A Quality of Light (24 page)

P
ower in the hands of the humble is a subtle thing. It’s no less effective a force as power controlled by the vainglorious and strident but it remains understated, discreet, building slowly, inexorably, gathering its force, its thrust, its integrity, until it lifts off suddenly, beautifully, like a bird across water. I learned that when I walked back into school next week. No one spoke much on the bus, so I had time to consider how I wanted to handle the entrance. That was my first inkling of newfound power — that I could choose my reaction. I walked to my locker quickly, eyes up and straight ahead. Both Allen Begg and Chris Hollingshead were recuperating from Johnny’s beating and had not returned to school yet, but the rest of the crowd from the field that night was grouped along the window ledges as usual. Conversation stopped abruptly when I moved along that hallway. Chris’s brother, both his eyes blackened,
stepped in front of Mary Ellen, who simply turned and looked out the window while I passed.

All through the first day, I remained reticent. At lunch time, as I sat with my Mildmay friends in the cafeteria, I noticed that I was not the uncomfortable one. The uneasiness settled into the camp of seniors who watched me guardedly from a distance. Mary Ellen did not acknowledge my presence in any way, and as painful as that was, I appreciated her distance. Up to that point I still had no clear idea of what I was going to do. But as the day progressed and the faces of those involved betrayed their discomfort, I began to realize the power that was in my hands. My truth remained unspoken. Their story of my drunken lust was the only one that had surfaced. Since I had neither spoken to the police, the school administration nor their parents, they were firmly ensnared in their lie. With Johnny’s preliminary hearing set for the next Monday, my silence was an unbearable weight on all of them. When I was summoned to the principal’s office, I knew the power that I held.

Mr. Holmes wanted my side of things. As he expressed the options open to the administration, like expulsion for Johnny, the others or myself, formal charges or transfer to Hanover High, I realized the scope of my power. It would be their word against mine, and the onus would be on me to prove my case. That was my hole card. I told Mr. Holmes I would wait to speak at Johnny’s preliminary and he reluctantly allowed me that right. When I returned to my locker to gather my books, Chris’s brother, whose name I had learned was Steve, and the other boy involved, Kevin Carmichael, were waiting.

“So, what did you say to Spike, Injun?” Steve challenged.

“Yeah, did you finger us?” Kevin asked.

I slowly twirled the combination on my lock, smiling.

“Come on, out with it,” Steve badgered. “Did you rat us out? You goin’ to the cops?”

I grabbed my homework and jacket and turned slowly towards them. Mary Ellen and the seniors appeared from around the corner, waiting in the background. When I looked at her she
lowered her eyes. Steve and Kevin stood waiting. Looking them both square in the eyes, I spoke, quietly and firmly.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, right,” Kevin said. “You expect us to believe that?”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s been four days and I haven’t said anything to anyone.” I slipped on my jacket.

“You ain’t charging us?” Steve said.

“Charging you with what?”

They looked at each other, confused by my answer.

“You know, assault?” Kevin said, drawing a strong elbow in the ribs from Steve.

I grinned. “Assault? Did you say assault? Should I charge you with assault? Why?
Did
you assault me?” I said it as non-threateningly as I could.

“Look, we just want to know what to expect, that’s all. We don’t want no big scene here. Just let us know what to expect,” Steve said.

“Well, you should expect the truth. I’ll see you at the preliminary,” I said, moving down the hallway.

“So you didn’t say anything?” Steve called after me.

“No,” I said over my shoulder, catching Mary Ellen’s gaze. She didn’t lower her eyes this time, but looked straight at me unwaveringly, questioningly. When I nodded at her she offered a half grin that disappeared as quickly as it came.

And that was that. The rest of the week passed uneventfully. I sensed my silence was the center of everyone’s attention, but there were neither reprisals nor threats. Allen and Chris returned to classes. Neither of them spoke to me, settling for sidelong glances instead. My parents left me alone to consider my direction. By the time the weekend was over and we were preparing for the drive to Walkerton for Johnny’s court appearance, I was ready. When we arrived at the courthouse I asked for permission to see Johnny. I was escorted to a small visiting room.

He was sitting at a table, arms folded across the top, and he grinned when I entered. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Sore, stiff, but I’m okay. You?”

“Ah, you know. I been whacked before.”

“What’s it like at Galt?” I asked.

“It’s okay.”

“Your parents go to see you?”

“Are you kidding? They probably won’t even be in court.”

“What are you going to do?”

“In court? Plead guilty, I guess. I did attack them.”

“For a reason.”

“Yeah. For a reason. Are you gonna tell what happened?”

“Yes.”

“Are you gonna charge them?” “No.”

“No! They kicked the shit out of you! I’m in jail? They treated you like dirt!” He was standing, waving his arms excitedly. “What are you gonna do, just take it?”

“What would you do?” I asked quietly.

“No question — I’d charge them. I’d send
them
to Galt. I’d get revenge.”

“I already got it.”

“Yeah? How?”

“By not saying anything.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. See, I haven’t said a thing about anything. And it’s driving them crazy! They know that I know the truth but I’m not saying anything. They’re wondering why. All the time they’re wondering why, they’re asking themselves what happened. What would they do if they were me? They’re facing the truth.”

“That doesn’t do you any good. Not unless they own up to it.”

