The Day Bob Greeley Died

by Kimberly A Bettes

  “It’s true. I’ve never seen him do any work. Never even saw him with a tool.”

  “Maybe he’s doing work inside,” suggested Gerald, still trying to poke holes in their theory. It was easier to believe they were wrong than to believe they were right.

  “No. I haven’t heard any work being done either. I think it would be hard to hide the sounds of sawing or hammering, don’t you? And even if he was working inside, he would’ve had to carry in tools. I’ve never seen him carry in anything.”

  Gerald thought a moment, and then agreed with a simple nod of his head.

  “But would you be able to see that from your house?” Frank asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure? Your houses are pretty far apart.”

  “They’re close enough I can see that. I can see him park in the driveway, get out of his car, and go in through the front door. I think I’d be able to see if he carried in any tools.” She had answered Frank’s question with certainty, but now that she thought about, really thought about it, she could be wrong. She didn’t think she was, but it was quite a distance from her house to the Murphy’s. It was just far enough away that if she didn’t know it was Bob Greeley walking up to the door, if she hadn’t saw him drive past her house and pull into the driveway, she wouldn’t have been able to tell who it was.

  “I can’t think of a single reason that man could possibly have for being down there, especially when the girl’s mother isn’t home,” Maude said as she plucked a napkin from the dispenser on the counter and daubed at her face with it, trying in vain not to smudge or smear her makeup.

  “Without a father in the picture, the girl is easy prey,” said Sara.

  “There’s no father?” Gerald asked, turning to look at Sara.

  She shook her head. “No. It’s just Sue and Claire.”

  “Oh no,” Emma said quietly, putting her hands on her face. With her palms flat against her cheeks, she tried to imagine the Bob Greeley she used to know performing such heinous acts. In her time as his girlfriend, even though they were only children, he had been nothing but kind. She would’ve never imagined — then or now — that he would become such a monster, capable of ripping away a young girl’s innocence.

  Beneath her hands, she could feel the heat radiating from within her. If the power didn’t come back on soon, she would begin to sweat.

  This information left Gerald with only one thing to say. “We have to do something about it.” He sat on the stool at the counter next to his wife and ordered a soda.

  Ollie took the stool next to Maude and ordered a soda as well. The seriousness of the situation killed his appetite for ice cream, but it didn’t put an end to his thirst.

  Henry and Sara sat together on one side of a booth at the front of the store. Miriam sat in the booth behind them. Leroy continued to lean against the wall, staring solemnly at the floor and wondering if there had been signs that he’d missed. Perhaps something Bob had said or done that would’ve indicated his true nature. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of a single thing.

  Frank pushed up his glasses and leaned on the soda counter, listening as the ideas were passed around the group. He wasn’t sure what they should do, or even if they should do anything. It wasn’t their business, certainly, but if Bob Greeley really was messing with a young girl, somebody had to do something.

  He thought of what would’ve happened to the likes of Bob Greeley years ago, back when Frank was a boy and times were different. As he tried to imagine the punishment that would fit a crime such as this, a question popped into his mind, one that he had to ask.

  He waited for a break in the conversation, but with this many people talking over each other, there was never a pause. Finally, he just opened his mouth and asked, “Do you think the mother knows?”

  As he was speaking, he wasn’t sure anyone was going to hear him. His voice mingled in with the sounds of all the other voices in the room, got wrapped up and lost in other people’s sentences. When a hush fell over the group, all eyes turned to him and he knew that they’d heard him after all.

  When no one said anything, he repeated the question. “Do you think she knows Bob comes to her house while she’s at work?”

  “Wouldn’t she have to know?” Sara asked. “I mean, he doesn’t exactly hide the fact that he’s there. He parks in the driveway, so all the neighbors can see him. In fact, anyone can see him. Surely she knows.”

  “But what if no one has said anything to her about it?” Henry asked, thinking aloud as he ran his hand over his bald head. “What if everyone just assumes she knows and no one has said a word to her about it?”

  Sara hung her head and looked at her hands, folded in her lap. Henry was right. What if that’s what happened? What if that poor woman had no idea that her daughter had fallen prey to an older man?

  “Worse than that, what if she does know?” Miriam asked.

  Everyone turned to look at her.

  “What if she does know and just doesn’t care?”

  “Well that would be horrible,” Maude said. “Just horrible.”

  “It happens,” Sara said. “It’s terrible and it’s disgusting, but it happens.”

  Leroy chimed in and asked, “What if it was the mother’s idea?”

  “What do you mean?” Frank asked from behind the counter.

  “I mean what if the mother wanted Bob to come over?”

  “Are you trying to say that a mother would actually want a man to molest her daughter while she was at work?” Miriam asked, growing angrier and louder with each word. “Is that what you’re suggesting?” She pushed herself up from the booth and stepped closer to Leroy, who dropped his arms to his sides as she approached.

  “It’s just a thought. Weird things happen like that.”

  “Why? Why would anyone do that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she doesn’t want her daughter to be alone.”

  “So she has a grown man, a stranger, come spend time with her vulnerable little girl? A little girl who’s blossoming into a woman? That’s ridiculous,” Miriam said as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Leroy. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

  “Maybe she sells her,” Sara suggested.

