{"id":561,"date":"2011-06-10T03:00:06","date_gmt":"2011-06-10T01:00:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.somethingwicked.co.za\/?p=561"},"modified":"2012-03-02T14:37:02","modified_gmt":"2012-03-02T12:37:02","slug":"phadders-sins","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/somethingwicked.co.za\/magazine\/2011\/06\/10\/phadders-sins\/","title":{"rendered":"Phadder’s Sins"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"by Sean & Craig Davis <\/em><\/h3>\n

<\/p>\n

\n

Billy tried to lick the stinging ache from his fingers. His mind struggled to remember why they hurt. His thoughts wandered with the woody breeze running through his hair and damp earth cooling his feet. He understood one thing: he was free.<\/p>\n

He was searching for something, but just what kept sinking back into the murky depths of his mind. He sniffed the air and then gouged his fingers into the ridged bark of a tree in frustration. Something rumbled ahead.<\/p>\n

He pushed through leafy branches to a clearing where a red, metal box rolled to a stop at the edge of a cliff. Two figures got out and he hid behind a tree to listen.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

The larger figure looked out from the cliff and wrapped its arms around the smaller, like Mama did sometimes. \u201cSee those sleepy lights in the distance, Lisa? That\u2019s home, Pendleton.\u201d The figure pointed to a small dot of light barely visible in the distance. \u201cHanover\u2019s three hundred miles that way.\u201d<\/p>\n

The smaller figure asked, \u201cHow can you be so sure?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy uncle goes every spring for supplies. After the first thaw, you can make it through Jansen\u2019s pass to the lowlands. It doesn\u2019t stay open long, a few weeks tops.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey let him go?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFather Cheswick may scream about the evils of the outsiders from the pulpit, but he realizes Pendleton needs things:\u00a0 Medicine, gasoline, and stuff that can’t be made here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you think it\u2019s like in Hanover? I bet there\u2019s so much to see.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLet’s go and see, Lisa. In a week the pass will be clear to cross. We could get married out there no matter what our parents say.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut they\u2019d never let us come back. What would we do on the Outside?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhatever we want. Together.\u201d The larger figure removed something from around his neck and pulled back his lips, showing teeth. \u201cI have a present for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

These two figures weren\u2019t the object of his hunt so Billy started to slip away, until a glimmer in the pale moonlight pulled him back. Dangling from the figure\u2019s hand, a familiar silvery shape twinkled on a chain.<\/p>\n

The shiny metal cross called out to be touched. He crept forward silently until he could grasp it. It felt cool and welcoming.<\/p>\n

The large figure jumped backwards and yelled in surprise, yanking the trinket out of Billy\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the hell! What are you doing?\u201d The larger shape raised its fists. \u201cWhat are you, a freak?\u201d<\/p>\n

Billy stared in confusion, his gaze still drawn to the cross hanging from the figure\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n

The smaller shape put her hands to her mouth and screamed. The piercing sound clawed its way into Billy\u2019s head, and he held his ears. He barely felt the large figure strike him. But the second blow jerked his jaw up and caused Billy to bite his tongue.<\/p>\n

Pain blossomed deep in his head and he tasted rage. Instinct filled him with the urge to rip and tear – till there was blood.<\/p>\n

Silence reigned once again in the night. Billy sat on the edge of the cliff and watched the silver cross glow in the moonlight, licking his fingers. The memory of what he\u2019d done faded with the salty wetness on his tongue.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Jurgis Wilborn stooped under the front porch awning and pressed a slender finger to the\u00a0 buzzer. He glanced at his wristwatch: two o\u2019clock. His wife should be at the Monday afternoon services, listening to Father Cheswick preach about preserving the purity of Pendleton. The self-proclaimed spiritual leader of the Pendleton would be waving his arms about and screaming \u2018Hellfire<\/em>!\u2019 and \u2018Damnation<\/em>!\u2014words he loved almost as much as his Communion Wine. Jurgis had told his wife he had an appointment with Doc Tobias this afternoon, which he did. He hadn\u2019t lied, exactly<\/p>\n

Maggie\u2019s home was in a sad state. Long curls of baby blue paint flaked off the window and door trim, and dry rot had claimed the bottom porch step. Even the two-seater swing in the east corner of the yard, so white and pristine in his memories, had been claimed by rust. The house, like its owner, needed a man to take care of things – a good man.<\/p>\n

He pushed the buzzer again. Maggie opened the door wide. \u201cOh, it\u2019s you, Jurgis. I figure I know why you came.\u201d Her watered-down blue eyes challenged and condemned him.<\/p>\n

