The Day Bob Greeley Died

by Kimberly A Bettes

  “I can’t just sit by and let a man beat on his wife like that,” Miriam said.

  “It’s not your place to judge. I don’t know what goes on between your husband and you, and I don’t concern myself with it because it isn’t my business.” Grace shook her head and looked into the eyes of each of the women. “This is exactly why I stay home, alone and away from everybody. You people speak a language all your own. Gossip and rumors is all you know. What’d you do?” she asked, directing her question to Miriam. “Did you run to town and tell everybody Bob beats me? Did you get them all worked up into believing he was some hideous monster? Did you all decide that if he was hitting me then surely he was doing other bad things, possibly even to little girls? Is that what happened?”

  Miriam shifted her eyes away from Grace’s, uncomfortable with hearing the truth.

  Sara and Emma hung their heads.

  Maude looked at Sue, who still clung to Grace.

  “I’m disgusted. When you came to my house this morning, Miriam, I wasn’t sure what to think. For a moment — just a moment — I thought you were there as a friend. I thought you were genuinely concerned about me. But I’d forgotten what this town was like. I’d forgotten that people only stop by to see you to snoop around and gather fodder for the rumor mill. Isn’t that right?” Before Miriam could respond, she continued. “You probably left my house this morning and went straight to town, where you told everyone everything you’d seen, everything you thought you knew about me, about Bob. Isn’t that right, Miriam?”

  Surprised by the angry tone Grace’s voice had assumed, Miriam said nothing. There wasn’t much she could’ve said anyway because Grace was right. That was exactly what she’d done.

  “Where’s Bob?” Grace asked the women.

  This time, they all hung their heads, making Grace’s heart beat faster. The feeling that something was wrong nagged harder at her now.

  She felt Sue’s head rise, and she looked down into the girl’s eyes.

  “Th-th-they’re g-g-going to k-k-kill him,” she sobbed.

  Panic seized Grace, squeezing her throat and knotting her stomach.

  She quickly looked at the women, who still had their heads hung. And for the first time since she arrived, she looked beyond the women, really taking in the scene behind them.

  The men stood at the front of Miriam’s car, facing away from her. She looked at each of them quickly, easily recognizing them. Leroy, Ollie, Frank, and Gerald. While they stood in the rain, talking and patting each other on the back, she noticed Bruce pushing himself up off the ground. His face was covered in blood.

  Fearful of what had taken place already, even more fearful of what was about to take place, she quickly looked back to the group of men who stood at the front of the car. She saw the rope that was tied to the bumper and followed it with her eyes. It went up and over the limb of an oak tree, and it ended around the neck of her husband.

  As she saw Bob standing there in the rain, hands tied behind his back and fear embedded on his face, she instinctively screamed, “Stop!”

  Sue released her grip on Grace’s waist and covered her ears with her hands.

  Everyone turned toward her. They watched as she ran across the yard, past the women, past the group of men standing at the car, and straight to Henry.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked angrily.

  Henry, soaked from the rain, loosened his grip on the gun and shook his head without saying a word. He wasn’t sure what to say. What had seemed so right a moment ago suddenly didn’t seem right at all.

  Seeing that she wasn’t going to get anything out of Henry, Grace spun around and looked to Bruce, who had managed to stand by this time, and was now using the back of his hand to wipe some of the blood from his face.

  “What is going on here? What is all this?”

  Bruce stepped closer to her and said, “I’ve been trying to talk sense into these people. They got it in their minds that your husband has done terrible things.”

  “So I heard.”

  The sounds of approaching footsteps told Grace the group was behind her. She spun angrily to face them. With her fists balled in frustration, she demanded answers.

  “Is this how you handle something like this? Is this what you do when you get it into your heads that someone has done something wrong? Without any proof at all, no evidence whatsoever, you just set about killing him, in broad daylight, in front of a child?”

  One by one, she looked into their eyes. Racked with guilt, they each looked away, hanging their heads in shame.

