The toil of caring for Mary wore Cheryl down, obviously so. Cheryl grew quiet and unhappy, withdrawing into herself. After struggling impotently with Mary longer than they should have, they admitted defeat, and checked Mary into the Lakawatomie Mental Facility.
The police’s perfunctory investigation yielded no results. Matt never mentioned his suspicions. He had no proof. But he knew—in his gut, he fully knew—what had happened.
Matt’s sick, son-of-a-bitch father had raped and impregnated his own daughter.
Chapter Five
Edwin’s daughter, Mary, had been the last child to remain in the family home. And Edwin never knew her, not really. There were only so many hours in the day. Working in the fields occupied most of his time when he wasn’t sleeping.
Mary had never been much to look at, in Edwin’s opinion, but she’d proven her worth around the house after Gretchen passed. She cooked fairly well. Gretchen had taught her everything she needed to know about taking care of the men at the farm. The way it should be.
About a month after Gretchen moved on to her higher reward, Edwin grew agitated. Antsy, almost. It’d been some time since he’d experienced the comforts of a woman. Gretchen, in the last year of her life, hadn’t been up to fulfilling her wifely duties.
Late one evening, the chores completed, Edwin found himself literally pacing the floors. Mary retired to her bedroom, leaving Edwin alone to consider his options. Like a caged animal, he prowled the room, rubbing his scraggly day’s growth of beard. Then he knocked gently on Mary’s bedroom door.
“Yes?” responded her typically timid voice.
“Mary?”
“Yes?” No inflection to her tone. Since her mother’s death, Mary had become a hollow shell of a person. She slept little, the telltale signs of dark circles ringing her eyes. She never conversed with Edwin beyond the topics of meals. He never saw her laugh, never saw her cry, never saw her do much of anything, truth to tell. Edwin took it in stride; just the way God made her.
“I need to talk to you,” said Edwin.
After a long hesitation, she opened the door. One of Gretchen’s long nightgowns rested loosely around Mary’s shoulders, the dirty bottom trailing along the floor.
“Now, you’ve been doing a real good job at taking up your momma’s responsibilities, Mary.”
She nodded silently, her eyes flitting about the hallway, never meeting his gaze.
“And you know, the Good Book says that it’s a woman’s place to take care of the men-folk.” She stepped back into the room. “It’s time you took it upon yourself to fulfill the rest of your momma’s…obligations.”
Her shoulders caved in, the oversized nightgown surrounding her thin body like a large blanket. “But…I’m doing everything Momma did,” she said meekly.
“Not everything.” He walked into the room, closing the door behind him. Edwin grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and pushed her onto the small bed. Mary screamed, burying her face in her hands.
“It’s your duty.” Edwin smiled, sliding his overalls down to the floor.
Edwin continued his nocturnal visits for the next seven months. Mary had all but quit speaking, and while not willingly accepting his advances, she at least quit fighting him. Sure, she still cried, but she lay there as a woman should, accepting her lot in life.
Eventually, Edwin noticed her weight gain. Fury overtook him when he suspected her secretly stocking away more than her fair ration of food. But he waited until he finished his nightly visit before confronting her.
“Mary. You sneaking food for yourself?”
She shook her head, her long, greasy hair slapping against the bed.
“Well, then, how do you explain the belly you’re now showin’?”
She turned her head to the side, shut her eyes, and wailed. Edwin placed his hand down on her exposed stomach.
“Well, I’ll be goddamned. You’re pregnant.” A lop-sided grin crawled across his face. Edwin laughed while Mary squeezed her eyes shut tighter. “It’d better be a boy. I need the help in the fields. God is once again smiling down on me!” Edwin rolled off his daughter and sat on the edge of the bed.
He should have never doubted God’s plan. Worries had plagued him about getting the fieldwork done, but help came in the form of a blessing from above. The Good Book says to be fruitful and multiply. And he always did his best to live by the written word.
Two months later, Edwin heard a scream ring out from the kitchen window. He turned the tractor around and raced for the house.
Mary lay on the kitchen floor, blood spreading underneath her onto the linoleum. “Get yourself into your bedroom, now!” Mary, defying her father, remained on the floor, writhing in her own waste. Edwin managed to drag her to her bedroom. He left Mary’s room and waited for his new son.