He waited.<\/p>\n

Pursing her lips, she pointed inside to a rocking chair. \u201cCome on in. I wouldn\u2019t want the only judge in Pendleton to get to thinkin\u2019 I wasn\u2019t hospitable.\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded and took a seat. The wooden dowels in the back of the chair dug into his bony spine, but he wouldn\u2019t be here long. His hostess perched on the dark-rose wing chair facing him.<\/p>\n

\u201cI just wanted to say I\u2019d be fair to your boy tomorrow, Maggie. I – \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWill you?\u201d She slid forward to the edge of her seat, gripping the fabric tightly with blanched fingertips. \u201cCan you even be sure he won\u2019t be strung up tonight? The town\u2019s angry, Jurgis.\u201d<\/p>\n

He folded his hands in his lap and tried to meet her stare. \u201cBilly is safe in his cell. Nothin\u2019s going to happen tonight, Maggie. The Law holds sway in Pendleton.\u201d<\/p>\n

She brushed a graying strand of hair out of her face and looked out the front bay window.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Maggie. You don\u2019t deserve this.\u201d She watched the distant, dark clouds crawl across the horizon.<\/p>\n

He followed the contours of her face:\u00a0 the prominent cheeks, the rings under her eyes, and the taut muscles of her jaw. His gaze lingered on the long, furrowed scar running down her cheek; a parting gift from her ex-husband. She\u2019d been so pretty once.<\/p>\n

As if sensing his thoughts, she brushed her fingers across her left cheek.<\/p>\n

\u201cI do deserve this. My sin started all this, but Billy\u2019s going to pay the price.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can\u2019t reverse time, Maggie. I just don\u2019t understand why you let the boy out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe ain\u2019t a boy anymore, Jurgis. Billy is twenty years old, but he\u2019s never been more than a hundred yards from this house until,…\u201d her steely gaze faltered, \u201cthat night.\u201d She ran her hands down her thighs, smoothing out the folds of her cream-yellow dress. \u201cYou never had to hear the child begging to play outside, or try to answer why he couldn\u2019t have any friends.\u201d<\/p>\n

Maggie stood up suddenly and stepped towards the fireplace. She ran her fingers over a black-and-white photograph of her deceased husband on the mantle. \u201cAs bad as Carl was, I still wish that damned fool hadn\u2019t died. If he\u2019d been around\u2026\u201d Her sentence trailed off and hung in the air between them.<\/p>\n

Maggie\u2019s husband had broken his neck in a drunken fight at Chadwick\u2019s bar. Jurgis only regretted he hadn’t had the chance to kill the bastard himself.<\/p>\n

Maggie continued. \u201cSo I let him out, Jurgis. Just once, into the fenced-in backyard. I didn\u2019t think he could climb it. It\u2019s at least ten feet tall.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow did he get over it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe didn\u2019t. He dug underneath it with his bare hands.\u201d<\/p>\n

Maggie strode up to Jurgis until he had to tilt his head up slightly for his eyes to meet hers. A scent like pressed dandelions tickled his memories.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry for what he did to those teenagers. I really am, Jurgis. But don\u2019t you kill my boy, don\u2019t – \u201d Her voice thickened, then stopped. He felt the warmth of a single tear on his cheek.<\/p>\n

She choked out, \u201cHe\u2019s all I got, y\u2019 hear me?\u201d<\/p>\n

He stood and searched for comforting words, or even a soothing lie. Finding none, he squeezed her bunched shoulders until Maggie leaned to rest her head on his chest. He couldn\u2019t hear her crying, but he felt her small shoulders quiver.<\/p>\n

It felt so good to hold her again. A heated flush of shame filled his cheeks. He patted her back a few times, then gently pulled away from her.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll do what I can, Maggie.\u201d<\/p>\n

She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. He considered staying longer, but decided against it. What can I say that will change things?<\/em> From the doorway, he made sure there weren\u2019t any witnesses on the dirt road before he stepped out.<\/p>\n

He got in his blue 1979 Buick, put on his spectacles, and headed off to see Dr. Tobias.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

As he parked in front of the clinic, he waved to Joel Stansby and his ten-year-old son, Dillon. Joel tipped the brim of his straw hat in return, but grimaced as his foot struck the sidewalk.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat foot painin\u2019 you again, Joel?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joel smiled weakly. \u201cMore like it never stops. I\u2019m hoping Doc can give me something to dull the pain.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joel had been born with a clubfoot, but he never let that stop him from working hard and running the hardware store two blocks up. He was a good man. He didn\u2019t deserve the deformity. But who does? We should just be grateful there\u2019s a place for everyone in God\u2019s Plan.<\/em><\/p>\n