  “I can’t believe you. You call yourselves decent people, upstanding citizens, and faithful Christians. Yet here you are, judging a man on something you heard.”

  “I’m sorry, Grace.” Emma didn’t bother to wipe the tears from her eyes. She let them flow freely, where they were hidden among the rain that washed over her face.

  “You should be. Every damn one of you should be. What if I hadn’t shown up when I did? One minute later and I’d be standing before you now a widow. What would you have said to me then? That you’re sorry?”

  Ashamed of their actions, everyone kept their heads hung, unable to look into Grace’s eyes, afraid of the pain and anger they would see there.

  The sky opened up and let loose with a flood of rain that beat against their skin. Though it stung, no one said a word.

  Chapter 24

  Darkness closed in around them as the rain fell furiously from the sky in massive torrents, and Grace continued to lecture the group sternly about how wrong they were to jump to conclusions and then act on them. Wrapped in their guilt, no one noticed the eerily black sky pressing down or the rapidly increasing wind. It wasn’t until a rumble, first thought to be distant thunder, grew louder and closer that anyone thought to pay attention to the storm.

  It was Bruce, always the reasonable one, who turned his face upward in time to see a flash of lightning brighten the increasingly darkening sky, shedding light on the imminent danger.

  Ignoring the panic that threatened to take hold of him and freeze him where he stood, Bruce tore his eyes away from the daunting shape in the sky and turned to the group.

  “Tornado!” he yelled.

  At once, everyone looked up and saw what Bruce had seen, a dark spinning mass of destruction ripping its way across the landscape, coming straight for them.

  Screams erupted from the crowd as people started to panic.

  “Oh my god,” Emma and Maude cried simultaneously.

  “The cellar,” said Leroy, pointing to the door at the side of the house. “Quick!”

  As the wind picked up, swirling the women’s hair and dresses, Leroy began herding everyone toward the cellar, Miriam ran over to Bruce with fear in her eyes. “My god, Bruce. The children,” she cried. “They’re home alone.”

  With one hand on each of her arms, Bruce said, “Get in the cellar with the others. I’ll get the kids.”

  With a nod, Miriam took off running to the house, where Leroy stood holding open the door while the last of the group descended into the small cellar.

  Bruce called after her, “I’ll get Bob.”

  Turning his back on the house and the safety of the cellar, Bruce went to Bob, who was trying to pull out of the rope. With no time to free his hands, Bruce removed the noose from around Bob’s neck and told him to hurry to the cellar, shouting to be heard above the roar of the wind and the rumbling of the approaching tornado.

  Bob shouted back, “Thanks.”

  For a moment, brief as it was, the two locked eyes, and Bruce could see the immense gratitude the man had for all that he’d done for him. Another flash of lightning and the moment was broken. Bob took off toward the cellar, running awkwardly with his hands still bound behind him.

  Bruce ran across the yard, past Miriam’s car, and onto the dirt road, hoping like hell he could make it home before the tornado hit.

  As the tornado grew closer, debris began to swirl around Bruce, whizzing p
ast him at incredible speeds. With no time to spare, Bruce caught a glimpse of a mailbox coming toward him, and ducked. When he did, he slipped in the mud and fell to the ground, where the air was knocked out of him. Face down in the muddy muck of the road, he wasted no time trying to catch his breath. He immediately got back to his feet and continued on, quicker than before, terrified his children would have to ride out this storm alone.

  Above the intense roar of the tornado, Bruce could hear nothing else. He couldn’t hear the thunder of the storm or his ragged breathing. As his ears popped from the pressure of the tornado, a tree limb flew past his face, branches scraping his skin.

  Bruce began to feel as though he were running in place. The pulling force of the rotating tornado tugged at him as he fought against it, determined to not get sucked away by the storm. Luckily, he was close to his house, close enough to grab onto the railing of the porch and pull himself toward the front door.

  For a second, as he reached toward the doorknob, he had a terrifying thought. What if the door was locked? Even if they were able to hear him, there wouldn’t be time to summon the kids to the door to let him in.

