Stanley & Hazel: The Winnowing

by Jo Schaffer

  “That might be something. Other than that … lie low, okay? Be a debutante, and avoid me and the Knights for a while. I want them to think we’re through. Don’t want them to think you’re mixed up in what Artie did. It might be the only way to keep you safe.”

  “I don’t care about that. I want to help. And I don’t want to stay away from you.”

  Stanley sighed and released Hazel from his arms. “Look at me. C’mon … I want to see those blue peepers.”

  Hazel locked eyes with Stanley. “What?”

  “You got your bracelet to remind you of me and take me with you wherever you go. Joan of Arc is a protector. She was a tough dame … like you. And you’ve got Henri.” He gestured to where the dog lay on the floor, sleeping at their feet.

  Hazel felt like crying. “What about you? What will protect you?”

  Stanley slipped one side of his suspenders off and unbuttoned his shirt. He opened it so she could see the tattoo on the left side of his chest: a heart pierced by a crown of thorns, surrounded by blue flames. “See? This is the Sacred Heart of Jesus. It represents his love for everyone. That’s what protects me. Although Henri would probably do a great job too.” He grinned.

  His religion felt foreign to her, but she knew what it meant to him. “I’ll try to trust your faith.” Hazel kissed the tattoo and then looked up at Stanley. “Now it represents my love too.”

  Stanley placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her forehead and then her lips. “Thank you,” he said.

  Hazel smiled.

  Henri yawned and looked up at Hazel on the couch. Hazel bent to scratch his head. “Braver Hund. Look at you, keeping me all safe.”

  Stanley laughed. He stood and stretched. “I’m sorry, baby. I gotta finish typing up this article. Things are going to get dicey after what Artie did. We have to be ready.”

  “Okay. Think you could walk me home?”

  “Sure thing, doll.”

  “Wake up, Lord Stanley.” A husky, feminine voice worked its way through his unconscious.

  He opened his eyes and groaned. Sleeping on the boxcar floor hadn’t done him any favors, but his legs were too long for the sofa. Stanley stretched, and his back crackled. Rubbing his eyes, he saw Frisky and the rest of the Knights standing over him. All of them looked scared.

  “Frisky. Guys. Good morning.” He pushed the old, plaid blanket off and yawned.

  “More like, good afternoon, lazy pants,” Shuffles said, offering Stanley his hand. He took it and pulled himself up.

  “Where is Arthur?” he asked, putting his suspenders over his shoulders.

  “That’s what we wanted to ask you,” Jakob said.

  “I don’t know. He disappeared last night, telling me he was done with the Knights.”

  “What happened at the Veiled Prophet Ball? It’s all over the newspapers this morning,” Shuffles asked.

  Stanley sighed and then told them what Arthur did and what happened at the crypt afterward.

  Anino whistled. “I always knew Arthur was cracked like an egg, but I never thought he would try to kill anyone.”

  “I did,” Stanley said, hanging his head. “But I always thought that’s because he lost his mind for a moment.”

  Furrowing his brow, Jakob said, “What’s that about?”

  Sighing, Stanley rubbed his muscles and walked to the boxcar opening. “It’s when we first met. You know how we always talked and joked about him stabbing me? Well, he actually did, but he wasn’t aiming for me.”

  Frisky put a hand on his arm. “What’s the story?”

  “I was walking home from, well, a date, and I took a shortcut through an alley in Gaslight Square. Artie was there, confronting a group of swells; college boys. They were all mocking him. He attacked them, and they started to beat the crap out of him. I stepped in, knocked a few heads, until there was one guy left. Artie took out a knife and started swinging at the frat boy. I tried to stop him from killing the guy. But he turned on me and got me in the shoulder. But I’d scattered the mob and saved him from the meat wagon. So after that, Artie felt some kind of loyalty. Not that I asked for it,” Stanley said, rubbing his face.

  That night swam into Stanley’s memory. Artie had looked wild, uncontrollable, and capable of killing. But he’d always dismissed it as a reaction in the moment. And in the few years since then, Artie had calmed down, didn’t mutter about revenge, and seemed to take to the Knights mission to help those who needed it. He’d developed the pigeons, trained them, and even ended up recruiting Shuffles into the Knights. Now he realized that Arthur had been using the pigeons for his own purposes. He had revenge on his mind the whole time.

