Measure of Grace

by Al Lacy

  Maggie’s eyes took on extra moisture and she lay a tender hand on Diana’s arm. “Honey, I’m sorry you had to suffer because you were trying to protect your brother.”

  Diana shrugged. “That’s just the way it is at our house.”

  At that instant three teenage girls came out of the general store and rushed up to Diana and Deborah, saying they had just talked to their mother in the store. Maggie saw that the Morrow girls were going to be talking to their friends, so she excused herself and entered the store.

  It took only a moment for Maggie to spot Martha near the rear of the store at the fruit and vegetable tables. She waved, heading that way, and Martha waved back. When they came together, Martha greeted Maggie with a loving embrace. “I’m sorry we hurried past you and the Bradfords so fast. But as you know, Stu doesn’t want anything to do with the preacher.”

  “Yes,” Maggie said in a sad tone. “I wish it wasn’t so. Shamus and I were just saying on our way into town, how much we would love to see your whole family come to church, and—”

  “And be saved,” Martha finished for her.

  “Yes. Of course you don’t have to come to church to be saved, honey. You could ask Jesus into your heart right here and now if you wanted to.”

  Martha nodded. “I understand that.” She remembered all the times Stu had struck her in anger, and thought, If I should ever become a Christian—as Maggie has so lovingly urged me to—Stu would beat me to death. No matter how wonderful salvation sounds, I could never do it. What would happen to my children if I weren’t here to give them whatever protection I can?

  Sighing deeply within herself, Martha said, “Did you see my girls out front?”

  Knowing her friend was avoiding the subject of salvation as she had done many times before, Maggie vowed in her heart to pray more earnestly for her. “Yes, and I saw that cut on Diana’s lip. She tried to cover for her father when I asked her how it happened, but Deborah spoke up and told her to tell me the truth.”

  A crimson tide of embarrassment flooded Martha’s lovely face.

  Smiling, Maggie said, “Don’t worry, honey. I won’t let the cat out of the bag to anyone else. Except Shamus, of course.”

  Even as she spoke those last words, Maggie looked at Martha’s left cheek and squinted at the fading purple mark there. “Did Stu hit you, too? Like the other times your face has had bruises?”

  Martha’s fingers went to the spot. Her face flushed again. “Well, ah—”

  “Come on, honey,” she said, laying a gentle hand on her arm, “this is your old friend, Maggie. You can tell me.”

  Martha’s eyes filmed up. “Yes,” she reluctantly admitted. “It was about ten days ago. Stu lost his temper and hit me.”

  Anger pulsed through Maggie like the steady beat of a clock. Eyebrows knitted together, she said stiffly, “He ought to have some big, strong man show him what it feels like.”

  At the feed and grain store, Stu and the two older boys finished loading feed sacks while little Dennis stood on his knees on the wagon seat and observed.

  Derick and Daniel climbed in the wagon bed with the sacks while their father mounted the seat. Stu put the team in motion, and headed down the street in the direction of the general store, which was six blocks away.

  After covering two blocks, Stu guided the horses to a stop in front of the Golden Lantern Tavern. Derick and Daniel exchanged fearful glances, knowing their father always became meaner than usual when he got liquor in him.

  With a slight quiver in his voice, Derick said, “Papa, don’t you think we ought to get on down to the general store? Mama will probably be ready soon.”

  Scowling, Stu said, “I’ll only be a few minutes. You boys stay in the wagon. Don’t be climbing down to look in store windows or something. Understand?”

  “Yes, Papa,” said Derick. “We’ll stay in the wagon.”

  “Good,” said the man, lowering himself to the ground. “You know what’ll happen if you disobey me.”

  “We won’t, Papa,” Daniel assured him.

  Stu gave each one a hard look, then made his way across the boardwalk and entered the tavern.

  Down the street at the general store, Diana and Deborah finished talking to their three friends, and as they headed for the door, a female voice called Diana’s name from across the street. She and Deborah turned to see two more of their friends from school threading through the heavy traffic to join them.