After exiting his Buick, he tousled Dillon\u2019s hair. The boy grabbed Jurgis\u2019s hand. \u201cWow, I bet your hand would go totally around a football.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can do better than that, my boy. Watch.\u201d He pulled his index finger back until it touched the top of his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoesn\u2019t it hurt?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joel placed his hand on the middle of his son\u2019s back, \u201cLet\u2019s go in, Dillon, or we\u2019ll be late. Next time I try to get an appointment, Doc will make me wait for three months!\u201d<\/p>\n

Jurgis laughed. \u201cDoc figures he doesn\u2019t have much longer in this world, so he shouldn\u2019t have to waste it on folks that can\u2019t keep time.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jurgis followed Joel into Doc. Tobias\u2019s waiting room and signed the clipboard on the counter in front of the receptionist, Sally Dalton. \u201cGood mornin\u2019, Jurgis. You here for a checkup?\u201d The tip of her tongue lingered, moistening her full lips.<\/p>\n

Lord, give me the strength to resist temptation, and the wisdom to learn from my mistakes. <\/em><\/p>\n

Sally was a fine-looking woman. If it weren\u2019t for missing the bottom half of her right earlobe, she could be a model on the Outside.<\/p>\n

\u201cYep. Just need Doc to check the eyes and the ticker. I\u2019ll find myself a seat.\u201d<\/p>\n

Five minutes later Doc Tobias poked his head out of the door behind Sally and shouted \u201cNext!\u201d Jurgis hastened through the door, but Doc was already at the end of the hallway, tapping his foot impatiently. While scanning a folder, Doc\u2019s frowning face displayed more lines and cracks than the sidewalk in front of his office. Jurgis entered the small examination room and hopped up on the examination table.<\/p>\n

\u201cMind telling me why you waited nine months for this checkup? Didn\u2019t I say you needed one every three months?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, sorry \u2018bout that, Doc, but with Billy Thatcher\u2019s trial and all I – .\u201d<\/p>\n

Doc cut in. \u201cDon\u2019t give me that hogwash! It may work with your wife, but it won\u2019t fly with me, Jurgis Timothy Wilborn.\u201d Doc wagged his finger. \u201cMarfan\u2019s syndrome is serious. At least get your heart checked regular. Your body\u2019s cartilage is weak, so it\u2019d be real easy for your arteries to burst. You got it?\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded humbly. \u201cYes, sir.\u201d Tobias was the oldest man in town at seventy-one, and the only doctor. As the Judge of Pendleton, Jurgis outranked Tobias, but he knew better than to talk back. Doc\u2019s tongue was more brutal than riding bareback through a barbed-wire fence.<\/p>\n

Doc chatted as he checked Jurgis\u2019s blood pressure and listened to his chest with a stethoscope. \u201cDid you know Mitch and Lisa had been planning to leave Pendleton? Sally talked to the boy\u2019s uncle.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jurgis shivered and wondered if the old man had stuck his stethoscope in an icebox. \u201cFather Cheswick wouldn\u2019t have let them come back, Doc. He\u2019d have banished them. Besides, there\u2019s nothing out there for any of Pendleton\u2019s young folk. You know that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Doc palpated the area under Jurgis\u2019s armpits and the sides of his neck. \u201cI do. But there\u2019s not much in<\/em> Pendleton for young folks, either.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s community here. A sense of family. This town\u2019s been around for four hundred years. Family solidarity allowed Pendleton to survive after Holliman\u2019s mine played out, and it will keep us alive now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Doc raised a furry eyebrow. \u201cI\u2019ve been around longer than you. This town needs new blood, no matter what Father Cheswick says. We\u2019re getting a little backward in our ways.\u201d<\/p>\n

Doc went to the shelf and returned with a bottle of tablets. \u201cI want you to start taking these pills twice a day to feed the cartilage in your joints.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jurgis slipped his arms into the long, flapping sleeves of his shirt. \u201cThanks, Doc.\u201d<\/p>\n

Doc began washing his hands in the steel sink. \u201cJurgis, what do you think going\u2019s to happen with the Thatcher boy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a case of murder, Doc. It\u2019s up to the will of the people.\u201d<\/p>\n

Doc nodded and ushered him out to welcome the next patient.<\/p>\n

Jurgis started his Buick and drove toward home through the loose hub of a dozen buildings that made up downtown Pendleton. In the center, the church\u2019s high walls loomed over the surrounding shops and stared down at them. Built generations ago by the townsmen, under the direction of a Cheswick forebear, it stood white and gleaming; as pristine as the day it had first been consecrated as holy ground. The only sign of age was a crack near the front steps, which had zigzagged its way through the foundations over the last few decades. Pendleton didn\u2019t have the equipment to fix it without bringing down the whole church.<\/p>\n

