Friday, August 6, 2010

The Light...In Dark Places S32

"I was afraid...well, when I saw Gene with the group, I figured we'd lost him forever," Jed spoke softly into the dark.

"He looked so grown up and fine--I didn't know who he was--at first," Agnes lay quietly beside him as the moonlight streamed in through their open bedroom window.

"He must a' grown two inches since he's been gone."

"That new suit...he just looked different...I don't know..." she paused and her mind wandered back through the last few years.

"You're thinkin' maybe he's changed too much?"

"Jed, we're just--now I don't want this taken bad--"

"I know, Agnes. We're poor folks. We're poor in the 'goods of this world' at least."

"When we visited your step mother and sister, it was fun. I enjoyed myself. They do live a life different than what we live, but..."

"Peaches, do you wish you'd went back with your Aunt when your folks died? You'd of had that kind of life. Servants, a big house, silk and satin dresses. Probably married some rich man..." he thought how sick Agnes had been lately. Maybe a good doctor could help... Jed thought on the last few years with their hardships and toil. She had bore the work and tears, never complaining, but.... His heart agonized. Did she regret her choice?

"Jedidiah Wade! Have I ever given you to think that I hankered after that sort of life?! Have I ever?!"

"Well, no, I can't say that you have," he said slowly turning his face away from her.

"Jed...you just look at me, Jed!" she exclaimed softly.

He turned his head back toward her. "You could have had it so easy..."

"Well, that's right. I could have married John Beetley. Now that would have been something. He's been married to how many women...? Or what about Arthur Tahrt. Good old Art. He's still on his first wife, but that's because she just ignores all the insults. And then there was..."

"Whoa! Whoa!" he protested. "That was selfish of me...I was feeling sorry for myself. I just thought...I thought of all the things I would like for you to have. Things I always planned to give you, but times have been..." he continued in thought.

"You just stop it then!" she punched his arm half playfully. "You hear me...just stop it. I've never cared for any of those things, or I would have left with my Aunt...and my sisters. No, I used to wonder what our children would be like...and I couldn't think that anyone else would be the perfect father for those children. I was right too. I wouldn't have wanted children by any of those other fellows. They weren't worth making more of."

"And you thought I was?" It had never occurred to Jed to think that far ahead, and it was a revelation that she had.

"Some girls just looked at what the man...I mean boy...was on the outside and how he treated her. I have to admit all four of you boys covered those two bases well. Don't remember any one of you that was ever rude or thoughtless." She stopped to think back. "No, there were a couple of instances where there were pranks, but--those were done in fun. I liked the way you all were respectful of your Pa, and your step mother, and watched out for Grandma Wade."

"Those were just things everyone did," Jed protested.

"No, those were things that everyone should do, but I've been in enough homes to see the difference."

Jed remained silent at the backdoor compliment. How odd, he thought. Being respectful just came natural to him and his brothers. Was it because it was a natural character, or had it been ingrained in them from such an early age that it was second nature to them?

Agnes' thoughts turned back to Gene. "Now that he's been places, don't you think he will find it dull here? Won't he want something different? Something exciting?"

"Don't sell the boy short. At least give him a chance. I think he's made of some pretty good stuff. Character doesn't change, Peaches..."

*********************************************************

Gene lay awake thinking of the long journey. Yeah, it had been fun and exciting. He could now say he was a part of that group known as 'traveled folks'. He listened to the night sounds, the air was so heavy--so very hot. He took his pillow and went softly down to the front porch. Flopping his pillow down on the smooth painted board floor he lay down. The moonlight was so bright it made silhouettes of the trees, buildings, even the fence posts. He listened as the crickets played their night songs, and was so thankful to be home...

"No, Shep, go lay down over there." He whispered as Shep lay down right next to him. "Over there!" he nudged his dog away. "And stop panting so...you old fool dog," he sat up and caressed the soft silky head and ears for a little while. "Now go on over there. It's just too plum hot over here for both of us," he said with a chuckle.

Grudgingly the old dog moved over, but no further than he had to. He stretched out full length and the boy and dog went to sleep.

"Gene's not in his room," Agnes worried as Jed came into the kitchen the next morning.

Jed put a finger on his lips, he guided Agnes just a few steps, and she peered out through the open kitchen window.

"Oh!" she caught her exclamation, and her eyes grew misty.

"Do you think he's outgrown us?" he said handing her his handkerchief.

She shook her head and blew her nose. "Better get some breakfast started," she dabbed at her nose one more time. "Don't have anything fancy to fix..." she fretted. Taking one last look at the boy sleeping with his head on one side of the pillow, and the dog with his head on the other half, she sighed and turned back to her work. "I wish we had something extra for this morning..."

"Don't worry about it, Agnes," Jed spoke more to himself than to her, "he's never asked for anything but what we've had to give. Always been thankful for it too--an' I don't reckon he's going to change now..."

