Thank you so much for all the reviews and favorites! A surprising number of people have shown interest in this "codswallop"—that I seem to want to apologize for—and I can't express my gratitude enough. This story is distracting me from a couple of distressing events that life is bringing my way, and it is a healthy distraction, in my opinion, so I welcome it.
I was told several times that Jasper's involvement in this plot is quite Emmett-like. I can almost see the smoke coming from your ears, as it didn't compute. Why would Jasper think of such a thing? Well, I know a couple of Texans, and I know lots of military blokes. I blended them all together to get a Jasper for this story that I think is pretty realistic. I'm so sorry if it's not at all forgivable.
Anyway, your questions regretfully fueled my creative monster, and so I present another Twilight persona acting quite out of character in this chapter.
So without further ado...
"This is not how I foresaw our vacation starting out," Alice pouted.
Edward smiled at her, indulgent and slightly regretful. "I feel sorry that we didn't stop them."
"Why?" Rosalie scoffed. "You think Jasper listens to reason once he gets an idea in his head?"
"What do you mean Jasper?" Alice retorted. "Emmett is the guy with all the brilliant schemes."
"Well, he's not shot Carlisle before. Not until Jasper encouraged him anyway."
The sisters glared at each other resentfully, before Rose turned away, nose in the air.
Edward, intent on keeping the peace—at least inside the house—rationalized. "When those two set their minds to a joint cause, there isn't much that can deactivate the mission. We're only lucky nobody got shot before."
Renesmee stood by the window watching her grandfather giving her two uncles a talking-to. "What's going to happen to them?" she asked.
"Don't watch. Seeing it is almost as painful as feeling it," said Alice, slightly petulant.
"Granddaddy's going to kill them, isn't he?" Nessie said indifferently.
"No…" Edward faltered.
Charlie, having overheard the conversation, chose that moment to crouch down in front of his little granddaughter, eye to eye. "Let this be a lesson to you, kiddo, that guns are not toys. You may absolutely not touch a gun until you learn the respectable and safe approach to firearms."
"Okay, Dad. She gets it, all right?" This came from Bella.
"Well, now we want to be sure, don't we? You understand, Ness? Guns kill people." Charlie stood up suddenly and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "You know, now that I think of it… I realize that Carlisle is a doctor, but do we need to take him to an emergency room? I mean the damage to his hand from the shot— Wait a sec! Those young men fired at each other, and that was a pretty big slug too. There was no wound…or blood…shock…" Charlie paled as his voice gave out.
Billy stared at his police chief friend meaningfully. Jake, who was chewing a chicken leg, slapped the man heartily on the shoulder. "Need to know, Charlie?"
Sue subtly shook her head at him as if to say, "You don't really want to know."
"Oh. No. No, I don't need… Forget I asked." Then Charlie seemed to remember something else when his gaze wandered out the window to the campfire site where the rest of the Cullens engaged in dialogue. "But Carlisle did hurt his hand…right? And Jasper and Emmett are going to be punished?"
"I'm afraid so," Edward confirmed.
"How is that going to work?"
"Curiosity is not your friend in this instance, Charlie," Edward told him.
"But I mean… Is Esme going to tan those big boys? Because that would be surprising. She's such an unassuming woman…"
"My wife always left the spanking to me," said Billy.
Jacob barked a laugh. "That's what you think!"
It was then that Alice turned rigid, her expression blank. She was seeing what the others couldn't see: the time to come. When Nessie or the wolves got in the way, Alice's visionary glasses fogged over, and the reels of future film blacked out. Occasionally, however, a wink of clear sight would shine through, and this is exactly what happened when a disturbing image caught her mind's eye.
Edward's head whipped around to face his sister. "How does she know how to do that?"
Alice, uncharacteristically dispirited, shrugged. "You know Esme. Always full of surprises."
Edward rolled his eyes and moved toward the door. "No, she's really not. Esme is reliable and predictable and loyal. That's what makes her the perfect mother. Your vision must be a faulty. But all the same, I think I ought to…"
"Where are you going?" Rosalie asked him sharply.
"I'm going out there to straighten this out before our mother uses our brothers for target practice."
"You have how many diplomas between the two of you?"
Carlisle delivered the scolding without anger; he was surprisingly matter of fact for having recently been shot.
Jasper's eyes rolled up as he mentally tallied while Emmett stuck out his bottom lip. They were surprisingly sturdy for having recently been shot.
Carlisle answered for the boys. "Innumerable. Countless honors and degrees…and decades of living. And yet neither of you stopped to think how wrong it is to fire a weapon in the midst of a crowd? Much less to fire it at one another. Of all the irresponsible, foolish notions. Thank God you hit me and not Sue or Billy or Charlie…"
"Carlisle—"
"No, Esme. Your sons have taken 'boys will be boys' to a whole new dismal dimension. What if a game warden had made a sudden appearance? Sorry to say I will not entertain any bargains for leniency. Now let's for the sake of diligence also touch on the fact that there were minors observing this shameful display—"
"What minors?" Emmett asked, interrupting.
"My granddaughter…"
"Oh, yeah."
"Seth Clearwater."
"That's reaching."
"That's not for you to say. Seth is still a lad—"
Esme interjected. "Darling?"
