Asylum Heights

by Austin R. Moody

  Two days later the District Attorney visited Doctor Moriarity and confirmed that Glen could possibly, even probably, awaken, but his faculties would forever be impaired. He told the lawyer, “I don't really know what I mean by that statement, but he most likely will never be capable of understanding what he has done now or ever. I hope that will help you decide what you have to do.”

  The District Attorney reflected a few moments then said, “Yes, Doctor, you have been most helpful. Now I know exactly what I must do.” That afternoon in his office he called the District Court Judge and related all the facts of the case to him. The Judge pondered the case through the night and the next day, and reached the same conclusion with regards to the facts and findings of the case then said, “I will hold a hearing in the morning and put this whole matter to rest forever.”

  The District Attorney then called Papa Hailes and told him exactly what had transpired between him and the Judge and advised him, “Get the best lawyer you can find as quickly as possible because the Judge is going to close this case within the next day.” He then called Mrs. Silver and told her to meet him at his office that afternoon, if possible. She was there with another son within the hour, and the District Attorney related all of the facts to them; the cold hard facts regarding Uncle Glen’s condition and what the Doctor and the Judge had told him.

  He told them, “As the District Attorney I shall present the case as forcefully as I possibly can, yet the final decision in the matter will rest with the Judge.”

  Papa called Meridian, and he was in the Judge’s court the following morning.

  “It is the judgment of this court, based upon all of the facts that I have heard, that Glen Hailes, the acknowledged defendant and perpetrator of the murder of Johnnie Silver has developed an infectious disease and sustained sufficient damage to the cerebral cortex and other structures of his brain to render him incapable of prosecution for this heinous crime. Affidavits are on file from his physician that he will in all likelihood remain in a vegetative state, or at least so impaired if he should regain his sensorium that he will never be able to stand trial because of the said effects of the disease. Therefore, I must render my decision for the plaintiff, Glen Hailes, and exonerate him by reason of insanity.”

  The Judge’s gavel made a wide arc and the pounding echoed through the halls of the courthouse. It felt as though it was driving a stake in the hearts of Mrs. Silver, her son, and Marshall Winters.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  HOME

  Six months later they brought Uncle Glen home. He remembered, deep within his brain, the smell of the house; especially the covers of his own bed, a mixture of warmth, humidity, moisture and the sweat from his body. These mingled with the cooking smells from the kitchen and the urine from the slop jar at the foot of his bed that acted as a receptacle of excrement during the night. It was his room, and he was once more a little boy in his own place, his home, and it gave him a sense of well-being and comfort. He burrowed deep within them.

  In the following days he gained strength, became more aware of his surroundings and of his father and mother. After a month he sat up in bed and got up to the bathroom. After three months he took his first faltering steps with the help of the two of them, then just his father, and finally alone. His right foot was anesthetic, and he was unable to hold it up; the “foot drop” was still with him.

  After another three months he was able to do some of the rudimentary chores about the house, and two months thereafter he was able to return to the fields and the woods of their place. He went there initially for solace, an opportunity to reconstruct his thoughts and the quiet beauty of the place, the large oak, pine and sweet gum trees were so close to his very soul. He wanted to regain his strength, his balance and agility, and to consider his options for the rest of his life. He knew that he could only do that through sweat and hard work with his arms and legs.

  He began to walk then run faltering, falling to the ground initially, but after the first month he began to feel the vitality returning, imperceptibly at first and very gradually over the next six weeks. The anesthetic foot nagged him, but he put it from his mind and kept on working to overcome this impediment.

  He had a broad axe in the barn. He found and sharpened it then carried it to the woods. He selected a small sapling at first and then progressively took larger trees. He decided that he would do something creative and productive with the end products of his labor. He began to make cross-ties for the railroad company. His blows became more effective and accurate and the trunks of the trees that he felled began to take the form and shape of a three dimensional rectangle, the size seen on every rail track in the country. He saw his arms regaining their shape and felt their power, and the pectoral muscles of his chest, and the strap muscles of his back began to resume their form and strength.

  He remembered his rifle, a .30-30 Winchester that his father had given him on his fourteenth birthday. He had always treasured it, and now it would become yet another instrument in his resurrection back to his former dynamic self. He found it in his gun cabinet in the living room of the house exactly as he had left it so long ago. He removed and inspected it for rust, looking at the rifling in the barrel and trigger mechanism. He cleaned it carefully and lovingly, remembering that it had been a mainstay against hunger on many occasions. Once the gun was cleaned and he was confident that the barrel was free of any obstructions, he felt that it was now safe to fire. He cradled the rifle in the crook of his left arm and headed again to the woods. He entered a clearing in the forest and found a tree stump at one end. He placed a tin can on the sawed off end and then walked off thirty paces. He loaded the rifle, put the butt of the gun to his shoulder and raised the muzzle to take aim at the tin can. He immediately realized how heavy the weapon seemed and recognized that the strength in his right arm was considerably less than he thought.

