Authors: R.D. Sherrill
Elizabeth
cast her eyes toward her bedside. She was too weak to raise her hand to point.
“In
the music box, the one you used to love to listen to when you were a little
thing, there’s a piece of paper with her name and address if you want it,”
Elizabeth said. “Just remember son, be careful what you ask because you may
just get answers you don’t want to hear.”
The
revelation that his birth mother was still alive combined with the terminal
illness of the only woman he had ever called mother was overwhelming, even for
the battle hardened veteran. How could he live his whole life without even a
suspicion that his real mother was alive? What about his father? Was he alive
too?
“What
about my father?” Ben asked.
His
mother sat silently, her eyes closed again. The question was obviously
disturbing to her.
“You
have no father,” Elizabeth said coolly. “I’ve already said too much, more than
I should have.”
“But
…” Ben began.
“Enough
about these things. I’ve cleared my conscience,” Elizabeth said. “Let’s talk
about pleasant things in the time I have left.”
And
talk they did, the next hour spent strolling down memory lane, recalling the
good times, laughing and crying as they reminisced. Ben was there when she
breathed her last. He was still clutching her hand as she passed. He would
later recall it was both the best hour and worst hour of his life.
Ben
resisted the temptation to open the music box for the next couple of days as he
took care of his mother’s final arrangements. A steady stream of well-wishers
came for visitation at the funeral parlor. His mother was a beloved member of
the community given her work with various benevolence groups that helped the
needy of Castle County. Her face was also well-known in social circles given
her work at city hall where she served as administrative assistant to the mayor
for his entire administration.
She
had been one of his first hires when he was elected. The job kept their small
family afloat shortly after Trent left them high and dry. Mayor Glenn
Satterfield was one of the well-wishers that passed her casket during
visitation. He offered his sincerest condolences, extending his clammy hand to
Ben as he rambled on about how sorely Elizabeth would be missed. While the
income she brought home from her job at city hall kept them off welfare, Ben
had never cared much for the mayor. There was something about him he just
didn’t trust even as a child. Now, as an adult, the feeling was doubly
strong.
Perhaps
it was a sixth sense or perhaps he was just a good judge of character. However,
being the soft-spoken gentleman his mother had raised, Ben smiled and accepted
the mayor’s hand, thanking him for coming to offer his condolences. As far as
he knew, the mayor had done nothing to hurt his mother during the years she
worked for him. In Ben's book, the fate that would befall anyone who hurt his
mother would be far worse than any pain and suffering he had inflicted during
combat. Something like that wouldn’t be business, it would be personal. You
don’t mess with a man’s mother.
The
cold November rain fell the day they buried Elizabeth. A sea of black umbrellas
surrounded the graveside as the minister offered a few last words. Ben stood
over her casket as they lowered it into the ground, tossing a single white rose
into the open grave as the rain dripped off his brow. His mother was gone.
It
was later that day Ben allowed himself to again think about the things
Elizabeth told him from her death bed. Should he open the music box or should
he go on with his life and ignore the fact his birth mother was still alive?
After all, she had lived anonymously for all these years, taking no actions to
contact him. Why had she given up her own child? And what of the horrible
secret Elizabeth referred to? How could anything be so horrible that a mother would
give up her baby without looking back?
Ben
sat alone at the kitchen table at his family home after the funeral. He eyed
the music box for several minutes trying to decide what to do. He was still
soaked to the bone, a towel draped over his shoulders and a hot cup of coffee
in his hands cutting the fall chill.
“This
is silly,” Ben mumbled to himself as he grabbed the box and opened it.
He
froze as the song began to play. The familiar tune sent him back in time to his
childhood when he would listen to the music box. It was a care-free time, a
time when everything was good with the world. How he missed those times.
Resisting
the urge to cry, Ben seized the piece of paper from the box. He took a breath
and opened it – Gina Porter, 1043 Walker Street, Shelby.
There
it was in black and white. His birth mother lived just a couple of hours up the
road. He realized he had to go. If nothing else, he wanted to find out why she
abandoned him as an infant. Besides, it was a short drive and he had ninety
days until his return to active duty. Why not meet his mother? He would drive
up the following day.
As
was the case with Sheriff Delaney three months later, finding out the address
was to Shelby Mental Health Institute was quite a surprise. Elizabeth had left
out that piece of information. However, he had come this far so he may as well
at least go in for a few minutes. What could a short visit hurt?
Ben
was pleasantly surprised by the reception he got from the cute brunette working
the front desk. Her flirty smile made him feel welcome. He could tell she liked
him on first sight, something that didn’t bother the young soldier one bit.
“Hey,
do you have someone by the name Gina Porter here?” Ben asked the receptionist.
“Yes,
she’s a resident,” the girl responded.
“Do
you have visiting hours or something like that here?” Ben continued. “Do you
like have to make an appointment or something like that?”
“No,
not at all,” Helen responded with a slight giggle. “Our residents can have
visitors anytime during regular hours. Who should I say is here?”
“Tell
her Ben is here to see her,” he replied. “She’ll know who you mean.”
Helen
made a call and pointed Ben down the hall.
“She’ll
see you,” Helen announced as she gave Ben directions to her room.
Ben
was surprised by what he found in the facility. Instead of screaming lunatics
wandering the halls, he found well-kept rooms and pleasant surroundings, a
couple of patients actually pointing him to Gina’s dormitory when he got turned
around in the hallway. He had traversed the rugged mountain peaks and passes of
Afghanistan at peril of ambush every turn yet he couldn’t navigate his way down
the halls of a mental institution.
