Tom Hubbard Is Dead

by Robert Price

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Alley Hubbard curled the end of his mustache. He wondered how his sister-in-law, whom he always thought of as weak, had managed to keep that piece of truth hidden for so long. Father Hilliard was Tom’s father. Although he still hadn’t heard an apology to his dead brother Edward, Alley felt vindicated by Mrs. Hubbard’s confession. Since Edward’s death, both he and Peter had fought hard to get her to admit that she had humiliated their brother. Based on their brother Edward’s claim, over the years they had persecuted Mrs. Hubbard for rearing another man’s child while married to Edward.

  Their brother, however, had only told them part of the story. Only Mrs. Hubbard knew the whole truth. Edward had left out the fact that he found sex with women difficult, even at times revolting. He rarely touched his wife. Edward never spoke of this to anyone because he feared other men would question his manhood. So when his wife became pregnant with Tom, he stayed mum about the boy’s conception, telling no one, not even his brothers, that a marital pregnancy was impossible.

  Then one night, when Tom was just three, Mrs. Hubbard, fed up with her husband’s drunkenness and frigidity, confronted him. She told him he was “less than a man.” He responded with rage and, to prove himself, he raped her. Mrs. Hubbard became pregnant with Elizabeth.

  Relieved he now had proof of his manhood, Edward felt free to treat Tom as he saw fit. After Elizabeth’s birth, he began to regularly beat the boy. When Tom approached the tender age of ten, Edward told his brothers that the boy was a bastard, the product of an unfaithful wife. Mrs. Hubbard vehemently denied the accusations, explaining that her husband was an angry, brutal drunk. Most of the town sided with her and the rumors of her infidelity were quickly hushed—until Edward died.

  Upon Edward’s passing, his brothers wanted his dignity and their family honor restored. They took the family to court over land to which they knew they had no claim. They simply wanted the two-timing woman their brother had married to own up to her infidelities and tell the world the truth: She had been with other men and then forced her husband to raise an illegitimate boy. They wanted her to admit that Tom Hubbard was, in fact, not a Hubbard at all.

  Peter Hubbard let out a sigh, took the pipe from his shirt pocket and placed the stem back in the corner of his mouth. “Goddamn,” he muttered.

  Like his brother, Alley, he now felt sure that all their past harassment, needling and even court actions were justified. In their minds, they had finally gotten what they had fought for, the restoration of their brother’s dignity and their family honor.

  “I told you it was the priest,” Alley Hubbard commented to his brother Peter, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Guessed it years ago.” Placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder, shook it reassuringly and turned to leave.

  “You were right. Rest their souls, Tom and Edward, both of ’em victims,” Peter said, slightly pausing before turning and disappearing down the driveway behind his brother.

  Jon was the only family member who paid attention to the brothers as they departed into the night—everyone else was absorbed in their own thoughts. Even though the uncles had picked fights and been verbally brutal throughout the day, Jon wanted to call out after them and offer some kind of acknowledgement that they had all just shared a profound experience. But he knew it was inappropriate to do so.

  “Mother?” Elizabeth broke the silence.

  Exhausted, Mrs. Hubbard weighed heavily on Elizabeth and Ezekiel’s arms. She needed to sleep, to rest her head on a pillow.

  “We need to go,” Elizabeth said. She had heard too much; she felt dirty, repulsed. Violation loomed in her crotch. A man who had touched her down there against her will was, in fact, her brother’s father. And her mother had actually had sex with him! Then, willingly, she had bore his child and lied about it for a lifetime.

  No wonder her mother had done nothing when Elizabeth, as a young girl, complained to her of Father Hilliard’s touches. It had happened when she was six, twelve and again at fourteen. Her mother only told her to “cover up” and “wear more clothing.” Apparently her mother was invested in protecting Father Hilliard. Elizabeth wanted to shower, to wash off the ugly feeling that now clung to her skin. She wished she were home in California.

  “Melanie, can you drive? Where are you parked?” Elizabeth asked.

  Melanie searched her pockets for keys, unsure if she had taken them when she dressed after being with Julian. “I’m parked behind the house, in the new neighborhood, near the old haying fields. But I think I forgot my keys.”

