Fighting for Life

By Jason Owen

Dr. Clarence Tuff has always wanted to help people, but when a situation would present itself, he would find some excuse in his mind to not intervene. However, when one of these decisions costs the life of someone close to him, he resolves to never let it happen again. Very soon, his new resolve is tested, and he does act and save the people, but now it may cost his very life! In more ways than one, he will be fighting for life!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 22, 2024
• ISBN: 9798888323595

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Fighting for Life

Jason Owen

ISBN 979-8-88832-358-8 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88832-359-5 (digital)

Copyright © 2024 by Jason Owen

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

About the Author

Acknowledgments

I could not have completed this book without the love and support of my family.

Also, I'd like to thank Mathew Blankenship, who proofread this story for me to make sure it was worth reading.

Chapter 1

The rain tapped on the metal roof of Dr. Clarence Tuff's truck as he drove on the soggy road. He was lost in thought about the day's events. Tests, papers, and grades, being an associate professor at Blazer University can be hectic, but he enjoyed the work. Medieval studies had always been a passion for him. He loved the era, and he had a gift for teaching people about the historic time period.

In his four short years with the university, he had gone from just being another instructor to being the instructor that all the students wanted. There had been a waiting list for his medieval studies classes so much so that the dean of the college had to insist that Dr. Tuff teach only medieval studies classes. He was the only associate professor to have that distinction. Most professors of his rank would have to teach all undergraduate classes and maybe get to have a specialty class, but Dr. Tuff had proven to be much more than an ordinary professor.

As he pushed on through the muck of traffic and weather, his thoughts turned to the subject of his first book. Would it be a detailed biography of Sir William Wallace? Maybe a through look at the strategies employed by all sides at The Battle of Agincourt? A knight from the crusades that he had researched? or several other topics that he rattled about in his mind. He was suddenly brought out of his thought and back to driving when he nearly hit a parked car on the side of the road. The car seemed to just appear out of the rain, and he swerved to miss it. Luckily, there were no other cars on the road for him to hit, or he might have had an accident right there. He regained his position on the road and looked back at the car. He could see someone holding an umbrella and looking at the car with the hood up. Clarence wanted to stop and see if he could assist but then realized that if the car needed more than gas or a flat tire, he would not be able to help. It bothered him to no end, but he continued on his way. He hated not helping the person, but he knew he did not want to be late for his classes, and he was not confident that he could have helped, but he so wanted to help.

Ever since he was a kid, Clarence had read all of the comic books about superheroes and how they were unsure of their abilities, but they still found a way to help. The sense of compassion the characters felt for the people they protected was endearing and inspiring to him. They also reminded him of his grandfather Jonny Tuff, who was a ranger in World War II and won a Bronze Star for bravery. When he graduated from high school, he desperately wanted to join the Army Rangers, but his father and, much to his surprise, his grandfather forbade it.

Clarence's grandfather had seen the horrors of war in Europe and in Asia and did not want another member of his family to experience one second of it. Papa Tuff, as Clarence called him, made Clarence's father go to college and stay there until he had completed every grade possible. Clarence's dad, Dr. John Tuff, had made him go to college as well. The way Papa Tuff explained the situation, it seemed that every member of their family had been in the military in some form ever since they had been able to find records. He could prove descendants all the way back to The War of Jenkins' Ear but had been told that their line of military service went much further back in time, but he had not been able to find those records. Clarence's search for the records led to his love of history and his decision to be a history professor. He rationalized that if he could not join the military and make history, then he would teach other people about it. It seemed that Papa Tuff did not want to continue the family tradition and ended it with Clarence's dad or rather began a new family tradition with Clarence's dad.

As Clarence parked his car in the faculty parking lot, he put all of these thoughts out of his mind. He put his wide-brimmed Indiana Jones–like hat on his head and proceeded to walk to the building. As a professor, Clarence knew he could not show up late to class and had made it there in plenty of time. Just as Clarence entered the building, Dr. Franklin Cassel greeted him.

Morning, Dr. Tuff. It is good to see that you made it here safely.

Was there ever any doubt, Frank? Clarence asked.