Jurgis waved at each face, folks he\u2019d known his entire life. Like Doctor Tobias, he didn\u2019t agree with Father Cheswick. But like Father Cheswick, he didn\u2019t want his peaceful town to change. The reverend\u2019s edicts were harsh, but Pendleton had followed the traditions for hundreds of years. There hadn\u2019t been a violent crime here for over ten years\u2014until now.
\n\"\"<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

As he pulled up in front of his twenty-acre stretch of land, he heard shouting and saw Laura\u00a0 swinging a broomstick at their Rottweiler, Timber. The dog was backing away with his hackles raised. Jurgis jumped out of the car and sprinted halfway across the lawn. Kevin lay on the ground, clutching his arm to his chest.<\/p>\n

Jurgis charged forward, waving his arms. He yelled \u201cGet<\/em>!\u201d until Timber turned tail and ran out to the field.<\/p>\n

His heart still hammering, Jurgis retreated to check on Kevin. His son\u2019s left forearm had a chunk of flesh missing. \u201cWhat in hell set Timber off?\u201d<\/p>\n

Tear tracks streaked Kevin\u2019s cheeks. Kevin wiped his eyes. \u201cPaw, I got to looking for Timber in the brush. I pushed through the bushes and found him with a wild turkey. I guess I got too close, \u2018cuz Timber snapped at me.\u201d Kevin raised his arm, \u201cI blocked, and he chased me all the way to the house.\u201d<\/p>\n

Laura raised her broom. \u201cI heard Kevin scream and came running.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jurgis knelt to pick up his son and carried him inside to the living room couch. \u201cLaura, get the bandages and antiseptic.\u201d<\/p>\n

In the kitchen he filled a ceramic bowl with warm water and a cloth. He returned to the living room and began gently washing Kevin\u2019s wound.<\/p>\n

His wife returned with the metal red-and-white medicine kit. When she got an eyeful of the wound, she put a hand to her mouth. \u201cIs he going be all right, Jurgis?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t see any muscle, so the bite\u2019s not too deep, and he can still use his hand. He\u2019ll be okay. Just need to stop infection from starting.\u201d<\/p>\n

He removed the cap on a small bottle of peroxide, and held it over the torn skin. \u201cSqueeze my hand, son.\u201d As the clear liquid bubbled inside the wound, Kevin clenched Jurgis\u2019s hand , leaving nail imprints, but he didn\u2019t make a sound. Jurgis squeezed his son\u2019s shoulder twice. \u201cYou\u2019re taking it like a man, son.\u201d Kevin smiled.<\/p>\n

Jurgis pressed some gauze pads to the wound, and wrapped the arm in bandages. He handed the rest of the roll back to his wife and went to his bedroom to get his Remington shotgun. He pulled out a box of shotgun shells from the top drawer of the dresser and tipped out a few cartridges. Shoving them into the breach, he walked past his family towards the front door.<\/p>\n

Kevin cried out, \u201cDad, don\u2019t kill him!\u00a0 It was my fault. He didn\u2019t know no better!\u201d<\/p>\n

He glanced at his wife. When she nodded, Jurgis walked out towards the barn. Each morning Kevin placed the dog\u2019s food there, in a warped clay dish he had made when he was seven.<\/p>\n

He entered the red and white barn and found Timber hiding in the corner with his tail between his legs. The dog whined and rolled onto his back, exposing his belly. Goddamn it! This is my fault.<\/em> For the last two years Timber had developed a foul temper, which Jurgis suspected came from back pain, but he would never have dreamed the dog would turn on his master. Timber loved Kevin.<\/p>\n

A gnawing weight pulled at his stomach. \u201cI know you didn\u2019t mean to, boy; it was just instinct. Is it your fault the way God made you?\u201d Timber\u2019s tail wagged tentatively.<\/p>\n

He sighed and leaned down to scratch Timber\u2019s patch of white chest fur. He talked to the dog and to himself. \u201cI remember when I brought you home as a little pup. Laura didn\u2019t like you sleeping on Kevin\u2019s bed, but I didn\u2019t see any harm.\u201d Timber rolled onto on his stomach. \u201cThat black bear would have killed Kevin if you hadn\u2019t faced off with him. Doc stitched you up good, but there wasn\u2019t anything he could do about your back. I\u2019ve heard you whimpering sometimes.\u201d<\/p>\n

He tried to keep his voice level when he lowered the barrel of the shotgun to the side of Timber\u2019s skull. Slowly he applied pressure to the trigger. Please, don\u2019t let him feel it, Lord.<\/em> Timber stared at him with trusting eyes.<\/p>\n

He just couldn\u2019t do it. Not today. He pulled the barrel up. Exhaling, he eased his finger off the trigger. \u201cStay here, Timber.\u201d He pulled the barn doors shut, and tipped the metal latch lock. He shook his head and walked back to the house. He knew he was shirking his duty. He walked past his wife and son in the kitchen without a word.<\/p>\n

