Friends: The following weeks I will be posting some of the chapters of my new short story entitled, The Lost Dogs of Mercy Trap. This is the first of 6-8 stories to be published in 2016. I hope you enjoy. John
The Lost Dogs of Mercy Trap
A short story (Chapter Two)
John Preston Smith
Christmas 2015
Two
There are advantages to living in a small town. One of which is how people respond to tragedy.
The sheriff’s deputy who first arrived at the crash immediately called for emergency vehicles. It was not difficult to assess what had occurred. One car had T-boned another at the intersection. The body in the road had propelled through the windshield of the car that had come down Gunner Hill. He knew the man was dead. Still he checked his pulse. He gently opened his mouth, and smelt his breath.
He ran to the second car. “Jesus,” he whispered.
He knew it was Mary Christian and he knew she was dead.
He checked for her pulse. None. He opened her purse. The license confirmed her identity. As the wail of oncoming sirens grew, he noticed movement on the back seat.
“Aw Jesus. No, no, no!”
With incredible strength he forced open the crumpled door and climbed in beside the boy. He thumbed open his cell phone and called Sheriff Bobby Stanley
* * * * *
Joseph’s Dad had taught him that policemen served to protect their community. Therefore, when Sheriff Stanley stood at the front door of Joseph’s home, his stomach churned with pangs of alarm and fear.
The Stanley’s and the Christian’s had formed a friendship during soccer games when their boys played on the same team.
It was a classic scene from all the great movies where the delivery of news is devastating. Bobby Stanley stood in the doorway, his uniform neatly pressed, his head bowed. He slid his hands along the brim of his Smokey Bear hat as he held it in front of his belt buckle
“Bobby, what is it?”
“I’m afraid I’ve got bad news, Joseph,” he stammered.
Joseph tried to speak, but could not.
“You’d better sit down.”
“Is it Mary? Is it Jimmy?”
Bobby’s voice cracked. “It’s both.”
The curtain came down in Joseph’s life.
The Bog 