Chapter 16

John watched the sunset while sipping a cup of Greek coffee. He was reflecting upon his current situation. For the most part, he was satisfied with how his life was working out. He really appreciated the break from the constant heroism that he had experienced in Austin. He had gained some of his weight back. His skin tone was much better. He was still a scarred mess and would be for life, but he hadn’t gotten any new scars.

He was standing on the back porch of the house he had rented for three months. The house had been rented unfurnished and, for the most part, remained that way. He had picked up a desk with a chair and that was in the living room. On the desk were his laptop and a printer. Around the desk were stacks of papers. He slept on the floor in his sleeping bag and used his camping cook set for preparing meals. He lived like a monk, but enjoyed every minute of it.

The house was located in a very small town in Arizona where the crime rate was low. The worst that happened in town was the occasional bar brawl. While a brawl might result in black eyes or broken bones, they didn’t result in deaths. Otherwise, the location was peaceful. Most surprising was that no one had even come by to interrupt him. He had expected the normal nosiness of a small town. Of course, for all he knew they knew everything about him already.

A high point of his stay was a nice conversation with Betsy who appreciated the fact that he was living in a much quieter area. She was still upset, but now was cooling off to where they could discuss things. She had told him that she was going overseas as part of a volunteer program that would operate in a refugee camp. It was something that she did every other year and found considerable satisfaction in it. He worried about her traveling to such a dangerous location, but accepted it as something that she needed to do for herself.

His dissertation was now half written and would be finished in another month or so. He figured that he would write a first draft and then not read it for a week. Then he would revise it for a second draft. Depending on the quality, he would go through third and fourth drafts before sending it to his professor for review.

He had only been here two weeks, but he had worked the entire time without a break. He hadn’t even taken the time to get to know the neighbors. His only interaction with people had been at the real estate office when he signed the lease and the grocery store when he had stocked up on food sufficient for one month. Tonight he was going to walk into town and meet some of the locals.

The sun finally set and he finished the coffee. Returning into the house, he rinsed the cup and set it aside to dry. He grabbed his walking stick and headed out of the house. At the end of the walkway, he heard the distinctive sound of a rattlesnake. He located it under a small bush next to the walkway. With a deft swipe of his walking stick, he lifted the snake and threw it into the street. It slithered away into the darkness. He gave it no further thought.

He examined the houses around his place as he slowly strolled towards the center of town. The majority of houses had curtains illuminated by lights from inside. A few were dark. None of the houses had grass lawns. The majority had sand yards that were plain with the exception of a cactus or two. Some yards had religious statues arranged in little shrine-like areas; statues of the Virgin Mary and Jesus were common. Houses were either painted white or beige. It was a mixed neighborhood of Hispanics and Whites.

He entered the town square that represented the town center. On one side of the square was a squat building the served as the local police station and town hall. Two police cars were parked in front of it. The rest of the square was filled with small stores such as the hardware store, a feed store, a shoe store, two clothing stores, and a bank. There was also a restaurant with a handmade sign advertising homemade pies. A couple of stores down the street was a bar. Not feeling particularly hungry, he decided to try out the bar to get a coke.

The inside of the bar lived up to his expectations of a country bar. There was a juke box playing country / western music. In the back was a coin operated pool table. Around the pool table, a couple of men were gathered. One was drinking a beer and twirling a pool cue. Another was walking about the table looking at the placement of the balls. He carried the pool cue with practiced casualness. Another was sitting on a stool smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. All were wearing blue jeans, boots, and western style shirts. Large belt buckles were the rule rather than the exception. A woman wearing the tightest pair of jeans that John had ever seen sauntered up to the pool table and started a conversation with the men gathered there.

Along the side was the bar with tables set in a casual manner in front of it. About a third of the tables were taken. No one was sitting at the bar. Behind the bar, a rather bored looking woman was washing some beer mugs. John decided that he stood a better chance of getting a little conversation if he sat at the bar.

Just after seating himself, a strong callused hand came down on his shoulder. John turned and looked at the individual standing next to him. He was a rather large man in his late twenties or early thirties. His skin was tanned dark from many hours of working in the sun. He wore the blue jeans, boots, work shirt, and huge belt buckle that were the norm in this area of the country.

The man spoke, saying, “Howdy, neighbor!”

John replied, “Hello.”

“You moved in across the street from my place.”

“Oh. Let me introduce myself. I’m John Carter,” John said as he extended his hand.

The big man grabbed the hand and replied, “I’m Ed Biggers.”

“Nice to meet you Ed.”

“Nice to finally meet you. Let me buy you a drink.” The big man offered the drink in a fashion that seemed to be more of a challenge than a friendly gesture.

“That would be very nice of you. I’ll have a coke.”

“Coke? What are you? Are you some kind of wimp?”

“No. I just don’t drink alcohol,” John replied in a stern manner. He wondered if things were going to get out of hand. Normally he stopped crises, not created them.

Ed Biggers had a tendency to be a bully. Actually, it wasn’t a tendency; he was a bully and had been his entire life. He felt a rush as he realized that he had a new victim in town to mock and make life miserable.

He shouted out to the bar, “Hey, folks. We got us a wimp. He doesn’t drink like a real man. He doesn’t even drink a woman’s drink. He actually wants a coke without the rum!”

The majority of people in the bar burst out laughing at the announcement. A few of the older folks looked away in disgust. It wasn’t clear if they disapproved of Ed Biggers or John. John just watched Ed with dispassionate interest. Ed turned to the woman behind the bar and said, “Hey, Shirley, set us up with a couple of whiskeys with beer chasers.”

John interjected, “Don’t forget my coke. Plain with no rum.”