  Now everyone turned to face her, some with their mouths agape.

  Emma closed her eyes and sighed, rubbing her temples to ease the ache.

  Feeling uneasy under their scrutiny, Sara added, “I knew a girl whose father sold her to his friends when he needed money.”

  “Oh my god,” Maude gasped as her hand jumped up to her throat. “You’re kidding.”

  “That’s terrible,” Emma said quietly.

  Gerald rubbed Emma’s back, trying to keep her calm and relaxed. He considered taking her home, where she didn’t have to hear these horrible things and worry about them. Hearing such a conversation was sure to stress her, and the stress would undoubtedly make her head ache. He opened his mouth to tell her to grab her purse so he could take her home, but he closed it without saying a word, knowing that she would protest. He remembered how happy she was to feel good enough to get out of the house today, though she surely hadn’t anticipated this.

  He was appalled that anyone would do such a thing as sell their daughter for sex, though he knew Sara hadn’t made it up. He knew there were sick and evil people in the world. That’s why he became a preacher. He wanted to give peace and comfort to those seeking it in a world full of chaos and distress. But to hear about it was unsettling, especially when he thought of something like that happening right here in his own town.

  “It is terrible,” Sara said. “And she was a lot younger than twelve or thirteen.” Her voice nearly broke as she spoke, but she felt sure that no one noticed.

  “You’re kidding,” Maude said. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  “I’m not.” Sara looked away from the group, out the window, where she watched as the wind blew dirt down the only paved road in Sweetwater. She watched as the heat radiated fr
om the asphalt in waves and fought to keep the tears at bay, just like she had her whole life.

  Her heart ached for the Murphy girl, alone with a strange man who was doing no telling what to her at that very moment. While they all sat in the pharmacy and talked about how horrible it was, the girl was living it. She wanted to go to her, to hold her and tell her it was going to be okay one day. That even though her life was horrible right then, there would come a day when she found someone who cared about her more than he cared about himself. Someone who would put her wants and needs ahead of his own. Someone who would make her forget all of the bad things she’d gone through. Someone who would stay with her even when she tried to push him away as she lost the battle with the demons and memories within her that threatened to ruin it all.

  Sara squeezed Henry’s hand under the table.

  Henry had sensed that Sara was speaking from personal experience. She was talking about something that had happened to her, not a friend. It wasn’t until she squeezed his hand that he knew for sure. Her father had sold her when she was young. He had sold her to his friends for money, forced her to do unspeakable acts with them when she was no more than a child. That explained a lot.

  Though her father was gone long before Henry entered Sara’s life, he wanted to kill the son of a bitch. What kind of monster could do that to a child? What kind of heartless bastard would let his friends use his little girl like that?

  Though he wanted to hunt Sara’s father down and kill him slowly, Henry couldn’t think about that right now. Sara needed him to be strong for her, and the Murphy girl needed help.

  To keep from thinking about the horrors Sara saw as a child, from wondering about what else she had been through that he didn’t know about, Henry focused on Miriam as she paced back and forth across the floor, obviously angry. He watched as she used the back of her hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead, and he wondered what she knew that made her so much angrier than anyone else. So he asked, and without hesitation, she gave him a reason.

  When she’d finished telling him about the abuse Grace suffered and the way Bob forced her to live, even denying her a pleasure as small and simple as a soda, Henry was pretty angry too. No man should ever hit a woman. Not even during the worst of their arguments had he thought of hitting Sara. It wasn’t right. And when the rest of the story was laid out for him, the lollipops and unsupervised visits with the young girl, he completely understood Miriam’s anger and he matched it with anger of his own. Coupled with the frustration and rage he felt for what he just learned about Sara, he was nearly seething. It was a struggle to keep his composure, but he managed. However, he didn’t know how long he could contain it.

  Henry put his arm around Sara and listened as the group hashed out ideas over what should be done about Bob Greeley. Occasionally, someone would question whether they were wrong in assuming what was going on, but the others were quick to remind everyone of what was known to be the truth.

  They knew Bob Greeley hit his wife.

  They knew he was at Claire Murphy’s house while she was at work.

  They knew Bob bought lemon lollipops.

  They knew the Murphy girl loved lemon lollipops.

  And they knew that right then, as they talked about it, Bob Greeley was alone with the Murphy girl, and that was something he did frequently.

  When little more than an hour of discussing and arguing had passed, the group finally agreed on two things.

  First, it was every bit as hot in the soda shop as it was outside.

  Second, Bob Greeley had to be stopped.

  Chapter 20

  By the time the cool air inside the pharmacy turned hot, the discussion that started out as civilized had become clamorous, making it nearly impossible to focus on a single sentence. With everyone talking at once, the conversation was little more than a dull roar.

  With tempers running as hot as the temperature outside, the group decided that the only way to settle the matter was to go over to the Murphy’s house and call Bob Greeley out. Leroy Russell felt certain that he could talk to Bob, reason with him and find out what was going on. He was sure he could convince Bob to do the right thing and turn himself in, to face the consequences and seek help.

