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April 25, 1920 Bergen "She just ain't actin' right lately, I tell you. I just don't know what a guy's supposed to do. It just don't make no sense to me." "Now, Bob, don't go getting all riled up about such a simple matter. We've all been where you are at one time or another. Haven't we, gentlemen?" Judge Edward Valsted paused and continued when the other men nodded their agreement. "Isn't that why you asked us to come out here?" The judge's eyes followed the disheveled man pacing in front of him. "Well, I guess I did ask you all to come out here all right, Judge, but I'm tellin' you, she's crazy and I just don't know what to do any more. I tried everything I could think of to get her back to her old self, but it ain't no good. Ain't no use tryin' nothing else with her." Bob Terrell stopped pacing, took a healthy swig out of the mug he clutched, belched, and smacked his lips. "We'll talk this out this morning, and you'll feel a whole lot better about everything after we're done. Okay?" Bob grunted his assent, so the portly, well-dressed judge continued, "We're here to offer a solution to your problem, if you're willing to hear us out and then keep your mouth shut about it afterward. What do you say?" "Well, I'm guessin' that I need your help; otherwise, I don't know what to do, really. I know'd from a long while back that you all lost your wives somehow, but I don't know any specifics." Bob stopped pacing and swayed on his feet, waving his mug at the other four men. Doctor Henry Belzer heaved himself up from the wooden chair he sat in, smoothed his vest, cleared his throat, and said, "Well, then, perhaps it's time we were upfront with you so you know what happened to our wives and then you can make up your mind about Clara. I'll start with my Mary." Doctor Belzer paced heavily. "You knew her, Bob. She was the sweetest-tempered woman a man could ask for. A wonderful cook, housekeeper, hostess, and mother. For twenty-three years she served me well." "Yep, I remember her real good, Doc, a real sweet thing." "Thanks, Bob, but hear me out now. A few years ago, I started noticing changes in her like she became ill-tempered, crying without any reason, and arguing with me about something almost every day. One time she even threw a plate of food on the floor in a fit of rage." "Well, I'll be. That sounds just like my Clara, it does," Bob interrupted, swaying and sloshing his drink. "Yes. Lucretia was the same way," Judge Valsted said. "My wife, too. Even worse if ya ask me. Meaner than hell, she was," Frank Larson spoke for the first time. "What was wrong with 'em, Doc?" Bob asked, his eyes widening. The doctor sat back down and replied, "I had no idea what was happening to Mary, but this ill temper lasted for about a year until finally I had enough and went to the judge here and we figured it out together." "What'd you all figure out? What's the matter with my wife? And what can be done 'bout it?" Bob slurred his words and waved his mug in front of the doctor. "Now, just calm yourself down a little. We're getting to that," Doctor Belzer said, raising his hand as if to protect himself. "Well, you're a doctor, ain't ya? What's ailin' my Clara? Is it something that can be fixed?" "No, I'm sorry, but it's nothing that can be fixed, Bob, not physically anyway. Now, what we're going to tell you about happened to all of us here. Our wives had almost the exact same symptoms, and they were almost all of the same age when it happened - about fifty years, give or take." Doctor Belzer cleared his throat and spit on the floor. "Joshua here should go next. Joshua, why don't you go ahead and tell Bob your story." Joshua Miller had been sitting in a shadowed corner listening to the other men, but now he rose to his feet, glared at the doctor, and said, "Hell no, I won't. You told me we was comin' out here to see about a problem Bob was having. You never said that Clara was the problem. I'm just a simple farmer trying to make a livin' for my family, and I won't be a part of this, no how." Thin-lipped, Joshua slammed his cup on to the shelf next to him, sloshing dark amber liquid on the dirt floor. He stalked out of the barn, mounted his horse, and galloped out of the yard. Our little brown and white border collie mix, Champ, carried on terribly in the yard, barking and yapping, indicating something was amiss in his world. I turned from the stew on the woodstove, poked my head out the door of the small shack I shared with my husband Bob, and saw the back of Joshua Miller as he galloped down our lane. The dog ran from the house to the barn to the lane, trying to alert someone to the trouble he felt in the air. That is when I noticed a horse tethered to the fence and two vehicles parked near the barn. "Champ!" I yelled from the doorway. "Come here!" The dog slinked toward me, occasionally looking back and giving another short "woof." I was always cognizant of the different tones the dog made, since that was his primary job around the place, and he certainly did it well. Reaching