Chapter 5

October 20, 1847

I grabbed hold of my rage and held it down. I had to think about where Michael might be. He was recommended by the Methodist parson so I'm going to his home first to see if he has any idea of where the bastard might be hiding. The word is beginning to spread about the assault. I must look ready to kill, because people are getting out of my way as I walk. The sheriff came up and looked like he wanted to say something but I ignored him. Right now I don't care about laws, I just want to kill the bastard and make him suffer like Elizabeth has.

I went to the parson's house and was told by his wife that he had been called away by a congregant. I must have had a vicious look on my face because she barely opened the door and shut it quickly after she answered. I checked the Methodist church first since I thought that's where he would take someone. When I got there I saw the parson talking to someone by the pulpit. Normally I wouldn't interrupt a conversation like that between a minister and someone else, but now I didn't care about anyone else's pain. I went forward to demand he tell me where to find Michael. When I got closer I saw that he was the one talking to the parson. He was sobbing as the parson spoke to him. I saw that he had a broken arm and scratches on his face and arms and hoped that he had more injuries caused by Elizabeth. I was filled with a rage that I could only call demonic and pulled my gun intending to make him suffer before I killed him. I was going to shoot him in both knees and then his elbows and finally shoot his balls off before I killed him. He would beg for death. Quietly I came forward to shoot him as he was sitting there. The parson saw me and quickly moved to get between Michael and me. I didn't want to shoot the parson, even though I was mad at him recommending Michael in the first place, he had nothing to do with the bastard raping Elizabeth.

"You bastard, you raped my wife!" I screamed and tried to get around the parson. The parson was brave, I have to admit. If he had moved enough for me to shoot, the bastard would have been dead. He kept moving in front of me so I didn't have a clear shot. Finally I shoved him out of the way and he fell but still managed to cover Michael with his body as he did. "Why are you protecting that damn rapist!" I cried.

"I'm not protecting him, I'm protecting you!" he shouted back. "He's unarmed!"

I was still ready to kill him, but his words and actions had delayed me until it penetrated enough so that I began to think again. "Has he told you what he did to my wife? He beat her until she may lose the baby and then raped her as she lay there unconscious. And you still want to protect the son of a bitch?"

"He told me and I will so testify in court. I have told him he needs to turn himself in to the sheriff and confess." He looked sad, "It's the demon whiskey again. He was drunk and took out his frustrations about his life on your wife."

"I don't care what his excuse is! He's dead! Either I'll kill him now or I'll kill him later, but he's dead!"

"Let the sheriff and the law handle him. Don't imperil your immortal soul by taking revenge yourself!"

By this time I was beginning to think again. If I killed him here in the church, what would the reaction of the people here be? I didn't want him to live but if the law would kill him, then I would let it. If not, then I would take care of him.

"If you'll promise on your soul that you'll testify, I'll let him live. But I'm taking him into the sheriff!" I reached over and grabbed Michael by the shoulder pinching a nerve, "Get up, you sorry bastard!" I grabbed some prayer books and tore out the page marker cord from them. Throwing him on his face I pulled the broken arm to the back with the other arm and tied his hands together and then tied them to his neck, ignoring his howls of pain. Pulling up by his hair, I made him rise to his feet. Sticking my face into his, I told him, "I'm going to let you walk to the sheriff's office on your own. You run, I'll shoot you like I would any other rabid dog. Please try to run."

The parson said, "I'll go with you. He needs the spiritual support."

I grinned a mirthless smile, "Besides you want to be sure he gets there alive."

We soon gathered a following as we went through town. Michael in the lead with the parson to the side and me behind with my gun drawn and pointing at his back. The story had already started circulating around town about what had happened to Elizabeth and the mob began to become unruly. Comments came from the crowd, "Why bother with a trial? Everybody here can see he's guilty." "Hang him now!" "Hang him!"

Without turning my head I spoke to the parson, "Parson, it's your town. As far as I'm concerned they can have him."

"Just walk with us to the sheriff, I won't ask you to defend him."

We walked a couple of blocks further and got to the sheriff's office where we walked in, Michael, the parson and I. He looked at Michael and nodded, as if he had expected it to be something else. Looking at me he asked, "You do the damage?"

"No, my wife did when he raped her!"

"Heard about you from the sheriff in Oregon City. Said you were a killer. Thought I'd see Michael's body brought in and you running, not him walking in alive."

"You almost did. If the parson hadn't said he was unarmed and he'd go to trial, he would have been dead."

"Almosts don't count. He's here alive. I guess you might be more than just a killer then."

"I never was. I just defended myself, that's all."

He got up and walked over to Michael. He looked at his wrists and picked up a knife to cut the tightly tied cords off, "I see you weren't too gentle about tying his hands up though."

"I was trying not to shoot the damned rapist. I would have rather hung him instead of tying him up. If that mob outside had wanted him all they had to do was reach for him."

