by Al Lacy
Molly Kate’s hands trembled as she lowered her doll to the floor. Then to please her father, she reached for her glass with both hands, as she had been taught to do. But she was shaking so bad, the glass slipped from her fingers and overturned.
Dottie jumped up and rushed to the cupboard for a cloth. James’s eyes were fixed on his father, whose face went suddenly red. Jerrod shoved his chair back and stood, glowering at the terrified child.
“Molly Kate, why can’t you be more careful?” Even as he spoke, he backhanded her across the face, knocking her off the chair.
James left his chair and backed up until he ran into the wall. Dottie dashed to her daughter and picked her up. Molly Kate was dazed and glassy-eyed. Dottie held the child close and glared at Jerrod, who was moving toward her.
“Jerrod!” she screamed. “Stop!”
“Put her down, Dottie!” he roared. “She spilled her milk! She needs to be punished!”
“Jerrod, no!” Dottie cried, backing away. “She dropped the glass because she was frightened of you!”
Jerrod grabbed his chair and threw it across the room. He started for her.
James ran in front of him, wailing, “No, Daddy! Don’t hurt Mommy!”
Jerrod fixed the boy with wild eyes and knocked him out of the way. James hit the closed pantry door and fell to the floor.
Jerrod bore down on Dottie and raised a hand to strike her.
“Daddy-y!” Molly Kate screamed.
The high-pitched little voice stopped Jerrod short. He blinked and looked at the hand poised to strike. Then he turned and bent over the table and wept.
Dottie put Molly Kate down and helped James to his feet. “Go up to your room, children,” she said above the sound of Jerrod’s weeping.
“But, Mommy,” argued Molly Kate, “Daddy might hurt you!”
“No, honey. He’s the real daddy again. He won’t hurt me. Go on now, both of you.”
When the children were out of the room, Dottie went to Jerrod, put an arm around him, and said, “Here, honey. Sit down.”
Jerrod slumped sideways onto James’s chair and wrapped his arms around his wife. Dottie stood there, holding his head in her arms. He sobbed over and over that he was sorry, begging Dottie to forgive him. When his sobs had subsided, she stroked his hair and said, “I love you, Jerrod.”
“I don’t deserve you, Dottie,” he said, his voice breaking. “I don’t deserve those wonderful children. Oh, why doesn’t God just kill me!”
“Sh-h-h,” she said, laying her head down against his. “You can’t help it, darling. That old war did this to you. Dr. Carroll will help you. I just know he will.”
The next morning, James and Molly Kate were once again with the Reeveses as Jerrod and Dottie pulled up in front of Dr. Matthew Carroll’s office in San Francisco.
Jerrod slid from the wagon seat and hurried around to the other side to help Dottie down. Holding hands, they stepped onto the boardwalk and approached the door of Dr. Carroll’s office.
Suddenly Jerrod froze.
Dottie looked up at him with concern in her eyes. “What’s the matter?”
“I can’t go in there!”
“Jerrod, you must! You’ve got to have Dr. Carroll’s help.”
“No, Dottie! He’ll put me in the asylum. I know it! That jail was bad enough, but there’s no way I could stand bein’ caged in the asylum!”
Desperate and frightened, Dottie gripped both his arms as hard as she could. “Jerrod, listen to me! He’s not going to put you in the asylum! Remember what you did last night? Do you remember what you did to your children?”
When he didn’t answer, she shook him. “Jerrod, are you listening to me?”
He licked his lips and met her gaze. “Yes. Yes, I … I’m listenin’.”
“Jerrod, if you won’t let Dr. Carroll help you, I have no choice. I’ll have to take James and Molly Kate and leave you. Those children have suffered enough! I cannot … I will not let them go through another episode like last night’s! Do you hear me? I must protect my children! If you don’t go in there right now, I’m taking them and leaving!”
Jerrod grabbed Dottie by the hair, yanked her head back, and yelled, “You try to take the kids and leave, I’ll kill you, Dottie! Do you hear me? I’ll kill you!”
Passersby stood and stared. Someone spotted a police officer crossing the intersection on horseback at the end of the block and called to him.
