Corn Silk Days Part 9

It had happened. She had been raped and beaten by one of her students.

She dropped her head to the floor and lie staring up at the ceiling for several minutes. She tried to clear her mind of the horror she had just suffered but she was unable to do so.

She pulled herself up into a sitting position. Her head pounded as she sat upright and every muscle in her body ached as she moved. She straightened the material of her clothing and pulled her legs up to her chest. She rested her head on her knees, and cried. At first, only tears, but soon her body was racked with deep sobs.

She had no idea how long she cried. It may have been only minutes or an hour. Lost in the emotional trauma and shock of what she had gone through, it was only the footsteps on the porch stairs outside that brought her to the reality of the moment.

The sound of approaching footsteps threw her into a panic. She knew she must run but she could not move. She watched the door, frightened nearly out of her mind as to who was about to open it. Her heart seemed to stop and she held her breath as she heard the door handle turn.

The rap on the door came at the same time that the familiar voice of Benjamin called out, "Lucinda?" The door swung open and Benjamin stepped inside the schoolhouse.

He halted in mid-stride as he saw her. "Oh, my G.o.d!"

Swiftly he was at her side on his knees. He gently took her into his arms. "Who did this to you! Who!"

She was sobbing so hard that she could not speak.

Benjamin had left Lucinda in the care of Doctor Northland and his wife with a promise that he would return after his visit with Sheriff Franklin. It had been his intention to go straight to the sheriff to report the rape. But instead, Benjamin went on a manhunt.

His first stop was the home of the Karns in town. He'd had little trouble getting directions to the house. Apparently the Karns were well-known. They owned a tailor shop and their living quarters were above the shop. John Karns, a middle-aged man with a friendly face, greeted him warmly as he entered the tailor shop. He informed Benjamin that he did not know his son's whereabouts. Thomas had been expected home some time ago but had not returned from school. Julie Karns, a nervous and fidgety woman, backed up her husband's statement. She was obviously concerned over the fact that her son had not come home when expected.

Benjamin said to the couple, "I'm afraid your son is in serious trouble. You tell him he needs to see the sheriff right away."

Mr. Karns, alarmed, asked, "What do you mean? What kind of trouble?"

Benjamin said, "He attacked Mrs. Garrison."

"Attacked! What?" Karns face showed disbelief and dismay.

Julie Karns's hand flew to cover her mouth. She remained silent but her brown eyes revealed shock.

Benjamin felt sorry for the boy's parents but they had to know the truth. He said, "He raped and beat her at the schoolhouse."

"Mr. Storm, I don't know what you are saying but our son would never-"

Benjamin interrupted, "Mr. Karns, I'm sorry but your son did this to Mrs. Garrison. It will be best if he immediately turns himself in to the sheriff."

"There's got to be a mistake," Karns insisted. "Tommy would not rape!"

Benjamin told him coldly, "You let him tell that to the sheriff."

Karns pointed to a framed family photograph hanging on the wall. "Look at our son. Does he look like a criminal?"

Benjamin ignored his question. But the face staring out from the photograph made him angry. Thomas wore an insolent expression-eyes cold and a slight curl to the lip-almost a mocking look. This was not a child. This was a young man, obviously a troubled young man who made a serious mistake. And it would be one he would pay for, and Benjamin would see to it.

Julie Karns spoke up. "How is she?"

Benjamin fought to keep his anger hidden. He replied to her apparent concern, "She's with Doc Northland. She's suffered a horrible trauma."

Julie Karns said, "I'm so sorry." John Karns shot his wife an irritated look.

He said, "Tommy couldn't have done this!"

Benjamin ignored John Karns's statement and replied to Julie Karns. "We all are, Mrs. Karns."

John Karns insisted, "There's some mistake!"

Benjamin could not blame these parents for the sins of their son, he knew that, but he wanted out of here. He said, "No mistake, Mr. Karns." He knew all he wanted to know about Thomas Karns and it had nothing to do with parents who were in denial that their child could have done something so terrible.

Benjamin left the Karns's tailor shop shortly thereafter. He now knew the face of the animal he was on the hunt for. As he walked away from the tailor shop, he was determined he would find Thomas Karns if it took all night.

Before the sun had dropped to the western horizon Benjamin found his prey. About to mount his horse and ride to the outskirts of town, he spotted Thomas Karns hurriedly exiting the bank building.

