By Day or By Night

by M. Glenn Aldridge

  ***

  Mayor Joe Toslon did indeed keep his commitment to Ron. He did think about it; about the petition, about all those signatures, about Ron's point of view, about Ron's rallying of the troops behind his cause. Although, Joe probably didn't think about it in a way that Ronald Mason was hoping. No, Joe thought of how to calm things down rather than move them forward. Right or wrong Mayor Tolson just couldn't stand the type of civil unrest that Ron had a tendency to create; just like he was doing with this damned petition thing. Joe thought there were many positive things that could come from a person with Ron's energy and intellect, but he'd greatly over stepped his bounds this time.

  Joe decided it was time to have a sit down with Big John, Chief Long, and let him know which direction things were heading. He thought this may help John; that is give him a kick in the pants to "get busy".

  Joe extended an invitation for dinner at his house. John accepted, but only in words, his tone of voice said "no, no, no".

  "Thanks for coming over John," Mayor Tolson placed his napkin in his lap and began buttering a role.

  "Sure Joe, thanks for the invite." John thought it strange that Betsy wasn't joining them. And come to think of it why didn't Joe invite Katherine and me? This must be a serious conversation we're 'bout to have.

  "Quite a spread huh?" Joe looked about the dinner table at what was a fine meal.

  "I'll say. My compliments to the cook. Where'd Betsy run off to anyways? She's not gonna join us?"

  "Oh she's going to go play bridge with some friends. Besides I think we should probably talk alone." John thought that was a pretty blunt statement from a politician. I mean what good conversation started with "we should probably talk alone"? Serious busy indeed.

  "Well I'm not a man to beat around the bush Joe. I think you know that. So if you've got somethin' on your mind then let's cut the crap and get down to bidness." John didn't sound angry, but he did sound like he was headed in that general direction. Joe got the point.

  "Ok then John. I'll get right to it."

  "Thank you," replied John with a mouth full of food and a look of indignation.

  "You're being ousted buddy." Joe said these words with no emotion. He neither smiled nor frowned. It appeared he couldn't care less.

  "Come again?"

  "Just what I said John ? ousted." Joe took a bite of his rare steak.

  "How's that?"

  Joe took a big drink from his glass of iced tea and placed his napkin on the table. "Let me show you."

  Joe reached over and pulled the petition, and signature pages, from the seat of an empty chair beside him at the table. He handed them to John. "Have a read." Joe thought to himself, if you can read you stupid son of a bitch. He nearly laughed.

  John took the pages from Joe without looking directly at them. Instead John was glaring directly at Joe; like he could come right across the table at him at any moment.

  After a thorough read, and thumb through of the many signature pages, John set them aside and began eating again. So did Joe. It was a few minutes before they resumed speaking again; a few awkward silent minutes.

  "So?" Joe was the first to break the silence.

  "So what," Big John said this not as a question, but rather as an outright statement.

  "Well John, surely you can see this is serious."

  "Ta you it is ? to you its all politics and votes. To me it's just bullshit." John continued to eat.

  "John we have to listen to the people. They are our ? well our bosses."

  "Yeah, but that doesn't mean they know law enforcement."

  "That's true, but look how many signatures are on those pages. It's just too many to ignore."

  "So are you going to "oust" me Joe? Is that what this fine meal is all about?" John sounded more bored than angry.

  "That's not my desire. My hope is that we can calm all this down and move forward. My hope is that you'll see all those signatures and realize the importance of something like this." Joe was soft in his tone; he knew he was walking a fine line with Big John Long at this point.

  "I only see one signature."

  "What?"

  "I see this first signature ? Ronald Mason. That some bitch is always stirrin' folks up. He's always out to cause trouble."

  "Well yes he is the ?," John interrupted.

  "He's the one that carried this damned petition around gettin' all those signatures isn't he?" John held up the petition in front of Joe's face.

  "Yes he is John ? and you've got to realize with loud mouths like Ron running around, keeping folks in an uproar, it makes things really hard."

  "I realize that Joe. I realize Ronald Mason is an alarmist and busy body. He's always sticking his nose where it don't belong."