down, I scratched him behind his ears all the while looking down the lane where Joshua had gone. He certainly looked angry. Who was in the barn with Bob? Bob's remaining in the barn except for meals and bed was completely normal; his having company out there was not. A sense of curiosity mixed with fear of what was going on in that barn washed over me, so I shushed the dog, told him to stay, and moved on silent feet from the shack to the side of the open doorway to the barn. The hot late morning breeze blew on my brow, underarms, and between my breasts, drying the sweat that gathered there due in equal parts to concern for my husband and fear of getting caught eavesdropping, something I never had cause to do before. Now, though, Bob might need my help, so I pressed my body against the building, feeling its sun-warmed splintery wood through my thin cotton dress. I silently arranged myself so I could hear what the men inside were saying. "...have to be careful about what we all share with old Miller from now on, I think, but just so you know, Bob, his story is the same as all of ours. Here's what happened with Joshua." Not recognizing the deep voice, I stayed as still as possible, straining to hear what the man was saying. "One night I was having a few drinks in the Shade Tree with the good doctor here, and Joshua was pretty drunk and spouting off about his wife, Rebecca's, crazy behavior. Right, Doc?" "Yes, that's right, Judge." I instantly recognized our county's doctor, Doctor Belzer, as the speaker. My mind raced. It could only be Judge Valsted who was being addressed since he was the only judge around these parts, but what in the world was he doing in our barn, and with Doctor Belzer, too? What was going on in there? The judge's deep voice continued, "So I told him that if he was interested, something could be done about her, but that he would have to be willing to follow my advice to the letter." "What's the advice ya gave him?" Bob's voice came to me. He sounded agitated. "I'll get to that in a minute," the judge said. "Anyway, he was eager to listen to my plan and agreed to follow through with all the steps necessary. So that is what he did. He did the same thing with Rebecca that we did with all our crazy wives. Right, guys?" "Yes, the same exact thing," Doctor Belzer said. "Only now, it seems that Joshua might be having second thoughts about what he did. Hmm...I don't like that at all." "Me either, not one bit," the judge said. "But anyway, enough about him. Let's get down to the business at hand." "And what's that, Judge?" Bob asked. I heard a long sigh and scuffling of boots on straw-covered dirt. I tensed. "I'm getting to it, Bob. Just be patient." "Humph! I'm not known to be a patient man and you all know it," Bob said. I heard the other men chuckle before Bob's loud obnoxious laugh drowned them out. He had been drinking this morning. My heart skipped a beat. Doctor Belzer said, "Okay, let's move on for the sake of Bob here and so that we can all get home before lunch. I said my piece already, so let's hear from you, Frank," At Frank Larson's name, the only Frank I knew, I could not help but pull my head back as one would pull away from a coiled rattlesnake, quickly and silently. I recognized this terrible man's loud, raspy voice. "Well, now, it's about time you heard my story, Bob. You know, Sarah wasn't anythin' like ole Doc's wife. Why, if I didn't straighten her out with the back of my hand near every day, nothin' at all would've got done. She was the laziest, dumbest woman I ever did lay eyes on. Stupid thing had to be taught everything under the sun, by God." He loudly slurped something and continued. "Anyhow, she was usually pretty good, not cryin' much or nothing when I was teachin' her things...you know, with the back of my hand or my belt or whatever. Not crying but maybe whimperin' every now and again. She always had the sense, though, to duck or cringe away, even though she was so stupid." "Well, Clara's not stupid, no siree. She's just a smart-mouthed one, she is." I sucked in a quick breath and stopped the urge to step into the barn and confront Bob. I needed to continue eavesdropping so I could find out why they were talking about me. "Then, all the bad started about two years ago," Frank continued. "All of a sudden, ole Sarah started talkin' back to me. Why, she'd become right mean-spirited, I say." Rivulets of perspiration ran down my body, sticking my dress to me. "One day I come in from cuttin' firewood to get some grub, and there she stood with her fists on her hips yappin' about how I was early to lunch and there wasn't no food ready and that it was my fault because I never was any good at huntin' and couldn't rustle her up no meat to cook...only roots and such and a rabbit every now and then." "Good Lord, Frank. Just the facts and make it quick," the judge's deep voice sounded tight. But Frank continued on, "Why, she was fit to be tied that day. I pulled my belt off right then, expectin' her to turn away or crouch down or duck like she usually did, but nope, instead, she just