The Wind Harp

by BJ Hoff

  Jonathan dropped to his heels. “What happened?” he asked Maggie. Carefully, he turned the boy onto his back. Huey was conscious, his eyes open, but he looked dazed.

  “According to Selma, he climbed up in the tree at the beginning of recess,” Maggie said. “Apparently he was just sitting there, watching the others play. When he started to come down, he fell.”

  Jonathan raised the boy’s head a little, supporting him with his arm. “Huey? How do you feel?”

  The boy offered nothing but a quiet, “All right.” After quickly checking him over for any possible broken bones, Jonathan picked him up and carried him inside the building, laying him on the bench in his office.

  “Do you need anything, Jonathan?”

  He saw Carolyn turn a sharp look on Maggie, who seemed unaware of the other’s scrutiny and the fact that she’d used Jonathan’s given name.

  In an effort to not show that the slip had pleased him, he shook his head, keeping his attention on the Lazlo boy as he dropped to one knee beside him. “You took quite a fall, young man,” he said, helping Huey out of his sweater—much too thin for the autumn chill of the day.

  “You seem to have torn your sweater in a couple of places when you fell, Huey. I’m afraid you may have a few scrapes or cuts. I’d better have a look.”

  Something flared in the boy’s eyes. He clutched at his shirt before Jonathan could so much as undo a button.

  Jonathan hesitated, then turned to glance at Maggie and Carolyn. “I wonder if you ladies would round up the children and take them inside? And then, Maggie, you can go on with your class. And, Carolyn, could you take my students for a while? I believe I’ll stay here with Huey a few more minutes.”

  After the women left his office, Jonathan pushed the door closed and went back to Huey. “Do you think you can stand up, son?”

  Huey nodded and climbed off the bench to face Jonathan, one small hand still clutching the collar of his faded blue shirt. Jonathan spied a blood spot in front, but when he moved to open the top button to see if perhaps the boy was hurt worse than he’d first thought, Huey twisted away.

  “I won’t hurt you, son. But I think you might have some scrapes that need to be cleaned. Just let me have a look.”

  Much to Jonathan’s dismay, the boy’s dark eyes took on a look of fear.

  “Huey?”

  When the boy didn’t reply, but merely stood there, clinging to his shirt, Jonathan made no further move toward him. Still, he couldn’t simply ignore the blood on his shirt.

  Jonathan hesitated another moment, then made a decision. “Would you rather I have Miss MacAuley check you over, Huey?”

  The boy didn’t look at him, but shook his head.

  “No? Well, then, it’s up to you and me, it seems.”

  Jonathan sat down on the bench so he’d be at eye level with the boy. “Here, son. Let’s have a look.”

  Finally, with obvious reluctance, the boy came to him. It took him only a moment to understand the reason for Huey’s peculiar behavior. Upon opening the child’s shirt enough to examine him, the first thing that caught Jonathan’s attention wasn’t what he had expected. Instead of a bad cut or scratch from the fall—though there were enough minor ones to explain the blood spot on the shirt—a map of ugly, dark bruises blotched the thin chest.

  Huey never lifted his gaze from the floor. Slowly, carefully, Jonathan turned him around, pulling his shirt up enough to look at his back, only to find the same appalling sight.

  He swallowed down the mix of sickness and anger rising in his throat. Then, trying to steady his hands, Jonathan turned the boy back to face him, holding him gently by his too-thin shoulders. “Who did this to you, Huey?”

  The boy made no reply but simply stared at the floor.

  “Huey? I need to know who hurt you.” He paused. “It’s all right to tell me, son.”

  The boy raised his head, his dark eyes still not quite meeting Jonathan’s. “Nobody hurt me,” he said in a small, choked voice. “I fall down a lot.”

  “You didn’t do this falling down, Huey.” The child jerked, and too late Jonathan realized that he’d raised his voice, startling the boy.