Gene woke slowly, raised up on his elbows and made a face. "Shep you old scoundrel!" he grinned as the dog roused out of his sleep and jerked into a sitting up position with a guilty look. The pots were rattling in the kitchen, and Gene could smell home cured meat frying. His stomach growled and his mouth watered as he thought of his Aunt's light fluffy biscuits and homemade plum butter. Nothing in all his travels could equal home and its simple pleasures.

"Just go on with ya, you old mutt," he scolded, but repented when he saw how ashamed his dog tried to look. Gene picked up his pillow and threw it on the porch swing, "Oh, come on," he invited Shep over as he plunked down on the swing. Shep sat on his haunches, tongue lolling out and laughing. Gene vigorously rubbed his head and behind his ears. "You old fraud!"

The spring on the porch door complained as Jed stepped out. "Too hot to sleep?"

"Good morning, Uncle. Yeah I would say. I think you could probably fry an egg on the side walk...When our ship got into dock the whole talk was of nothing but the heat!"

"Well, come on inside. Agnes has breakfast ready...we've been just having one hot meal a day. Don't have to heat up the kitchen that-a-way...so how was your trip?" Jed put a hand on Gene's shoulder. "My but I think you growed a whole foot while you were away, boy!"

Gene stood up a little straighter, "Yeah, just a few more inches and I'll be almost as tall as you..." he said with a grin.

"I'll go get the punkin'," Jed turned toward the stairs at the gurgling and cooing coming from Nissa's room.

"Wait--let me get her," Gene blurted.

Jed stopped with a grin, "Why, I guess I have been hogging all the attention the last few weeks--sure you go ahead."

Gene disappeared before the last word was finished. They could hear Nissa screeching with delight when Gene's head popped around the corner. Jed patted Agnes' hand as peek-a-boo noises and laughing and clapping sounds came from Nissa's room.

"You go ahead and offer thanks, Gene," Jed obliged as soon as the pair joined them, and Nissa was situated in her high chair.

"I'm not the only one that's grown," Gene exclaimed as he watched Agnes feeding the baby. "And she has changed in the last six weeks. I wouldn't have thought she would have changed so much!"

"Well, we don't see it. But David and Bessie's little Eric! Now he's sure grown--" Jed took a bite of his biscuits and plum butter. "We were so surprised to see you all last night--why it's a good thing my teeth are naturally fixed in my mouth!"

"That's so," Agnes teased, "you'd have stepped on them when you jumped up and they fell on the floor with your jaw!"

"That's probably right. I was so...well it was funny we didn't get your telegram. We probably won't get your letter for another two weeks.

"The court allowed us those two more weeks originally, but we got a telegram that said they'd moved the trial up and we needed to be back. Well, we had to catch the first ship back...and it was full speed ahead to make it on time. Aunt, these are the finest biscuits I've ever had..." he helped himself to two more and heaped plum butter on each half.

"Now, Gene with all those fancy places you've been..." Agnes turned a rosy pink at the compliment; she smiled quite pleased. "What is that dreadful...oh, look," she peered out the window, "there's Mr. Hurst."

They all turned to watch as their neighbor drove his tractor pop-pop-popping all the way down the drive.

Jed pushed back his chair and walked to the screen door, "Mornin' Bill," he called out as he stepped onto the porch, welcoming his neighbor.

Mr. Hurst swung off the tractor, and with his normal hitch to his get along gait, walked toward the house. "Mornin'," he said in his usual raucous gravelly voice.
He handed Jed a dish, "Ann sent your missus a dessert, heard she's been feelin' poorly. Thought maybe she would like some cherry pie. Had quite a time gettin' it here. She'll try to get by this afternoon for a visit. She's been pretty busy with our three little 'uns."

"Come on in for a cup of coffee. Don't know about you, but we're pretty much done for field work..." Jed held the door open for Mr. Hurst.

"You can sure say that again!"

Gene listened to the adults' conversation, and his thoughts floated along with their words. Mr. Hurst had moved onto the farm that the Kings had previously owned. Everyone had been surprised when the Kings had moved to the farm. The neighbors were not surprised when they moved back to town. Gene's thoughts were suddenly riveted back to the present as Mr. Hurst turned to him.

"Are you ready for the trial?" He asked.

Jed soberly pushed back from the table cradling his coffee cup. Waiting for the boy to answer. Even Agnes and the baby were quiet, all noise ceased. It was as if everything was suspended on a thin translucent cotton candy thread, afraid to move lest the thread should break.

"I guess we're as ready as we can be, sir," Gene said with a slight shrug.

"Ya ever seen a trial like this?" Mr. Hurst said in a quiet voice, unlike his normal free spirited conversation.

"No, sir. Can't say as I have."

"It's kind of intimidating for those involved, but real inter'estin' to watch. I saw one--a big trial out east once..."

"There were some real surprises that came out of it. Sometimes things aren't as cut and dried as you would think they would be."

"Is that so?" Jed asked leaning forward slightly his eyes narrowing with intensity.

