The Whole Truth

by James Scott Bell

  “I think everybody pretty much knows what’s good and evil,”

  Steve said.

  “I disagree, Son.” Eldon lit his pipe. “Unless people have a common frame of reference, they can’t distinguish good from evil. You have to start with a source, and that source is God. God is the one who created good and evil to begin with.”

  “Okay,” Steve said.

  “Now wouldn’t you agree if God says something is evil, then it is?”

  “I’ll go along with that.”

  “And if he says something is good, then it is good?”

  “Pure logic.”

  “All right then.” Eldon sucked his pipe a couple of times, issuing smoke. “All I want to know is if you will make an attempt to understand my views.”

  “Mr. LaSalle, I’m not a religious guy. I don’t mind if anyone else is. I’m good with that.”

  “I don’t think you are.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I sense your disapproval.”

  The old face of Eldon LaSalle took on the impression of a Halloween mask. Steve looked quickly at Johnny. Johnny was looking down.

  “It’s not up to me to approve or disapprove,” Steve said. “Just to make sure you stay within the law.”

  “I want more than that, Steve. I want you to see. Will you at least keep an open mind?”

  “Open mind? I can do that.”

  “Good. And a good job on rendering an opinion.” Eldon LaSalle smiled. “You’re one of us now. Don’t ever forget that. I want you to come to our Bible study tonight. I think you’ll find it most edifying.”

  “I don’t know, I thought — ”

  “I really would appreciate it if you’d come.”

  The Eldon LaSalle eyes bore into him.

  “Well, you know,” Steve said. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “What the heck was that all about?” Steve asked Johnny out on the driveway.

  “What do you mean?” Johnny said.

  “I don’t like being told what to do.”

  “Who’s telling you?”

  “Who do you think? He orders me to a Bible study.”

  Johnny patted Steve’s arm. “I think it’s a good idea.”

  “I think I’m being set up,” Steve said. “I think you and Eldon want me to start thinking like you.”

  “Is that such a bad thing? To try to convince you that what we’re doing is something that’s right?”

  “I find it hard to believe that your God would be a racist.”

  “You don’t think everybody’s racist to some degree?”

  “No.”

  “You were never in the joint. You find out real quick it’s all about race. It’s how God wired us — ”

  “Come on.”

  “Can you honestly say that mixing the races has given us any good thing?”

  “I don’t want to get into that,” Steve said. He looked at the sky the way a prisoner might out in the yard. “Johnny, I need to know. How much of this do you actually buy into?”

  “Why do you need to know that?”

  “Because that’s why I’m here! That’s the only reason. It’s you. It’s you I want to be with and know and help and be around for. I don’t care about all this. It’s you I care about.”

  “Steve — ”

  “You’re my brother. We’re the same blood, but are we the same at all? Or is it too late? Has it been too long, too many turns by each of us?”

  “No, don’t say that.” Johnny looked Steve straight in the eye. “Trust me, will you? Stick with me. There’s more going on.”

  “More?”

  “This is just between you and me, okay?”

  “What is?”

  “What I’m about to say.”

  “All right.”

  “There is more going on here than you know. But the thing you want, you and me together, it will happen. If you can just trust me and wait, it will happen.”

  “What will happen?”

  “Just be patient. Get to know us, get to know the town. Settle in. One step at a time, huh?”

  Just like recovery. Well, what else did he have? He’d made the break, he was in with one foot if not two.

  “Okay, Robert. Johnny.”

  Johnny said, “That’s the ticket, my brother. Tonight. Here. Seven o’clock. Just come on in and see what we do. I guarantee you won’t be bored.”

  Of that Steve was certain. It was the one certain thing about this whole deal.

  FORTY-NINE

  The Bible study gathered in the largest room of the compound, bigger even than the dining hall. Steve was amazed that Beth-El seemed to grow larger each time he visited.

  Tonight he was with an assemblage of LaSalleites, maybe twenty in number. Not your average Sunday school class.

