Military History—The Definitive Visual Guide to the Objects of Warfare was the title.
It had everything from armor and shields to swords, pistols, cannons, and even biplanes.
He checked out the book like any other citizen, writing his name on the card and master list she had at the desk.
“Please sign right here, Sheriff,” she said, pointing to the bottom of the card, “and have it returned in no more than one week…unless, of course, you are going to check it out again. The late fees can sneak up on you if you don’t.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, smiling to himself as he walked out. Be careful of the late fees, he thought. I could use more people like her as deputies! He was still annoyed that he had no takers for the firing squad.
He propped his feet up on the desk in his jailhouse and read only the captions under drawings he thought might look like a possibility.
“What’s that thing called that has a spikey metal ball on the end of a chain?” he called out to his captives.
“It’s called a flail, sir,” came the response from Ken. “It can have one, two, or even three balls attached to the chain.”
“Flail,” he mumbled, flipping through the pages. He marked the page, along with the pugio, that short dagger a king may use; the short throwing spear called a lancea; and of course a sword and shield.
This is going to take forever to make, he thought, remembering hearing about a small group in town that would do war reenactments at the Town Square on occasion.
* * * *
The Sheriff’s men were in position for the incoming church crowd that had grown each week since the day it all happened.
He would attend for the first time in a number of years—today if only to show his face amongst his citizens. He thought Judge Lowry might be doing the same, and he was right.
There was still only one service at 10 a.m., and it was standing room only today.
The Sheriff dressed for the service the same as always but did shine his boots this morning. His girlfriend wore a light-yellow spring dress that reminded him of how pretty she was on the outside. They worked the room before and after church, like a politician and his wife may do at a charity event.
Judge Lowry was doing the same, his girlfriend pointed out. “He couldn’t decide if he should bring his girlfriend or boyfriend along this morning,” she joked, but only to her man.
The Sheriff smiled with a who-knows hand gesture and shook more hands. “They’re going to love next Saturday,” he whispered to her.
“What’s next Saturday?” she asked, having an idea.
“It’s the exhibition. We will start at 4:15, after the close of trading, with the motorcycle jump followed immediately by the gladiator contest right next door in the rodeo arena. We already have fencing and bleachers for the spectators.”
Without asking, he took the stage following the service to make the announcement. Nearly two hundred people quieted to listen, including one glaring Judge in the back.
“Can I have your attention, please?” he shouted. “Please, everyone. I have an announcement. Some of you have already seen the construction near the courthouse over the past few days. You will see some work being done on the rodeo arena in the coming week.
“By now, most of you have heard about what happened to your mayor.” Most heads nodded, with more than a few commenting about it being a shame.
“Our deputy mayor will be filling in until Mr. VanFleet is able to return to his post. I’m sure that will be soon, but in the meantime I am putting together a tribute to him in the form of a spectacular death-defying show of sport for everyone here. We will all meet at the courthouse at exactly 4:15 this coming Saturday, with trading ceasing at 4. Our first event will be an Evel-Knievel-style death-defying motorcycle jump right over the courthouse.”
He smiled towards the Judge with this statement and was met with cold eyes and no expression.
“Immediately following the jump, we will walk right across to the arena for an exhibition of strength, sure to inspire us all. We should be done by 5:30 and, as always, my deputies will guard your roads home for the evening.”
Jason, Janice and Lauren, all in attendance, didn’t speak up when the floor was opened for questions, although none liked the Sheriff using James as the reason for the display.
“How much is it?” asked one man.
“Completely free,” the Sheriff responded.
“Are the kids allowed?”
“Absolutely. This is for everyone, but we will have the school open from 4-6 that day if you would rather drop them off.”
With no more questions, he just caught a glimpse of Judge Lowry slipping out the back.
* * * *
The good Judge paced back and forth in the empty courthouse, wondering how it came to this so quickly. His front-office assistant caught him off guard, shuffling some papers at her desk.
“Who’s there?” he called out, trying to deepen his voice and not sound as scared as he was.
“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just me,” his front-office woman replied. “I just ducked in for a minute after church to tidy up before the workday tomorrow. In case we get some visitors.”
He confided in this woman, who wasn’t much of a talker but not a bad listener.
“Only a week or two ago, I was the decision-maker over most things in town, and certainly those who had done wrong. Now I haven’t had a single person to Judge, and I’m losing my power by the minute. It’s a slap in the face having someone jumping over my building—on a motorcycle, of all things—without even being consulted. Don’t you think?”
“Yes, Your