Well, not everybody made it here, Frank said as he motioned to a group of faculty gathering together and consoling one another.

What…what happened? Clarence said stumbling over his words as he looked at the weeping huddled masses.

It appears that Dr. Constance McGraw was in a car wreck this morning.

Will she be okay?

No, she was killed. Frank looked away from Clarence as he said the dreadful words.

How did it happen? Clarence asked, taking a deep breath to control his emotions.

We do not really know [Just then a state trooper walked passed them in hallway, but what he just told us—Frank pointed to the trooper—she was having car trouble and was on the side of the road looking at her car when another car crashed into her car, and the impact sent her car….on top of her.

Oh, crap…This is my fault! Clarence said as he sat down on a small bench in the hallway.

Your fault? What do you mean? You did not hit her! Frank said, trying to understand the recent confession from his friend.

No…but I saw her on the side of the road. I did not know it was her. I could not see much of anything in this rain, but I did see her looking at her car in the rain. But that was just about ten minutes ago? How did the trooper know?

As he was talking to us, he kept getting messages from the microphone on his shoulder. I guess he was sent to notify us while other troopers were there to look at the wreck.

I could have prevented this! Clarence cursed at himself.

Listen to me. If you had stopped to help, then you and she might very well be dead! You said it yourself that you could see through the rain, and it is terrible. We can sit here all day and go over and over what could have happened to prevent this, and I am sure at some point in time, there will be a faculty meeting about road safety, but not today.

What do you mean?

The president had canceled all classes for today because of the weather and the loss of life. We, the faculty, are to use this day to grade papers or tests and then be out by no later than 1:00 p.m. today.

I do not know how I will do anything today, Clarence said, putting his hand to his head.

Just go to your office and sit there, okay? I will find out all of the details about the memorial and all that stuff and tell you about it. Hey, we will have lunch today! Frank said, putting a consoling hand on Clarence's shoulder.

Okay, okay, Clarence said, acquiescing to his friend and colleague's suggestion.

Clarence walked away from his friend and shuffled his way down the hall to his office. He felt so terrible that his failure to act had cost a human life, not to mention, someone he knew. He began to curse himself for not stopping but then he realized that he had reached his office door. He fumbled with his keys for a minute, found the right one, and opened his door. He sat down behind his desk and rather aimlessly looked about the room for something to do to get his mind off the sadness.

He looked through some of his books to find any inspiration for the book he wanted to write. In one of his books about medieval tactics, he saw a drawing of a castle. Actually, it was just a small wooden fort with a motte. The castle was divided up into two what looked like houses. The first house was round with high walls and ramparts at the top. There was a small breezeway that led up to the second house which looked identical to the lower house, but it was a bit smaller. Clarence could see that these houses had large courtyards in the center of them. This castle was not for living purposes but for defense alone. He could envision a great defense for this castle and even felt a good research topic developing in his mind. He would find all of the times this fort design was used, and surely, those battles would be worthy of being chronicled, and he might even make a profit. Then he read the caption underneath the picture.

This fort design was never used due to the odd nature of its architecture.

Clarence was dismayed. He threw the book across the room in disgust. He could not believe that the first idea he had today that had gotten his mind off the guilt that had plagued him all day was now gone. Nearly a whole day of research was wasted. He took a moment and got his composure. He looked around the room for something else to occupy his mind.

He found some of his students' papers and began to read them, but it was not long before his mind drifted away back to his failure. He put the papers down and paced around his office, hoping the little bit of exercise he got from the activity would work out the anxious energy he felt. Just as he got into a good rhythm, the phone on his desk began to ring.

Hello, Clarence answered.

Hi, Clarence. I was just checking on you. I heard about Constance, and I just wanted to see what I could do, Mary Tuff, Clarence's wife, said.

No, my dear. I have only just heard about the wreck, and I do not think we would have known that if the trooper had not come to the school to verify her identity. I have heard nothing from her family.

"Well, I meant, is there anything I could do for you?" Mary said, putting emphasis on who her concern was really for, and why she had called.

Me? I…I do not need anything. Constance was a friend and colleague, but I am fine. Why do you ask?