  Inside the general store, Martha and Maggie had been joined by Shamus, and all three were enjoying their conversation when Martha’s eyes strayed to the big clock on the wall above the back door. A little trickle of fear ran down her spine. There would be trouble if she hadn’t finished her shopping when Stu returned. “Oh, dear!” she said. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to finish my grocery shopping before Stu gets back. Nice talking to you Maggie, Shamus. Hope we can run into each other again soon.”

  “Real soon, I hope,” said Maggie.

  “Me too,” chimed in Shamus. “And Martha …”

  “Yes?”

  “Maggie and I are here for you and the children if you ever need us.”

  Smiling nervously, Martha dipped her head in an embarrassed nod. “Thank you.”

  As they watched Martha hurry away in a fidgety gait, Shamus said in a low tone from the side of his mouth, “Such a pity, Maggie. Such a pity.”

  At the Morrow wagon, Derick and Daniel were trying to keep their active little brother occupied while their father was in the tavern.

  Almost half an hour had passed when Stu emerged from the Golden Lantern. Though his walk was steady, the effects of the alcohol were already showing in his watery eyes and his reddened cheeks. The boys looked at each other in fear, dreading whatever might come their way.

  Stu ran his whiskey-influenced gaze to his sons as he climbed onto the seat and growled, “You boys didn’t get out of the wagon, did you?”

  “No, Papa,” said Derick. “We did as you said.”

  “Good,” grunted Stu, taking reins in hand and putting the team in motion. “Saves you from being whipped.”

  On the board sidewalk in front of the general store, the third set of friends told Diana and Deborah good-bye, and as the sisters turned to enter the store, Diana saw Tom Wymore hurrying toward her, angling across the street, smiling and waving.

  Her heart leaped in her chest, and her breath went tight in her lungs. “Deborah!” she gasped. “It’s Tom!”

  Following her sister’s line of sight, Deborah said, “Looks like he wants to talk to you.”

  “What am I going to do? Papa will be showing up any minute!”

  Deborah glanced up the street to see if the family wagon was in sight. “The traffic is heavy, but I don’t see Papa and the boys right now,” she said, her voice trembling.

  Fear etched itself on Diana’s face as Tom drew up. Seeing it, he said, “Is it all right if we talk?”

  “Tom, I’m glad to see you,” she said, “but Papa will be coming any minute. He went to the feed store. Since he told you to stay away from me, he will really be angry if he sees us together.”

  A serious look came over Tom’s countenance. “Diana, I really like you a lot. I think about you all the time. Do … do you feel anything like that toward me?”

  Diana managed a tiny smile. “I like you very much, Torn. And I would like to date you, but my father won’t let me. You saw how he was when he saw us together before.”

  Tom rubbed his chin. “Diana, I want to date you more than anything in the world. I … would really like for us to become close. I don’t mean to be too forward, but I’m very much attracted to you. I’ll wait till your father shows up and try to reason with him.”

  Diana’s lips pulled into a thin line, and she began to wring her hands. “Tom, I … I’m afraid for you.”

  “You mean, what your father might do to me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Certainly he will listen to reason.”

  Diana was shaking her he
ad as Deborah said, “Tom, you don’t understand. Our father can get real mean when he’s angry. And he will get real angry if you try to reason with him. Don’t try to talk to him.”

  “But—”

  “Please,” Deborah said, “Papa’s mind is made up. You won’t be able to reason with him. He says Diana is too young to date. Nothing will change his mind.”

  Tom shook his head. “But most girls her age are either engaged or are already married.”

  “I have tried to get Papa to see this, Tom,” said Diana. “And so has Mama. But he will not listen.”

  Tom sighed, shook his head again. “Well, has he told you how old you have to be before you can date young men?”

  “He has never said.”

  “Hmm. Diana, I doubt you will ever be old enough in your father’s eyes. He probably wants you to be an old maid.”

  Unknowingly, Tom Wymore had just stated what Diana had secretly feared for a long time.

  When Tom saw her eyes mist up and her brow pucker, he said, “I’m sorry, Diana. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Looking deep into his eyes, she said, “You don’t have to be sorry, Tom. It isn’t your fault my father is like he is. And I would love to be close to you, too. But it just can’t be.”

