Equal Access (8 page)

He wasn’t going to think about Brody.

The one thing the different types had in
common was their ability to continue their lives in relative peace
and security while upsetting the lives of victims. They were able
to keep the children silent by abuse of power. The control might be
as blatant as threatening to hurt or kill the child or a family
member or a pet if the victim told anyone. It might be as subtle as
Wally’s technique of convincing the child this was normal behavior,
and also by keeping the boy’s trust with attention and gifts.
Children were commonly told that nobody would believe them if they
said anything, and unfortunately this could easily be the case if
the molester were a friend or part of the family ... and many of
them were.

There was, however, another possibility for
Shad to consider.

Often when these predators were caught they
were sent into counseling. Statistically the counseling didn’t seem
to help much because the majority of perpetrators would commit the
same offense again. Occasionally counseling did seem to help when
certain individuals voluntarily entered therapy even though they
weren’t caught. But those people genuinely wanted to stop that
activity. Regardless, as far as pedophilia went, nobody knew what
caused it and therefore nobody had figured out how to eradicate
it.

There was no such thing as coincidence. Shad
figured there had to be a reason he discovered Wally now, only
weeks after he could no longer press criminal charges. Maybe Wally
had changed his ways ... but if that were the case, why did Shad
have to stumble upon that article at all? Was this some kind of
trial to determine if Shad was becoming the kind of lawyer his
parents should have been able to get seventeen years ago? Was he
being challenged to think outside the boundaries of the law in
order to secure justice?

Wasn’t he getting enough of that already with
Charissa’s case?

Because Shad wound up adopted into a branch
of faith that proclaimed God was still an active participant in
humanity’s affairs, and it was the responsibility of humanity to
respond to His calling, Shad became a lawyer. As much as that
sounded like an oxymoronic statement, it was still the result of
Shad’s first discernment that he was actually receiving divine
inspiration. Although the Society of Friends affirmed that everyone
had equal access to God, Shad often doubted he shared that much
potential. Certainly he had benefited from the inspiration received
by others, but his personal experience demonstrated more “quality”
than quantity. Begrudgingly he became an attorney. At least his
marriage to Dulsie seemed like a celestial reward. But now he had
to struggle with what to do about Wally.

And the very fact he harbored reluctance
about investigating the man produced evidence Shad had been
assigned the obligation to do exactly that. For many reasons it
would be easier to turn his back on this discovery and convince
himself that Wally was no longer a threat, rather than contend with
such a difficult assignment.

But children’s lives could be at stake. And
if Shad became an attorney because he was supposed to defend the
rights of the disadvantaged, then he had to fulfill his
responsibility. Giving up this challenge would only be an act of
cowardice and a mockery to his family.

See, I refine you, but not as silver; I test you in
the furnace of affliction.

--Isaiah 48:10

The meeting house for the local congregation
of the Society of Friends, better known to most of the world as
Quakers (when they weren’t being confused with Amish or Mennonite),
was a simple, white, rectangular building that stood amidst trees
along the rural highway. There wasn’t any kind of signage to
designate the structure’s purpose, and this was mostly because no
name had ever been assigned to it. The Friends of Osage County
didn’t need to differentiate themselves from any other groups of
Friends in the area because there were none. In a county where the
Catholics outnumbered every other variety of denomination, the
Osage Friends congregation was the smallest of the small.

Comprised of never more than a dozen
families, mostly farmers, they were one of the groups that
continued clinging to many of the old traditions while other
Friends churches across the country had changed. These people still
revered silence. Naturally there had been a few changes over the
years. The men and the women no longer sat on opposite sides of the
room. Family and friends stopped referring to each other as “Thee”
long ago. And nobody dressed like the dude on the oatmeal box,
although simple, “classic” clothing was preferred.

Once upon a time the group eschewed wedding
bands with all other jewelry, but Margaret Leeds had been the first
to break that tradition in this congregation. Her argument was that
marriage was a sacred state of union instituted by God from the
beginning to bring humanity closer to Him. For a husband and a wife
to make and keep a promise to each other was a reflection of the
promise God makes and keeps with His people. The Church was, after
all, the bride of Christ. Therefore married people should have an
outward “sign of the covenant” to silently proclaim God’s
promise.

Margaret Leeds showed up in the congregation
shortly after war broke out between the states. She was still only
a fourteen-year-old girl. Margaret was from Kentucky, the daughter
of a “mixed-blood” Cherokee mother and a slave trader father.
Unfortunately for her father’s profession, Margaret had become an
abolitionist and even helped some slaves to escape. When her father
discovered Margaret’s “treachery,” he threw her out of the
house.

Margaret stayed only briefly with some
Friends she had come to know while helping with their “line” of the
Underground Railroad. She feared if she lingered too long, her
father would cause them harm. The Friends told her they had some
relatives who lived in Missouri, in a town near that state’s
capital, which was surely far away enough to keep everybody safe.
While en route to her destination, Margaret received divine
inspiration that she should become a member of the Society of
Friends. Thus convinced, she entered the congregation and
eventually gained such renown locally that Margaret continued to be
referred to as “Leeds” even when she got married shortly after the
war ended.

Shad couldn’t imagine belonging to any other
denomination, or, for that matter, to the “programmed” Friends who
had preachers and sang hymns and pretty much looked like any other
protestant flock. He had a little experience with other expressions
of faith thanks to his participation in Boy Scouts, where Shad was
exposed to ecumenical meetings and occasionally a few services at
“steeple houses” where other members of his troop worshipped. He
once attended a Catholic Mass when Dulsie’s Grandma Wekenheiser
passed away a few months before their wedding. Although his
acceptance of his family’s faith – of faith in general – hadn’t
come easily, he finally embraced the quiet gathering of the
unprogrammed Friends.