I got a call this morning…from one of your friends, and he seemed to be under the impression that you blamed yourself for her death.

You have been talking to Frank! Clarence accused, not really angry but not exactly happy that his private conversation had been discussed by other people even if they were trying to help.

Yes, he called a little while ago, and we chatted about all of the events. Clarence, you cannot blame yourself for this…accident. You did nothing wrong! Mary consoled.

I saw her! She was on the side of the road! Hell, I almost hit her. If I would have stopped and helped her, she would be here, now, with us! I may not have run into her myself, but I left her there to die! Clarence shouted angrily into the phone.

No! You did not ‘leave her there to die.' There was not a hooded figure hovering around her, was there? Mary asked, undeterred by Clarence's angry outburst.

Uh…well, no, Clarence said in a stunned manner at his wife's question.

Exactly, you had no way of knowing that she would die there on that road! You are not to blame for this! Mary insisted.

Well, I could have done something! Clarence said, trying to find a hole in his wife's very sound logic.

What could you have done, my dear? Mary asked softly.

I…I…I could have tried! Clarence managed to get passed his trembling lips.

Oh, Clarence. Why don't you just come home? I am sure the dean will allow you to go.

Yeah, I suppose he would. Clarence looked up from his computer and wiped a tear from his eye as he gazed at the clock in his office. By 1:30 p.m. Yeah, we were supposed to be gone by 1:00 p.m. today.

Well, then come home, and we can talk about it face-to-face instead of phone to phone, Mary said in an attempt to lighten Clarence's mood.

I will, Clarence said and managed a laugh.

Clarence hung up the phone and got up from his desk. He had sat down to talk to Mary when the phone rang. Just as he got to his feet, there was a knock at his door.

Come in. He bade the visitor.

Are you still here? Frank asked as he entered the office.

"Yes, but I am going home now. By the way, thanks for telling my wife about our conversation this morning!"

"Hey, I knew you would not, and you looked like you needed someone to talk to, and I told someone who I knew could get you to talk, your wife."

She did, and that is why I am leaving now. Has there been any word on arrangements for Constance? Clarence asked.

Not that I know because her passing was so sudden. I think her family is still calling all the rest of her family, and then maybe they will make some arrangements. The dean has set up a collection for flowers for her funeral. That is all I know, Frank said as they walked out the office door and into the hallway.

Wow, you just never know how long you have to live? Clarence said in a sadden manner.

"Hey, wait a minute! You were just fine a second ago. Do not turn on me again, or I will call your wife. I know her number, and I know how to use her!" Frank said, holding his cell phone in hand like a sword.

Pick up the gauntlet, I mean no harm or offense. I am fine. I am headed home now! Clarence said, holding his hands up in a surrender motion.

Both men stared out the back door of the building at the downfall. It had lightened up since the morning, but it still was raining well. Neither man wanted to wade out into the downpour, but they knew they had to for them to get home. Clarence finished putting on his overcoat and then fitted his hat onto his head like a helmet as if he were going into battle.

Well, I will see you tomorrow, my good man, Clarence said as he offered his hand to Frank.

Indeed, you shall! Frank returned as he took his friend's hand.

Clarence took one last look at his friend and then rushed out the door into the downfall. He held his hat on his head with his hand as ran to his car. He got to his Ford, and just as he stopped, he slipped to the ground. He laughed at his misstep and then got to his feet. He retrieved his keys from his pocket and opened the door with the fob on the key chain. He into his car threw his hat into the passenger seat and shook the excess water from his clothes and skin. He could hear his wife in his head fussing at him for doing that in the car, but he cared little for the sentiment at that moment.

Clarence drove out of the faculty parking lot and down the road. He could see a lot better now that the storm had let up, but the rain still was falling. He drove on to the highway and headed up the road to his home where his lovely wife waited for him. As he drove, his mind wandered about his wife and how much he loved her. He wanted to think of something nice to do for her because she was always his greatest supporter in whatever endeavor he sought. Just as he was about to get lost in thought about Mary, he was brought back to reality by the sight of a grouping of cars beside the road. He realized that he was passing where Constance had been killed earlier that day. The police and trooper cars were parked along the side of the road, still trying to ascertain all of the facets of the wreck.