  Tom took a deep breath and smiled. “That sure is a pretty dress you’re wearing. It really brings out the brown in your eyes. I—”

  “Diana!” gasped Deborah, grabbing her sister’s arm. “Here comes Papa!”

  Terror struck Diana’s heart as she turned and saw the Morrow wagon pulling up. Her father’s watery eyes were wild with anger as he saw Tom with Diana.

  WHILE STU MORROW WAS CLIMBING DOWN from the wagon seat, Derick got Diana’s attention and used signals as if he was holding a bottle and putting it to his lips, so she would know for sure that their father had been drinking.

  Deborah saw it, too, and whispered, “He looks real mad, Diana.”

  Diana nodded, a sick feeling settling in her stomach.

  Tom Wymore licked his lips nervously as Stu stomped toward him, his immense spread of shoulders twitching. Stu’s face was flushed from whiskey and anger, and the hostility grew in his eyes as he fixed them on Tom. He swore at Tom and yelled at the top of his voice, “Didn’t I tell you to stay away from my daughter?”

  As Tom was opening his mouth to reply, Stu looked at Diana. “I told you I didn’t want you in this hammerhead’s company, didn’t I?”

  Diana was so frightened she couldn’t speak. Deborah was gripping her arm with a trembling hand. The boys were climbing down from the wagon, their eyes fixed on their father, wondering if he was going to hurt Tom. They and their sisters knew how dangerous their father could be—especially when he had whiskey in him.

  People on the boardwalk were stopping to look on, eyes wide.

  Stu was running his hot gaze between Diana and Tom, waiting for one of them to reply.

  Diana looked up at Tom, found her voice, and it came out with a tremor as she said, “Tom, it would be best if you leave right now.”

  Shaking his head slowly, Tom said, “Diana, I can’t. My feelings for you are strong, and I can’t wait any longer.” Then to Stu, he spoke in a grave voice: “Mr. Morrow, can’t we talk like gentlemen?”

  Stu stiffened his back and rolled his wide shoulders. His reddened features remained solid as a stone image. “If you were a gentleman, you’d stay away from my daughter like I told you!”

  “Sir, I have very strong feelings toward Diana. I know she likes me. She has said so. Please be reasonable. Diana is eighteen years old. She is a young woman, no longer a child. She has a right to male companionship. I would love to date her so if something is supposed to develop between us, it will have the opportunity. With all due respect, sir, you shouldn’t stand in the way of Diana finding the right young man for her.”

  The crowd on the street was growing, and people were gawking at the potentially violent scene. Most of them knew Stu Morrow, and that he had an uncontrollable temper.

  Stu stood there, looking at Tom with flaming eyes, his rage growing hotter. His mouth was dry, and his voice sounded as if it were coming from outside his own body as he bellowed, “Don’t you get insolent with me, bub!”

  “I’m not being insolent, Mr. Morrow,” Tom said defensively. “I’m just trying to reason with you. You are not being fair to Diana.”

  Stu’s big right fist struck out savagely. It connected with Tom’s jaw and sent him sprawling into the dusty street.

  Diana let out a tiny squeal, her hands going to her mouth. Deborah looked on, anguish twisting her young face. The boys stared, openmouthed, as did many in the crowd.

  For a moment the world spun and blurred in front of Tom Wymore’s eyes. There was extreme pain in his jaw. He gasped. His breath caught and his vision cleared, and he saw Stu Morrow—big as a mountain—coming toward him.

  Tom tried to get up but before he could, Stu sent a swift, vicious kick into his ribs, driving the breath out of him. Cursing him, Stu kicked him repeatedly in the ribs, doubling him over with the pain.

  People in the crowd stood frozen in place. Stu was too big and strong for any of the men present to take him on.

  In desperation, Tom grasped Stu’s foot when he was kicked for the seventh or eighth time and twisted it with all the strength he had left. Surprised, the big man went down, making a cloud of dust as he hit the street.

  At the same time, Tom scrambled to his feet, holding his ribs.