  "That's probably true John, but the fact is he's done this," Joe nodded his head towards the large stack of signatures. "He's gotten folks in a tizzy and now what are we going to do about it?"

  "Well Joe I guess you could "oust" me. Or ? you can let me do my job."

  "I'm not going to oust you John ? not at this point anyway ? but we need to see some progress towards stopping all these murders. We need to see success in bringing this to an end!"

  "Ok then ? let me do my job." With this John tossed his napkin onto his empty plate and said: "Thank Betsy for the fine meal." Then Chief of Police Big John Long just got up and walked out. He didn't look angry, thought Joe; he just looked ? somehow disengaged, like he was compartmentalizing the whole thing. Joe thought that might be good; that it might be good for John to keep a cap on his emotions as he got about doing his work. He hoped he was right.

  Later that night Joe's selfishness crept up on him as he tried to go to sleep. He felt like he'd taken a big risk on John. The safest thing for him to do, as a politician, would have just been to can Big John Long. He might be resting his future political life on a man he didn't really think much of at all. He kicked himself, wondering why he did it. He told himself what's done is done, but one more slip up and John Long's gone. This "last straw" idea helped Joe relax and he drifted off to sleep feeling somewhat better ? for now.

  How Could You?

  I was at home with Momma and Johnny when I heard about it. Somethin' as big as this ? word travels fast, even by Barnsdall standards. Of course I didn't believe it at first. It just sounded too far out to be true. I guess you could say I was in a state of shock. Momma certainly was.

  When the phone rang something deep inside me knew something was wrong. Even before I heard Momma's tone of voice the pit of my stomach was churning. But ? when Momma looked at me, straight in the eyes, while she was still on the phone I knew something drastic was goin' to be changin' in our lives. Her expression is chiseled into my brain. I'll never forget it. It was a combination of fear, anger, disappointment and utter drain. It was as if the life just drained out of her right before me. It's something a child should never see in a parent; a loss of all hope.

  I never really found out what Momma was told on the phone exactly, but I did find out what apparently happened. It hurts to repeat it, I can feel my hands beginning to shake already, but I will. I must face it to get past it ? right?

  Ronald Mason was out for a walk; actually more than that. After his first run at Mayor Tolson didn't get the desired outcome, he thought it best to keep pushin' forward. Keep workin' the community folk to get as many people on his side as possible. More and more signatures would surely persuade the Mayor to do the right thing. To take the appropriate action!

  Stopping by house after house Ronald was apparently finding far more success than failure. In fact he was on such a role he couldn't even remember what rejection felt like. He was on cloud nine.

  As it started to get dark Ron had felt like he'd put in a good days work. Seeing that, while the sun was hiding behind the trees, there was still just enough light to be enjoyed before the street lamps came on; he kept on keepin' on. He was in such good spirits
. He thought of the brisk evening walk as good exercise while he was performing his calling; his cause; well his current cause anyways. Getting my Daddy fired! What a cause!

  At the same time Mr. Mason was feelin' so high on the hog about himself, Jerry Taylor was enjoying a nice stroll about town; for no particular reason really, except that Jerry liked to stay fit for his job as Police Officer Taylor. He took his job seriously and often thought of himself as a serious man. Well a serious man with a sense of humor anyway.

  Jerry made his way down Main Street and then turned toward Birch with a lively step. When he reached Birch Street he turned right and walked the few blocks down to 1st. Keeping with the theme of walking on the edge of town he crossed by East Maple (my street) and kept goin'. The air was nice and the calm of the disappearing sun was serene. It was one of those few days that happens each year when you can do brisk physical activity and not sweat a drop. Just a perfect evening, thought Jerry. It was to be perfect in climate but strange and disturbing things were looming on his horizon.

  Somewhere along the way Jerry decided to move off of his normal path and cut across 3rd Street. Just a new way, thought Jerry. As he rounded the corner at 3rd and Cedar he noticed that it had gotten dark; or very nearly dark. Half way down the block, or maybe a little further, he couldn't quite tell at the distance and the lack of light, he saw two men struggling. They were by the old abandoned Laundromat; a perfect place for trouble thought Jerry; where no one would care to look.

