Fiction Friday

SUNDOWN IN ZION

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Previously, our hero, during his morning exercises, had met a damaged veteran living on the banks of the Arkansas River. Today, both lives will change.

            Nelson stepped on his porch early next morning and then dashed back inside to cover his upper body with a hooded sweatshirt. The never-ending winter had returned with lower temperatures and a frigid wind blowing in from the southwest. With an old pair of white socks serving as gloves, he headed into the chill for his morning run. Few cars were on the street and no other pedestrians. It was as if the world had ended during the night and he was one of the few survivors.

            Reaching the Clinton Library Park, he stopped to do his morning exercises. Today, there was no sign of his new acquaintance Charlie. When he finished, he walked to the area where Charlie camped but there was no trace of him their as well. Nelson then proceeded west and climbed the steps leading to the level at which he could enter the pedestrian bridge connecting the two cities. That’s when he saw Charlie.

            The man was leaning against the railing at the entrance to the bridge. He was wearing a tattered undershirt and his arms were clasped around his chest to imprison any last bit of warmth. When he looked up to see Nelson, there was a trickle of blood flowing from his nose. One eye was swollen.

            “Charlie,” Nelson said as he ran toward him, “what’s happened?”

            The other said nothing. He only shook his head in bewilderment.

            “Where is your jacket?”

            Charlie took a breath and nodded behind him. “They took it,” he said, referring to two men some 20 yards or so beyond them. They were the only others in sight, so Nelson rain toward them, removing his ‘sock-gloves’ and casting them aside.

            “They have a pistol,” Charlie said, his voice so weak that it barely reached Nelson, who continued running.

            Nearing the pair, Nelson shouted, “Hey you. Stop.”

            The two spun around in unison and glared at Nelson. Both were large men but one was shorter than the other and had a dark, weasel-like face with black eyes that darted like gnats in the morning light. The other bore a blank expression as if he couldn’t imagine that there was another person on the planet. He carried Charlie’s jacket. Both stood still.

            “What you want, motherfucker?” the smaller one said. The larger man moved a few inches toward Nelson.

            “I want my friend’s jacket back.”

            The two stared at Nelson as though they didn’t understand the language he was speaking. The smaller man took a step toward him and his partner followed. They now stood less than three feet from him. “Fuck you,” the smaller man said. "You can buy it back for him at the pawn shop." He nodded over his shoulder toward North Little Rock, and his right hand began moving toward the inside of his coat.

            Nelson’s left foot shifted and his right hand moved simultaneously. They made no preliminary motion. He neither cocked his hand nor shifted his weight. Two blurs simply moved as he closed the distance and his hand knife-edged into the elbow of the arm that was reaching inside the coat. A loud shriek pierced the air as the arm shattered. Nelson continued his turn and faced the second man who now stared with widening eyes.

            “Motherfucker,” the injured man shouted. “You broke my goddam arm.” It hung beside him as he grasped the elbow with his other hand.

            Nelson had started the process of delivering a blow to the second man but stopped his fist in mid-air. He looked the man in the eyes and said in an even voice, “Whatever you are thinking about doing, I would strongly suggest that you don’t.”

            “Kill the motherfucker,” the injured man shouted.

            “Your choice,” Nelson said.

            The man’s eyes darted from Nelson’s hand to this wounded partner who was moaning in pain. He relaxed his tense pose and calmly extended Charlie’s jacket toward Nelson.

            “Just drop it,” Nelson said. The other did. “Now,” Nelson said. “I want you to do something for me and if you don’t do it, or if you make any wrong move, I will throw stupid ass over that railing.” He stood still. “Do you understand me?”

            The man looked over the railing. They were well out over the Arkansas River and high above it. He nodded.

            “Einstein here has something under his jacket that he was reaching for. You know what it is, don’t you?”

            The man nodded. His partner was now stomping his feet in pain.

            “Reach over with your left hand and ease it out. Hold it with two fingers … and gently.” he motioned toward the river, “Let me have it. Understand?”

            The man nodded. “You,” Nelson said to the other man. “Stand still or I’ll break your other arm and then both legs. Got it?”

            The man didn’t answer but stood still while his partner reached over and removed an ancient snub-nosed pistol from his belt. With two fingers, he held it out toward Nelson.

