A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,138

the man. We’ll pick him up tomorrow.”

“I’m not pressing charges,” Jake said.

Ozzie looked at Carla and she was nodding her head. They had obviously discussed this and made their decision.

“Come on, Jake,” Ozzie said. “We can’t let this go unpunished. They could’ve killed you.”

“But they didn’t. I’m not pressing charges.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want the hassle, Ozzie. I have plenty on my mind right now as it is. Plus, that family has been through enough. I’ll heal just fine and forget about this.”

“I doubt that. I got jumped once in Memphis, got knocked around pretty good by some bad dudes. I still remember every punch.”

“I’ve made my decision, Ozzie. No charges.”

“I can arrest him anyway, you know?”

“Don’t do that. Besides, you can’t convict if I don’t testify. Just tell the Kofers to leave me alone. No more phone calls, no more threats, no more intimidation. If they as much as frown at me, then I’ll file an affidavit for this and press charges. Let’s keep it hanging over their heads. Okay?”

Ozzie shrugged. No sense arguing with Jake. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is. And tell the family that I carry guns and have permits. They won’t catch me out again like that, but if they get too close they’ll pay.”

“Come on, Jake,” Carla mumbled.

* * *

—

FOR HIS THIRD and final night, he slept alone. Carla was tired of the backbreaking foldaway, and Jake convinced her to go fetch their daughter and have a quiet night at home. They called at nine and said goodnight.

But the sleeping pills didn’t work, nor did the pain relievers. He asked a nurse for something stronger but she said he’d had enough. The second sleeping pill backfired and at 2:00 a.m. he was wide awake. The physical shock was wearing off and the swelling was decreasing, but he would be stiff, fragile, and racked with pain for a long time. His bones and muscles, though, would heal. He wasn’t so sure about the fear, the horror of being so violated. One moment he was his usual self, fit and busy with his mind on pressing matters; the next moment he was on his back, stunned, bleeding, and taking blow after blow to the face while getting mauled. Forty-eight hours later, it still seemed surreal. He’d had the same nightmare twice, a horrific recall of seeing the hate-filled face of the man on top of him pounding away. He could still feel the hard asphalt under his head, blow after blow.

He thought of Josie again and wondered how any human could tolerate the reality of constant physical danger. Jake was six feet tall, weighed 180, and if he’d had the chance he could have traded a few punches before going down. Josie weighed all of 120 and didn’t stand a chance against a brute like Kofer. And imagine the horror the kids endured hearing their mother getting knocked around, again.

34

When Dr. McKee arrived early on his rounds, Jake was standing in the center of his room with his hands raised halfway above his head. His gown was lying across his bed and he wore a T-shirt and bulky sweatpants, the largest pair Carla could find. And he was wearing running shoes, as if ready for a morning jog.

“What are you doing?” McKee asked.

“Stretching. I’m leaving. Sign the papers.”

“Sit down, Jake.”

He backed onto the bed and sat on the edge. The doctor gently unwrapped the gauze around his head, probed his stitches, and said, “We’ll get these out in a week or so. Not much else to do with your nose but let it heal. It reset nicely and won’t have much of a bend to it.”

“I really don’t want a crooked nose, Doc.”

“You’ll have more of a rugged look,” McKee replied like a smart-ass as he pulled off the last of the gauze. “How are your ribs?”

“Still there.”

“Stand up and drop your pants.” Jake did so and gritted his teeth as the doctor examined, quite delicately, his testicles. “Still growing,” he mumbled.

“When can I have sex?”

“Wait till you get home.”

“Seriously.”

“Coupla years maybe. I’ll release you, Jake, but you must take it easy. This will not be a quick recovery.”

“Take it easy? What else can I do? I can barely walk with these things.”

Carla eased into the room as Jake was pulling up his sweatpants. “I’m outta here,” he said proudly.

“Take him home,” McKee said to her. “But he stays in bed for the next three days, and I mean it. No physical activity at all.