Suddenly the earth trembled. The boardwalk began to undulate, and Jerrod and Dottie grabbed hold of each other to keep from falling. By the time the police officer skidded his horse to a halt, the quake was over. As he dismounted, people pointed at the couple and told him the man had just manhandled the woman and threatened to kill her.
The policeman moved up quickly, pulling his night stick from his belt. He scowled at Jerrod and snapped, “Let go of her, mister!”
“Officer, this man is my husband,” Dottie said. “He’s having some emotional problems, and I’m taking him in here to see Dr. Carroll. He got a little upset, but he’s calmed down now. May we go on in?”
The policeman eyed Jerrod sternly and said, “You going in to see the doctor?”
“Yes, officer,” Jerrod said, wiping sweat from his face.
“Okay, I’ll just go in with you.”
As the Harpers moved inside the building, Jerrod looked down at Dottie and said with a quaver in his voice, “I’m sorry, Dottie. I didn’t mean it when I said I’d kill you and the kids.”
Dottie squeezed his hand and said, “I know you didn’t.”
Flora Downing greeted Dottie and told her the doctor was just finishing with a patient. He would be able to see them in a few moments. While they waited, Dottie explained the presence of the officer to the receptionist, telling her what had happened on the street. They talked for awhile about the brief quake, and soon the patient came out of Dr. Carroll’s office. Flora went in and told Dr. Carroll the Harpers were there and why the police officer was with them.
Dr. Carroll came out with Flora and smiled at Dottie, then extended his hand to Jerrod. The big man shook hands with the doctor, but his nervousness was showing. Dr. Carroll said Flora had told him of the incident on the street, and he thanked the policeman for his presence.
“Mrs. Harper,” Dr. Carroll said, “before I sit down with Jerrod, I’d like to talk to you alone for a few minutes.”
Fearful Jerrod would bristle at that, Dottie looked at him and said, “It’s all for your good, darling.”
“Yes, I can assure you of that,” Dr. Carroll said.
“I understand,” Jerrod said. “I’ll wait right here.”
“And so will I,” the officer said.
“After the way I acted out there on the street, I can’t blame you,” Jerrod said. “Don’t worry, Dottie. I won’t give him any trouble.”
18
DR. MATTHEW CARROLL leaned on his elbows and looked at Dottie Harper as she sat in front of his desk and worked some more to get her hair back into place. Again his heart went out to her. She was such a sweet and lovely woman. She didn’t deserve the kind of treatment she had been subject to, being married to Jerrod Harper.
“All right,” he said. “I want you to tell me everything that has happened since we talked last. I need to know in order to better help your husband.”
Dottie spilled it all out, almost breaking down a couple of times.
When she was done, Dr. Carroll sighed, eased back in his chair, and said, “Mrs. Harper, Jerrod has to be locked up.”
“But, Doctor, you said—”
“That was before he threatened to kill you. He’s dangerous. Very dangerous. It wouldn’t take much for him to kill you with his bare hands. He’s got to be locked up.”
Tears welled up in Dottie’s eyes. Her lower lip quivered as she said, “Can’t you at least try using the sedatives, do the counseling here in your office so Jerrod can live at home? It would be so much better for his state of mind. He—”
“No,” Carroll said flatly. “He’s too dangerous.”
“But if the sedatives would do as you thought, I’m sure Jerrod won’t be dangerous … and the counseling.”
“Mrs. Harper, I deeply appreciate the magnificent love you have for your husband and your unceasing faithfulness to him. But if Jerrod isn’t placed in the asylum, your faithful heart is going to get you killed.” Dottie stared at him, wiping tears. “Until it’s done, you and the children will not be safe. It’s not only best for the three of you, but it’s best for Jerrod. You must see that.”
Dottie bit down on her lower lip, blinking against the tears in her eyes. She stared at the floor for a long moment, then looked up at the psychiatrist. “I’m terrified, Doctor. I’m afraid of how Jerrod will react when he’s told he must go to the asylum.”
“Well, Officer Felton is out there. The best time to tell him is right now. We’ll have the officer escort us while we walk Jerrod to the asylum.”