Ben
paused for a moment outside her door as he recalled Elizabeth’s warning that he
should beware of the answers he may find.
“Gina
Porter?” Ben asked in a quiet voice as he pushed open the door.
Sitting
crossed-legged in a chair, a drawing pad on her lap, Gina continued scrawling
away. She didn't bother looking up at her visitor.
“You
shouldn’t have come,” she declared unceremoniously, her disheveled long dark
hair covering her face. “Elizabeth broke her promise.”
“Elizabeth
is dead,” Ben revealed as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind
him. “She died from cancer a few days ago.”
“I’m
sorry. I didn’t know,” Gina said apologetically.
She
paused her drawing for a moment and looked off into space like she was recalling
her old friend.
“She
was a good person,” she said simply before she returned to her drawing.
Waiting
for a moment in awkward silence, Ben cleared his throat in hopes of attracting
her attention. She continued her drawing.
“She
told me that you were my birth mother,” Ben declared.
His
statement caused her only a slight pause before she again went about her
drawing.
“Well,
is it true?” Ben asked.
The
question prompted Gina to look up for the first time. Peering at Ben from
underneath her long dark bangs, her face wrinkled beyond her years, Gina
responded in a cold tone that sent a shiver down Ben's spine.
“You
wouldn’t be my son if it weren’t for her,” Gina said. “I wanted to get rid of
you before you were born but she talked me out of it.”
Ben
was speechless. His mother had just admitted she wanted to abort him while he
was in the womb. His life was spared only by Elizabeth’s pleas.
“But
why? How could you even think about something like that?” Ben asked
incredulously.
“Because
you were conceived out of evil!” Gina hissed. “You are demon spawn.”
Ben
was shocked by the venom that was spewing from her mouth. Her wild eyes and her
shrill tone told him she was eaten up with hatred.
“What
do you mean?” Ben asked.
“There’s
some things best left alone,” Gina replied.
Ben
stepped over to where Gina was sitting and took the sketch pad from her hands.
Laying it aside, he looked directly into her brown eyes.
“I
have a right to know,” Ben stated squarely. “Elizabeth said there was some
horrible incident that made you give me up when I was a baby.”
“Careful
what you ask. You may just get the answers you don’t want to hear,” Gina said
as she returned Ben’s gaze.
Her
wording was eerily akin to what Elizabeth told him on her death bed. However,
Ben didn't care. He wanted answers, no matter the consequences.
“I’m
a big boy now,” Ben countered. “I think I can take it.”
“You
were a child of rape!” Gina screamed, standing up as she growled her words out
from between clenched teeth. “I was raped when I was just a teenager and got
pregnant with you. I couldn’t keep you knowing every time I looked at you I’d
remember what those animals did to me. Frankly, I was afraid what I might do to
you. I couldn’t trust myself.”
Ben
hadn’t seen that coming. Her explanation made him take a seat as he digested
what he just learned. Three days ago he was just another adopted child living
your average life. Now he was speaking with his birth mother who was telling
him he was an unwanted child of rape.
“You
said they did this to you. What do you mean?” Ben wondered.
“There
were six of them,” Gina said as she sat back down. “It was at an old bar called
the Red Dog. It burned down a short time later, I guess about twenty-two years
ago. I was there for my eighteenth birthday when it happened. They were all
drunk and forced me to do things - terrible things.”
Ben
shook his head in disgust. He tried to fathom what kind of monsters would do
something so heinous to a young girl.
“Your
mother, well Elizabeth, she was with me that night,” Gina revealed. “We were
having fun until she left with her boyfriend. One of the guys at the bar was
supposed to take me home but things got out of hand after she left. She always
felt guilty for what happened, kind of like she was partially responsible since
she was my older friend. She felt like she abandoned me that night. I think
that’s why she volunteered to take you, partly out of a feeling of
responsibility for what happened.”
Ben
put his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his short hair. The
answers, just as Elizabeth predicted, were painful.
“What
happened to the men who did this to you?” Ben asked angrily.
“Nothing.
Absolutely nothing,” Gina snarled.
“What
do you mean nothing?” Ben asked. “How can you just rape someone in a bar and
get away free and clear?”
“No
one would believe me,” Gina tearfully revealed. “Some of them had connections
and they were able to get it buried. Then the sheriff came to see me and
suggested I should keep my mouth shut if I didn’t want bad things to happen.
Then the bar burned down a couple of days later. They wanted to get rid of the
owner because they were afraid he would tell what he saw.”
“He
saw what happened?” Ben asked.
“Yes,
he watched,” she replied. “He was there the whole time but did nothing. I guess
they were afraid he would have an attack of conscience and do the right thing
so they burned the place down with him in it.”
“So
they killed him?” Ben asked.
“They
thought they killed him,” Gina said with a wry smile. “I found out a few years
ago they didn’t get the job done. He’s still alive.”
Ben
stored the information about Earl Cutts away for later use. A witness was still
alive - a witness who had seen everything yet didn’t lift a finger to help.
“You
said the sheriff warned you to be quiet. Why would he do that?” Ben asked.
“Because
his son was the ringleader,” Gina responded. “You’ve probably heard of him. He
runs the big car lot in Easton. His name is Bart Foster. His father is the
former sheriff, Bill Foster.”
Ben
was floored by Gina’s revelation. One of Easton’s biggest businessmen was a
rapist and attempted murderer.
“So
it went to high places,” Ben whistled.