"Yes. It was a murder trial, and every one just knew who it was that had done it...cept in the end--that wasn't who it was. It was a reg'lar mystery. Like them mystery stories they write."

"Well, they say that truth can be more strange than fiction," Agnes spoke lightly. Her heart beat quickened, an unknown fear rose in her breast. It was not until Nissa whimpered that she noticed how tightly she clutched the baby, and relented in her grasp.

"Don't worry, Aunt," Gene could feel the sudden fear and tension in the air, "Alistair is helping us, and David says God is watching over us." He spoke with a conviction that he did not understand. He had suffered wrongful accusations. Accusations that had never been cleared up and he knew that a number of people in the community still thought him a vandal and a thief. If God cared, wouldn't he have taken care of him...made sure he had been cleared? But David said God works in mysterious ways....


ALPH THOMPSON JURY SELECTED-- the paper screamed...OPENING ARGUMENTS BEGIN TODAY....

Sweat seemed to gush from every pore in his body as Gene sat in the packed court room. His gaze wandered over the jury sitting in the jury box. Gene never quite understood what people meant when they said it was a trial by a jury of your peers. These folks sitting in the box were just ordinary people. Not a one of them would have been peers with Alph Thompson. There were four local shop keepers, four farmers, one businessman, and two women. Even with perspiration beading their faces,they had dressed in their finest Sunday clothes prepared for the serious task at hand.

Albert Slie, the defending attorney, scrutinized the pages on the table in front of him as if searching for something that was not there. Every now and again he would turn to one of his associates and whisper something, then turn back to his notes. He was pleased with the jury selection, the two women, he felt, could be swayed to sympathize with his client. It would be harder with the shop keepers...

The prosecuting attorney, Dale Attabuoy, looked over his notes, and spoke quietly to Alistair. He turned back to his notes as the sweat carried the attorney's black spectacles down his adequate nose to rest at the tip. He removed them, wiped his face with his large white handkerchief then slid them back in place. He scanned the jurors earnest faces. Dale Attabuoy knew these people as Albert Slie could never have known them. Dale worked with them, and for them, even went to church with some of them. Some people would look at these folks as country bumpkins, but not Dale, he knew them very well. He watched Judge Boyel as he prepared to hear the case before him. Dale saw the judge peer through his spectacles, and sigh. He was an older man, just ready to retire...

"George Potter, do you mind if I call you Spike?" This had been a long week of heat and a stream of witnesses. Dale was about to pull out his Ace and throw it on the table.

"No, sir. Everyone calls me that..."

"Now, Spike," Dale continued his questioning, "tell us what you knew previous to the explosion. Don't be afraid, now..."

"Well, sir, I'd heard rumors that they were out to get 'that preacher'. I had it from a...a very good source that they wanted to shut him up."

"Now, Spike, you are obligated to tell the truth. It's very important that you tell the truth. Can you give us a better idea of what you mean?"

"I have two older brothers. They were paid to cause problems for David Pickerell...but because Alph Thompson was running short on his local goons..."

"Objection!" Albert Slie jumped up.

"Objection sustained. Please, young man, watch your phraseology..." the judge ruled.

"Ah, well, Alph had lost several of his right hand ...ah, workmen...and he called in a couple of goons...or I mean guys from Chicago to do the job. They were supposed to..."

"Objection! Supposition is not admissable..."

"Sustained. Please rephrase that last statement."

"The men were hired to set fire to the Pickerell's house." Spike wiped the sweat from his face.

"Objection. How does this boy know all of this...?"

"Overruled--let the boy finish his testimony!"

"George E. Potter, please finish, and answer the question. How do you know all of this?" The Judge instructed Spike.

"I was there when Mr. Thompson and Mr. Winsom made the deal."

There was a loud gasp as the boy's words hit the audience like a hard fist to the stomach.

"What do you mean, boy?" Dale encouraged.

"Sam and I was on our way uptown. Often times I'm confused with my brothers, 'cause we kinda look the same, and this big car eased up beside us and next thing I know we're sittin' listenin' to 'the deal' and what we're supposed to do. Since Lute and Zooker and their guys had been picked up that made Alph shorthanded, so Alph was bringing these other fellas in. Willie--that's my brother, and so's Sam, they were supposed to help, but Alph and Royal Winsom decided..."

There was another gasp. No wonder Mr. Winsom had been so sick lately. No wonder he was not here at the trial. His only son implicated in this sordid mess!

"Yes, sir, it was Willie and Sam what took the money from the hotel, and broke them windows. Yes, sir, they were supposed to make Gene Wade look bad...he's a friend you know, of David Pickerell. I felt so bad for my friend...Gene's as honest as...as...well as this day is hot. I just didn't know what to do...Willie and Sam...they're my brothers, but Gene's my brother too! Gene...I'm so sorry. So sorry!" Spike's head dropped into his hands and tears fell onto the wood floor. "So sorry!" echoed in the silent court room.