  He had learned as a boy that in shooting one must aim the gun so that the rear sight was aligned with the vertical bar of metal, the front sight. The target was set atop the front sight and it created an image in his mind, called the “sight picture.” Any deviation from this picture would guarantee the bullet that departed the muzzle of the rifle would miss the target.

  He had much difficulty in achieving the sight picture and once he had the target in the right position he was unable to maintain it sufficiently in time for the desired destruction of the target. He realized that he could get this skill back by one and only one means, to practice his shooting daily and to exercise and work his right shoulder, arm, and hand. He knew that he would need lots of ammunition in order to accomplish this and that Papa was going to Quitman that afternoon.

  He left the can on the stump of the tree, untouched, and he returned forthwith to the house. He returned just barely in time as his father was already prepared to leave for Quitman. He asked Papa for five boxes of .30-30 rounds of ammunition, a box of targets as his mother only had a few empty cans to sacrifice, and a barrel cleaning rod.

  Papa was mystified and said, “Have we got a feud amongst some of our neighbors or are you going to join the army?”

  Once Glen explained the reason for the inordinate quantity of ammunition, Papa was satisfied and told Glen he would acquire the items that he had requested. Glen wasted no time in his return to the tin can and his practice. It took three magazines full of shells before the tin can was hit and two more before he could hit it twice in succession. He had left the broad axe in the barn and he went to get it and intensified his efforts in using it because he knew that it was a resource from which he could regain the strength and steadiness necessary to sharpen his aim. He spent countless hours making cross-ties throughout the forest and practicing in the clearing to hit the paper targets that his father had provided. The poor tree trunk took so many rifle bullets that it nearly disintegrated. Finally, after the disappointment of the multitude of attempts and the myriad of misses, he began to feel sufficiently strong in his right upper extremity to be able to hold the gun
steadily and to get a cluster of shots near the bull’s eye in the center of the targets. He began to hit the target with ever increasing accuracy. Each time he mastered the shot, he would move back five paces further away and he would again develop his sight picture and his sharpness in his placement of the shot pattern. He was pleased when he reached 100 yards, but he wasn’t satisfied. When he gained sufficient satisfaction at that considerable distance, he promptly moved back again in five yard increments until he reached 225 yards!

  By that point, the bull’s eye was but a tiny smudge upon the target sheet, but he was not satisfied until he could hit the tiny circle twenty times in succession. He knew then that his trusty rifle was again part of him, just as it had been before his stroke. He took the gun back to the house then cleaned and replaced it in the gun cabinet.

  Two days after the triumph of getting his arm and his skill in shooting back, Uncle Glen received a letter from Sal. He told Glen that he missed him, and needed him desperately back in Dothan as soon as he got well. Petrous Porter also said he needed Uncle Glen to keep those rowdies in line. He felt his spirits lift by the letter, but he felt something within the envelope. He opened it once more and found a newspaper clipping. There was a picture of a young couple in the announcements section of the Times Picayune in New Orleans. The heading on the article read, “Wedding of Mr. Robert H. Wentworth III and Miss Sybil Mervin is a major event in New Orleans society this year.”

  Uncle Glen saw the photograph of his beloved now betrothed to another and there was nothing he could do. He did not finish reading the clipping. He was also well aware that he could not accept his position again at Dothan. He knew that he wasn’t physically or mentally able to return to the daily pressures and demands of his job at the store at this time, and that by the time he would be able to again perform sufficiently, Sal would have lost it all, everything that he had worked, disciplined and denied himself to accomplish. Uncle Glen couldn’t let that happen to the one man whom he counted as his best friend.

  He dressed and drove into Quitman and went directly to the hotel and the telephone booth. He dialed Sal and told him that he couldn’t accept his offer right now, and that he wanted Sal to get someone else to take over management of the filling station, the store, and all of the accoutrements for now, until Uncle Glen could get back on his feet.

  Sal said. “Glen you know I can’t find anyone to take your place. Could you come back just long enough to help me in the recruitment of a candidate and stay with him long enough to assure that the place will not go to hell in a hand basket until he can learn the ropes?”

  Glen thought a moment then said, “I can give you a week, but I have to have Petrous to do the manual work, and also I may need some protection and enforcement so have one other person that you know and trust there to help out if needed. No need to have me over there until everything is in place. Give me two days’ notice of when you are ready for me to come,”

  Sal said, “Call me in two days, and I can advise you how we are progressing to get everything you need. Do you have anyone in mind to take the job?”

  Uncle Glen reflected again and thought of Freddie Bartholomew, a young man who had been with them at the filling station. He had been a dispatcher of the trucks since they first arrived with their loads of liquor on their way to New Orleans and returning. He knew nothing about the day-to-day operation of the business, but he could keep the trucks moving.

  Glen suddenly realized that he had to have a consortium of people, each performing a particular function. He had to have someone that could orchestrate the central core of the business, an individual who could control them all in order for it to have any chance of success. He also knew now who that person had to be and it was someone with whom he was very familiar, that person was Glen Hailes himself, at least in the beginning. He had to have a means of communication since he wasn’t going to be at the service station all of the time. He decided to install a telephone line at home and to use Petrous Porter to act as his eyes and ears while he was away.