Benjamin yelled out, "Thomas Karns!"

Karns turned toward Benjamin with a panicked look and broke into a run. In his hand he carried what appeared to be a money pouch. He ran around the corner of the building and was moving up the narrow alleyway between buildings to the back street.

There was immediate chaos on the street as several people ran out of the bank. One of the men yelled, "We've been robbed! Get the sheriff!"

Benjamin moved fast, running as hard as his lame leg would allow. He bounded down the alleyway and came out on the next street. His eyes scanned the area and he caught sight of Thomas Karns as he ran across an open field behind the buildings. Karns stumbled and fell, giving Benjamin a gain on him. He was on his feet again with Benjamin not far behind. As Karns ran into a stand of trees Benjamin momentarily lost sight of him but the sound of branches and leaves under crunching footsteps kept Benjamin close on his trail.

The underbrush thickened, obviously slowing the pursuit, but it also slowed Thomas Karns. Benjamin, with a keen ear trained by years of hunting seasons, knew his prey was close by. He could hear the labored breathing of the boy. He moved cautiously closer to the spot where he knew Thomas Karns was hiding. Even with his caution, he did not expect to be confronted by a young man with wild eyes, brandis.h.i.+ng a knife. Karns lunged at him and Benjamin side-stepped the attack, throwing Karns off balance. He quickly regained his balance and came face to face with Benjamin.

"Drop the knife, Thomas!"

Thomas Karns, a tall muscular youth, stared with hard dark eyes at Benjamin. He had nothing on Benjamin, and Benjamin knew it. He was as fit as this kid and even though Karns had a knife, Benjamin had more experience on his side.

"I said drop it!"

Karns said, "f.u.c.k you!" He lunged at Benjamin swiping the knife as he did so.

Benjamin whirled and caught Thomas's arm as it swept by him. He swiftly and skillfully twisted the arm up behind Thomas's back, avoiding the knife blade. Thomas yelled out in pain as Benjamin put more pressure on the arm. The knife fell to the ground and Benjamin released the hold and backed away. He glared at Thomas. Apparently Thomas was not about to surrender.

And surrender was not what Benjamin wanted.

Benjamin challenged him, "Now let's see how big a man you are, a.s.shole."

That was all it took for Thomas to charge forward. Benjamin skillfully blocked the first punch and landed one of his own. Thomas staggered but came back swinging. Every punch that Benjamin threw, he threw for Lucinda. All the anger that he had held in all afternoon now had the opportunity to be expressed and he expressed it well with each punch.

Benjamin had lost track of the knife in the scuffle but as they rolled on the ground he saw the flash of the blade coming at him. He grabbed Thomas's wrist but the blade slashed across his shoulder as he twisted away from it. He flipped Thomas off and rolled away and drew himself quickly to his feet. Thomas, still holding the knife, sprung to his feet and lunged again. Benjamin caught Thomas's arm in mid-air and raised it high. They scuffled and fell again to the ground. Benjamin moved fast, pinning Thomas to the ground and forcing him to release the knife. Benjamin now had his prey under control but not his anger. He continued to punch hard, and when he finally stopped, Thomas Karns was bloodied and unconscious.

Benjamin, exhausted, rose to his feet and stood over Karns. "You dirty a.s.shole!"

Benjamin took off his belt, rolled the unconscious youth onto his stomach and tied his hands behind his back.

Benjamin searched through the underbrush until he found the bank pouch. He picked it up, turned away and walked through the trees, across the field to Main Street. He was hurting, now aware of the bleeding knife slash on his shoulder, but he was not hurting as much as Thomas Karns.

Thomas Karns never regained consciousness. He died early the next morning.

Due to the fact that Thomas Karns was only a seventeen-year-old youth, many of the town folk of Marshalltown were upset and outraged at his beating death.

The political pressure generated by the community outrage forced Sheriff Franklin to make an arrest. Benjamin Storm was charged with second degree murder.

The murder charge brought additional outrage to the town. The diversity of thought about the meaning of justice would bring a division between the town folk. The headlines of the town newspaper that week read: Story County Man Arrested in Beating Death of Marshalltown Youth. Those who chose not to read beyond the headline failed to have the full story.

For some, it seemed not to matter that Thomas Karns had a.s.saulted and raped his school teacher and then robbed the Mercantile Bank in an apparent strategy to take flight. Some who knew the Karns family would say, as John Karns had said to Benjamin, that the boy was not capable of rape, and was believed to have been a fine young man with a bright future.

