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Another rain shower had just ended and a hot, dry summer had suddenly transformed into a wet, chilly one.
DuBose said, “I never expected your mother to react the way she did, Jack.”
He set the glass down and glanced at her. “When I was twelve, Momma had me stand up to a bunch of bullies. As soon as I did, they never bothered us again. Now, I know this situation is not that simple. But... my mother’s right. I walk away from this, it’s like I’m saying they won. Hell, it’s like I’m agreeing with them. And if people who want to do what’s right run away, and the only ones left are like the man who hurt Lucy? Then what sort of world do we have?”
“I think people like Howard Pickett and George Wallace are counting on a vocal extreme minority dictating what this country will look like in the future.”
He gazed up at her. “Have you lost anyone to this madness?”
DuBose now wouldn’t meet his eye. “I have. Many people I work with have.”
“They’re operating on Lucy tomorrow.”
“You need to be with her. I’ll keep working on things.”
He nodded and said, “You know how to shoot a gun, Desiree?”
She looked surprised by this question. “No, I don’t.”
He took out the Colt and a box of ammo. “Come on, it’s time you learned.”
* * *
They parked by an open field set next to some woods. There were no homes within a few miles in any direction. A column of old, battered tree stumps lined the field.
They got out and Jack picked up a bunch of shot-up tin cans that littered the grass.
“I think everybody who ever learned to shoot in Freeman County came out here at some point. You don’t need a metal detector to find anything, just your hands.”
He lined up four cans on four separate stumps and then marched DuBose back a short distance. He took out his revolver, then showed her how to load it and work the trigger and hammer. Jack aimed at one of the cans and shot it cleanly off its perch.
He handed her the gun and showed her how to grip it. He also tutored DuBose on correctly setting her feet and hips and squaring her shoulders. He then instructed her on how to use the gunsight on the end of the muzzle to aim.
Her first two shots hit nothing but dirt and the third struck a stump, blowing wood chips off. The fourth shot sent the can spinning off into the fading light.
She looked flushed, excited, and terrified all at the same time.
“It’s not so easy to do that to a person,” he said, his features grim.
“For some people it is. Like the person who shot at me through my door.”
“I just hope you never have to use it, Desiree. Now, let’s practice some more while there’s still light.”
An hour later they headed back. DuBose went to the bedroom while Jack stripped down to his skivvies and lay on the couch with a blanket over him. Queenie came over and settled next to him on the floor with a contented sigh.
Jack reached down and gently rubbed the dog’s head and muzzle. “How you doing, girl? You wish people were more like dogs? Most days I sure as hell do.”
Queenie was asleep in under a minute. Jack listened to the dog’s gentle breathing and then he rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling.
Jack’s thoughts rested solely on his sister. She loved everybody, wouldn’t hurt anyone or anything, and someone had tried to kill her, apparently because he didn’t like what Jack was doing. But there was a lot of depravity out there. People not listening to a damn thing that anyone who disagreed with them said. Making them out to be the enemies, simply for having a different opinion.
In the room directly above him was a young, determined woman who was spending her entire adult life fighting for the rights of people like her to just live free, and equal, with everyone else.
Jack thought about all of the people he knew here. They would use the courts and politicians who saw it their way to preserve the status quo and make sure it would endure well past their own lifetimes. And on and on it would go. Until... what?
He closed his eyes and put his arm over his face to make the room seem even darker than his thoughts.
CHAPTER 53
