Solemn Oath Read Free Page A

hand over the receiver, heard the woman’s panicky voice, and then the sound cleared as the hand was removed.
    A man’s voice, high-pitched with near panic, as well, came across the line. “Hello? This is Craig Chapman. My wife’s not doing too well right now.” He stopped and took a breath. “I was winterizing the car out in the garage, and our three-year-old drank some of the antifreeze while my back was turned. It was dripping from his chin when I caught him.”
    Some of Mr. Chapman’s tension transferred itself to Lukas. This could be bad. “Do you have any idea about how much he swallowed?”
    â€œNo. I hadn’t used the stuff for a few months, and I didn’t pay any attention. I tried to get him to throw it up, but nothing worked.”
    â€œWhere do you live?” Lukas asked.
    â€œWe’re out by Old Well. You’re the closest hospital.”
    Lukas grimaced. Old Well was almost an hour’s drive into the hills over rocky dirt roads.
    â€œWhat can we do?” Mr. Chapman asked, panic once more filling his voice. “Will this stuff hurt him?”
    â€œIt depends on how much he drank, Mr. Chapman. I need you and your wife to stay calm so we can discuss this and help your son as quickly as possible.” Old Well…what was it Lukas remembered about that place? “Do you have any liquor in the house?”
    â€œNo, we don’t drink.”
    â€œHow about your neighbors? Are you close to a liquor store?”
    â€œWe don’t know our neighbors around here yet. We just moved in from Kansas.” The man’s voice grew tighter and higher. “Tell me what to do!”
    â€œDo you have any cooking extracts? Any vanilla?” If there was enough, vanilla extract could save the child’s eyesight due to the high percentage of alcohol. It could even save his life.
    He heard the man put the phone down and ask his wife, heard her frantic reply and a small clatter of bottles, and then suddenly remembered who else lived near Old Well. Yes!
    Chapman came back on the line. “We’ve got half of a little bottle of vanilla, Doctor. Is that enough? Will that help?”
    â€œGive it to him, but you’ll need more.”
    â€œHe’s not showing any symptoms yet. He isn’t acting sick.”
    â€œThe symptoms won’t show up for twelve to twenty-four hours.” And then it would be too late. “Mr. Chapman, do you know Emmet and Ruby Taylor? They live out in the hills near you at the edge of Mark Twain National Forest, about two miles from the cemetery by the church at Old Well.” He should know. Ruby Taylor had almost died of lead poisoning from her still a few months ago. The still had been destroyed since then, but Lukas knew Ruby. “Take your son over to their place. Tell them I sent you, and ask for a bottle of their best. They’ll have liquor somewhere.” He prayed that the Taylors were there. They usually were, with their teenage boys and dairy farm, pigs and chickens and rusted-out tireless cars sitting in the front yard.
    â€œYou want me to get my little boy drunk?” Chapman asked, a hint of indignation in his voice, as if it had suddenly dawned on him what Lukas was saying.
    â€œI want you to get enough grain alcohol down him to counteract the effects of the antifreeze,” Lukas said. “About three tablespoons of Ruby’s stuff ought to do it, but you don’t want to overdose him, especially since we don’t know how much he’s ingested. Mix some orange juice or something with it so he’ll drink it. Maybe some sugar will kill the taste. Then get him here as fast as you can.”
    â€œWon’t the alcohol interfere with the antidote?”
    â€œIn this case, the alcohol is the antidote. Mr. Chapman, the effects can kill him if you don’t treat.” He didn’t want to be cruel, but the man needed to be aware of the serious risks. The sound