Within hours of the news, rumors began to circulate around town. One of the most disdainful and damaging was that the beautiful Lucinda Garrison was a lonely war widow who had enticed her young student into an illicit affair. Although the gossip-mongers did not know of the past love affair between Benjamin Storm and Lucinda Brown Garrison, they theorized that the lonely school teacher was also having an affair with Benjamin Storm and that Benjamin had discovered the infidelity of his lover and threatened to expose Thomas Karns, thus the reason for Thomas's need to take flight and avoid humiliation. The sensationalized scenario did not stop there.

It was said that Benjamin Storm had killed the young Karns in a jealous rage.

Chapter Eleven: Michael.

"I can't believe that Benjamin got himself into this mess!" Michael said angrily. "The d.a.m.n kid is always bringing trouble. Now he's killed a young kid. I can't believe it. Maybe he should rot in jail!"

A few minutes earlier Alexander had arrived at the lumber mill, shortly after hearing the news of Benjamin's arrest. He had hoped to get to Michael before he heard the news from others. Michael had not heard and was sawing lumber out in the lumber yard when Alexander arrived. The smell of saw dust was pungent, but not as biting as Michael's anger.

Alexander was patient as he allowed his son to blow off steam. When it appeared Michael calmed some, Alexander said, "Now Michael, don't be so harsh on him. From what we've heard he didn't mean for the boy to die."

"d.a.m.n! How do we know that?" he said with a grating edge to his voice.

"I know," Alexander replied with resolve. "Benjamin did what he felt he had to do. This Karns kid attacked and raped Lucinda and robbed the bank. You'd have gone after the Karns boy, too."

"But he killed the kid, Pap!"

"They say he was coming at Benjamin with a knife." Alexander twisted the end of his moustache between his long, thin fingers. He looked Michael straight in the eyes. "So just calm down. He'll get through this."

"He's good at disrupting our lives, again and again," Michael said with disgust. "He must enjoy bringing shame on this family. When is it going to stop?"

"You've never forgiven him, have you?" he said with a vague hint of disapproval.

Michael studied his father's face, and saw there as he always did, wisdom and knowledge. And he also saw compa.s.sion, something he knew often lacked within himself. His father was right, more right than he probably knew. He hoped that Alexander was speaking only of the confrontation with Reverend Winter and Benjamin's decision to run instead of facing responsibility as he should have, and nothing more. Michael said quietly, "I suppose not."

Alexander sighed deeply. "Well, it's time you did. He's a grown man now and you can't hold over him the mistakes he made when he was a young man.

"How the h.e.l.l do I know that he wasn't drinking when this happened?"

"You won't know until you ask him but n.o.body has said he was drinking."

"I ain't going."

Alexander was quiet only a moment before he said, "Well, Michael, then stay home. I'm leaving in the early morning and taking my pocketbook with me. I'm gonna get my grandson outta that jail cell."

Michael's jaw muscles tightened and untightened. "Do what you gotta do. I have to get back to work. I've got lumber to mill before the day is over." He turned away and went back to sawing lumber.

It was a little after four o'clock when Michael closed up the mill and started for home. As he walked across the gra.s.sy field toward his house he was dreading having to tell Rachel the news of their son's arrest. Word of Benjamin's arrest would spread fast from Marshall County to Story County and he had to tell her before she heard it from someone else.

Working hard in the lumber mill over the years had toughened him to most things in life. But when it came to personal issues such as his son, Benjamin, Rachel had often accused him of being indifferent and cold, and although he would not admit it to his wife, she was probably right. There were some personal issues and feelings he would rather keep to himself.

He usually considered himself to be a lucky man despite the difficult childhood he had endured due to the mental illness of his mother, Sally, and her emotional separation from him. For a number of years while growing up, he had resented her "absence" but as a young teenager came to understand that she could not rescue herself from the self-imposed prison she lived in. When the day came that she committed suicide he was not surprised by her actions. She had been desperately unhappy and unstable for years. He soon came to realize that she had to escape her broken mind and heart-and it was the only escape she knew.

Even though he had been young he was aware of his father, Alexander's grief and loneliness. He also knew his father worked hard to make life better for his brother Valentine and him.