  Glen hung up and returned home. He told his father of his intent to return to Dothan for one to three weeks to keep the business together until he could find a replacement for himself. He felt that he owed that to the man who had literally saved their common necks. He also related the reason for his requirement to have a telephone at home. Papa said he understood and silently thought he was very proud of Glen for his sacrifice at this time.

  Two days later Glen returned to Quitman to the telephone company and made his deposit and first month’s payment for the installation of the telephone in Hale; it was the first phone in the community. He decided not to tell his neighbors of their acquisition because their house would instantly become the communications center for all the people in Hale, and they would have no peace. He called while he was there and learned that everything was ready for his arrival at the service station.

  He drove to Dothan the following morning. He lost no time in assembling his team to begin operations. He first sought out Petrous Porter and asked him what he thought about Freddie Bartholomew’s leadership abilities.

  Petrous pondered this question and then said, “I’m glad you asked me about that fellow. He thinks and moves a lot like you. Why do you ask?”

  Then Glen asked a most crucial question, “You know I am pretty compromised right now, do you think he could take my place when I am away?”

  Petrous answered, “Glen, no one can take your place, but I believe he could learn what you are willing to teach him, and I will be here to help when you aren’t around.”

  “Thank you, Petrous,” Glen said simply.

  The following morning he selected the individual team leaders and assigned each person their tasks, and gave each of them a hundred dollars a month raise. He still didn’t have the security person and of course, the new director. He now had a likely prospect for the latter, however, in Freddie Bartholomew. His next move was to call a meeting of all the men to advise them of the plan and to tell them who the new management team members were and of each of their functions.

  “I will not be here for very long because my health won’t permit it. Each of the people that I have selected has been empowered to carry out my orders just as though they were coming from my own mouth. If any of you don’t like this arrangement then let me know, and we can see to it that you are replaced right away.” No one moved from their chair even though the room remained silent for at least three minutes.

  “With that,” Glen said, “I am very pleased that you all want to remain because we have a very excellent team.

  God only knows who we could have gotten to replace you, and as a token of our appreciation I am going to increase each of your pay by twenty-five dollars a month. The team leaders have already received a leader’s increase in salary. In addition, however, they are also team members, and their pay also will be increased by the twenty-five dollars as well.”

  This was greeted with a round of enthusiastic applause.

  As everyone was leaving the meeting Glen saw Freddie Bartholomew and called him to the podium. He told him to take a seat on the front row until everyone was gone and that he wanted to talk to him about something. When the last of the men had left, he again turned his attention to Freddie Bartholomew. He wanted to know more about the young man. “Are you married? Do you have any children? Where are you from?” He asked.

  Freddie answered, “Your first question is no, I have never been married, therefore your next question is obviously in the negative as well. I was born and raised on a farm nearby. I still live with my parents.”

  Glen asked next, “Do they know your line of work here?”

  He said, “They only know that I am a truck dispatcher.”

  Glen was glad that the townspeople were not aware of the true purpose of their venture. He continued, “As you know I can’t work at my full capacity any more, and I need someone to help me out when I am not available. You are already on our team as dispatcher, and I have had my ey
e on you for some time. I like what I see in you. Would you like the job?”

  Freddie had a question of his own, “What exactly will the job entail? Are you saying that you want someone to replace you temporarily?”

  Glen hastily rejoined, “I am not offering anything right now. First, you must prove to me that you have the capability, willingness, and determination to assume the responsibility. After you have demonstrated what you can do to my satisfaction, then I will show you to my boss, the owner of the company. Once he buys you, then we will see.”

  Freddie said simply, “I am overwhelmed by your confidence in me. I will do the best that I am able to do for you and the owner; you do not know how much this means to me.”

  Glen said simply, “Show me.” He then said, “Let’s quit and go get some lunch over at the restaurant, then this afternoon we can begin.”

  They ate a simple southern lunch. Afterwards, they retired to Glen’s office to start the arduous task of upgrading Freddie to assume the directorship of the business.

  Glen began by saying, “First, there are certain areas to discuss regarding the management of our endeavor: running the local business, including the filling station, restaurant, shop, supplies, materials and employees; acquisition of product; keeping present providers happy; transportation of product; employee relations; maintenance of fixed assets, purchasing new equipment; the books.”

  Glen then took to each of these in painful detail, stopping periodically to test Freddie on his grasp of each segment of the material. Upon completion of the last item on the list, number six, the books, he finally amended, “I have selected another employee to assist you in supervising each of the steps that we just outlined, but you must know more about it than any of them. We have a lot of work to do.”

  He looked out the window and saw that it was already dark outside. Surprised, he looked at his watch and saw that it was 10:25. He could not believe how the time had flown away. They called it a night, went directly to bed, and then got up at 5:00 the following morning to resume their efforts. This continued at this frenetic pace for two weeks. They were tired but had finished all of the points on the list.