After several hours of Mary’s caterwauling, he reluctantly called Doc Collins. Hated doing it. The old farmhouse had witnessed the birth of many children without any outside intervention, after all. But with his new son’s health at potential risk, he finally relented. Besides, his weakling daughter didn’t appear up to the challenge.
Doc Collins arrived less than thirty minutes later.
“Mary’s giving birth, Edwin?” Collins asked him. Edwin felt his untrusting eyes sizing him up.
“Ayup, that’s right.”
“Who’s the father, if you don’t mind my askin’?”
“I do mind,” spat Edwin. “I do mind your askin’!”
Doc Collins stared at Edwin in stony silence while opening his bag. He followed Mary’s screams down the hallway. Before opening the bedroom door, Collins looked back again, favoring Edwin with a not-so-subtle headshake.
The doctor came out fifteen minutes later, his hands covered in blood. He looked snow-white in his black suit. Inside the room, Mary’s screams continued. “Edwin,” he said, his voice trembling, “we need to get Mary to a hospital…there may be some complications…”
“Ain’t gonna’ happen, Doc. Can’t afford it and I told you before, I don’t have any insurance. Can’t afford any—”
“But…” began the doctor before he lapsed into silence. Then he went back into the room. Thirty minutes later, a blessed hush fell over the house. Edwin waited in the living room, anxious for his new arrival. Finally, he heard a strange, moist gurgling. He raced for Mary’s room. Pushing the door open, he saw Doc Collins sitting on the edge of the bed, holding the swaddled infant. Mary lay in the bed, now quiet, her eyes closed.
“Edwin,” whispered Doc Collins, “the boy ain’t right.” Averting his gaze, Collins held the baby toward Edwin. The baby’s crying sounded different from any Edwin had ever heard: deeper, more strained. He grabbed the baby out of the doctor’s hands and yanked back the blanket. Edwin gasped. An abomination, no other word for it. The baby’s face looked grey as ashes. One eye was completely bone-white; the other fixed Edwin with a brown, liquid-like glare. The thing’s mouth opened and shut like a gutted catfish, squeezing out unnatural sounds. And it was larger, fatter—more muscular?—than two babies put together.
“What…what’s wrong with it, Doc?”
“I’m not sure.” Collins took out a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his forehead. “I’ve…never seen anything quite like it. I mean, it’s breathing and doing everything else a newborn should do. But…look at it.”
Edwin forced another glimpse. He nudged the baby’s balled up fist with his thumb. The baby lashed out, grabbed his thumb, and squeezed it hard. Edwin’s eyes opened wide.
He created a strong baby. A very strong baby.
Nothing wrong with my baby.
He held the farmhand God had delivered unto him.
“He’s fine, Doc,” said Edwin, his voice swelling with pride.
Doc Collins shook his head. “No, Edwin. No, it’s not. You need to get this baby and Mary to the Karlin hospital as soon as you can—”
“I already told you, Doc. That ain’t gonna’ happen.”
“Mary�
�s lost a lot of blood. She needs to be seen.”
“The Lord provides. There’ve been many babies born here in this house. We don’t need any outside help.”
Collins shot up and brushed past Edwin without saying a word. After he slammed the kitchen door behind him, he called out, “I’ll be back to check on them later.”
Edwin cradled his new god-sent son in his arms. “Joshua,” he whispered. “You shall be named Joshua.” The baby spat up dark liquid, dripping down onto Edwin’s chest. He didn’t mind, though. The Lord had once again answered his prayers.
Edwin heard Mary moan. He laid down the mewling baby next to her and went outside to continue his chores.
Two weeks later, Mary was gone. Edwin had driven into town for some feed. Upon returning, he checked her room and saw Joshua lying on the bed, alone, rolling across the rumpled blankets. Her emptied closet was the only farewell note she left. He slumped down onto the bed beside his son. What did he know about raising a boy by himself? The last two weeks were hard enough even with Mary’s help. If you could call it “help.” Some help. All she did was cry, stopping on occasion to scream. Between the non-stop howling of his daughter and son, he fell asleep every night with his pillow wrapped tightly around his head.