  “Talk to me, son,” he said, carefully lowering his voice to a near whisper. “Tell me who did this. Your father?”

  A flash of fear again darted across the child’s features, and he gave a vehement shake of his head. Then, in a slow, forlorn gesture that wrenched Jonathan’s heart, the boy wiped the back of his hand over his eyes, obviously trying not to cry.

  Finally Jonathan dropped his hands away and straightened, trying to think what to do. This wasn’t the first time he’d dealt with a case of violence against a child. But it was the first time a child seemed so intent on keeping his silence once the mistreatment had been discovered.

  “I’ll be back in a moment, Huey,” he said quietly, trying not to betray his own emotion. “Wait here for me.”

  He stepped outside his office, closing the door behind him and stood there, his heart pounding. Huey was Maggie’s student, and therefore he was obligated to make her aware of the situation. And he would—but first he needed to collect his thoughts.

  He had been suspicious of the Lazlo boy’s home life ever since last year, and especially after his and Maggie’s visit to the parents. But until now there had been no evidence of any physical mistreatment. How long had this child been suffering and hiding his pain without anyone knowing what he was going through?

  That man—that awful man. How could a human being do this to a child? To his own son?

  Jonathan had been through this before, so he recognized the familiar queasiness and anger rising up in him. Shaking, he stood with one hand behind him, still grasping the doorknob, and, still grasping the doorknob, stared out into the hallway.

  Maggie’s classroom was across from his office, her desk in direct view. At the moment she was seated and reading to her students. As if she sensed him watching her, she glanced up and met his gaze.

  Jonathan crossed the hall and, managing a smile for the children, said, “Excuse me, Miss MacAuley. May I speak with you a moment?”

  Maggie stood, putting a finger to her lips as a caution for the children to remain quiet, and stepped outside the room.

  “Huey?” she asked. “Is he badly hurt?”

  He passed a hand over the back of his neck. “Yes, he’s hurt,” Jonathan said, his voice tight. “But not from the fall.”

  She gave him a questioning look.

  “He’s been beaten. Badly. And over a long period of time, from the looks of it.”

  Maggie gave a low groan, her expression stricken.

  “I’d like you to take a quick look at his sister. Check for bruising or any other marks on her arms and legs. They’ll both have to be examined by Dr. Woodbridge, of course, but I’d like to know what you think before I leave with them. I’m hoping one or the other might talk to me once we’re out of the building.”

  “Jonathan, have you heard anything about the new doctor just outside town? Dr. Woodbridge can be…somewhat gruff at times.”

  “I’ve heard that a lady doctor has set up practice, yes, but I’m not comfortable with taking any of the children out there until we know more about her.”

  “I think maybe that’s who Eva Grace might want to see instead of—”

  She stopped.

  “What about Eva Grace? Is she ill?”

  Maggie glanced away. “I’ll tell you later.”

  Jonathan studied her. Just as he’d suspected, there was something wrong. And clearly it had to do with her older sister. He would have pressed her to explain, but there was no time.

  “We’ll talk later,” he said. “For now, I’d like you to get Selma and take her down to the end of the hall. Just explain to her that Huey is hurt worse than we first thought. That will give you a chance to have a look at her, and she’ll be more comfortable with you than with me. I can keep an eye on your students and Huey at the same time. Oh—and get her belonging
s together, would you, along with Huey’s?” He paused. “They won’t be going home tonight.”

  “Where will they stay?”

  “Unfortunately, we’ve had to deal with this sort of thing before. Ben and Regina Wallace will keep them as long as necessary. I can’t possibly send them home until we know what the situation is.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening in Skingle Creek!” Maggie burst out. “How can one human being do this to another, to someone he’s supposed to love?”

  Jonathan knew Maggie had a heart for the children, and he also knew she had a tendency to take their pain upon herself. But the strength of her reaction to the situation still surprised him.