  Jerry congratulated himself on having the intelligence to carry his gun; to always carry his gun. After all, he's a police officer and he's always on duty, even when off duty. He didn't carry his normal department issue, it was a little too bulky for brisk walks; instead he carried a more compact semi-automatic pistol; but still one with plenty of pop being chambered in 9mm with hollow points for stopping power. Though as he quickened his step toward the two struggling men, he really doubted he'd need the gun. Something told him he could break up these jokers and be on his way. He would be wrong.

  "Alright ya'll stop it right now!" Jerry used his harshest authoritative tone. He wanted to make sure the point was grasped quickly and completely.

  From the initial distance, and in the near dark, Jerry thought it was a fight going on; somehow he thought it was just your normal fist fight. But as Jerry got closer he saw that one man was standing behind the other and had him lifted up off of his feet chocking him in what looked like some kind of modified full nelson; like one hand under the arm and behind the neck and the other arm wrapped around the throat choking with the crook of the arm. Jerry realized it must take great strength to do such a move. He couldn't see the man in back's face 'cause he was holding the other man up that high. It was a very strange sight.

  The man in front, being mercilessly throttled, was kicking his feet back and forth against the knees of his assailant. It wasn't an offensive, or even defensive, move though. It was more a twitching that someone might have just before the lights went out. Jerry recognized this and sought action quickly.

  Jerry drew his pistol and yelled out: "put him down ? now!" Almost immediately the dangling man was dropped to the ground. Jerry was surprised by this prompt action.

  "Jesus Christ!" Jerry's own voice sounded far away to him. He realized at once that he was looking right into the face of Barnsdall's notorious serial killer; into dead lifeless eyes, like a dolls eyes. It all made perfect sense now. He felt like he was in a dream, a terrible nightmare.

  The killer pulled out a large knife, from a sheath attached to his belt, and reached down to his victim. He moved quickly and with purpose.

  "John no!" yelled Jerry, but he was too slow, Big John Long (my Daddy!) slit the poor man's throat from ear to ear; with such force he nearly took Ronald Mason's head clean off. Jerry stood there stunned for only a second, but if felt like a long time.

  Jerry fired and his bullet found its intended home, in Daddy's right knee cap. Down he went. Jerry ran over to Ronald, while still keeping his gun on Daddy and staying well clear of the knife, to see if there was any hope; there was none.

  Jerry heard sirens almost immediately and figured someone must've heard the gun shot and looked out a window, or something, and saw the scene; called the police. Jerry took a big sigh of relief and exasperation. He was relieved this was all over (the killer had been caught), but horrified at what he had just seen. He felt terrible that he wasn't able to stop Ronald Mason from his awful murder. But most of all Jerry was just mortified that Chief of Police John Long was the ? the killer! He began talking to Daddy:

  "John ? oh my Lord ? John ? you, you're the killer? It's been you all along?" Jerry already knew the answer. Some folks might say he was jumping to a pretty big conclusion, but Jerry says: "if you'd a seen Big John's eyes at the moment just as he killed Ronald Mason you would have known. You had to see it to know!"

  There was no reply from Daddy, not even a grimace from what must've been a painful gun shot wound in the knee. He just sat there bleeding with really no expression on his face at all; like he was in another place. It was as if he was lost in his mind; somewhere deep in there.

  "John ? this is just a mess," Jerry noticed Daddy had released the knife, and so he kicked at it and knocked it out of reach of Daddy's hands.

  Just then Cecil pulled up and, only moments after, Eli pulled up too, both with their roofs fired up. Needless to say they were both as surprised as Jerry was. Initially they couldn't figure out why Jerry would have shot Daddy, but with a brief explanation from Jerry, of what happened, they realized ? well realized the truth. Big John Long, Chief of Police was the killer all along; stunning really.

  "John you crazy bastard," said Eli with a tone of disappointment winning out over indignation. Jerry went over and leaned against Eli's car.

  "What the hell John ? are you out of your mind son?" Cecil looked at Daddy for a long moment and realized the answer to that question.

  Daddy continued to just sit there. He never even made eye contact with any of them.