"One moment, love. Jasper, I would expect this sort of thing from Emmett"—the latter didn't disagree with that statement, but shrugged helplessly—"but not you. It's appalling. I'm not even going to go into how inappropriate your dress—or lack thereof—is when there are ladies and children present."
"Yes, sir."
During the lecture, the doctor's glasses had slipped down his nose and he heedlessly pushed them back to their place with his uninjured hand. "Emmett, there are bullet holes in the seat pockets of your jeans. I can see through to your skin."
The big boy looked down over his shoulder and smiled. "Yeah…"
Jasper snickered. He knew that didn't bode well for him, but he couldn't help himself when he discerned Emmett's humor.
"Neither of you is going to think this is so droll in a moment. You've left me no choice in this situation but to impress upon you the gravity of the event."
Emmett unwisely spoke up again. "Dude, I promise you that even if you don't do your smack-down routine, we will not shoot each other ever again. It wasn't even fun." He caught his brother's eye. "We are never, ever, EVER shooting each other."
"Like, ever," Jasper said.
Emmett grinned and threw up his hands. "So you can let your hand heal!"
"I said I can use my other hand," Carlisle insisted, "and it is beginning to feel better."
"Dr. Cullen, may I please make a suggestion?" Esme said pleasantly.
"Soon." He looked at Jasper. "Son, I want to know why you thought shooting your brother was a grand idea."
The young man self-consciously scratched his head. "Uh…I don't reckon I know. I was curious, I guess. And a tad bored. I like to use my guns, but it's not fun to shoot wildlife, because I hunt in other ways…" Jasper sighed. "Do I really have to go into all of it?"
"All right. I think I get the idea. You thought it would be more entertaining to shoot your brother. Emmett, you want to explain to me why you pursued this course of action?"
"Same thing. Curious. Bored."
"And so I can expect repeat behaviour the next time you are both bored and curious?"
Jasper answered. "No, sir. Consider this failure our last. I am very sorry."
"It won't happen again. Sorry, Carlisle," Emmett said.
"If you're not now, you will be when I'm through with you," their father muttered.
Before any of the men knew she'd gone, Esme flashed back with the shotgun in question and a canister of small shot. She expertly loaded the gun while Carlisle, Jasper, and Emmett turned to stare at her.
"Carlisle, I won't have you hurting your hand further. This is an easy correction that I can administer." She checked the barrel chambers then snapped the weapon into its lethal position. "Jasper and Emmett, assume the position."
They continued to stare at her.
"Boys. Bend. Over. The. Log. Now," she directed in staccato speech. "I will not ask you again. Carlisle, dear, you might want to move away."
That was when Edward made a timely appearance. "Esme, give me the gun," he commanded softly.
"Oh, good," she said brightly. "Edward's here. I've always wanted to shoot Edward. You can bend over with your brothers," she told her eldest son.
He looked to his father for support, gesturing to the paradoxical manifestation of his mother with a shotgun. "Carlisle, control your wife."
"As if," the doctor said silently.
"You're only making me want to shoot you more, Edward," sang Esme.
The lad was beginning to worry for himself. "I think the humidity is getting to her," Edward spoke again to Carlisle. "You need to stop her. She's serious."
"Esme, love. I don't think it's proper to shoot your children," Carlisle tried.
"Oh, please. I'm not going to shoot them in the head or anything."
Edward's mouth dropped open, remembering that it was the same condition when Emmett volunteered his body for bullets. He wondered how much of that was a genetic-venom element, and if it were, he would share that same bloodline, so to speak.
"Besides, they've already shot each other," she finished.
Jasper turned on his winsome grin that always seemed to charm Esme. "Yes, ma'am, but we stood farther apart."
"Then maybe this will teach you not to act like a bunch of coonasses," she replied with a matching smile.
Had Carlisle been more in touch with his delicate side that day, he might have gasped at Mrs. Cullen's choice of language.
"Dad!" Edward shouted, when he noted the shock registering with his father. "Are you really going to let her use your progeny for cannon fodder?" He closed his eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, woman, you don't know what you're doing. Alice is telling me that you're going to regret this if you follow through."
"Well, you can tell Alice to bring her little behind out here too and I'll regret shooting her as well."
"Carlisle," Jasper groaned. With the new threat thrown at Alice, he concentrated all his specialized efforts on this woman with the gun and she seemed to decompress. The laid-back Texan assumed they all could use a hit of composure, and so it was coming off of him in waves.
Then her husband finally found his voice. "Esme, whilst I agree that the punishment ought to fit the crime, this does seem a bit…hmm…"
"Redneck?" Emmett offered.
"Quite. It's all too rustic and violent for my taste, my dear."
"I suppose…" she began, Jasper's techniques achieving their full effect.
"That's it," Edward soothed, giving Jasper an encouraging nod. "Remember who you are, Esme. You are a Cullen, a doctor's wife. You're our mother, not our firing squad. Why don't you come with me? We can find some game to hunt. I hear that the deer in Louisiana drink the sweet tea. That ought to be nice change of flavor, don't you think?" He stuck an arm around his mother and led her gently away, glancing back over his shoulder to raise an eyebrow at Carlisle.