"I don't know if I would have brought him here myself", the sheriff admitted

The parson talked to Michael in a soft voice and backed away. Michael started crying and in a thick voice said, "I did it! I raped her!" The parson moved back toward him and spoke to him again putting his hands on his shoulder. When the sheriff got the cords cut he began to put the hand irons on him then stopped when he found his broken arm.

Looking at me, he said, "I heard you're a pretty good doctor, too. Want to repair some of the damage?"

I gave him back a look, "Get someone else. The only time I want to see this bastard again is to piss on his grave!" I turned and walked out of the office. I don't know what my face showed but it caused the first few people to recoil when they saw me. I was soon walking in a small area of space that opened before me as I stalked through the crowd.

I headed toward the doctor's office where I had left Elizabeth, afraid of what I'd find there. When I got there, I found the doctor examining her belly. I moved to her side and began my own examination. She was badly bruised around her face and might lose a tooth. Her eyes were blackened and her arms bruised where he had held her down. Her legs showed where he had lain on her and it looked like he had kicked her a couple of times on her back. Her hands were holding her belly as if to protect the baby inside.

I looked at the doctor, "Have you written down what she looks like? For the trial?"

He acted like he had expected to hear something else, "He's not dead?"

"Not unless someone else did it. He's at the sheriff's office. The sheriff will probably want you to set his broken arm. I wouldn't do it."

I gently stroked Elizabeth's hair, stiff with the dried blood from her injuries. I looked at him, "What's your diagnosis of the patient?"

"As you can see she has suffered numerous bruises around the head and arms and genital bruising consistent with rape. I see at least two bruises on her back and she is holding her belly which may indicate bruising in the abdominal cavity."

"Did I tell you she's three months pregnant?"

"No."

"I forgot. Did I tell you to write this down?"

He gave me a sympathetic look, "Yes."

I looked back at him, "I love her, you know." I sat down and began to cry.

I don't know how long I was crying when I felt a gentle touch on my arm and heard a soft voice say, "Don't cry, Sweetheart." I looked up to see Elizabeth looking back at me through her blackened eyes.

I fell to my knees sobbing, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I should have gone with you!"

She gave me a small smile, "I'll be all right. I just need to sleep for a while. Hold my hand?" With that she closed her eyes and relaxed either unconscious or asleep. I sat there holding her hand until the next morning.

October 21, 1847

The next morning the sheriff came over and talked to me, "The trial's today. Can your wife attend?"

I looked at him as if he were insane, "Look at her! She's barely alive! You want her to testify?"

"No, just wanted to know if she wanted to see the execution. Jury's already ruled him guilty. Don't have a jail so trials tend to be fast around here. I expect he'll be hung by noon."

(Author's note: The speedy dispensation of justice was due to the fact that Salem had no county jail at the time so there was no secure facility in which to hold a condemned man. Not until 1852 did the County Board of Commissioners contract for the building of a jailhouse.)

"We'll look at his body if she lives."

Along about noon, I heard Claire's voice, "Alex?" I looked up to see Claire coming in the door with Willy. Both looked grim and worried.

I looked up, "Do you know what happened to her?"

She nodded, "We saw the body and the placard when we came in and we talked to the doctor."

"I should have been there!" I shouted.

Claire came over and placed her arms over my neck, "Alex, how could you have known what would happen? You're just blaming yourself for no reason." She looked at me, "When was the last time you ate something or slept?" I looked at her without comprehension. She nodded, "That's what I thought." She pushed me out of the chair and told me to lay down on the floor, "I'll hold her hand for you until you wake up."

October 22, 1847

I laid down and the next thing I knew was waking up on the bed next to Elizabeth looking into her open eyes. "Are you all right?" she asked in a soft voice. I reached out to touch her and pulled back afraid I'd hurt her if it did. "I'll survive. You can't get rid of me that easily," she said. I reached out and grabbed her hand and kissed it.

"I'm sorry; I should have gone with you."

"Why? If I hadn't slipped on the ground I could have handled him easily. It's not your fault." She gave me a soft push, "Now get off my bed and get moving. There are too many things that need doing back at the farm for you to hang around here with me for no reason."

Claire was in the chair fast asleep while the doctor was sitting behind his desk reading. Going over to the doctor, I motioned to him that I wanted to talk outside. After we got outside I asked, "How long does she have to stay here?"

"I'd like to keep her here for one more day and then she can go home. She's made remarkable progress in coming back from her injuries."

"Is there anything I should be looking for?"

"She may have lost the baby; all you can do is hope."

"What about Elizabeth? Is she going to be alright?"

"She should be all right, but no one can say how this may affect her in the long term. I've simply never seen a woman so badly beaten, who wasn't killed in the attack."

I looked back in and saw Claire had woken up when we were out of the office. I gestured to her and after making sure Elizabeth was resting peacefully, she came outside to join us. "Is there anything I need to take care of back at the house?"

'I'm worried about Louise. She wanted to come but I wouldn't let her because of the baby; one of us needs to reassure her everything's all right before she frets herself into a decline (depression). We also need to get the hay in before it rains and cut some more. Willy has been trying but he can't keep up with all the chores by himself."