stood there and took it without even flinching. Spookiest thing I ever did see, I'm telling you." Heat coursed through me and my jaw clenched at the casual mention of the abuse. "Okay, okay, Frank. Let's move this along," Doctor Belzer said. "And that's not the end of it neither...she just kept on like that for months. Yellin' at me about nothing at all and taking her punishment all silent and still. The only times she cried out was when she thought I wasn't in hearing distance. Then, I'd hear her yowlin' like a treed lion, I'm telling you. So loud it'd wake the dead. And about nothin' at all, I can tell you that." "Yep. That's just how Clara's been actin' lately," Bob said. I tensed. What was he talking about? I barely breathed. "Lucretia, too, at the end," the judge said. "Stupid woman," Frank continued as though he had not heard the other men, "she was old enough not to be carrying on so, even in private...fifty some odd years old. Hmph! Pitiful, how she went from bein' my Sarah to bein' this crazy loon that I didn't even recognize no more." "Frank, that's enough." Doctor Belzer interrupted. Frank kept right on talking. "So anyhow, Bob, this behavior went on for about a year, and then I got wind of what some other guys had done when this sickness struck their women, and I decided to do somethin' about it. I went to ole Judge here and had her sent away to Whispering Pines. You know, that place where people who's sick in the head go? Yep, took less than one week to get that all taken care of." My mind raced. I must have heard wrong. What were these men talking about? Slowly, this despicable man's words came to me once again: Sarah, crazy, Whispering Pines, other wives, sickness. A whimper arose in my mouth, so I quickly shushed myself, clamping my hand over my mouth. I could barely hear Frank Larson's voice over the roaring in my ears, so I held my breath. "Now, I don't have no worries. Started plumb over with a new one. You know her, Laura, nicest thing you'd ever see. Barely ever makes a peep at all." Finally, he wound down, and I heard him slurp again and then belch loudly, probably to indicate that he had finished his story. I was having trouble making sense of what I was hearing. Was I just dreaming all of this, like those nightmares full of red rage and hate that I had been having lately? Would I wake up soon, drenched in perspiration yet again and have all of this be some awful dream? Somewhere deep inside me, though, I knew this was real, just as real as the spring sun hot upon my cheek. The shuffling of boots came to me, and I startled as one of the men cleared his throat. Even though I knew I should leave, I could not will my feet to move. I needed to hear more, in case they disclosed any other information that might help these poor women. Bob's voice broke through and I concentrated on it rather than on the thoughts that were humming in my brain. I was hopeful and confident that Bob would put these men in their place, kick them off the property as he must have kicked Joshua Miller off earlier, and then report them to the authorities. Upon hearing the loud slurring of Bob's drunken voice, though, I realized that he was probably not in any condition to help at all. Bob said, "Well, those are some interestin' stories, I tell ya. I never really knew what all happened to your wives. Did you send 'em all to that Whisper Pines?" "Whisper-ing Pines," the judge corrected him. "And yes, all of our wives as well as Joshua Miller's wife and as far as I know there have been ten others in the past four or four and a half years." "Ten others? Why, tha's...well...tha's how many?" "A total of fourteen and if I may speak bluntly here, Clara would be the fifteenth," the judge calmly replied. "Fourteen? Are ya all crazy? Somebody's bound to find out about this and get all of you in trouble, don't ya see? I can't be no part of this here," Bob said. My knees suddenly went weak, and I struggled to keep my shaking hand over my mouth to keep from crying out. Was I to be sent to this place, too? The judge said I would be the fifteenth. This just could not be possible. What in the world had I done to make them think I am crazy and need to be locked away? My mind whirled, and although I wanted desperately to run, I kept my wits about me. "We have absolutely nothing to be afraid of, Bob. You see, people around here trust us, and we use Doctor Belzer here as a witness to corroborate what the husbands say about the women. It's a foolproof plan, and nobody in this area has caught on in the past four years, so why would they now?" "I dunno, I guess you're right, Judge. And my Clara's been actin' so strange lately that I don't think nobody would question my actions anyhow. So what goes on to bring this all about?" A dark tunnel surrounded me, and bright spots of light came at me from all sides. The sharp tang of fear mixed in my nose with the scent of the sweat that poured down my face and torso. I was in danger and had to get away from the barn before the men found me and before the darkness engulfing my mind was complete. |