Shirley looked at both men with a bad feeling in her stomach. She had a very good idea what was going to happen next. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop it, but felt she had to try. She set a whiskey with a beer in front of Ed and a plain coke in front of John.

Ed looked at Shirley and said, “I said a couple. I’m buying the wimp here a man’s drink.”

Shirley shot back, “Ed, don’t do this.”

Ed repeated himself, “I said a couple. Now hop to it little lady before I lose my temper.”

She relented and set the drinks in front of John. John picked up the shot glass with the whiskey in it. He sniffed it, nodded, and then set it down. He knew there was no way out of this situation except violence.

John calmly said, “I heard that some men drink in the hope that it will make their pecker bigger. I don’t know if that’s your reason for drinking. Since I’m already hung like a horse, I don’t drink, in the hope that it will shrink down to the size a woman can handle.”

John noticed a number of people edging out of the bar. The few that remained were laughing. Shirley edged over to the telephone to call the police. Ed was turning purple. John picked up his coke and took a sip. He decided that if he was going to get in a fight, he might as well satisfy his thirst first.

Ed was getting angrier by the moment. Finally, he pulled his right fist back to throw a punch. John beat Ed to the draw by grabbing his balls and squeezing with all of his strength. Ed doubled over in pain while John set his glass of coke down.

He calmly asked, “Shirley, how much is the drink?”

She looked in delighted glee at the situation in which Ed found himself. Too many nice guys had suffered at the hands of Ed Biggers. She laughed and said, “It’s on the house.”

“Thanks,” replied John as he winked at her. He added, “Have a nice evening.”

Shirley smiled at him, “I’m having the best evening in a long time already. You take care of yourself.”

John let go of Ed’s balls and picked up his walking stick. Ed remained bent over and breathing hard. John walked to the door and turned back. He called out, “Have a nice night, everyone. Even you, Ed.”

John returned home and went to bed. He was disappointed that his first night in town had probably created an enemy. He had no doubts that Ed would try to get even at some point. He decided that he would just be careful and worry about that when the occasion arose. Tomorrow he would return to work on his dissertation.

The next morning he was taking a shower when he heard terrified screams coming from outside. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around himself as he raced out of the house. In the front yard of the house next door, a kid was screaming in sheer terror. John raced around to the yard and stopped when he saw the problem. Others came running up and stopped when they saw the problem. The boy was surrounded by rattlesnakes. There were more rattlesnakes gathered in the yard than anyone could ever recollect seeing in one place. How he had walked into the patch of snakes sunning themselves without being bitten was a mystery. Luckily, he was standing still now. Unfortunately, the snakes had become riled.

No one moved. Cursing the fact that he had forgotten his walking stick, John took a deep breath and walked into the midst of the snakes. As he walked, an occasional snake would strike. He continued to walk without hesitation to the little boy. When the snake nearest the little boy struck John, he used that moment to pick up the little boy. Once the boy was clear of the snakes, he put him on his shoulders. Calmly, he walked out of the area suffering only a couple of more snake strikes. He hadn’t noticed the shots, but six of the snakes along the path were dead. He set the boy down next to a woman who appeared to be his mother.

The crowd of people was staring at John. It wasn’t clear if they were staring at him for what he had just done or because of all the scars. The towel did little to cover his scars. One man finally broke the silence.

“He just walked into there, picked the kid up, and walked back out like it was nothing. Damn.”

A woman said, “He must have been bit two dozen times.”

John turned to the Hispanic woman and asked, “Could you please call the hospital and ask them to have some anti-venom available for me? Gracias.”

John turned to the crowd and spotted Ed Biggers. He decided that it was time for him and Ed to either become friends or settle it once and for all. He turned to Ed and said, “Ed, would you please drive me to the hospital?”

Ed was stunned. He had never seen anything that brave in his entire life. He had been a ground pounder in the army and had never seen anyone with the array of scars this guy sported. He was shocked that the guy he had tried to fight the night before was putting his life in his hands. He replied, “Sure, I’ll get my truck.”

Ed raced off to get his truck, and John spoke to the crowd, “Could someone get me a six foot piece of half-inch rope and a very sharp knife?”

Once John started making requests that people could easily perform, it was as if the mass paralysis was broken. A couple of people raced away and returned in minutes with the requested items. John used two pieces of rope to create a tourniquet for both legs. He selected the sharpest knife that had been brought, promising to return it later that day. He proceeded to make cuts into the bites. The cuts were single cuts in the direction of the curve of the snake fang. He was quick and efficient about it. He ignored the pain as he worked.

A number of other people had raced off to get guns. When a significant number had returned, they lined up in front of the snakes. For the next few minutes, it sounded like a war zone as men shot at snakes. Most of the men had pistols loaded with snake shot. A few had .22 caliber rifles.

When Ed pulled up in his truck, John slowly hobbled over to it and got in the passenger’s side. Once seated, Ed drove off towards the hospital. John continued his treatment. Some spots were tough to reach, but he did his best. He searched his legs looking for any bites that he might have missed. Satisfied that he had gotten all of the bites; he took a deep breath. Then he went on to the next stage of treatment. He tied the loose end of the rope below the bite that was furthest away from the tourniquet. He started wrapping the loop of rope hanging between the two ends around the leg, slowly increasing the pressure inside the region of cuts. The cuts began to seep blood mixed with a pale yellow liquid. Some cuts had more of the yellow liquid than others. He repeated the process on the other leg. The amount of liquid expelled from the cuts was amazing. He unwrapped the ropes and proceeded to wrap the rope between the ends again. More blood and pale yellow liquid seeped out. He repeated the process on both legs until no more yellow liquid seeped out and the blood ran clean.