Now, for the first time ever, Edwin had to fend for himself. With the Good Lord’s guidance, though, he’d make it through this trial, hard as it would be. One of God’s toughest tests for him yet.
Edwin kept Joshua in Mary’s room, mainly to muffle the endless crying. He fed Joshua straight milk from the cows. No sense wasting money on that baby formula nonsense. Didn’t take long for him to graduate to adult food, either. Healthy appetite on that boy.
At times, though, Edwin had a hard time keeping up with Joshua. As the boy grew older, bigger, and stronger, so did his penchant for getting into trouble. Edwin locked him upstairs in the attic while he tilled the fields. Edwin took him outside a few times—testing the water, so to speak—but the results were disastrous. Once Joshua throttled a hen to death. Edwin found the boy in the henhouse, covered in blood and feathers, flapping the dead hen’s wings like a broken toy.
Walking came early for Joshua, though, earlier than for most infants. Soon, Edwin trained him in the simplest of chores, redirecting the boy’s violent tendencies toward productive work. The boy just needed to burn off nervous energy like a pent-up ’coon dog. Edwin’s life grew easier as the boy assumed more responsibilities. And, by God, the boy may have been a half-idiot, but he had a definite affinity for farm work. Between Edwin’s brains and Joshua’s speed and strength, they made a formidable farming team. Before all the cash flow and economy problems started, that was.
Now Edwin counted on his son’s strength for an entirely different matter.
Edwin and Joshua arrived at Barton High School at about 2:00 p.m. that hazy afternoon. Plenty of time before school let out. After driving up and down the parking lot’s full aisles, Edwin spotted the yellow Firebird and double-checked the license plate.
Edwin found an empty spot close by and parked. He slumped down in his seat, pulling his hat’s bill lower. After hushing Joshua, he instructed him to do the same.
“Dammit, boy, we’re here for work, not a joy ride to the big city.” Joshua grinned stupidly, happier than a pig in slop. “Just do what I say.” Edwin loosened the chloroform bottle’s cap and prepared the rag.
“Stay in the truck, boy.” Edwin took a quick glimpse around the parking lot. Seeing no one, he hopped out and went to the back of the truck. He loosened the hitch-knots on one side of the black tarp. Snagging a quick peek underneath, he took stock of his equipment: rope, extra rags, and chains, just in case he needed them.
From a distance, the school bell rang out. Jumping back into the truck, Edwin checked his watch. Three o’clock on the nose. Students exited the large brick building in droves, making their way toward the parking lot.
Look at all these kids, born with a silver spoon in their mouths, never having to do an honest day’s work in their lives. Their rich daddies buy them cars and slutty clothes so they can tool around town, fornicating like rabbits, no doubt.
Soon, Edwin caught sight of his prey. Lindsay Bellowes, decked out in a too-short skirt and black harlot stockings, true to her slut ways.
“That’s the one we want, Joshua,” Edwin said, gesturing toward the girl. He splashed chloroform onto the rag. When Joshua stuck out his ham-hock hand, Edwin quickly knocked it down.
“Hold on, boy!” A smaller girl with short, blonde hair and glasses accompanied Lindsay Bellowes. Soon, a tall boy with hippy hair joined them. A wrinkle in his plan. He hadn’t counted on the parking lot being so crowded, and he didn’t think his target would have company.
“Change of plans, boy.” He impatiently slapped his thigh with the damp rag. “I gotta’ think of something else.”
Joshua squealed. Edwin told him to shut his mouth.
Look at those jezebels! Making over the boy with their wanton eyes, flashing their legs in their scanty outfits, batting their whorish eyelashes. Ready to eat the boy up.
Things had changed since Edwin’s school days. Sure, he only made it to sixth grade in the one-room shack not far from his farm. And there were only two girls in his class, one of whom he ended up marrying. But never would he have acted so forward with those girls. Not one bit.
Edwin watched aghast as the shorter girl ran up to the boy and kissed him in public. He shook his head disgustedly, rolled down the window and spat onto the pavement.