  It wasn't long before the ambulance showed up and they tended to Ronald. Unfortunately there wasn't much left to tend to; other than putting him in a body bag. There was blood all over the ground where he'd bled out. His wound was an awful sight, but one the Paramedics had started to get accustomed to in Barnsdall. They hoped this would be the last time they'd see something like this; now that the killer was caught.

  Next the Paramedics tended to Daddy. "He'll live," said one of them. They all worked with fear; fear that Daddy would snap again and grab hold of them. He didn't though. Amazingly he was as calm as a Hindu cow. His lack of eye contact and refusal to speak was scary to them though.

  It didn't take too long to document and clean up the crime scene. Daddy was taken away, first to the hospital and then to jail. It all happened so quickly. But ? the ramifications won't go away so swiftly ? no they will last a long, long time.

  Now What?

  Listening to folks around town, or should I say overhearing mainly 'cause most people didn't actually come right out and say it to me, it seemed like the common train of thought was that Daddy must've figured he was eliminating the bad element in town, the law breakers (sometimes even the small laws) to keep Barnsdall safe. A deranged way of thinkin' for sure, but then again you can't really expect rational thought from someone that would have done we he did.

  I 'spose what I'm sayin' is that ? well Daddy's crazy. Now I'm not saying he's "legally insane" as the papers write about what all the psychoanalysis may or may not show, and things about how he's "legally competent to stand trial" and all that stuff. No, I'm talking 'bout from my perspective, as Big John Long's only daughter; he just went off the deep end, that's all I can figure.

  Hard as it is to take, I find myself feelin' like most of the folks in town. That is that Daddy meant well in what he did, you know getting' rid of the bad element and such. But, at the same time I just chalk tha
t up to a sick mind. In many ways I feel sorry for my Daddy. In many more ways I hate him for what he's done. I could go on forever about this but the main things that eat at me are that he destroyed our family, marked us for life as the "crazy Longs", and really, for a long time to come, crippled the small town way of life of Barnsdall. I mean folks are on such edge now, even after the killer is caught. I 'spose I don't blame them though, as what happened was horrible. Let me put it another way ? I shouldn't blame them, but I do. I have a lot of anger boiling up inside me about the whole damned thing.

  They've got me seeing this psychiatrist; you know to help me get past all of this, to express my feelings and all that jive. Actually, through counselors at school and such it seems like everybody in town's seeing some sort of head shrinker. I guess that's appropriate in these types of situations. But then again, is there any appropriate way to deal with a situation like this? Anyway, sometimes it does feel good to get it off my chest; but other times I just want to hide away and pretend it never happened.

  I'm starting to understand, with some prodding by that psychiatrist (her names Dr. Broch), what may have been going on in Daddy's head. It really must've been like his mind had made sense of it all, that he was protecting the community or something. It's just too crazy for me to fully comprehend really.

  I say that, but I'm not sure deep down I mean it. I have a burning desire to understand why Daddy felt compelled to do what he did. I'm less concerned about getting over the whole thing than I am about gaining the knowledge of why he did it. What drove him to such lengths? Was it the world? Did he have some master plan? Was he acting on impulse, pure anger ? I don't think so? Or was he just completely off his rocker ? "competent to stand trial" tells me someone thinks otherwise. So then why did he do it? I suppose we'll never know the full story 'cause he ain't talkin' much, not even to me and Momma. He's takin' that "right to remain silent" thing pretty seriously apparently. They say that's the smart thing to do when you're arrested, but from the looks of things I don't think its smarts causing Daddy to be silent. No, I think he's just slid farther off that cliff. I mean he's fallen deeper into his ? well his sick mind. But what do I know? I'm just a kid, right?

  As time goes by and things get back to normal ? ha ha, normal; like anything will ever get back to normal. Well as the terrible murders seem farther away ? like in the past, in the place of your mind where the memories aren't quite so vivid. You know that place where when you think of something that happened, it's like you're remembering things happening on a real foggy morning rather than a clear sunny day. You know what I mean? As time trudges forward I find myself noticing how much people treat me differently than before; like I'm to be feared. Even my bestest friend, if she even is anymore, Heather seems to look at me with suspicious eyes; like I might turn into my Daddy or something. Like it runs in the family or the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. It's a lot to handle ? it sure is.