He pulled out his treasured Cherry Wood pipe and a pouch of White Burley tobacco. He turned the pipe sideways to light it and exhaled the smoke in short puffs.<\/p>\n

Outside, the thunder rumbled in agreement with the angry raindrops striking the roof. The storm was finally here. But Jurgis didn\u2019t look out the window. He just kept watching the white rings of smoke expand and disperse as they rose up towards the rafters.
\n\"\"
\nEvery chair\u00a0 in the courtroom was filled . The entire town had shown up for the trial, and every one of them expected him to uphold the law. He met each weighty stare with calm conviction, except for Maggie\u2019s. Instead, Jurgis turned his attention to the only two attorneys in Pendleton.<\/p>\n

The stringy, hawk-nosed George Pliznik shuffled sheets of paper at the Prosecution\u2019s desk, while Wilbert Bentley alternated between smoothing the creases in his rumpled suit and running his fingers through his mustache in the Defendant\u2019s corner. Both looked eager to start. Jurgis swiveled toward Bailiff Reynolds and nodded.<\/p>\n

Jurgis struck the bench with the gavel, and the background buzz of conversation vanished. Bailiff Reynolds called out, \u201cAll be seated!\u00a0 The court of Judge Wilborn is now in session.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jurgis faced the courtroom. \u201cIn the interest of public safety, the defendant Billy Thatcher is waits in his cell. The plea of not guilty by way of insanity has been entered. Prosecutor, you may begin with your opening argument.\u201d<\/p>\n

The prosecutor tugged on his tie, then stood to face the jury. \u201cEsteemed members of the jury, on the night of May 17th, Mitch Summers and Lisa Ivers were found brutally murdered at Nessling\u2019s Point. The next day the defendant, Billy Thatcher, was found covered in blood less than a quarter-mile from the crime scene. It\u2019s been ten years since a crime of this magnitude has sullied our good town. Members of the jury, I ask for a verdict declaring this monster, Billy Thatcher, guilty of murder.\u201d<\/p>\n

As soon as the prosecutor sat down, Mr. Bentley stood and clasped both\u00a0 of his lapels. \u201cWe all feel the loss of Mr. Summers and Ms. Ivers, but I want you to ask yourself: would you vote for the full measure of the Law, if the perpetrator were a child? This is exactly what we have in the mind of Billy Thatcher.\u201d The Defense Attorney paused for dramatic effect, the flesh under his tucked chin spilled out over his collar. \u201cOf course not! In good conscience, we cannot punish this young man for the sad consequences of his birth. Therefore, I beg the jury to find the Billy Thatcher not guilty by way of diminished capacity.\u201d<\/p>\n

The members of the jury watched the lawyers in utter silence. Jurgis pointed to the prosecutor. \u201cMr. Pliznik, please present your evidence.\u201d<\/p>\n

The prosecutor presented into evidence hair and blood samples, as well as a silver cross on a thin mesh chain. Sheriff McGowan was called to the stand. \u201cSheriff McGowan, where were these samples obtained?\u201d<\/p>\n

Sheriff McGowan ran his thumb along his square jaw and spoke slowly. \u201cThey were taken from Billy Thatcher. We found him hiding in the woods with Mitch Summer\u2019s cross in his hand. When we tried to take the silver cross away, he broke Deputy Lars’s arm.\u201d<\/p>\n

The prosecutor paused before asking one final question. \u201cSheriff McGowan, could you describe the state of the crime scene and the bodies when they were found?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe bodies were dismembered and there was blood everywhere.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Prosecutor returned to his seat. The Defense advanced to the stand. \u201cSheriff, when you found Billy Thatcher, what was his mental state?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe was pretty calm when we found him. He was just sitting there looking at the cross, like he was in a trance.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe didn\u2019t run? Or hide? He just sat like a child with a new toy?\u201d<\/p>\n

The Sheriff shook his head from side to side. \u201cNo. He just sat there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo more questions.\u201d The witness returned to the first row of chairs in the courtroom.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe prosecution rests, your Honor.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jurgis motioned to the Defense. \u201cMr. Bentley, please proceed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf I may bring in a piece of audiovisual equipment, your Honor?\u201d Jurgis waved Mr. Bentley on.<\/p>\n

Mr. Bentley exited the courtroom and returned with a slide projector and a canvas screen. Mr. Bentley called Dr. Tobias to the stand. From the deep ridges in his brow, it was clear Doc was not happy about taking time off for an appearance in court. \u201cDr. Tobias, I have gone to considerable effort to have a computerized tomography machine brought in from the Outside, and I have with me the resulting CT scans of Mr. Thatcher\u2019s brain.\u201d A whisper of excited conversation broke out in the courtroom.<\/p>\n