Joshua watched the kiss between the boy and girl. He leaned forward, straining his heavy-lidded eyes open, and then yelped with delight. Or lust more than likely, Edwin thought.
“Okay, boy, here we go,” he said as the girls got into their car. “We’ll follow them hussies. Then, after Miss Lindsay Bellowes drops the other one off, we’ll grab her. Just do as I say.” Edwin hissed her name out with bitter venom, over-enunciating every syllable. He felt a sharp jab to his gut, recalling how disrespectfully she had treated him at the American Royal last year.
The yellow car pulled out of the parking lot. Edwin slipped his Ford into gear and followed. Recklessly, the Firebird swerved out onto a busier four-lane street. Edwin carefully obeyed the laws of the street without losing sight of his target. Once he safely entered the crowded street, he made a proper lane change and sped up. But not too closely behind them.
The sun-cracked tarp flapped in the wind behind them as Edwin picked up speed. He hoped it wouldn’t be too noticeable, but it couldn’t be helped. The tarp should’ve been tied down by now with Miss Lindsay Bellowes resting uncomfortably beneath it. On her way to meet her fate.
Joshua’s excitable behavior over the trampy teenage girls’ shameless behavior hadn’t escaped Edwin’s attention. Best to admonish the boy properly and right up front.
“Now, Joshua, I know you have boy urges.” He spoke slowly and clearly. “But I want you to keep this girl safe. I don’t want you acting on your animal instincts. Do you follow me, boy?” Edwin risked a momentary glance in Joshua’s direction to make certain he held his full attention.
Joshua clapped his hands lightly. Could mean anything.
Edwin followed the sluts for another fifteen minutes, quickly losing patience. Their wasteful joyride could go on for hours. He checked the gas gauge, hoping he wouldn’t have to stop to refill.
Finally, the girls exited off the four-lane street and turned into a suburban neighborhood. After winding their way through endless streets lined with towering trees, the yellow car slowed in front of a two-story, white house. Edwin checked the street sign.
Dammit, he thought, Oak Street. That’s where Miss Lindsay Bellowes lives. She ain’t gonna drop the other slut off at all.
Edwin idled the truck slowly, stopping caddy-corner and behind the Firebird. He kept his gaze locked on the car’s passengers. “Get ready, boy.” He re-doused the rag with chloroform and handed it to Joshua.
Much to Edwin’s aggravation, the girl
s sat in the car, talking. He looked over the neighborhood. Quiet and very few cars parked in the driveways along the street. Perfect.
It hadn’t been Edwin’s intention to be involved in this part of the plan. Ideally, he wanted Joshua to grab the girl and throw her under the truck tarp. However, with the addition of the other slut, he’d have to dirty his hands. A two-man job, but simple enough.
Reaching under the bench seat, he pulled out a tire iron. He snatched a piece of paper out of the glove box.
“Well, boy, looks like we’re gonna get both girls,” said Edwin. Not an unpleasant thought, to be honest. He might just save Miss Lindsay Bellowes for himself. And maybe he’d let Joshua indulge his urges when he finished with her. Maybe—just maybe—he could get twice the amount of money. A two-for-one sale. Yes, indeed. Much better than he hoped for.
Finally, the two girls wiggled across their seats to exit the car.
“Come on, boy,” Edwin whispered. “Stay in the truck ’til I grab the driver. Then you get the other one. And make sure both their purses get tossed back in their car.” Edwin knew every spoiled little girl had a cellular phone nowadays. He didn’t need the phones traveling with them. He’d thought of everything—a foolproof plan.
Edwin opened the truck door. The rusty hinges groaned, catching the two girls’ attention. Their heads swiveled, their expressions puzzled. Both girls stood silently by their open car doors.
“Excuse me, young ladies,” called Edwin. Waving the paper in front of him, he concealed the tire iron behind his back. He trotted to the driver’s side to confront Miss Lindsay Bellowes.
“Yes?” asked the blonde girl. Edwin detected fear on her face. His loins tingled.
“I believe I’m lost. I’m trying to find my aunt who resides in these here parts.” He thrust the paper toward Miss Lindsay Bellowes. “Could you take a look and maybe give me some directions?”
Godland Page 5