  At least this fear of me folks seem to have has caused my teachers to be a little nicer to me. I mean they don't seem to rag on me as much. Maybe they're afraid I'll snap, like Daddy did, and catch them out some where with a big knife. Or maybe it's what Dr. Broch tells me it might be, that it might be my teachers are just trying to be nice to me 'cause they know I'm going through tough times. I suppose that makes sense too, but it just feels like they're scared of me.

  An example: I stopped by Heather's on the way to school one day; so we could walk to school together, just her and me. As we headed down her front walk, just about to the street, I heard her mother call her back to the house. I know I wasn't supposed to hear what was said, but I can read lips a little bit and I can sure read body language. The conversation between Heather and her mother went somethin' like this:

  "Heather ? Heather, come here," Heather's Mom had concern in her voice, and it was written all over her face as well; she also waved her arm back towards herself, like fanning, to reinforce Heather to get a move on.

  "What is it Momma," Heather started to slowly stroll towards her mother. This only made her Mom wave her arm harder and scowl even more.

  "Heather, come here!" She didn't shout loudly, she kind of shouted softly, if you know what I mean. Heather quickened her step just a little.

  "What is it, I'm comin' Momma."

  "Where are you going?"

  "Where'm I going?" Heather clearly didn't understand the question. Surely her mother knew she was going to school. I mean where else would she be going at this time of the morning on a school day? Duh!

  "Where are you going with ? with the Long girl?"

  "The Long girl ? you mean Jessi ? you know my best friend as well as I do Momma," Heather sounded a little bit like she was sticking up for me.

  "Ok Heather, then where are you going with Jessi?"

  "Well Momma, we're walking to school. I mean it starts in just a bit. Where did you think we were going?"

  "I ? I don't know Heather ? it really doesn't matter. Are you walking alone?"

  "Well no Momma, I'm walkin' with Jessi."

  "No I mean are you walking alone with Jessi; just the two of you?"

  "Well yeah, that was the plan. Heck we've walked together to school many times before."

  "Yeah I know Heather ? I know; but things are different now."

  "Different?"

  "Yes different ? after all that's happened, after what her Father did. Surely you can see things are ? are ? well different now."

  "Well Momma I don't ?" Heather was cut off.

  "Let's talk about this later honey, right now I'll just drive you both to school so you won't be alone ? I'll pick you up today after school as well ? then we can talk about this further with your Daddy this evening. Jessi ? Jessi come on now with me and Heather ? I'll drive ya'll to school."

  Heather's mother did just that, and not a word was said the whole trip. I guess the next day was when I really started to notice Heather lookin' at me with those suspicious eyes. I can only imagine what that conversation went like; you know the one between Heather and her Mom and Dad later that evening. But I bet it was decided that I was not to be trusted. It was probably decided that they should all steer clear of me ? and probably be suspicious of me from now on. That's what I bet happened.

  As for my brother Johnny ? he was so young I'm sure he couldn't grasp what happened at the time. He just went on bein' his usual chipper self; always smilin' and giggling and such. His positive attitude helped me a lot. Just to see him in such a good mood helped, occasionally, take my mind off of the terrible events.

  However, I do think he quickly noticed the absence of Daddy. How could he not? I mean he loved his Daddy. And ? with Daddy being such a powerful force in the family; you know some Daddy's are absent or quiet, but not ours. No, Daddy was loud and opinionated, like at the dinner or breakfast table, he pushed his influence out to his children. He tried to mold us with his opinions and mannerisms. Certainly even a small child like Johnny would be impacted by that. Right?

  While Johnny seemed to bear the burden the family was under (because of Daddy's crazy actions) better than the rest of us, something told me that down the line, as he grew up and started goin' to school and being 'round other kids more, that it would impact him greatly. Even a young child can't escape the demons of his father forever. Eventually Johnny would have to pay the piper; that is pay for the sins of the father. I felt bad for Johnny. I didn't want to see him goin' through what I was going through; it just wasn't fair. But ? as we all know, as I know all too well now ? life ain't fair. Life can be damned cruel and doesn't really care about right and wrong. If you're meant to be crapped on then there just ain't much you can do about it. I know I must sound pessimistic, but goodness; don't I have a reason to be?