Jurgis declared, \u201cOrder! If you can\u2019t be silent you will be asked to leave my court room.\u201d The talking subsided.<\/p>\n

The defense attorney continued. \u201cYour Honor, can we turn down the lights?\u201d He nodded and the Bailiff complied.<\/p>\n

The screen at the front of the courtroom displayed a picture of a brain. Mr. Bentley pivoted slightly towards Dr. Tobias. \u201cWould you say this brain appears normal to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Dr. Tobias squinted. \u201cCan\u2019t say I\u2019m very familiar with CT scans, but I think it looks ’bout right.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ever the showman, Mr. Bentley wiped his brow and smiled. \u201cWhew, I\u2019m glad to hear that. That one was taken of my own brain. How about this one?\u201d An image of a brain appeared, but this one was incomplete. A black area consumed a quarter of the white matter.<\/p>\n

In the fourth row, Father Cheswick shouted, \u201cGood Lord! That boy has the dark pit of the abyss within him!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFather Cheswick, sit down!\u201d Jurgis said sternly.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour Honor, the Defense asks that Dr. Tobias step out of the witness booth, to explain to the jury what the slides taken of Billy Thatcher mean.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGo ahead, Doc.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dr. Tobias stepped up to the screen and pointed to the bottom of the image. \u201cSee this big black pocket? That\u2019s in the frontal cortex. That\u2019s where man\u2019s conscious thinking lies.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFrom your lifetime of experience as a doctor, Billy\u2019s mental ability to reason and decide right from wrong would be at what level?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe wouldn\u2019t be much more than an animal.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Defense Attorney\u2019s eyes gleamed. \u201cThank you, Doctor.\u201d He turned to the jury. \u201cSo citizens, can we punish Billy Thatcher for a sickness\u2014an abnormality present since his birth?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Bentley let the question hang in the air as he returned to his seat. Jurgis asked if the prosecution wished to ask any questions, but the Prosecutor shook his head. \u201cI reserve the right to recall the witness, your Honor.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Defense called Maggie to the stand. Jurgis\u2019s jaw clenched as she walked around the bench to the witness booth. He avoided her gaze.<\/p>\n

The Defense Attorney continued. \u201cMrs. Thatcher, had you ever let your son out of the house before May 17th?\u201d<\/p>\n

Maggie shook her head. \u201cNo. My boy always stayed in with me. I\u2019m so sorry for what happened, but please don\u2019t punish Billy. I never thought he\u2019d make it through the fence to harm anyone. I shouldn\u2019t have let him out, but he begged me every day. He was so lonely.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo Billy Thatcher had never been out in the world? Never played with other children?\u201d Mr. Bentley patted Maggie on the shoulder. \u201cIt\u2019s hard for me to imagine Billy\u2019s life. His only exposure to the world was through the glass of a tiny window?\u201d<\/p>\n

Maggie rubbed under the collar of her white blouse. \u201cYes. I’m all Billy\u2019s ever had.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Bentley turned toward the jury. \u201cImagine a young boy isolated from other children; never taught how to deal with his fellow human beings…\u201d<\/p>\n

Jurgis said reprovingly, \u201cMr. Bentley, let\u2019s stick to questioning the witness.\u201d Mr. Bentley nodded, and proceeded to ask questions about Billy\u2019s childhood.<\/p>\n

Jurgis peeked at Maggie out of the corner of his eye. He remembered sitting on a swing with her and trying to summon up the courage to kiss her; nervously clasping the back of her head and pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and sweet, like the flesh of the strawberries his mother grew in her garden. The moment was fleeting. He should have noticed the glint of his father\u2019s silver cross; Reverend Wilborn had worn it at every sermon he preached. His father\u2019s open-handed slap rocked his head back. \u2018Boy, what in hell are you doing? You’re blaspheming in front of my very house – in the sight of God!\u2019 At the time, he hadn\u2019t understand why his father had been so mad, or why he kicked Jurgis out of the house. Now he did.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour Honor?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jurgis snapped back to the present. \u201cNo more questions for this witness. I would like to call up the accused, Billy Thatcher.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Prosecutor\u2019s bony face was so pinched it looked like someone had peed in his lemonade. \u201cObjection!\u00a0 The public\u2019s safety must be protected.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Defense responded, \u201cThe jury has the right to assess the defendant\u2019s mental capacity and the accused has the right to speak in his defense.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jurgis rubbed his chin thoughtfully. \u201cI\u2019ll allow it. Bring him in.\u201d<\/p>\n

