“Oh man,” he said.
“What's the matter? Give it to me straight, old buddy.”
“Good news first or bad news?”
“Good.”
“The bullet went straight through. Doesn’t appear there are any broken bones, so no bone shards. Entry wound and exit wound. So, clean through. Guess they were using full metal jacket rounds or something.”
“They were amateurs,” I grunted. “Likely didn’t know what the hell they were using. I’m guessing that was the good news. Now what's the bad news?”
“You've lost a lot of blood man, a lot of blood. The entry wound ain't too bad, but the exit wound, it ain't pretty.”
“Can you fix it?”
“If I can stitch it up quickly enough and keep the wound closed, you shouldn’t need a blood transfusion.”
“Do it then man, do it.”
“I'll do my best, Everett; I'll do my best.”
“I'm glad you still remember some of your combat medical training now that you're
a vet,” I said with a grin as he gathered some things together. “How'd that happen, anyway? You were a great field medic.”
“Well, how come you’re not a SEAL anymore?”
I shrugged.
“Just needed a big change in my life.”
“See? That's why I'm a vet. I just couldn't treat any more soldiers with bullet wounds, shrapnel, limbs blown off, skin burned off... It just got to be too much. Now I'm happy, living a relaxed life, making sure dogs and cats are okay. Way less stress, way less – until you waltzed in here, bleeding out from a gunshot wound!”
“I know, man, I know. Sorry to wreck your Friday evening.”
“Jeez, Ev, don't apologize,” he said as he started to get to work. “It ain't your fault you got shot... or wait, was it?”
“Uh, yeah, it kinda was.”
“What just happened then, man? How did my old buddy end up getting capped right outside my veterinary practice on a summer evening?”
“Well, I'm the principal of JFK High now.”
“No kidding?”
“Yeah, I just started this week.”
“Sheesh, and what a way to start! You must have some rough kids there if they're shooting the principal. In our day, we shot spitballs at our teachers, not freakin' nine mil rounds!”
I had to chuckle.
“Yeah, Jimmy, only thing is, it wasn't a kid who shot me.”
“Well, who was it then?”
“Drug dealer.”
“Everett, you're a high school principal, what the heck are you doing getting involved with drug dealers? Tell it to me straight, man, are you on something? You taking something to help with flashbacks? You can be honest with me, and I can help you to get off whatever it is.”