I took the time to reload the spent chamber and to holster my pistol just as a deputy marshal ran up and demanded to know what was going on. I told him about the whitewash being thrown on our shop and pointed out that the man had a number of fresh whitewash splotches on his clothes. Not only that, his boots were covered with the stuff.The deputy said, "Humph! It looks to me like you were justified in shooting the bastard. I will write it up that way. However, he ain't dead, yet. Who is going to look after him until he dies?"I said, "I do not know the answer to that, but it sure as Hell will not be me! Do you know who he is? Maybe he has a family that will look after him. I am all for letting him lie in the street and bleed to death. I could not care less what happens to him!" Well, we cannot do that. It might scare some horses or some old ladies." The deputy turned to the gathering crowd and shouted, "DOES ANYBODY KNOW THIS WOUNDED MAN? HE NEEDS SOMEBODY TO TAKE CARE OF HIM! THE TOWN. Closer to the house, my parents had long ago built a screened cement patio.One night in summer, I was out of school and wasn't scheduled to go into the convenience store until 10:30 or so. My father was on a three-day business trip and my baby sis Lisa (who, in actuality, wasn't all that much of a baby at 14) was sleeping at a friend's house. I was in my room, nude, when my mom stopped by and asked if I wanted to come out back and enjoy the evening breeze. I said sure and moved to put on some shorts, but she said, "Why bother? We'll keep the porch light off."A thrill shot through me but I tried to maintain a poker face. "Are you sure?" Why, are you chicken?" She giggled."Is that a dare, mom?" Yup," then she laughed and said, "If you and your periscope are up to it!" Well," I said, feeling myself blush again, "I accept your challenge, Mom, periscope and all!"About two minutes later, we were both sitting outside in the dark, sipping ice-cold glasses of lemonade. The lawn chair wasn't.
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