  Everyone agreed that if there was anyone among them who could talk sense into Bob, it was definitely Leroy. After all, the two were friends. They spent a lot of time together, both at work and at play. Surely he could get through to him.

  Having established at least some semblance of a plan, everyone left the pharmacy and loaded into the three cars to set it in motion. Ollie, Gerald, Leroy, and Frank all rode in Gerald’s car. Maude, Emma, Henry, and Sara rode in Maude’s car. Miriam took her own car, bringing up the rear as they drove single file down the paved road, and then turned onto the dirt road that lead to Claire’s house, then to Miriam’s house, and eventually came to a dead end at Bob Greeley’s front door.

  Along the way, everyone chattered loudly, making Emma wish she’d rode with Miriam. But she hadn’t, and now she was forced to listen as Maude, Henry, and Sara talked about how they couldn’t believe Bob could be such a monster, what could possibly possess anyone to act in such a way, and how a woman could allow her child to be hurt. She massaged her temples with her fingertips in an effort to ease the ache that lurked just under the surface while she too wondered how Bob could do such a thing.

  In Gerald’s car, Leroy wondered aloud how he could work alongside a man for so long without ever suspecting he could be anything other than nice. This caused Frank to recount a story of a man he’d once known that had robbed a woman at gunpoint. He’d grown up with this man, thought he knew him well, and had been surprised to learn the man was capable of such a crime. And that sent Gerald into a mini-sermon about how evil wore many faces, hiding in the people we would least expect.

  Riding in the lonely silence of the final car, Miriam tried not to cry as she wondered how it had come to this, where it had all gone wrong. She’d made mistakes in her life, mistakes she wished she could erase, and she hoped with all her heart that she wasn’t making another one. Accusing a man of something so awful was bad enough, but to do it if he was innocent would be even worse.

  She told herself that it didn’t matter. It’s not like she fabricated the story. Everything she’d said was true. So she was more than justified in making such accusations toward Bob Greeley, which weren’t accusations at all. It was the truth.

  Maude parked behind Gerald on the shoulder of the road with the two tires on the driver side in the ditch and the two on the passenger side on the dirt road. Miriam passed them and pulled into the driveway, stopping alongside Bob Greeley’s 1937 Studebaker.

  As everyone piled out of the cars, their voices escalated and their agitation grew along with the adrenaline that coursed through their veins. They gathered at the edge of the road, where they stood shoulder to shoulder, falling silent as they stared at the house.

  For a minute, no one spoke. They were all thinking of the awful things that had taken place inside, things that were quite possibly taking place at that very moment, while they stood outside. That’s the thought that kicked them into gear; the thought that they were standing outside while a young girl was being molested or raped just a few feet away, inside the house.

  Leroy was the first to step into the yard, memories of his father beating his mother weighing heavily on his mind. He knew that if Bob could do something as terrible as beat his wife and still seem normal, then he was capable of doing anything. Sadly, Leroy realized that no matter what he thought, no matter how long he knew someone or how much time he spent with them, he never really knew anyone. He’d always thought Bob was a great guy. Not once had he suspected that his friend and employee could have beaten his wife. But he did, and if he could do that, what else didn’t Leroy know about him?

  As Leroy approached the house, the rest of the group followed his lead, walking a few feet behind him. They watched as Leroy walked up the steps and knocked on the door.
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  Miriam felt a hand on her shoulder. “What’s going on?”

  She turned to face Bruce. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

  “I was sitting on the porch and I saw everybody pull in. What’s going on?”

  Miriam told Bruce everything as quickly as she could. She told him they were sure Bob Greeley was molesting the Murphy girl and they were there to put a stop to it. As she told him the reasoning behind why they were there, the rest of the group became impatient and stepped closer to the house, shouting for Bob to come outside.

  “This is nonsense,” Bruce said sternly. “I want you to stop it and come home right now.”

  “I can’t, Bruce. I have to do this. Someone has to stop him.”

  “Then let them do it. You don’t need to be a part of this madness. Come home with me right now.” He grabbed Miriam’s elbow intending to lead her away from what was rapidly becoming no more than an angry mob, but she pulled away and began to yell at the house like everyone else. Her face, already red from the heat, grew a shade darker as she shouted her demands for Bob to come outside.

  “Bob Greeley,” they shouted. “Come out here and face us.”

  Seeing that this was going to get out of control in a hurry, Bruce turned and limped as quickly as he could back down the road to his house. After ordering the children to stay inside, he then went to his bedroom closet, where he retrieved the M1911 Colt pistol. It had served him well in the war, and he’d kept it tucked away ever since, hoping to never have to use it again in his lifetime. He hoped that still, even as he loaded it and tucked it into the waistband of his pants.

  His plan was to shoot up in the air to silence the crowd. He wanted to get their attention so he could rationalize with them and explain how wrong it was to do what they were doing. He wanted to talk some sense into them before it was too late and they did something they couldn’t take back, something they’d all regret for the rest of their lives.

  After reminding the children to stay in the house, he left, once again limping down the road to where his wife and the others were now beating on the side of the house with their fists.