Five Minutes

by

Beppina

“See you in five minutes, Pa,” I shouted to my father as he strode toward the saloon. “Mine’s a cold one.”

He raised a gloved hand in acknowledgment and pushed into the bar.

I turned and headed to the bank, planning to be in and out as quick as I could. The door swung inward with a tinkle of the bell. Four customers were bunched together by the manager’s desk.

“Mizz Johnson, ma’am. Mr Hammond.” I tipped my hat in greeting to the older couple. “Jay, Margie, how y’doing?” Newly married friends from my childhood.

I never heard their reply.

The sound of a single gunshot filled the small space of the bank. The women screamed, high and shrill. Voices shouted, faded, then rose in panic.

Another gunshot.

I hit the door hard and slid down to the floor. Sounds echoed around me as I tried to stand. My legs refused to obey. I remained slumped against the polished wood. My heart hammered fast and hard against my chest as I tried to move.

~x~x~x~

‘What just happened?
I’m not in pain, but my shirt is soaked in blood. It’s spreading across my chest and soaking into my pants. God, it’s bright red…

My hand’s sticky, red. It must be me— bleeding.

There was a shot.

Someone’s shot me.

Why?’

“Let’s get outta here—that’s Ben Cartwright’s boy you’ve shot,” an urgent voice cut through the chaos. “We’ve got enough money. Let’s go before people cotton on.”

‘I’m cold. So cold. I need to move. Gotta get up.

I want to get up.

Such pain in my chest now. It’s hard to breathe. Oh, the pain

What’s happened? A robbery? Outlaws?

Where’s Pa? Is he here? Is he okay?

The noise has stopped.

What’s that thumping? Can I hear my heart?

No! ’

“Get him away from the door. Come on! Let’s go.” The gang leader aimed his gun at the remaining customers and staff. “You people stay right where you are.”

‘Hands grabbing at me, my shoulders, my feet. They’re dragging me away from the door.

Leave me alone, don’t touch me. No!

The pain is worse. Don’t panic, Joe. Why am I numb?

Everything is fading, grey, black.

A voice. Not one I know. Gotta be a robber.

Where’s Pa? I’m scared. I’m bleeding a lot. I can see it…’

~x~x~x~

The door slammed shut. Glass rattled as a pane fell and shattered into a hundred shards. They skitter across the floor and into the spilt blood. The bells jingled angrily as the robbers fled, leaving the carnage behind. Townsfolk were already running toward the bank, guns at the ready—escape was not guaranteed.

“Let me help Joe—” Margie dropped to her knees. “Someone get a towel—anything to stop the bleeding. Jay, go find Doc Martin.” Her voice was firm, calm.

“Can I help you, dear?” Mrs Johnson stepped forward.

“Please—just hold this in place. We’ve got to stop the bleeding.” Margie took the towel, and the older woman knelt beside her, doing her best.

Voices carried through the broken window as men gathered on the sidewalk. Curiosity getting the better of them as they peered through into the mayhem inside.

“Let me through—let me through.” Doc Martin pushed the onlookers aside.

Sheriff Coffee followed. “Come on, folks, let the doc through. Why don’t you go about your business and let him and me do ours?” Some moved off, but many stayed. “Those of you hanging around—make yourselves useful and get mounted up for a posse.”

‘Is that Roy? I want to speak, but can only breathe. The words are trapped in my head.

Pa, where are you?

So cold now. Too tired to shiver.

It hurts so bad, Pa.’

“Hold on, Joe. I’m here to help.” Doc Martin took my cold hand, searching for a pulse before moving to my neck. “Stay with me, son. Stay with me. Has anyone gone to get Ben?”

Footsteps pounded across the sidewalk. The door flew open with a resounding thwack against the wall. More glass fell to the floor.

“Joseph! Joseph!” I felt my father drop to his knees, brushing stray hair from my bloody face.

‘It’s hard to focus, but I can see the fear in his eyes.’

~x~x~x~

Doc Martin looked up, his face full of concern. “It’s bad, Ben. As bad as it can get.”

“He’ll live?” Ben whispered.

Paul Martin’s expression said it all. He blinked back tears. “I don’t know. I need to operate, but he’s lost so much blood. We can’t move him—he’ll bleed out.”

“We have to. I’ll carry him. You’ve got to operate.” Ben’s voice cracked.

Paul packed the wound with cloths and fixed them tight. He sent a silent prayer that Joe would hold on as Ben gathered him into his arms.

“Move—clear the way, now.” The sheriff shoved people aside. Ben forced his way through, Paul at his side. Together, they marched down the main street.

‘I’m moving. There’s a voice.

I’m still alive. I know that voice…it’s Pa. He’s here.

“Hold on, Joe. You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you. We’re near the Doc’s now. Just hold on, Son.”

I need to tell him, not my fault…’

“Put him on the bed, then go wait outside,” Paul ordered. “I can’t do this with you here.”

“But—”

“Ben. Go. Please.”

‘Don’t send him away. Pa, stay…’

“It’s okay, Joe. It’s you and me now.” Paul patted my shivering shoulder. “Let’s get this bullet out and see what other damage it’s done, shall we?”

‘I trust you, Doc. If anyone can save me, it’s you. Do your best…’

~x~x~x~

---

“Well, Ben—the bullet’s out. I’ve done what I can with the muscle damage. Someone must’ve been watching over your boy. No lung puncture, and he’s breathing well. It’s up to Joe now, but I think he’s going to be fine.”

‘I knew you could do it, Doc. Guess I owe you big time when I get outta here.

Still hurts, but not so bad.

I can smell Pa. He’s here. I’m glad he’s here.’

“Thank you, Paul.” Ben shook his hand. “I never doubted you.”

The End

Word count 1,022

Rating PG