  “Was Charles there?”

  “No, not that I remember. But Artie was looking for him. Or something. He never told me the details about what happened between their families.”

  Frisky raised her chin. “I know, Stanley. He never told anyone but me.”

  Anino said, “Yeah, I always figured it had to be bad, to make him the way he was.”

  “It was bad. Worse than you can even imagine,” Frisky said, tears filling her eyes. Stanley had never seen her like this.

  “Okay, so Frisky sounds like she has all the skinny. So, what happened?” Jakob asked.

  She shook her head. “I can’t say. I ain’t gonna squeal on Artie.”

  Stanley sighed. “We need to help him, Frisky. And the only way we can do that is to get the low down.”

  She didn’t say anything for a moment. “Artie was a sweet kid, you know. Gentle, kind. Innocent even.”

  Shuffles snorted, and everyone looked at him. “Sorry. Just hard to buy that one.”

  “Well, we grew up together, played together, and even shared our first kiss.” She wiped a tear away and cleared her throat.

  Stanley raised an eyebrow, but Frisky said, “Don’t get the wrong idea, King of the Lips. It was a kiss between two kids, nothing more. He’s more like my brother and always has been.”

  She sighed. “But then, the Chouteau family started hanging around. They were such a fancy family, and the Stewarts were in awe to have such important friends. They got to hang out in their mansion and have picnics and such. But they wanted something … Artie’s dad was a smart mathematician and developed some sort of numbers thing.”

  A chill ran up Stanley’s spine. “For what?”

  “I dunno, a way to catalogue people, I guess. Artie explained it once, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. It was meant to help the military in some way. But the Chouteaus wanted it for some private purpose.”

  Jakob’s face went pale. “The Winnowing. They wanted it for The Winnowing.”

  Frisky scrunched up her face. “What’s that?”

  Stanley shook his head. “Later. Finish your story.”

  She nodded, sitting on the sofa, hands in her lap. “Well, they wanted to buy it from him and IBM. But I think Artie’s father got a bad vibe or something. And he refused to give up his research. IBM tried to force his hand and then fired him. But still, he wouldn’t budge. So I guess they went one step further.” Frisky paused, twisting her curly, red hair like mad. “Sorry, it’s all so nutty. Sometimes I doubt the story, to be honest.”

  Anino sat by her and said, “It ain’t so nutty. We’ve seen some pretty crazy things lately.”

  She nodded. “Artie told me some of it. Including about that Sandy dame. She’s no good for him. I think she’s gone crazy after what happened to her sister. She’s kinda pushed him over the edge too.”

  Stanley always thought Arthur dragged Sandy into her darkness. But maybe it was mutual. Hard to pull that knot of anger apart. Probably one fueled the other.

  “Well, anyway, one night, they kidnapped Artie and his mom. And Charles was one of them; the leader I think. Artie never gave many details. But they tortured them in front of Artie’s dad, who finally broke, gave his ideas to them and IBM. His dad went into the bottle and never came out. And hi
s mom went insane from whatever happened that night. They locked her away. It broke little Artie, made him dark and want to kill the world.” Her voice was raspy with emotion. She dragged a hand through her tangle of red hair.

  Silence filled the boxcar, broken only by the sound of Frisky’s sniffing back tears. The other Knights seemed lost in their own thoughts. Stanley sat on the edge of the boxcar and stared out into the trees. So that’s what happened. If that had happened to him, he might have done worse things than Artie had. Then he realized, it did happen to him. They tortured Peggy, stole her baby, and turned her loose on the streets. And made it impossible for her to be his mother.

  Anger welled up in Stanley, and he wanted them to pay. Maybe he shouldn’t have stopped Artie last night. But then, he realized, he didn’t do it for the swells, he did it for his friend, to keep him from destroying himself by becoming a killer.

  Stanley couldn’t give up on Arthur, especially now, when the VP and Legion world would be hunting him and probably Stanley too. They were in this together, and he couldn’t just leave his friend to a possibly brutal death. He was a brother, just like Vinnie had been. And you don’t leave family, no matter what.