Billy Thatcher was brought forward in chains, escorted by three bailiffs. Billy\u2019s face appeared scrunched from top to bottom; the brow pushed down until his eyes protruded like a crab\u2019s. His massive lower jaw stuck out in a hideous underbite, leaving his lower canines exposed. A fat, lolling tongue drooped over the teeth, glistening with saliva. His entire body was covered with thick white fur except for his fingers, which were chalk-colored claws.<\/p>\n

The creature faced him and Jurgis was stunned by the sight of the abomination. He should have asked Maggie to see the boy when he was born, but he\u2019d been so ashamed.<\/p>\n

A roar erupted from the creature, \u201cPhadder!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

With the clunk of broken chains, Billy thrust the bailiffs aside and rushed toward the bench where Jurgis sat.<\/p>\n

Standing at the corner of the witness box, Bailiff Reynolds tried to intercept. Billy whipped several taloned fingers across the bailiff\u2019s throat. The witness booth and back wall were sprayed with a gush of arterial blood. Jurgis stumbled backwards out of his seat as the creature started to climb the bench.<\/p>\n

Two bailiffs and Sheriff McGowan tackled Billy from behind. They struck him with clubs until the creature\u2019s arms could be brought behind his back and manacled.<\/p>\n

Jurgis smoothed his robes and calmed his breathing. \u201cDr. Tobias, attend to Bailiff Reynolds. Constable, take Mr. Thatcher back to his cell. Mr. Bentley, you will have to make do without the defendant\u2019s testimony.\u201d Sheriff McGowan helped the two bailiffs force the monster out the side door and back to his cell.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow is he, Doc?\u201d<\/p>\n

Dr. Tobias pressed hard on a makeshift bandage on the Bailiff\u2019s neck. \u201cHe\u2019s lost a lot of blood. I\u2019ll do what I can.\u201d Doc turned his head to the fourth row of seats. \u201cSally, come here. I need you to get a sheet to carry him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jurgis watched the injured man be carried outside, then his eyes swept the courtroom. One more death on my hands.<\/em> \u201cWe\u2019ll take an hour’s recess. Let\u2019s get this done, people.\u201d
\n\"\"
\nJurgis sipped a glass of water as the trial resumed in the stuffy courtroom. He squeezed his knuckles below the bench. \u201cEveryone take your seats.\u201d He barely heard the attorneys speed through their closing arguments.<\/p>\n

Jurgis faced the jury. \u201cMembers of the jury, deliberate carefully upon the evidence presented. Foreman, speak to Sheriff McGowan when the jury\u2019s decision is reached.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ten minutes later, the jury returned. The Foreman stood waiting for his cue.<\/p>\n

Jurgis knew the decision, but protocol demanded he ask anyway. \u201cWhat is the jury\u2019s decision?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGuilty, your Honor.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Law was clear: blood for blood.<\/p>\n

Maggie stood up and pointed. \u201cJurgis, don\u2019t you do it!\u00a0 I\u2019ll never forgive you!\u201d Her blouse opened slightly and Jurgis saw the silver cross around her neck. He was glad their father had given it to her. He didn\u2019t deserve it. He just wished his sister had kept the Wilborn name.<\/p>\n

Solemnly, he faced the court. \u201cBailiffs, bring in the condemned.\u201d Two bailiffs pulled Billy Thatcher from the back room. This time, the creature was doubly chained, but Billy didn\u2019t resist when he was forced to kneel over the witness booth.<\/p>\n

Jurgis removed a black silk hood from a pocket under his robes. Billy Thatcher\u2019s eyes, the only truly human part of him, met Jurgis\u2019s. Did the boy know? Did Billy realize what was about to occur? <\/span><\/p>\n

In those umber eyes, he saw understanding –\u00a0 and acceptance. A hollowness filled his chest as he slipped the hood over Billy\u2019s head.<\/p>\n

He turned to the wall behind the judge\u2019s bench. Two metal brackets held the four-hundred-year old ceremonial axe. He had wielded the weapon only twice during his term, but the long, steel shaft was coldly familiar in his hands. He hoisted the axe on his shoulder and moved to stand over Billy.<\/p>\n

His raised voice reverberated in the large room. \u201cThe Will of the people is clear. The Law is clear.\u201d However, his heart felt anything but clear.<\/p>\n

His eyes connected with those of the waiting community, binding them in the decision to enforce Pendleton\u2019s Law. He saw the bartender Churls, the fingers of his right hand webbed together so badly it might as well be a pincer. Nurse Fairfield, her throat swelled with a goiter the size of a cantaloupe. The plumber, Staggs, staring at Jurgis with his queer four-pupilled eyes.<\/p>\n

These people were his family, and he\u2019d felt proud to serve them. Yet, over the generations had his people, the citizens of Pendleton, lost their way? Did the blame for this monster\u2019s creation lie with all of Pendleton – or just the father?<\/p>\n