  His fears were unfounded when the knob turned freely in his palm. As he thrust open the door and raced across the threshold, he glanced back over his shoulder and saw the tornado one last time, frighteningly close to the Murphy house.

  With a racing heart, Bruce yelled for the kids. Hearing no response to his shouts, he went to the first place he thought they would be. Huddled together in the closet of their bedroom, he found them, crying and scared. He quickly stepped into the closet with them, closed the door behind him, and wrapped his arms around the twins.

  Though he was worried and scared, he assured the children everything would be okay.

  He hoped that wasn’t a lie.

  ***

  In the dank cellar of the Murphy house, everyone stood shoulder to shoulder in silence. Even if they hadn’t been frightened because of the tornado, they wouldn’t have known what to say. They were all in a state of shock and slightly confused about the day’s events, each wondering how things had gotten so out of hand so fast.

  It was Grace who spoke first.

  “Where’s Bob?”

  “Bruce said he would get him.”

  “He didn’t come in here,” Leroy said.

  “He must’ve gone with Bruce to our house then.”

  “Do you think Andrew will be okay?” Maude asked with a tremor in her voice. Though it was pitch black in the cellar, no one needed to see her face to know she was daubing her eyes with her makeup covered handkerchief. No one blamed her for crying. She had every right to be worried. Her son was home alone and the tornado was nearly upon them.

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Ollie told her. His voice was soothing, meant to calm his wife’s fears, but everyone knew he was just as worried as Maude.

  “I’ve lived out there by you nearly my whole life,” Frank said. “Never seen a tornado hit out that way. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

  Though Frank’s words eased her fears slightly, Maude occasionally sniffled, letting everyone know she was still sobbing.

  “I’m s-s-scared,” Sue said, clinging tightly to Grace.

  “It’s okay, sweetie. Everything will be just fine. This will all be over shortly.” Reassuring Sue took Grace’s mind off the matter at hand, and not just the tornado.

  Grace was furious with these people. If she lived a hundred more years, she’d never forgive them for what they’d done. Frankly, she had no intentions or interests in trying. If she never saw any of them again after today, that would be just fine with her. Of course, Bob worked with Leroy, so he would see him. Unless he was as angry about this as Grace, and he probably was. Who wouldn’t be? These people had tried to kill him, Leroy included. Some friend he turned out to be.

  Never again would she say a kind word to Emma when they passed in the store or the pharmacy. Speaking of which, she had no plans whatsoever to go into the pharmacy. If she was ill, she’d die before she got medicine from Frank Walter. And never again in her life would she set a foot anywhere near that church. She would make sure Bob never spent a dime in Henry’s bar. In fact, she didn’t plan to spend as much as a penny in any place of business in all of Sweetwater. These people, these horrible, awful people, could all go bankrupt for all she cared. They could lose their businesses and homes and starve in the streets. It served them right for what they’d done, and more importantly for what they’d planned to do.

  As the tornado drew closer and the roaring intensified, Grace found herself hoping the storm would take everyone in the cellar with it, save herself and Sue Murphy. But as the ground trembled beneath her feet, she started to feel guilty that she’d had such a thought. If harm came to any one of these people, she’d never forgive herself for wishing death upon them.

  Yes, she was angry with them, and yes, they had acted foolishly. But could she blame them? Clearly the heat had played a big part in their actions. They would normally never do anything like what they’d done today.

  As if to confirm that fact, the memory sprang into her mind of Frank Walter once giving her a prescription without charging her because she didn’t have the money to pay for it.

  And there was the time she didn’t have a decent dress to wear to church on Easter Sunday and Emma Andrews bought her one.

  Also, the time their car had broken down, Leroy Russell had loaned Bob his truck for the week so he wouldn’t miss work.

  It was clear that what happened today was directly related to the heat. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how true that was. She remembered the way they had all looked, standing in the yard with red faces, drenched in sweat.