  “We have to find him, boyos, that’s facts,” Stanley said. “We can’t just leave him out there by himself.”

  Much to his surprise, Frisky stood and grabbed Stanley in a huge bear hug, breaking down and weeping. Looking up at the other Knights, they all just stared at her. No one had ever seen her like this. So Stanley wrapped her up in his arms and patted her on the head.

  “This is all you get, Ladies’ Man,” she said, mouth muffled in his chest.

  He sighed and shook his head, amused. “Where would Arthur go after all this?”

  She sat back down on the sofa and wiped her eyes. “Well, his mom just got moved to this swanky asylum down in south city. It’s high class.”

  “Oh? How could they afford that?” Jakob wondered.

  Frisky shrugged. “Don’t know, but it’s where all the crazy richies go, I think.”

  Stanley said, “Yeah … loony swells like Charles Chouteau …” Stanley scratched his head. “Okay, you mugs, we need to keep getting The Knights Voice out there. I have a new edition all typed up. Make sure it happens. Frisky, can you get me into the asylum?”

  She nodded. “I’m on the visitor list. All the nurses like me. I go there once a week to read to her. I don’t think you’re gonna get the skinny from her, Stanny.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe not, but maybe we’ll run into Artie there.” Stanley looked at all of them and said, “I probably don’t need to say this, but things just got a hell of a lot worse last night.”

  Shuffles nodded. “Seen the papers. They’re calling for the streets to be swept clean from the vermin and rabble.”

  Jakob snorted in disgust. “Yeah. They’re even calling for the roundup of ‘undesirables’ to be shipped to work camps so they can be ‘reeducated.’”

  “Funny how it’s all the swells and eggheads calling for this. They make evil sound reasonable and sensible, that only a nut would disagree with,” Anino said.

  “Yeah, well, other than passing out papers, I want you mugs to lay low. No more trips to Lindell for a bit. Don’t go far from home,” Stanley said, smoothing out his hair and grabbing his hat.

  Anino frowned as he grabbed him by the arm. “What about the families who need us? And need the food.”

  “Won’t be more food if we end up in the cooler or the meat wagon. Or worse,” Stanley said. “I can’t make you all obey me, but I’m asking you to.”

  They all nodded, and Anino said, “All right, Lord Stanley. To hear is to obey.”

  Stanley snorted. “Just get out of here, you mugs.”

  After they all left, Frisky recovered herself and said, “Well, your plan to get us alone has finally worked.”

  Stanley hopped down and then held out his hand. “Sorry, Frisky, I’m a one woman fella now. You might as well tattoo Hazel’s name on my chest.”

  She chuckled. “I know, Catlicker. I just like giving you stuff. I like this fancy girl. She’s tamed the beast and all that.”

  They took the trolley into the city and then walked ten blocks to the insane asylum that was surrounded by a tall, wrought iron fence. Stanley marveled at the well-manicured lawns and trees surrounding the entire grounds. There was a large fountain and statuary out front. It looked more like an English manor than a nut house.

  “Guess it pays to be rich and insane,” Stanley said as they passed through the high, arched gate and walked up the stone stairs to the entrance.

  “And how. This place is like a country club.”

  Stanley frowned. “Then how did Artie’s mom get here?”

  Frisky shrugged. “Dunno, exactly. The nurses think it’s some richie swell footing the bill, a Good Samaritan and all that.”

  They went inside, and Stanley could hear Brahms playing from a loud gramophone somewhere down the spacious hall. Frisky approached the large, wooden visitor desk and gave the nurse there her best smile.

  “Hiya, Frieda, I’m here to see Mrs. Stewart.”

  The young nurse, not much older than Stanley and Frisky, smiled. “She’s in the recreation room today. It seems to be a good day. No fits.”

  “Was Artie hear to see her?”

  The nurse shook her head. “I’ve not seen him, but then, I just got on duty about half an hour ago. I’ll tell him you were looking for him next time I see him.”

  Frisky nodded and then said, “This is Artie’s best pal, Stanley. We were supposed to meet here.”