He pushed on pass the crash site and tried to keep his thoughts from going back to his earlier failure to act. He tried to focus on his book topic again. He did not want to do a topic that had been written about but wanted something new. Then his thoughts turned to his grandfather. Papa Tuff, as he called him, did have an interesting story to tell, but his story was in World War II and not the Middle Ages. Papa Tuff had only passed away a few months ago, but he always wanted to do something special for his grandpa. It was then that Clarence knew that Papa Tuff would make the perfect topic for his book.

Clarence spent the next few miles going over the process by which he would write his grandfather's biography. As he negotiated a sharp turn on a curve, he had figured out just how to begin his book when he happened to see the oddest thing seeming to come out of the embankment.

He slowed his car to a crawl to get a better view of what it was out there in the misery that was the weather. Clarence wiped the windshield clear as his body heat had made the windows fog up; he could finally see what it was that had drawn his attention—smoke. He stopped the car and could actually see where the smoke originated. A small car had slipped off the slippery road, flipped over, landed upside down, and was now on fire. Clarence could not see if there were any people in the car or around the wreckage, but he knew he had to act. He reached for his cell phone to call 911. His nervous fingers punched in the numbers, and the operator quickly answered.

911, what is your emergency?

I am on highway 129, and I see an overturned car, and it is on fire! Clarence said excitedly.

Okay, sir. Please calm down and tell me exactly where you are located, the operator said.

I told you I am on highway 129! This car is on fire!

Sir, I am going to ask you to calm down. Highway 129 is a very long road—

I am not far from the city, just north in fact! I just passed two police cars and one state trooper about five miles ago!

Sir, please do not interrupt me. I need all of the information before I can send help.

Just then the car had a minor explosion, as minor as one can be, and this made Clarence all the more uneasy with the operator. He took just half a second and began his speech again.

Madam, I do not mean to be rude or hostile, but these people need help now! My phone has GPS. Just track it, Clarence said, and he threw the phone into his passenger seat.

The rain had picked up a little, and Clarence felt better because that meant the fire would have a harder time, at least he hoped that was the case. He made sure his car was off the road and got out. He had failed to act once already today, and that failure had cost the life of someone he knew. He started to go down the hill but then stopped when the thought crossed his mind that no one might even be in the car. Any fears of a vacant wreck were put to rest as he managed to see a hand reach out of the driver's side door and attempt to brush some of the mud that was trying to flood its way into the wrecked car.

The time for hesitation and fear had passed. Clarence knew he needed to act, and he had to act now! It is what his Papa Tuff would have done. Clarence tried to hurry down the soggy hill on his feet but, about half way down, slipped and slid the rest of the way. Like a gymnast, he sprung to his feet when he reached the bottom of the embankment. Like a rocket, he raced over to the hand reaching out from the car. Clarence grabbed the hand and tried to comfort the person.

I am here! I will not let you go! Clarence said as he held what turned out to be a lady's hand and pried open the car door with his free hand. He was surprised at his strength but then quickly attributed it to the fact that his adrenaline was working. He managed to get the lady out and carried her from the wreckage and away from the burning car.

No! No! No! The lady screamed.

What is it? Clarence asked, shocked that the woman seemed to want to be left in the car.

My baby! My baby is in the back seat! she screamed.

Clarence turned and looked at the burning car. He knew he had to get that child out even if it meant he might not make out himself. He rushed back to the car and looked for the child. The child was just as the mother had said safely secured in a car seat in the back of the vehicle, now hanging upside down. Clarence pried open that door too and unshackled the tot from the burning car and nestled him into his arms. Clarence started to run away from the car but then stopped when he saw more people arrive. The seconds he spent looking at the other people were costly because, at that time, the fire had reached the gas tank of the car. The car completely exploded, lifting Clarence off of his feet.

Time seemed to slow down for him at that moment. All of the gloom and doom that had surrounded him at the crash site seemed to melt away. He felt himself floating instead of falling. When he landed, the ground was not hard or soggy but feathery and dry. The rattling sound of