  A friendly bunch, though. They greeted Steve warmly, pumped his hand, gave him a brother-of-Johnny welcome.

  One of them was Rennie, the muscled guy Steve had seen at Johnny’s place. He was convinced the guy loved to put serious hurt on people for the sheer fun of it.

  Now, at least, Rennie had a smile. With one gold tooth in the front.

  He squeezed Steve’s hand harder than necessary. “How you doing?”

  “Better than most,” Steve said. “Not as good as some.” From this distance he could see more clearly the tats on Rennie’s arms and neck. Prominent on the left side, just under the ear, were the letters FTW.

  Which had a particular connotation, depending on one’s view of the world. Steve must have been staring because Rennie said, “For the Word.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That’s what it stands for now. The Word. The Word of God. That’s what it’s all about.”

  Steve remembered Neal’s muttered warning that last time, about Rennie ending up killing someone someday. WWJK? Who would Jesus kill?

  He did not want to be here.

  He wanted to be with Sienna. He wanted to be sitting across from her in a local bistro, just talking. He didn’t care what she said. Just hearing her voice would have been enough.

  The women who had served dinner also laid out refreshments for the Bible study. These included a large platter of deli meats, with bread and condiments on the side, and a washtub of ice for beer and soft drinks.

  No, not like any Sunday school he’d ever heard of. Wasn’t there supposed to be a flannel board with Bible characters?

  Beer?

  Johnny offered Steve a Coors. Steve went for a Pepsi instead. Then Johnny introduced him around. Steve shook hands with Axel LaFontaine, a friendly sort in a Hawaiian shirt who had done time at Soledad.

  Don Stead was a dog lover who had once been in prison for shooting cows. “Target practice,” he said.

  Mike Dietz was a fast-talking, guitar-playing ex-con from Fresno.

  All regular guys with one thing in common — loyalty to an old man who preached the gospel of racial segregation and white superiority.

  The sooner this thing was over, the better Steve was going to like it.

  A little after seven, the big door opened and Eldon LaSalle drove his thronelike wheelchair into the room. Steve wondered how fast that baby could go if he cranked it up.

  On his lap was a big black book with gilt edging. A Bible. Everyone took Eldon’s entrance as a cue to find a seat.

  Steve sat near the back, next to a guy named Bill Reagan. Did time for grand theft auto.

  Eldon LaSalle wheeled to the front of the assembly, smoking his ever-present pipe. The room was silent as he slowly opened the Bible and took a few studious pulls on his tobacco as he turned the pages.

  Then he looked up.

  “The Word of the Lord,” LaSalle said, then put his eyes back on the Bible and began to read. “ ‘And Noah began to be an husbandman, and he planted a vineyard: And he drank of the wine, and was drunken; and he was uncovered within his tent. And Ham, the father of Canaan, saw the nakedness of his father, and told his two brethren without. And Shem and Japheth took a garment, and l
aid it upon both their shoulders, and went backward, and covered the nakedness of their father; and their faces were backward, and they saw not their father’s nakedness. And Noah awoke from his wine, and knew what his younger son had done unto him. And he said, Cursed be Canaan; a servant of servants shall he be unto his brethren. And he said, Blessed be the LORD God of Shem; and Canaan shall be his servant. God shall enlarge Japheth, and he shall dwell in the tents of Shem; and Canaan shall be his servant.’ ”

  The words came out in the rich honey tones of a baseball announcer. Steve could see immediately how LaSalle might hold a crowd in rapt attention. He would have made one great trial lawyer too.

  Instead, he had chosen the life of a nut. But a powerful nut, not easy to crack.

  “Yea,” Eldon said, not reading now but looking at his congregation. “Ham did have his own mother, as the word of the Lord tells us in Leviticus twenty and eleven. And the product of that union was Canaan, the cursed one. His was a perverted, animal race. And lest they become enticing unto the line of Shem, God did remove their white skin and cause blackness to come upon them.”