  “There’s no understanding it, Maggie. I know. I’ve dealt with it more than once over the years, and I still can’t fathom what accounts for this sort of cruelty.” His mind was spinning. There was so much to do when a situation like this came to light, and it had to be done quickly…and carefully.

  “About dismissal. I’ll have Carolyn take my class until then. Will you help her get the children on their way after the bell?”

  She nodded.

  He continued to tick off what needed to be done. “I’ll have to stop by the deputy’s office on the way back from the doctor’s. The parents have to be notified that Huey and Selma won’t be home tonight, and it needs to be done by someone in authority.”

  Her eyes widened. “That’s going to frighten the children. Isn’t there another way?”

  Jonathan shook his head. “I have to report it as soon as possible. I can’t simply take the children off somewhere without the parents knowing about it.”

  “They don’t deserve to know,” she said, anger sharpening her tone. “I still don’t understand how something this horrible can go on here. This is a town of good people, Jonathan.”

  “For the most part, I’m sure you’re right. But this sort of ugliness can happen anywhere. All it takes is a soul living in darkness, apart from God, and this—and even worse—can happen. And does.”

  He reached to touch her arm, and then thought better of it. “You go on now and see to Selma. We’ll do everything we can to take care of her and Huey.”

  Again she nodded and turned to go.

  A few minutes later, after taking Selma back to class, Maggie reported to Jonathan what she’d found. “Nothing,” she said. “I checked as closely as I could without alarming her. I didn’t see any sign that she’s been hurt in any way. I told her about Huey, but she wouldn’t say a word. I think she’s afraid.”

  Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck, where a headache was beginning to work its way up his skull. “Well, we’ll see what the doctor has to say. I wish I knew for certain that Selma hasn’t been mistreated. I’d leave her for now. I don’t think either one of those children is going to tell me what’s going on as long as they’re together. But if I don’t take her to the doctor, I won’t know for sure that she’s all right.”

  “Maybe you could talk with Mrs. Wallace and suggest she help Selma get ready for bed tonight,” Maggie said quietly, watching him. “It might save the girl from having a doctor’s examination.”

  As awkward as it was, Jonathan had to bring something else up. “There are different kinds of ill-treatment, Maggie,” he said quietly. “Some can’t always be seen.”

  She didn’t meet his gaze, but responded without hesitation. “I know about that, Jonathan. But Selma is more likely to confide in a woman than in Dr. Woodbridge. I’m afraid she might withdraw even more if she’s subjected to…too intensive an examination.”

  It took him only a moment to see the wisdom of her words.

  In the end, he decided to take Selma with him, but to forego the doctor’s examination for the time being. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, so you don’t have to stay over too long. Check on my class once or twice, would you? Just to make sure Carolyn doesn’t need any help. The older ones can get a bit feisty with her. They’ve been known to give her a difficult time because she’s not a teacher.”

  “I’ll take care of things until you get back. You know I will.”

  The thing was, he did know. He had always been able to count on Maggie, and he still could. In truth, he didn’t know how he would manage without her.

  What’s more, he hoped he would never have to find out.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Pain of Caring

  I had a thought for no one’s but your ears;

  That you were beautiful, and that I strove

  To love you in the old high way of love.

  W.B. Yeats

  By half past four, Huey had been seen by Dr. Woodbridge, who confirmed the appalling fact that just as Jonathan suspected, the boy had been the victim of numerous beatings for an extended period of time. Huey refused to break his silence.

  From the doctor’s office, Jonathan went in search of the deputy, leaving Huey in an adjoining room while he discussed the boy’s condition with the peace officer. Afterward, he drove back to the school, collected Maggie and Selma, and took the children to the home of Ben and Regina Wallace.

  From past experience, Jonathan knew the children would be well-cared for with affection by the pastor and his wife until more information could be collected about the Lazlos. When he tried to explain to Huey and his sister why this was something they had to do, he avoided making it sound like a permanent situation.