He placed his hand tenderly on Billy\u2019s head. His ears detected an animal-like snuffling under the hood. I wonder if he knows how to cry?<\/em> <\/span><\/p>\n

He whispered, \u201cIt\u2019s not your fault, son.\u201d<\/p>\n

The fall of the axe was quick. The wood of the witness booth stopped the cut. One more scar in the aging wood; One more sin on our souls.<\/em> He heard Billy\u2019s head rolling softly across the floor, but he couldn\u2019t look at it.<\/p>\n

The townspeople stood in silence, and then filed out of the courtroom to continue with their lives. The Sheriff and one of the bailiffs removed the body for the rite of fire to occur later that night. He stared at the axe in his hands. The blade had cleaved so effortlessly through the twenty years of his son\u2019s life; a life devoid of all but a mother\u2019s love.<\/p>\n

Sheriff McGowan returned from the back room and nodded to him. \u201cYou did what was proper, Judge. That boy was an animal, plain and simple.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jurgis’s lips puckered in distaste. He handed the bloody axe to the Sheriff and walked outside. The Sheriff could clean it and the bloody floor \u2014 his part was done. Overhead, the sky still threatened rain.
\n\"\"
\nAs Jurgis drove, he petted Timber sitting on the passenger seat. The dog\u2019s tail wagged and its wide tongue drooped out of its mouth. His eyes flicked to the shotgun in the backseat. The Buick approached a deserted edge of forest several miles from Pendleton. He stopped the car, got out, and opened the trunk. He removed a packaged hunk of pork loin and tossed it on the grass. \u201cGo get it, Timber!\u201d<\/p>\n

Timber\u2019s nervousness disappeared as the dog jumped out of the car to wolf the meat down. From his trouser pocket, Jurgis pulled out a tattered rope chew-toy. When Timber finished his meal, Jurgis thumped the knotted end of the rope on the ground twice. \u201cC\u2019mon boy!\u201d<\/p>\n

Timber lunged forward and gripped the rope in his jaws, shaking it from side to side. The Rottweiler\u2019s tail was a happy blur of wagging.<\/p>\n

He laughed. The dog looked so content with a simple piece of rope. After a few minutes pulling on the toy, Jurgis released the rope and chuckled as the dog thrashed it in the air. He kneeled and scratched Timber\u2019s chest\u00a0 until the dog started thumping the ground with his rear paw.<\/p>\n

Pent-up tears fell from Jurgis\u2019s eyes. He wiped at them with his sleeve, and then rose to stand. Timber continued to throw the rope into the air and playfully pounce on it. Jurgis took the shotgun out of the backseat and stood next to the dog.<\/p>\n

He took a deep breath. I\u2019m sorry, Lord. Forgive me.<\/em> <\/span><\/p>\n

He pointed the weapon and fired.<\/p>\n

The sound of the shotgun cut through the tranquility of the forest like a sinful blade.<\/p>\n

Cowering\u00a0 amongst the trees Timber\u2019s canine eyes questioned him., Timber started to trot back uncertainly towards his master until Jurgis fired again up into the clear blue sky. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, boy, but you need to be where you belong.\u201d Jurgis closed his eyes for a moment. \u201cI just wish there\u2019d been a place for Billy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Timber\u2019s eyes followed Jurgis while he got into the Buick and drove back to town.<\/p>\n

\n
Copyright \u00a9 2010 by Sean & Craig Davis
\nIllustrations \u00a9 2010 by Vincent Sammy
\nOriginally published in Something Wicked Issue 10<\/h5>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Sean Davis is a thirty-eight-year-old physical therapist living in Jackson, Tennessee.<\/em>
\nCraig Davis is a thirty-six year old mechanical engineer living in Raleigh, North Carolina. The two brothers have had their stories published in <\/em>Theaker\u2019s Quarterly Fiction, <\/em>Trail of Indiscretion magazine, and <\/em>Tabloid Purposes IV horror anthology.<\/em><\/p>\n


\n<\/em><\/p>\n

\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

By Sean & Craig Davis<\/h3>\n\n\n
\n

Billy tried to lick the stinging ache from his fingers. His mind struggled to remember why they hurt. His thoughts wandered with the woody breeze running through his hair and damp earth cooling his feet. He understood one thing: he was free.<\/p>\n

He was searching for something, but just what kept sinking back into the murky depths of his mind. He sniffed the air and then gouged his fingers into the ridged bark of a tree in frustration. Something rumbled ahead.<\/p>\n

He pushed through leafy branches to a clearing where a red, metal box rolled to a stop at the edge of a cliff. Two figures got out and he hid behind a tree to listen.<\/p>\n<\/td>\n

\n

\"Something
\n <\/a>Published in
\n Something Wicked Issue 10<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

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