  Johnny's my little brother, and I'm supposed to protect him ? I think. Whether I'm supposed to or not; I want to. But this thing ? this being labeled as the "crazy Longs" is something I know I can't protect him
from. It's just gonna be something he'll have to learn how to deal with on his own. I wish him luck. Of course I'll always be there to help him in the tough times, but some things have to be dealt with on your own. Coming to terms with what Daddy did is something we all have to figure out deep inside. It's a lonely job. Damn it Daddy! Why'd ya have to be a nut case? He'd never answer that question.

  I remember how fast I had to grow up when Daddy was caught. How it seems that day ? snap ? just like that, I went from being a foot loose and fancy free kid, to being a grown up in a kids body. All childish things had to be put aside and I had to learn how to deal with grown up problems. Really how many adults even have to learn how to deal with finding out their parent is a serial killer? And I was just a kid, only seven at the time ? now about three years older.

  I certainly learned things I wished I hadn't. I learned while the Bible teaches us forgiveness, people rarely do it; not in full anyway. I learned that while individual folks (that is by themselves) seem to be able to grasp common sense; in a group they seem to feed off negativity more than anything else and stick to sensationalizing things. The common sense I'm referring to is that I, and Johnny too, are not our Daddy. That just because he was a crazy serial killer doesn't mean I will turn out to be one. But ? I suppose it doesn't mean I won't either; at least that's how folks seem to think.

  Growin' up overnight is not healthy. It just can't be, right? I mean I feel like I was robbed of my childhood. Like one night someone snuck in through my bedroom window and stole my care free days; like a piece of jewelry sitting on the chest of drawers. I think people like to steal childhoods. I really do! I think some people like to show care free children that "life's hard ya see ? it's been hard on me and dog gone it, it should be hard on you too ? how dare you think you can live happily ? welcome to the real world!".

  I often wonder if losing my childhood so early, and so quickly, will cause me trouble as an adult. I think Dr. Broch thinks it might because she constantly mentions things like that. She doesn't come right out and say it like that, but I get her point. Her point is that if I don't have a healthy childhood then I might snap, at say twenty-five, and revert back to childish things because I missed them. Meaning that I will simply not focus on adult things (like job, career, family) and start just runnin' 'round and partying and doing drugs or worse. I see her point, but at my age it's hard to think what I'll be doing that far into the future. Does it even matter?

  Momma changed too, and not all for the better. In some ways her being free from Daddy's negative influences helped her become her own person. But ? in many other ways being her own person has made her less caring and distant than she ever was before. I'm not saying she doesn't care about Johnny and me, I'm just pointing out that she's carried the whole "what I don't know won't hurt me" thing even further.

  I always thought Momma was purposely blind to what Daddy was; the killer he had inside. I think she saw the signs, maybe even knew out right that he was (or at least could be) doing the things he did. But instead of doin' somethin' about it she just stood by with her eyes closed and her hands over her ears mumbling to herself: "what I don't know ? blah blah blah".

  I tell you it's hard to honor thy mother and father when one is a serial killer and the other was clearly his enabler. And now ? that enabler is simply an absent parent, just a shell of a person really. If I ever have kids I won't do this to them. No, I'll do a better job of being a parent. But I suppose every child thinks that when they're young, but at some point, between childhood and adulthood, those passions to be a great parent get lost in the greed and selfishness of what I see adults to be.

  I suppose it's obvious from my writing that this whole thing has made me less than a happy person. Again, don't I have a reason to be? Oh, dear diary ? did you think this story would close with a happy ending? Welcome to the "real world", where Daddy's kill folks and Momma's drift off to oblivion!

  But folks tell me life goes on. Dr. Broch tells me all things heal with time. What great insight from a psychiatrist! I want to say: "you spent all those years in school to figure that out".

  Daddy's scheduled for lethal injection soon and that's gonna be another hard day I'll have to live with. Although his lawyer says not to worry, that appeals will stretch this out for a long time; like that makes things any better.

  The preacher says life is about loss ? duh! That's an understatement. Sometimes when folks talk like that (say things I don't agree with and such) I understand why Daddy did away with them; then I come to my senses ? sometimes.