hastings stores and other fine booksellers.
A Long Road Back: Final Dawn: Book 8 Page 19