While at first I was surprised to see the sheriff arrive, it did occur to me a few minutes later that someone was bound to call the authorities after shots were fired near a camp site. Another assumption that I made was that Jimbo would give a reasonable explanation and that all would be well and we could go back to our crappy camping trip. Yet I was wrong yet again as I watched Jimbo turn around, put his hands behind his back, and allow the sheriff to cuff him.
"What the hell?" I called out, hopping out of my chair. "He was defending himself!"
"I don't interpret the law," The sheriff replied, "I just enforce it. Your friend has a very good defense and I'm sure any reasonable judge will accept it. But I'm not a judge, so he comes with me until the matter is settled."
"Guys, just relax." Jimbo said, trying to be the voice of reason, which was another unexpected surprise to everyone who was watching.
"Where is the gun right now?" the sheriff inquired.
"In the tent," Jimbo answered, "Black gym bag. I usually keep it on me, but decided to keep it off my person in case you came over."
"Smart man," the sheriff said, walking into the tent to retrieve the gun. Seconds later he emerged with the small handgun. "I'll take good care of it."
"Much appreciated," Jimbo replied, "We've been through hell together."
"Combat vet?" the sheriff asked.
"Yes, Sir." Jimbo answered.
"Same here," The sheriff added, "David and are were in the same division."
"Bill," David said, "Take good care of him, I'll have bail ready and get him out asap."
"I expected nothing less," the sheriff said, "But I still have to do my job. Sorry everyone."
"What about the body?" David said, rather patronizing. "You gonna wake up the coroner as well?"
"I'll come back out in the morning to grab it," the sheriff replied, grinning at his friend.
I couldn't believe what I was witnessing as Jimbo was put into the back of the car, and it slowly left the campsite. I walked over to Rachel who was pretty much still in a state of shock, and gave her a hug to be supporting.
"Don't worry," I whispered into her ear, "If your boss doesn't get him the best lawyer, I know people who can. We'll take care of this."
"Thank you," Rachel said, as she them smelt something, "I smell something burning."
Everyone was so concerned with what was going on with Jimbo, the steaks over the fire were left unattended too long and were started to develop an overblown char. I quickly went to the pit and flipped them, and while they were a little dark it didn't look too bad.
"I think they're ready, Sir." I called out to Mr. Parsons.
I was right, as Mr. Parsons took the meat off the grill and gave it to his wife who was finishing up the sides and served everything up. Everyone took a plate and sat down in the chairs around the fire, but no one was saying a damn thing. We chewed our food, and said nothing as I assume everyone was still processing what had just happened to Jimbo. First Josh was too tired to wake and Jimbo pumped a cougar full of iron. We were losing friends, as David and I were the last men standing, and outnumbered by the women.
"Are you alright, Nic?" Mrs. Parsons asked, trying to talk about anything.
"I'm feeling better, thanks." I said, as I took another bite of the steak, "I just feel back about Jimbo. He didn't do anything wrong."
"I know that," Mr. Parsons responded, "I'll make sure we get him the best attorney and we'll make these charges go away."
"Thank you," Rachel said, the first words she had spoke since sitting down to eat. I could tell that she wasn't in the mood to talk about anything after what happened. She was likely going to crash in her tent early.
"I wonder what Josh is doing?" I asked, trying to change the subject.
"Knowing him," Angie said, thinking about it for a moment, "He's probably been writing and talking to his agent all day. And probably roaming around in just a robe and boxers. he gets more don't when not wearing restrictive clothing."
"Good to know," Mr. Parsons replied, "Too much info, but it's good to hear he's getting some work done."
"That is one benefit to being a writer," Angie added, "It doesn't matter where he is, whether on a weekend retreat or at the beach in paradise. That kind of mindset doesn't have an off switch. No matter where he is, he's always writing or thinking about writing."
"That's rather interesting," Mrs. Parsons said, "So he never takes a break?"
"Sometimes, but now always." Angie replied.
"Fascinating," Mr. Parsons added, "I had no idea writers clocked in so much time to finish their works."
"It depends on what kind of momentum he's got," Angie explained, "If he's on a role, he doesn't even want to sleep. But when it's a struggle, he'll make up for lost time and veg out. It all eventually evens out, it's just so chaotic."
"That's an interesting way to put it," I replied, finding the insight so intriguing.
"Regardless of how he's doing," Angie added, "There a chance he'd rather be out here."
"Are you sure about that," I asked her, "He's sitting pretty not having to stay in a tent."
"True," Angie agreed, "But I think he would have found the cougar incident rather interesting and even inspiring.
"He'll have to take our word for it," Mr. Parsons said, "That will have to do."
"To be fair," I continued, "I'd rather be where he is right now. I'd rather not sleep in a tent. I don't mean to complain but if Josh is working, he's doing it quite comfortably."
"No arguments there," Angie agreed, "He's probably kicking it back right now and just chilling."