Despite that understanding, Michael battled his own demons during those early years. He had vowed he would never have children of his own. He had vivid memories of his young brother and sister as their little bodies were overcome with the fever, watching helplessly as life suddenly and rapidly drained away. And then, as a result of their deaths, he watched the life-force drain from his mother. She was never the same from that time forward. So Michael had been angry-angry at G.o.d for taking the little children away, and angry at G.o.d for taking the love and care of his mother away.

One dark, cloudy day he had stood beside the graves of his little brother and sister and yelled out to G.o.d, "You will never do this to me!" He had dropped to his knees and swore at G.o.d between his sobs of grief, and made a promise to himself that he would never have children and have to suffer the loss of them.

Michael had never told anyone about his rage at G.o.d and the vow he made that day, but he never forgot it.

It was because of that vow that he turned away from the woman he loved and risked losing her. He had met Rachel Fidler when he was nineteen. She was a year younger, pretty, and a bit shy. She had recently moved to Story County and worked at the dry goods store for Mr. and Mrs. Applebey, her aunt and uncle. What started out as a comfortable friends.h.i.+p between the young couple soon led to something much deeper. They fell in love.

That fact caused a real dilemma for Michael. As much as he loved Rachel, he believed in all fairness to her he could not marry her. He did not want children and could not take the chance of having them. And, of course, Rachel wanted a family.

When he told Rachel that he could not marry her she was heartbroken. He stopped seeing her for several weeks and during that time did some very deep soul searching. It was only after another visit to the graves of his mother and siblings that he made peace with G.o.d, and with himself.

He married Rachel the following month. In less than two years their first child was born, a daughter, Anne. Eighteen months later, Benjamin came into the world, followed by Silas, and then another son, Henry.

Henry. Oh, Henry.

Michael felt his shoulder and back muscles tighten as he thought of Henry.

Henry was barely six when it happened, and again Michael's faith had been put to the test.

The old swimming hole.

Michael hadn't thought about it for a long time. Somehow over the years he had managed to stuff away the memories of that horrific warm spring day and the drowning of his youngest son.

Henry's death brought up the old grief and fear issues for Michael as if the grief of losing their son wasn't enough. It also brought up issues of his lack of responsibility as a father. Men were supposed to protect, weren't they? As far as he knew, that was a primal instinct. Protect and control the world and everything in it.

In the months following the accidental drowning of Henry, Michael struggled very hard with personal blame, and it was only after a long and hard talk with his father, Alexander, that he was able to see the light and absolve himself of the imagined responsibility for Henry's death. When he came to that understanding with his father's help, it was as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. And G.o.d's shoulders, too, because as he had done in the early years, he had again been angry at G.o.d.

But in the absolution of G.o.d and himself, Michael laid some of the blame of his son's drowning on someone else. Echoes of that, as irrational as it was, still remained with him. Right now he had no anger at G.o.d. His anger was at Benjamin.

He thought about what Alexander had said to him earlier, you've never forgiven him. He wondered if Alexander had been speaking of the confrontation of Benjamin and Reverend Winter and Benjamin's failure to face his responsibility for a child. Or was it the drowning? Did his father know he placed blame on Benjamin? Right now, it didn't matter what his father thought. He was not willing to forgive Benjamin for anything.

Michael was sure that Rachel would not take the news well. It seemed their son had too often caused them grief of one kind or another. When Benjamin was gone the five years, his wife worried constantly. One day she'd convince herself he was dead, and then the next day would be angry over his disappearance. For five years they did not know where their son was or even if he was alive.

Since his return, Benjamin's drinking bothered his mother greatly. What Rachel didn't know was the drinking had started long ago. It bothered Michael, too, but he seemed to be able to ignore it. Rachel could not. She was deeply religious, very strict in her outlook and led the women's temperance group at church. She had no patience or allowance for her son's excessive drinking.

Michael wondered, as he often had, why Benjamin could not be more like his other children. Of the boys, Silas had been the easiest one to raise and as a result probably his favorite, along with his daughter, Anne, a fact he hoped he concealed well from the others, but Rachel was a perceptive woman and she had always known how he felt about his children. She was a good Christian woman and her love somehow made up for, or at least lessened, the loss Michael had suffered so deeply as a child.

Michael considered as he walked up the steps to his porch, maybe Alexander was correct in saying that Benjamin had not been drinking. If that were so, Rachel would be more supportive of their son. And if she was, then he knew a clash would be on between him and his wife.