“They have owned up to it — to themselves. See, if I had charged them, they’d deny everything, right?”

“Right.”

“They’d be angry, threatened and they’d deny it all. They’d find
some way to convince themselves that their story was the truth. But because I didn’t, there are big questions in their minds — questions that are making them look at the real truth. Maybe if they see the truth on their own, they can change. Maybe not all of them. Maybe just one, but that’s enough.”

“Yeah, but maybe not.”

“Maybe not.”

“You’re willing to risk letting them off the hook hoping they’ll start feeling guilty?”

“They’re already guilty.”

“I say charge them. Make them suffer. They made you suffer,” he said, pointing a finger at me.

“You know what my dad says?”

“No. What?”

“He says there’s an addendum to the saying ’Know the truth and the truth shall set you free.’ “

“What’s an addendum?”

“You know, an add-on. Know the truth and the truth shall set you free … but first, it’ll make you miserable.”

We laughed.

“So they’re miserable, right?” Johnny said, grinning at me and sitting down again.

“Yeah. That’s what my revenge is. And I’m not the one who’s going to come out with the truth today,” I said confidently.

“Yeah? Well, who is?”

“I don’t know. But someone is.”

“I hope so. Galt’s okay but I wouldn’t wanna live there.”

“You won’t. I promise.”

“Okay. But if it looks like it’s not going to happen, you better speak up and defend me.”

“If it comes to that, I will.”

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re crazy. Really crazy. I think you believing that the hand of God is going to move through that courtroom today is
crazy. I think you believing that any of those kids out there have any kind of conscience is crazy. I think not taking revenge is crazy. But crazy or not, I’m with you. Always.”

“Thanks, Johnny.”

“Josh?” he said again, quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Nothin’,” he said and looked at me for a long moment with those crystal-clear eyes before hugging me, then punching me lightly on the shoulder.

T
he hallway outside the courtroom was packed. Mr. Holmes and Mr. Hughes were talking with a group of adults I took to be the parents of those involved in the beating. Contrary to Johnny’s belief, Mr. and Mrs. Gebhardt were there, along with old Harold, talking in hushed tones with my parents. Pastor Chuck was just arriving with a handful of people from the church, and a large contingent of Mildmay friends and neighbors stood around the benches chatting and eyeballing everyone else. Mary Ellen and her parents entered behind Pastor Chuck and headed straight towards my family.

Mr. Reid looked at me with a steely-eyed squint and Mrs. Reid simply stared at me, shaking her head slowly. Mary Ellen looked away.

“Ezra. Martha. I’m sorry that we all have to be here,” Mr. Reid said. “I’m sorry we didn’t know your boy better before we allowed him to escort our daughter. It’s too bad you didn’t do a better job of raising him. I expect more from farm folk.”

My father regarded Mark Reid with as hard a look as I’ve ever seen him give. My mother moved a step closer to the both of us and laid one hand on my father’s elbow.

“I’m sorry too, Mark,” my father said. “I’m sorry you don’t know my son. That you don’t know us.”

“Ezra, I want you to know that I’m considering charges of
assault against Joshua. He ripped my girl’s dress, he demeaned her and who knows what else might have happened if Mary Ellen’s friends hadn’t stepped in and stopped him. Once this Gebhardt boy gets sent to trial today, I’ll speak with my attorneys.”

“That’s entirely your decision, Mark,” my dad replied. “But Joshua didn’t assault your girl. I think you know that. I think she knows that.”

“I don’t know anything except what I’ve been told. And, quite frankly, Ezra, that’s enough for me.” Mark Reid began to steer his family away.

“That’s too bad. But you need to hear the other side of the story,” my dad said.

Mark Reid turned to face my father again. “And what side of the story is that?”

“My son’s,” my father said firmly.

“Well, what about your son’s, Ezra? He hasn’t said anything yet. I’ll give you credit for that. The boy may be a lecher but at least he won’t compound it by being a liar, too.” Mr. Reid strode off brusquely with his wife and daughter in tow.

Pastor Chuck had approached as the exchange progressed and he stood with a hand on my shoulder and the other on my father’s. My dad introduced him to Mr. and Mrs. Gebhardt, who’d been silent throughout the confrontation. They smiled weakly at him and remained silent. Before he could speak to us we heard the bailiff announcing that court would be sitting in two minutes, so we all began our move towards the doors. I noticed the town kids entering from the front where they’d been having a cigarette, and they all glared at me. I stared back, openly, unchallenging. When I took my seat alongside my parents, Mary Ellen turned her head and looked at me. I returned the look, and she offered me the same half grin I’d seen in the hallway a few days earlier.

Just before the door to the judge’s chambers opened, a line of students filed in quietly, formally, and stood along the walls. Ralphie was there, along with Connie Shaus and a dozen or so other Grade Nines. Neil Metzger, the class president, stood calmly at the end of the center aisle. The judge entered and raised his
eyebrows in surprise at the packed courtroom. Johnny was brought in. He too was wide-eyed at the turnout.

Neil strode down the aisle and approached Johnny’s attorney. They discussed something briefly, agitatedly, and then Neil retired to stand at the front of the center aisle beside a nervous-looking Ralphie Wendt, who had also moved to the front. He looked at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat like a seal in rough seas. I’d never seen fear on Ralphie’s face before, and it startled me.