Chapter 3

Life went pretty much back to normal. Halloween came and went. We never have any trick or treaters out here at the farm. Then about the second week of November as I walked into the equipment shed, I noticed everyone got quiet. Normally this time of year everyone is talking about deer season coming up and where they are going to hunt. Not today. Ronald asked if Tim Poff was a friend of mine. I told him we were good friends all through high school and college. He went to State with me, but he had majored in forestry, so he lived in a different dorm. But why the question?

“He was murdered last night” replied Ronald.

How, where, who, why, all flashed through my mind as I found a chair and sat down.

Ronald told me that Tim had picked up Becky (his little sister) from work at the diner and while driving her home he had a flat tire. He was trying to get one of the lug nuts off when another car with 4 men had stopped to help. When the men started to harass Becky, Tim stepped in to protect her. One of the men hit him on the back of the head with the lug wrench. It killed him instantly. They put Becky in their car and took her to their trailer and raped her. When a neighbor walking his dog heard her screaming, he called the police. They came and arrested the men and took Becky to the hospital in town. That was all he knew.

I told them to finish cleaning the equipment. I was going to the hospital.

As I passed the sheriff’s office, I noticed a crowd of people gathering. They looked angry. I arrived at the hospital and immediately saw Becky’s mom and dad standing in the lobby. They were both very upset and I knew no words would comfort them, but I had to say something.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Poff, I heard what happened and I am so sorry about Tim. How is Becky?”

I hugged the mom and shook hands with her dad. Mrs. Poff started crying and said Becky was severely beaten. She said Becky was so badly upset that she would not let her dad in the room with her. It seems when she sees a man she has some type of panic attack. The hospital had called in a female doctor to treat her. Ginger (Becky’s best friend since the third grade) was with her now and she seems calmer. As she was telling me all this a female doctor walked up and asked to speak to her and Mr. Poff alone. Mr. Poff said she could talk in front of me.

This doctor did not know me, she had been called in from another nearby town because Becky would not let a male doctor attend to her. She turns her head like she is examining my war wounds. She was looking at the scars on the side of my head, my half ear and the eye patch.

“What happened to you?” she asks.

“Gook mortar” I answer. (Yeah, I know not P.C. but I have walked around for over 50 years like this. I will call them whatever I damn want. Gooks, dinks, slopes. All the same to me).

She looks me directly in my one eye and says, “You were lucky, one of my brothers not so much. He died at Khe Sanh.” Then to Becky’s parents she says, “Becky has no permanent damage, a few loose teeth a couple of black eyes and a broken nose. She has bite marks on her neck and both breasts but nothing that will not heal up. I have set her nose so when you see her, she will have tape over her face. Do not be alarmed, she will heal and you will not be able to tell her nose was ever broken. But I am worried about her mental state. She is going to need therapy. It will help her cope, but I want you to know it may take months. She is sleeping now and I suggest you let her rest. Her friend, Ginger, is with her and she seems more at ease with her than anyone else.”