Even though it was only country roads between
their home and the meeting house, Dulsie drove because that was
their habit. She wore a light maroon dress and Shad was attired in
tan chinos and the usual button-down shirt, this time teal in
color. When Dulsie parked the Buick in the gravel parking lot there
were eight other vehicles present, two of which belonged to her
parents and Shad’s.

As they exited the car and strolled toward
the building, Shad found his attention drawn to the small cemetery
maintained in a clearing behind the church. With its low tombstones
it was easily overlooked, but the wood fence surrounding the
graveyard had been repainted in the last few days so it was a more
gleaming white than usual. The cemetery was a topic of current
debate among the members of the congregation.

Dulsie smiled as she shook her head. “They
just had to go and get uppity.”

“The fence?” Shad turned his attention toward
her. “Roscoe and his people used their own time and money to paint
it. No reason for the rest of us to stand in the way.”

Although their congregation had always been
small, enough members had passed away in the last one hundred fifty
years plus that people realized the cemetery at its current size
could accommodate only a few more graves. One group wanted to begin
felling trees to enlarge the graveyard, which would also mean
dismantling and rebuilding part of the fence. The fence as a whole
already needed a paint job, however, but it was a task the first
group decided should wait until after clearing more land for the
cemetery.

The second group didn’t want a larger
cemetery. They believed it should be retired and when members
passed away in the future they could be interred in any of the
public graveyards in the area. So they believed the fence should be
painted immediately.

Of course nobody received any divine
revelation about the best way to handle this matter, and true to
tradition the Osage Friends didn’t simply take a vote.

“Do you think they’re gonna hold their
tongues when we start dismantling the fence this fall?” Dulsie’s
brow furrowed slightly.

“They did what they want and we’ll do what we
want,” Shad reminded her.

“Have they forgotten that people are just
dying to get in there? Promise me you’ll see to it I get buried
with my ancestors.”

“You forgot I’m the one who’s going
first.”

“Let’s agree to go at the same time, and that
way they can just stick us in the same box,” Dulsie said as they
reached the two concrete steps that led to the door.

Shad realized her statement reminded him of
one of the many attorney jokes he’d memorized, so as he opened the
door for her Shad responded, “But then when the tombstone reads
Here
lies
a
lawyer
and
an
honest
person
, there really will be two people in the
grave.”

Dulsie laughed as she stepped through the
doorway.

Her laughter announced their entrance. There
were roughly four clustered groups of people scattered around the
large but plain room. The walls were also painted white, and except
for the windows, a door on the back wall, and in one corner a
bulletin board pinned with a few postings, remained unadorned. The
hardwood floor was the naturally buff color of well-worn oak, and
the forty seats were a mix of antique wooden folding chairs and
modern steel folding chairs arranged in a circle around the
room.

Several people glanced toward their direction
and smiled, some nodding their heads in greeting. Shad’s and
Dulsie’s parents were in a smaller group at the other end of the
room, and their mothers waved but their fathers seemed too engaged
in conversation with a third person to have noticed the couple’s
arrival.

Dulsie seemed to chatter in endless greetings
to people they passed as they walked toward their parents. Shad
mostly nodded. When they reached the moms, who were standing beside
each other, Shad habitually stepped out of Jill’s line of sight to
stand on the other side of Mam. Jill as always ignored him while
she started talking to Dulsie.

Mam smiled at Shad, exchanged a “Good
morning” with Dulsie, and redirected her attention to him. Shad
glanced over at Pap and Karl, who were still occupied with their
conversation. Karl, as usual, was doing most of the talking, but
all three men were smiling and laughing.

At five-foot-four Karl Wekenheiser was three
inches shorter than his wife Jill. Although he was a bit stocky in
build compared to Dulsie’s petite frame, they had the same large,
dark blue eyes and sandy brown hair. Dulsie’s hair was thick and
wavy like her mother’s, while Karl’s hair was straighter and short
cropped. Even in his sixties he still had no gray in it, and most
people would have guessed that Karl was in his forties. He claimed
that the older he got, the younger he looked. Karl was wearing his
“Sunday best” – clean blue jeans and a pressed, short-sleeved,
button down shirt that was white with thin blue stripes.

“Ken’s got a clear path,” Shad murmured to
Mam about the third fellow in the group, a middle-aged cattleman.
“Why doesn’t he make a break for it?”

Mam chuckled. “He’s probably too confused by
now to know which direction to run.”

Mam was an attractive woman. Her once light
brown hair was now well streaked with gray and today was pinned in
a braided bun. She and her sister Jill had the same green eyes,
fairly tall height and slender build. True to her family’s
tradition Mam wore a simple skirt and blouse to First Day meeting,
and every day wore no jewelry other than her wedding band.

Dulsie looked past her mom toward the men.
“What are those guys carrying on about, anyway?”

There was slyness to Jill’s smile that
reminded Shad of Dulsie. “Things that go bump in the night.”

Jill appeared to be taller than she really
was, and not just when she stood next to Karl. She carried herself
with a dignity that prevailed through any emotion. Her brown hair
was also streaked with gray and combed into a flattering upsweep.
Jill was often immaculately groomed and well dressed, but she also
wasn’t afraid to get dirt under her fingernails. The lavender dress
she wore was simple but also complimentary. Jill also actually wore
a little makeup, just enough to accentuate her already natural
beauty.

Pap happened to glance toward their direction
and seemed a little startled to see Shad and Dulsie. He stepped
away from Karl and Ken and gave Shad a pat on the back.

“Mornin’.” He grinned at Dulsie before
looking at Shad. “You two sleep in today?”

“Dulsie was putting finishing touches on a
squash casserole.” Shad leaned toward Pap and lowered his voice
slightly. “Are you tired of squash yet?”