  While Stu was swearing and getting up, Tom said in a tight, pain-filled voice, “Mr. Morrow, fighting isn’t going to settle anything. As Diana’s father, you must realize that she has a right to a normal life, and to happiness.”

  Diana and her siblings were clinging to each other, fear evident in their faces.

  Breathing hotly, Stu gained his feet and stood to full height. His big head settled into his shoulders until his neck was no longer visible, and there was a low, rumbling sound in his throat. He charged Tom like an angry bull, swinging both fists.

  While Tom was trying to avoid the fists without striking back, one man said he was going after a constable. Even as the man hurried away, Stu overwhelmed Tom with one powerful blow after another. Diana let out a cry as Tom went down, sprawling on his back, obviously unconscious. He was bleeding at the nose and mouth.

  By this time, Martha Morrow had come out of the store and was standing with her children, looking on in horror.

  Suddenly Diana rushed to Tom, sobbing as she dropped to her knees beside him. “Tom!” she cried, while caressing his face. “Tom! Wake up!”

  While the crowd observed the scene, Stu barked at his wife: “Martha, get the kids in the wagon!”

  “But … but … the groceries,” she said.

  “Forget the groceries!” Stu boomed. “Do what I tell you!”

  Martha said to the boys and Deborah, “Do as your father said.”

  While Derick was helping his mother up into the seat and Daniel was lifting his little brother into the wagon bed, Deborah climbed in on her own, weeping.

  Stu stood over the sobbing Diana, and growled, “Get in the wagon, girl!”

  Diana looked up through a veil of tears. “He’s hurt, Papa! Can’t you see he’s unconscious? He needs a doctor!”

  Stu grabbed her by the arm and jerked her to her feet. “I said get in the wagon!”

  Wincing from the pain, Diana blinked against her tears. “But Papa! I’ve got to help him.”

  “Someone else can do that!” said Stu. “He should have stayed away from you like I told him. If he needs a doctor, it’s his own fault.”

  “Papa, I can’t leave him! I’ve got to make sure he’s taken care of.”

  Stu swore, picked her up, carried her to the wagon bed, and roughly dumped her in. She was sobbing as he climbed into the seat beside a horrified Martha, snapped the reins, and put the horses in motion. When traffic cleared at the intersection in front of him, he put the team to a gallop.

  As th
ey left the outskirts of Richmond, Diana slumped over and continued to cry. Deborah, who sat beside her, took hold of her sister’s hand, squeezing it tight. Derick moved to the other side and took hold of the other hand.

  Martha reached back from the seat and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, honey. Tom will be taken care of. Those people who were there will see that he gets to a doctor.”

  “It’s his own fault!” growled Stu without looking back. “I told him in plain words to stay away from her! He defied me, he got hurt.”

  Martha looked at her husband. “You didn’t have to hit him, and you didn’t have to be so brutal.”

  Stu met her gaze coldly. “He got what he deserved. Maybe now he’ll listen to me.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t argue with me, woman! I’m in no mood for it.”

  Martha bit her lower lip, looked back at her sobbing daughter, and patted her shoulder. Diana looked up at her, blinking at her tears.

  Dennis crawled up close to his big sister. “Don’t worry, Diana. Tom will be all right.”

  Diana released her hand from Derick’s grip long enough to tenderly pat Dennis’s cheek. “I hope so.”

  When the Morrows arrived home and entered the house, Diana was still weeping over Tom.

  “That’s enough bawling, Diana. Dry it up! You were as wrong as Tom was. You shouldn’t have been standing there on the street, talking to him. You’re supposed to obey me, and instead, you defy me.”

  Wiping tears, Diana said, “Papa, why are you so unreasonable? What Tom said was true. I have a right to a normal life and happiness. And you are keeping me from both. Why? Why can’t I date like other girls? And don’t tell me it’s because I’m too young. You and I both know that isn’t true.”

  Martha saw the rage building in her husband. She stepped up beside Diana, touched her arm, and said, “Honey, let’s you and I get lunch started.”

  “Just a minute!” boomed Stu, the rage blazing in his eyes. “Diana, you’ve got no business talking to me like that! You need to learn a lesson!”