Dottie drew a shuddering breath and said, “All right, Doctor. I will go along with you on this … but you’d better be ready to see Jerrod go into one of his spells.”
“I’ll tell Officer Felton to stay near, okay?” Carroll said, rising from his chair.
“I’m not sure he’ll be enough.”
“Well, I’m here, too. Certainly between the two of us we can handle him.”
The doctor opened the door and stepped into the outer office. There were no other patients present. Flora was at her desk, and the two men sat opposite each other in the waiting area.
Jerrod rose to his feet. “You ready for me now, Doctor?”
“Yes, please come in.”
The doctor let Jerrod move past him and told him to sit next to Dottie. Pulling the door shut, he whispered to Felton, “Stay close, will you? I may need you.” The officer nodded.
Carroll left the door open about an inch and returned to his desk and sat down. Before he could say anything, Dottie laid a hand on Jerrod’s arm and said, “Honey, I’ve told Dr. Carroll everything that’s happened since he and I last talked … and we’ve come to a conclusion as to what’s best for you and for the children and me.” She paused. “That is what you want, isn’t it? What’s best for all of us?”
Jerrod gave her a wary look. “And just what is this conclusion?”
“Before we tell you, Jerrod,” the doctor said, “please understand that this decision is really mine, based on many years of experience in my field. Mrs. Harper would like it another way, and so would I if it were possible. But there is only one way you can really be helped. You must consider your family. Certainly you realize that your problem has placed your wife and children in a very perilous position.”
Storm signs showed in Jerrod’s hazel eyes. “I knew it,” he rasped. “I knew it.”
Dottie took hold of his hand. “Please, Jerrod, don’t—”
“It’s the asylum, isn’t it?” he gusted, standing up.
When neither Dottie nor the doctor denied it, he yelled, “No! Nobody’s puttin’ me in a cage!”
Dr. Carroll rounded the desk and said in a calm, level voice, “Jerrod, there is no alternative. If you ended up killing your wife or one of your children, it would be my fault. I must insist—”
“No-o!” Jerrod roared, and struck out at the doctor.
Carroll was able to dodge the punch, but stumbled against a bookcase and lost his balance. Jerrod whirled and yelled at Dottie. “You’re plannin’ to take James and Molly Kate away from me if I don’t go in the nut house, aren’t you?”
Dottie was paralyzed with horror. She tried to speak, but the words locked in her throat.
Just then, Officer George Felton bolted through the door, nightstick in hand. “Back off!” he warned.
Jerrod ignored him and railed, “I’ll kill you, Dottie! That’s what I’ll do! You and this doctor plotted against me! I’ll kill you!”
Dottie put out a hand, as if to touch him. She still couldn’t find her voice.
Jerrod’s fist lashed out and caught her on the jaw. She landed hard against the desk and lay motionless. Felton’s night stick caught Jerrod with a glancing blow, enough to stun him. The policeman pushed him to the floor and was pulling his handcuffs from a hip pocket when Jerrod rolled over and struck out with his fist. It caught Felton on the mouth and knocked him over.
Dr. Carroll shouted for Flora to run to the street and call for more officers. As she was heard running from the outer office, Jerrod rose to his feet and struck Carroll on the jaw. The doctor went down in a heap.
Officer Felton’s mouth was bleeding as he picked up his billy club and went after Jerrod again. Jerrod dodged it and caught the policeman with a blow high on the head, knocking Felton off his feet.
Jerrod Harper was wailing like a wild beast as he plunged into the outer office and through the door into the hall. Felton scrambled to his feet and went after him. Jerrod had just reached the street when the officer tackled him from behind.
The two men wrestled and rolled off the boardwalk and into the dust of the street. A policeman’s whistle blew, and two officers came running toward the scene of the fight. Three more appeared on horseback. All five drew their revolvers as they converged on Jerrod Harper, who was now standing with an unconscious George Felton at his feet. One of them pointed his gun at Harper and bawled, “Hold it right there, big fella!”
Jerrod Harper was back at Wilson’s Creek facing enemy soldiers and enemy guns. The blue uniforms faded to gray. These were Rebels, coming to kill him. “Shoot ’em down, men!” he shouted, fixing them with eyes of hatred. “Let those dirty Rebels have it!”