  The nurse looked Stanley up and down, giving him a wide smile. “Well, aren’t you a grand friend.”

  “Easy there, Frieda, Stanny boy is taken up with a swell.” Frisky raised a pinky as if drinking from a teacup.

  “Shame.” Frieda winked. “Well, here are your passes.”

  Stanley took his and pinned it to his shirt. Frisky led him down the hallway and said, “Whew, you didn’t need me. All you had to do was look at Frieda, and she would’ve done whatever you asked.”

  He coughed. “I doubt it.”

  Frisky grinned. “Whatever you say, Casanova.”

  They got to the recreation room, and Stanley looked around. It had tall windows that let in plenty of sunlight but were blocked by thin, metal bars. There were tables and chairs and shelves of books and games. Some people played checkers or cards and looked pretty normal. But one lady with long, thin, black hair walked around in circles, muttering, “I’m a victim. I’m a victim. I’m a victim.” And a man with a big, bushy, black beard looked around, head cocking like a bird and then said, “Whoop. Whoop. Whoop.”

  “One thing I can’t figure out about this nut house,” Frisky said, as she scanned the room.

  “What’s that?” Stanley said, brows furrowed.

  “Well, they give everyone a tattoo here.”

  Stanley’s heart jumped and skipped into his throat. “What did you say?”

  “Yeah, numbers. I think that’s how they keep track of everyone,” she said.

  He looked at all the patients’ arms, and he could make out the faint ink stains, very similar to Evelyn’s and Vinnie’s tattoos.

  “Christ have mercy,” he said. “They are marked by The Winnowing. Artie’s dad’s system.”

  Frisky gripped his arm. “My God. Why didn’t I connect the dots before?”

  Stanley didn’t say anything, because he noticed the tall blond-haired doctor striding through the room. It was Dr. Galton, the guy Hazel worked for. His skin prickled. Of course that mug would be tangled up in all of this.

  “Frisky, find Artie’s mom. I gotta do something. I’ll meet you back here.”

  “You got it.”

  Stanley took off his hat and slipped back into the hallway. He cracked open a few doors until he found one with something useful. He grabbed a white coat that someone had left at a desk. He picked up a notebook and pretend
ed to read it as he hurried down the hall he’d seen Dr. Galton following. As Stanley rounded a corner, he saw the doctor trotting down a flight of stairs. Stanley waited for a few moments and then snuck down the stairs after him.

  He peered around the corner and saw a brick hallway. The doctor had disappeared into one of the doors at the end of the hallway. Stanley crept down the hall and pressed his ear against one door. He could hear the murmur of voices but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.

  Looking around, he opened the door next to that one and found himself in a dark room with a large conference table and no windows. Stanley thought he could listen in on the next room through the wall, when suddenly a door opened up between the rooms, and the voices became louder.

  They were coming in.

  Stanley dropped to the floor and slid under the table just as a light clicked on in the room. Several people shuffled in, talking, with drinks and folders in hand. Stanley watched in horror as they began to seat themselves at the table. A few dresses and several suit pants later, he was surrounded where he hunkered beneath the table. The sound of glasses being set down and papers being rustled mixed with bits of conversation. They were talking about the VP Ball.

  “The young boy’s rash actions were actually a good thing, and no one died, thanks to the newsie hero,” Dr. Galton’s voice rose above the others.

  “Indeed, the Mystical Seer is most pleased. The papers are, with our prompting, practically screaming for a public version of The Winnowing. The people are afraid, so they are cooperating. This has accelerated his plans. The great sweep will begin,” another man’s voice said.

  “What about the camps? Are they ready?” a woman asked.

  “They are. And the train cars are ready to be filled. We’ve been keeping candidates in the Lemp caves for some time. Fortunately, they were not discovered when that incident with Legion and those girls occurred. The police on the scene were helpful. Now that batch is ready to be moved for reeducation,” Dr. Galton answered.

  “The mayor is going to sign the order sometime today to get rid of the Hoovervilles in Forest Park and round up any women deemed unfit, subnormal, or genetically defective, along with any sort of street riff raff. Soon our streets will be safer than ever. Our city will be an example to other chapters,” a quiet, male voice announced.