  There was a heartbreaking moment when little Huey, obviously trying hard not to cry, tugged at Jonathan’s arm, his dark eyes filled with unmistakable fear. “Please, Mr. Stuart, can’t Sister and I stay with you instead of those other people?” He swiped a hand at the heavy shock of hair covering his eye. “Please?”

  It was a question Jonathan had asked himself, and at first he’d been about to take them home. But he thought it important that Selma, especially, be under the care of a woman and Ben and Regina were well equipped to look after both children.

  He dropped down and tried, gently, to explain this to Huey. Although the child appeared to accept the explanation, his shuttered gaze and lapse into silence tore at Jonathan’s heart.

  What Jonathan didn’t mention was the fact that if it came to the point that the children had to be taken out of school temporarily, Regina Wallace would be at home full-time to look after them. They simply could not be left alone, not for a moment. Besides, Huey and his sister could only benefit from the love and kind attention Regina and Ben would offer. Their time spent with the Wallaces just might be the beginning of a healing process.

  All the way to Ben and Regina’s place, Jonathan silently fumed over his earlier exchange with the deputy sheriff. The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became. The law officer hadn’t been in the least encouraging about the children’s future, explaining that although the boy might be removed from the home, it wasn’t likely that his sister would be.

  “Mr. Stuart, unless there’s evidence that the little girl has been mistreated along with her brother, she’ll have to go back to her folks. No matter how long Pastor Ben and his wife might be willing to let them stay there, we can’t keep the girl away from her own parents indefinitely.”

  Jonathan couldn’t believe what the man was saying. “You’d send her back into that place, knowing what’s been going on with the boy? How can you possibly justify that?”

  He saw the deputy bristle and regretted offending the man. But he couldn’t simply stand by and say nothing when in all likelihood Selma would eventually be victimized as her brother had been.

  “I don’t have to justify it, sir,” the deputy said. “All I do is enforce the law, and unless we find evidence to the contrary, we have to assume there’s no reason to keep the girl away from her folks. And let me tell you something else. If the boy doesn’t speak up and give us some proof that his pa was the one who’s been beating him, we won’t be able to keep him away from his parents for very long either.”

  Jonathan had all he could do not to shout at the man. “You’ve seen the proof,”
he said, ignoring the tremor in his voice. “The boy has been beaten repeatedly on his back and his abdomen. What else do you need?”

  “It’s proof only if he’ll admit that the beatings were his pa’s doing,” the deputy rejoined with an annoying shrug. “You’d just better make sure the little fella is willing to talk. You said so far he hasn’t told you a thing.”

  “Aren’t you even going to arrest the father?”

  “No, sir. I can’t do that yet. We’ll have to investigate first. The only thing I can do right now is go up there and let them know that the boy and his sister won’t be coming home for a spell.”

  When they arrived at the Wallaces’ house, Maggie and the children went with Regina while Jonathan talked with Ben. Ben was as outraged as Jonathan once he learned what the deputy had said. But he wasn’t surprised. “We’ve been through this before, Jonathan. I don’t like it any better than you do, but we both know it’s the way things work.”

  “It seems that things don’t work at all,” Jonathan grumbled, “especially when it comes to our children.”

  Later, as he and Maggie were in the buggy and leaving the Wallaces’ house, it started to rain. Jonathan hurried to get out and put the cover up. “I have to go back to the school and pick up my things,” he said, stepping back inside. “Shall I take you home first?”

  Maggie shook her head. “I need time to settle myself. I shouldn’t go home this upset.”

  Jonathan made no move to drive away yet. Instead he turned toward her. “Maggie—what’s wrong?”

  She looked at him but made no reply.

  “Maggie?”

  “You have enough to deal with for the time being,” she said. “You don’t need anything else to fret about.”

  His mood gentled as he studied her. “If it concerns you,” he said quietly, “I’m going to fret all the more not knowing what it is. When we get back to the school, why don’t I make some coffee and we’ll talk.” He waited. “All right?”