Jerrod heard no gunfire from behind him. He whirled about and looked for his men, expecting to see their familiar faces behind guns that blazed at the enemy. There was no one.
The five officers swarmed him, trying to take him alive. Jerrod yanked Felton’s revolver from its holster, snapped back the hammer, and fired blindly into the oncoming uniforms. The bullet struck one of the officers in the chest, but the others were on him, swinging the barrels of their revolvers as clubs.
Jerrod Harper went down unconscious.
Dr. Carroll staggered from the office door, blinking to clear his vision. He saw Jerrod down, along with two officers, and said to the others, “This man is a mental patient. I heard a shot. Was someone hit?”
An officer who knelt over the one who had taken the bullet looked up and said, “Your patient put Officer Felton down and used his gun to shoot Sergeant Dover. He’s dead.”
Dr. Carroll leaned back against the building and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he asked the policemen to handcuff Jerrod and take him to the asylum. “Tell my people at the asylum that I’ll be there shortly. They are to put him in chains in a padded cell.”
“He’s a killer, now, Doctor,” argued one of the officers. “We’re taking him to jail.”
“This man is my patient, sir,” Dr. Carroll countered. “I will take full responsibility for him. Tell your captain I will come to the station and sign the necessary papers to declare my patient insane. You know the law. He cannot be tried if I declare him insane.”
“All right, Doctor, we’ll take him to the asylum as you requested … but we’ll need you to come to the station within an hour to sign the papers.”
“I’ll be there,” said Carroll, wiping blood from a split lip. “But first, I have to see about the man’s wife. She’s in my office and seriously hurt.”
George Felton was now on his feet. Dr. Carroll thanked him for what he had done and went inside as the officers carried their dead comrade and a groggy, handcuffed Jerrod Harper away.
Flora was bending over Dottie, whom she had laid on a couch. A wet cloth was across Dottie’s brow.
“She’s conscious now, Doctor,” Flora said, “but I don’t think her mind is clear enough yet to understand what’s happened.”
“I’ll take care of her. We’ve got more patients due in, don’t we?”
“Yes, sir,” Fl
ora said, standing up straight.
“You’ll have to reschedule them. First thing, get an ambulance over here. I want Mrs. Harper examined at the hospital. Once I’ve taken care of that, I have to go to the police station and sign papers declaring Jerrod Harper insane. The officer he shot is dead.”
Flora gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. Then she hurried out of the office and headed for the street to find someone who would run to the hospital and summon an ambulance.
The doctor drew up a chair, sat down, and looked at Dottie as she rolled her head and tried to focus on his face. He wished he didn’t have to give her the bad news.
“Mrs. Harper,” he said, “do you know me?”
Dottie licked her lips and nodded slowly. Her voice was weak. “Yes. Dr. Carroll.”
“Good,” he smiled, taking hold of her hand. “Listen carefully. I—”
“Doctor,” she interrupted. “My legs. I can’t move them. I can’t even feel them!”
Carroll let go of her hand and quickly untied and removed her shoes. He squeezed her feet and asked, “Can you feel this?”
She waited. “Feel what?”
He pinched the sole of her right foot and said, “Can’t you feel me pinching your foot?”
“No,” she said, a look of fear on her face. Then there was breathless panic as she gasped, “Doctor, I’m paralyzed! I can’t feel a thing below my waist!”
Dr. Carroll’s own heart thudded his ribs as he forced calm into his voice, took hold of her hands, and said, “Now, Dot—Mrs. Harper. When Jerrod hit you, the force of his punch knocked you into the desk awfully hard. But this doesn’t mean your paralysis is permanent. Sometimes it takes a while for your body to recover from an impact like that.”
Dottie squeezed down on both his hands. “Are you sure, Doctor?”
“Yes. I’ve already sent for an ambulance to take you over to the hospital. I didn’t know about the paralysis, of course, but I just wanted to have you checked over. Since you know Dr. Glenn Olson, I’ll ask that he see you. Would you like that?”