  Steve looked around the room, wondering if anybody at all would at least ask a question. Like, How can anyone believe this?

  No one did.

  “Cursed too shall be those who mix their seed with the accursed ones, the mud people. A sentence of death shall be upon their heads.”

  Some in the group nodded their heads.

  “It is pleasing unto the Lord to have a pure race in covenant with him, and that race can only be the white race, without any of the blood of Ham running through. The boil that holds such blood must be lanced and cauterized with fire. For the hour is coming, and now is, when a great beast shall do battle with the church, a beast of black and brown skin, and yellow eye.”

  Steve murmured, “Oh, brother.”

  A little too loudly. He got a frown from Bill Reagan. The LaSalleites were vigilant.

  And, Steve shuddered to think, completely sold out to the man in the wheelchair.

  The sermon continued. Steve tuned it out. He was more interested in scanning the faces of the men who were listening.

  Especially Johnny’s. But the expression was blank and unreadable.

  Something moved in the back of the room. Steve turned and saw one of the women. He recognized her as the one who had briefly made eye contact with him in the dining hall. She was thin, with brown hair worn short and plain, and was holding what looked like a jar of pickles.

  She placed this carefully on the table that held refreshments. She looked nervous. Then she turned back the way she came.

  “Stop!” The voice of Eldon LaSalle thundered as if from the clouds.

  The woman froze in place, head down.

  In the dead silence that followed, the only sound was the ominous whirring of Eldon’s motorized chair heading straight for the woman.

  Steve watched, fascinated. The poor woman looked like a dog who knew its master approached with a rolled-up newspaper. The other men in the room watched silently, some with amused looks.

  Like they’d seen this before. They knew what was coming.

  The old man stopped in front of the woman and waited. She didn’t move, didn’t look up.

  Then Eldon slowly reached out and stroked her hair. And again.

  “You were wrong, weren’t you?” he said.

  The woman nodded.

  “It comes from not being careful, doesn’t it?”

  Another nod.

  “From a lack of total commitment.”

  Nod.

  Steve tried to figure out what was so wrong about bringing a jar of pickles into a meeting.

  “You have had this trouble before,” Eldon said.

  The woman’s head did not move.

  Until Eldon slapped the side of it.

  The smack gave Steve a jolt. He squirmed in his chair, then felt a hand on his arm. It was Bill Reagan. He shook his head at Steve, a clear warning not to interfere.

  “Now,” Eldon said to the woman, “this is not going to happen again, is it?”

  Slow shake of her head.

  “That’s right. Now, down on the floor and look at my shoes.” Steve looked around at the faces watching.

  The woman sank to her knees, staring down at the feet of the great Eldon LaSalle.

  He sat looking at her for a painfully extended moment.

  No one said anything.

  Then Steve heard a small sound, like the beep of a child’s bicycle horn. A sob. The woman had obviously been trying to hold it in. Her body jerked.

  “That’s enough,” Eldon said softly, reaching down to stroke her hair. “Enough now. No need for that. I am here.”

  Another cry burst out of her, louder this time, followed by another.

  “No no,” Eldon commanded. “I said none of that.”

  Too late. She was sobbing uncontrollably now.

  Eldon looked around the room, at last making eye contact with Steve and holding the gaze. He may even have smiled, but Steve could not be sure.

  The woman was sucking in air, trying to stop crying.

  “Turn that noise into something useful,” Eldon said. “Scream it out. Scream out the sin.”

  That suggestion brought a couple of muted guffaws from the mob. Steve noticed goose flesh on his arms even though the room was warm.

  “Be a good girl, and give us a scream,” Eldon said.

  But she wasn’t a good girl, apparently, and was not able to stop crying.

  Eldon LaSalle shook his head at the sight, a whatever shall I do? gesture.

  “Come on now, bark it out, all out, for me,” Eldon said. “And all will be well.”

  Laughter from the assemblage rippled through the room.

  “Bark like a dog, girl,” Eldon said.

  When she didn’t he slapped her again.