  Even if she had had her keys, she was too intoxicated to drive. Not just her aunt, but she, too, needed her family’s help—Elizabeth, Jon, Tony and Billy, all of them. And with this realization, she hugged herself even tighter and began to weep. She wanted to live life differently. Before, when she’d left the old farmhouse with Julian, she had wanted her family to leave her alone. Now she needed them more than ever—wanted to be a part of them.

  Walking fast, almost running, Tony returned from the crowd gathering under the floodlights, where he had gone to find medical assistance for his aunt. There, he had encountered over-eager newspaper reporters and television crews, and decided it was best to simply remove his aunt from the scene himself.

  “How is she?” he said, looking at her with concern. “It’s a zoo over there. The fucking news reporters are everywhere. They want to interview a family member about Tom. They’re calling Father Hilliard Tom’s spiritual advisor. One reporter even said that if they covered the story right tonight, by tomorrow morning this place would be a shrine. He asked if I knew the family. Ted and Neil were already being interviewed, so I told him the family had left, but I don’t think he believed me.”

  Then Tony lowered his voice to a whisper to shield his aunt from his next words: “They found his body.”

  “We could take my car.” Ezekiel wanted to help the family move beyond Mrs. Hubbard’s gut-wrenching admission. “I could give you all a ride.”

  Though still ready to help Mrs. Hubbard, Ezekiel wondered how different his partner’s life might have been if the woman had been honest when Tom was born. What would it have been like if she’d raised Tom honestly? If Tom knew his real father?

  Carrie and Tommy remained a few yards away. Carrie caught herself crying several times when she thought about her own lie to her son. Was it really any worse than Mrs. Hubbard’s was to Tom?

  Her lie was a lie of omission. She was deceitful without words. While watching the family gather itself, readying to leave, she wondered what was worse: a mother who lies, pretending that God sanctions her lying, or a mother who never tells her little boy anything at all—nothing—about his father.

  She now wished they had returned to Boston after the burial. How to explain all this to a five-year-old? She realized she needed to tell Tommy about his father and the family as soon as the boy was awake enough to hear. Tomorrow, for sure.

  She looked down at her son. Tommy held Ezekiel’s knapsack and was sleepily rocking, barely standing by her side. The boy was well past exhaustion. To him everything must have seemed like a dream. Watching him look so vulnerable, she was uncertain as to the best way to proceed. They needed to leave, but she wanted to stay. After all, her son was part of this family, too—it was his grandfather who had just died.

  “Well, something needs to be done,” Elizabeth said, again breaking the silence. “Jon tell the police to just keep them away. We can’t wade through with a million news crews asking questions about Tom. We’ve gotta go.”

  “Yes, we’re going,” Jon agreed.

  Looking in the direction of the smoldering shell of a house, Tony saw several people with cameras hoisted onto their shoulders coming toward the family. “I’ll take them,” Tony said to Ezekiel. “I’ve got plenty of room in my truck and I’m parked close by. You, too, Mel—come with me.” Tony spoke with authority and urgency. Ezekiel moved toward Carrie. He reached a hand out, wanting to reassure her that he would be there fo
r her and Tommy, not only now, but always. But they were so new to him that he was unsure of how to say this, so he simply placed a hand on her cheek and asked, “How can I help?”

  Her eyes showed appreciation. Then Ezekiel knelt down in front of Tommy. “How are you?” he brushed the boy’s hair back.

  Tommy jostled the knapsack. “This is yours,” he said sleepily.

  “And yours as well, I hope, some day.” Ezekiel glanced up at Carrie who nodded confidently.

  Tony and Jon, each on one side of Mrs. Hubbard, lifted her gently and guided her safely into the darkness beyond the floodlights’ reach. Elizabeth and Melanie followed. Behind them, Ezekiel and Carrie walked with Tommy in between. The boy struggled a bit, but managed to carry Ezekiel’s knapsack over his little shoulder. The short procession that made up Tom Hubbard’s family snaked down the side of the driveway towards the street.

  ~~~

  About The Author:

  When taking a break from writing, Robert Price works as a cabinetmaker in Western Massachusetts, designing and building custom cabinetry instillations and one-of-kind home furnishings.

  For more information about Robert’s works:

  https://SlipperslopePress.com/RobertPrice.html