            “Lay it down in front of you,” Nelson said as he raised his hand in position for another blow. The man looked toward his partner who seemed to be on the verge of fainting and who nodded.

            When the gun was on the concrete bed of the bridge, Nelson motioned for the two to step back. They did and he picked up the pistol, still poised for immediate response should either make a move. “Now here is what is going to happen,” he said to the two. “You are going to remove, very slowly remove, your coats and lay them in front of you. When they didn’t move quickly, he said in a firm voice, “Now.”

            They complied and Nelson then had them remove their shirts. The larger man had to help his friend who was still moaning. Exposed, the elbow now was a sickening color and swelling visibly. Finished, the two stood shivering in the morning cold. Nelson motioned for them to mover farther back.

            “Know why this is your lucky day?” he said. When they didn’t answer, he said, “It’s your lucky day because I was going to make you sorry bastards strip to your skivvies but I had this attack of pity. Understand?”

            “You mother …,” the smaller man began but in an almost imperceptible move, Nelson moved in and backhanded him hard across the face. The man’s hand moved from his broken arm to hold a nose now broken as well.

            “And,” Nelson said, “if I see ever see your rotten asses on this side of the river again …” He stopped and thought. Then he said, “Or on the other side either, “I may get mad. Understand?”

            They nodded in dumb defeat. “Now get,” Nelson said, motioning them toward the other side of the river. The two walked away quickly, the larger man helping the other. Nelson gathered their jackets and rifled the pockets. He found a few coins, two joints of pot, the remains of a pack of Marlboros, and a handful of bullets that fit the pistol. Keeping an eye on the receding figures, he moved to the side of the bridge and threw everything save Charlie’s jacket, the cigarettes, and the coins into the river. Then he walked back to his fellow veteran.

            Charlie had watched the proceedings from where he stood. Shivering, he took his jacket and put in on quickly. “Thanks,” he said. “But you could have been killed.” He looked down. “I’m not sure that I am worth that.”

            “I have a feeling you are,” Nelson said. “How did that all come about, anyway? Didn’t you learn anything in Iraq?”

            “I was thinking about that bitch wife of mine when they jumped from behind a bush and he pointed that pistol in my face. They demanded my jacket and when I didn’t move fast enough, the dumb one slugged me.” He stopped talking and, after a pause, resumed in a soft voice. “Then I went into a seizure and they hit me some more. Then …”

            “That’s enough,” Nelson said. “I get the picture.” He handed Charlie the cigarettes.

            “Thanks, but no thanks,” Charlie said. “I just now quit.”

            Nelson smiled. “Good for you,” he said. “Now,” he took a breath, “what are we going to do with you?”

            “I’ll go back to my camp and rest,” Charlie said. “Then I’ll walk to the VA. I’ll be okay in a day or so. I don’t think those two will be coming back.” He turned to leave.

            “Bullshit,” Nelson said, grabbing his arm. “You’re coming home with me.”

            Charlie knitted his brow as if Nelson had just admitted being an alien. “What?”

            “You are coming to my house until we can get you back on your feet. I have more room than one person needs and you are welcome.”

            “But you don’t know anything about me,” Charlie said.

            Nelson shook his head. “I know that you are a brother vet and that is enough.” He looked at Charlie. “Besides, I have a project I’m working on that you could help me with.”

            “A project?”

            “Yes,” he said, “in Connorville. Didn’t you tell me that you have a friend there?

            Charlie thought. “Oh yeah. He has one of those schools where you can get a ‘concealed carry’ permit.” He thought for second. “I don’t think our two friends back there had one.”

            “I doubt it,” Nelson said. “That settles it then. Come on.”

            “But what if I’m a thief and I steal your stuff?”

            Nelson said, “I learned years ago to own nothing that you wouldn’t mind losing.”

            “What if I’m a child molester?”

            “Then I’ll whip your ass and kick you out.”

            Charlie thought for a moment, nodded, attempted a smile, and said, “That sounds fair enough.”

            Nelson said, “Do you need anything from your camp?”

            “Are you kidding?” He reached into a pocket of his pants and drew out two items. “Got my driver’s license and VA card. They’ve got copies of my DD-214. What else could I need?” He rubbed his face where he had been hit, then stopped as if remembering something. “You got anything to eat at your house?”

            “Come on,” Nelson said, and the two walked home together.