  Steve lurched out of his chair and said, “Hold it!”

  In the next moment, several things happened simultaneously. Eldon looked up as if he’d been shot in the rear end with a BB gun. Heads around the room turned to look at the crazy man.

  Bill Reagan’s hand gripped Steve’s arm like a trap.

  With a quick jerk, Steve yanked free and almost ran to the spot where the woman was on the floor.

  He’d better think fast and talk even faster. “As your legal counsel,” he said, “I’ve got to advise you to cease and desist at this time.”

  Before Eldon could say anything — not that he looked like he would, preferring instead the hard stare of the truly ticked off — Steve leaned over and put his hand under the woman’s right arm. He pulled. She came up halfway so she was on her knees.

  Her surprised face, streaked with tears, looked at him. Confusion and fear merged in her eyes. He tried to help her to her feet, but she pulled her arm away and shook her head.

  Steve heard Johnny say, “Steve, back off, you can’t — ” then stop when Eldon raised his hand. Silence filled the room. Even the girl had stopped crying, probably shocked out of it by Steve’s butting in.

  The goose bumps on Steve’s arms came back, pebble sized.

  Steve cleared his throat. “As your lawyer, in advising you on your status as a church and all the benefits that go with it, I have to tell you that this sort of practice would not be viewed with favor in a court of law.”

  Eldon’s face did not move, though the crags in his face deepened. Like there were little daggers hidden there waiting to be pulled out and inserted variously in Steve’s body.

  “So,” Steve continued, “it doesn’t make legal sense to set yourself up for charges of abuse. No sense at all. The costs and benefits” — and what am I doing trying to convince this crazy old man of costs and benefits? What am I doing here at all? — “weigh convincingly in keeping the practices of the church in line with community standards.”

  A long pause gave no sign that Eldon LaSalle cared about what Steve was saying. Steve raised his eyebrows to communicate that he was finished.

 
“Is that all?” Eldon said.

  “That’s pretty much it,” Steve said, hoping the woman would get up and get out.

  But she didn’t move. Eldon looked at her and said, “My dear, do you feel abused?”

  The woman’s eyes darted to Steve for one quick look. Then she shook her head.

  “Are you sure about that?” Eldon said. “Because my lawyer here needs to know. He needs to hear it from you.”

  The woman shook her head again.

  “So you don’t feel abused?” Eldon said.

  Another shake.

  “You see?” Eldon said to Steve. “Do you know now that your assumptions are based upon lack of knowledge?”

  Right. A woman scared out of her gourd, surrounded by neo-Nazi hominids, is going to offer a contradiction? Steve thought about reminding Eldon and everyone else that the fact of abuse does not rely on the opinion of the victim.

  “It looks bad,” Steve said. “Why don’t we have a meeting about it and — ”

  “There will be no meeting,” Eldon said. “This is not something to be decided by committee. This is a matter of the eternal Word of God.”

  “Sir, with all due respect, making a woman grovel and bark like a dog doesn’t sound godly to me.”

  “You are a pagan,” Eldon said. “You do not understand the things of God. That’s why you’re here.”

  “I thought I was here to be your lawyer.”

  “We are more interested in souls. Eternal souls, pure and undefiled, white as snow before God.”

  Steve said, “Sure. Sounds great. Now why don’t you let her off the hook this time? Isn’t there something about mercy in the Bible? Then you and I can sit down and you can straighten me out to your heart’s content.”

  Which, Steve suddenly realized, might include something like what this woman had just gone through.

  Eldon stared into Steve’s eyes, and this time Steve did not flinch. He looked right back into those dark orbs, wondering how many people had fallen under their curse.

  Finally, Eldon LaSalle spoke. “There is much you don’t understand yet, Steven. And I don’t wish to take up any more of our time with it.” To the girl on the floor he said, “Go.”

  With a couple of large blinks, the woman slowly got to her feet. She looked around at the crowd once, then turned and scampered from the room. The big wooden door slammed behind her.