  She thought about how she herself had been feeling lately, stressed because of the drought, aggravated because of the oppressive heat. She’d been frustrated and snippy. Angry at times for no reason. Heat wears on the body. Surely, these people had not been in their right minds when they’d tried to kill her husband. Therefore it wouldn’t be right for her to wish for their deaths.

  The ground shook around her as she silently prayed for forgiveness for thinking such wicked thoughts. And while she was at it, she prayed for the safety of everyone around her, including her husband.

  A minute later, after the rumbling stopped and the roar of the tornado died down, the discussion began about whether it was safe to go outside. Frank, having lived through a tornado as a young boy, assured them that they were no longer in danger. The storm had passed and moved on, terrorizing other folks in its path.

  It wasn’t hard for Leroy to find the door in the dark. The cellar was small, and he had only taken a few steps away from it after closing it behind him. What did prove difficult though was opening the door. Even using all of his strength, he wasn’t able to open it.

  Henry and Leroy worked together for several minutes in a failed attempt to open the door before they heard a sound from the other side.

  “Bruce,” Leroy called. “Is that you?”

  Before there was time to worry about the lack of an answer, the door swung open and Bruce stood staring in at them.

  “The door wouldn’t open,” Leroy said.

  “I know. I had to move all these boards and shingles to get to it.”

  Maude gasped. “Oh my.”

  “It had the door covered,” Bruce said as he extended his hand to help them out of the cellar.

  “Thank God you weren’t down here with us,” Sara said. “We would’ve all been in there and no one would’ve known where to find us.”

  “We would’ve been trapped,” Maude said, panic in her voice. “We would’ve died, and Andrew…” She brought the handkerchief to her face and sobbed into it.

  Ollie put his arm around her and said, “But we weren’t all in there, Maude. We’re all out now and we’re fine. Thanks to him.”

  Everyone turned to Bruce.

  Miriam asked, “How are the kids?”

  “They’re fine.
They were scared, but they’re fine now.” Bruce was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the eyes of the group on him.

  “We owe you a big thanks,” Gerald said. “And an even bigger apology.”

  Bruce shook his head and held up his hand, dismissing the idea.

  “No, now, we do,” insisted Gerald. “There’s no excuse for the way we acted today. None at all. I don’t know what came over us. I spent my time in the cellar reflecting on it, thinking about it. I tried to understand, but I just…I just don’t. We’re all good people. Today never should’ve happened. And I’ll tell you this much right now. It’ll never happen again.”

  “That’s right,” Frank added.

  “I just want you to know that we’re all very sorry. And we are forever in your debt. You tried to make us see the error of our ways, and though we refused to listen, your persistence bought enough time to save a man’s life. It’s because of you that Bob Greeley is still alive.”

  “Now, Gerald, there’s no debt. I just did what was right.”

  “I know you did. You were the only one of us who did.” Gerald looked around. “Where’s Bob? I’d like to apologize to him. I’m sure we all would.”

  A strange look came over Bruce’s face. “What do you mean? Wasn’t he in the cellar with you?”

  Everyone shook their heads.

  “No. He wasn’t in there,” Gerald replied.

  Seeing as Leroy was the one who had ushered everyone into the cellar and closed the door behind them, everyone looked to him for answers.

  “Don’t look at me. Everyone was in when I closed the door. I never saw Bob.”

  All eyes turned back to Bruce.

  Miriam said, “You told me you were getting him.”

  “And I did. I took the rope off his neck and ordered him to get into the cellar. He ran that way, and I ran for our house. That’s the last I saw him.”

  Maude’s jaw dropped down and she cried, “Oh no!”

  “Well we have to find him,” Grace said, trying to control her voice.

  “And we will,” Bruce said.

  They started with the yard, searching through piles of rubble. Bruce was worried that perhaps Miriam’s car, sucked up, overturned, and tossed several yards away, may be lying atop Bob. But upon closer inspection, he was happy to learn that wasn’t the case.