It was inconceivable.
It was supposed to have been routine, ordinary, a simple testimony. Roger Bankson had defaulted on a business
deal with him and two others. The other
men were out of town, so it left only Heath Barkley to testify in the trial he
hadn’t even wanted to hold. He had even
asked Jarrod if there was any way out of the subpoena.
It seemed strange to him to be in a courtroom without
Jarrod, or any member of his family for that fact. How much he had come to expect their presence in his life? He actually missed it now. He glanced out the window and watched the
beautiful summer day longingly. How
could Jarrod stay inside on days like this?
He longed to be out riding.
There was no sense of freedom better then the wind on your face and a
powerful equine force under your legs.
He waited patiently through opening arguments and a few other minor
witnesses and finally his name was called.
He climbed into the seat and raised his right hand as
requested.
“Heath Barkley, do you swear to tell the truth the whole
truth and nothing but the truth?”
“Yes sir.”
The questions began and Heath answered them directly, with
no added description.
“Is the man who failed to complete the deal in this room
Mr. Barkley?”
“Yes sir.”
“Can you please identify him?”
“Roger Bankson”
No one could have ever imagined it. Jane Bankson rose from her seat and calmly
revealed a gun. Heath saw it, but
couldn’t react. Before anyone else
noticed her, she had taken aim and fired.
Not one, but three times.
Heath felt each bullet enter his body. The searing pain was unmistakable. He had felt them all too often, but seldom
with this frequency. The first ripped
apart his shoulder. The second buried
itself deep in his chest, the third his abdomen. His last thought was the one of isolation. He was alone, no family near him.
* *
* * *
The family was summoned and they gathered in the parlor of
Doctor Merar’s home. It had been hours
and the doctor had not yet come to them.
Death lurked in the air and no one spoke, fearing it would settle.
Doctor’s were taught to remain detached. They were conditioned to accept that they
wouldn’t save everyone. They were not
gods. He hesitated beyond the
door. In recent years he had come to
know and respect this young man and delivering this news would not be easy for
the family he also cared for. His hand
again rested on the doorknob and he breathed in deeply.
* * *
* *
The silence hurt worse then the words.
“How long?” Her
normally strong and dignified voice was ringed with pain and quivered with
grief.
“A few hours at best.
There is too much damage.” His
voice belayed the sadness he felt. He
was a doctor in control at this moment.
“Can we see him?”
“Certainly, he fades in and out.”
They entered the room and pulled chairs close. Victoria took her place at his side and
gently picked up his hand and held it to her cheek.
“Darling?”
With excruciating slowness, a head slowly turned to the
voice and eyes opened.
“Motthher?”
“We’re here son.
We’re all here.”
Voices quietly chimed in to reassure the dying man.
“noootttt faaiiiirrr”
His breathing was slow, shallow and raspy. Deep in their hearts, they knew it was
indeed the end, but their minds refused to give up hope.
“No it isn’t son.
You rest and fight. We’ll be
here for you.” She hoped her words
would bring him comfort. She wasn’t
sure if he knew he was dying. It
brought her some faint hope that he would fight.
“Whhheerree?”
“You’re at Dr. Merar’s Heath.” Nick had finally found his voice. Heath would not leave them without a fight. He promised.
“Noooo” He
breathed as deeply as he could, hoping to gain enough strength for his
words. It hurt. He thought about giving up. The voice was quiet, but now clear. “Where will you bury me?”
With those words, death, floating just out of reach,
settled in. The temperature in the room
seemed to fall and life itself stopped for all those present.
Victoria had never been present for the actually death of
anyone she loved. Her parents had died
back east and tom was dead in the grove before she could get to him. She suddenly felt the need to help him, to
guide him, to give him strength.
“Next to your father of course.” She paused and expected a gasp from her children, but they seemed
to understand.
“No. Not for
me.” His words were filled with passion
and pain.
“Yes Heath. If
this is indeed your time to leave us, I will have it no other way. Your father will be there to greet you and
your mother. They will welcome you and
you can finally get to know him as you should have.”
It was Nick’s words that deluged the family with
tears. “Brother, you belonged at his
side from birth and you will rest in peace at his side as well.”
He again fought for his words. “Not so sure… but thanks… rather be with you all.”
His eyes slid shut before he witnessed the collapse of his
family around him.
* * *
* *
The agony of the situation had frozen time in the
room. It was six hours later when
Howard Merar gently nudged Victoria aside so he could check Heath’s
vitals. He expected to find them
nonexistent, but he didn’t. Inside the
battered chest, the heart still fought on.
In fact, it fought on for days.
After two weeks, Heath was carefully brought home to
rest. Not in a shallow grave next to
his unknown father, but in his room, with fresh clean sheets and regular
company. Jarrod was checking on his
youngest brother before heading to town and found him sullen.
“What is going through your mind, Brother Heath?”
He hadn’t even noticed Jarrod’s entrance, so he offered a
half smile. “Nothing important.”
“I doubt that. You
were no where near here.”
“Why next to him?”
“What?”
“Why would you bury me next to him?”
“Why not?”
“I never even knew him.
I brought shame to his memory.”
“No you didn’t.
You brought honesty. Nick was
right. You belong at his side.” He paused a moment and watched Heath’s
face. He seemed to understand the
words. “BUT, not for a very long time!”