I’ve always been the type of person who kept feelings bottled up, but one thing bothers me to the point of rage. Maybe because I was brutalized as a kid, I can’t tolerate parents mistreating their children. It triggers the old feelings inside me—reminds me of all I took at the hands of my mother—who claimed it was for my own good.
When I saw Marsha Parsons smack her little boy, it was the smirk on her face that enraged me—a look exactly like the one my mother used to get during her beatings. I thought about something my roommate at Julliard, a Muslim man from Egypt, told me. He said there was an old Islamic law of Hudud—where a thief’s hand was cut off as punishment for his crime.
That woman was stealing her little boy’s childhood—the same way my mother had stolen mine. She was hurting him in ways that would last far longer than the sting of her slap. I imagined cutting off Marsha Parsons’ offending hand. I tried to get the image out of my mind, but I was unsuccessful. It became an obsession. I followed her home. And once I knew where she lived and studied the habits of the family, I put my plan into action. Three nights in a row, her husband disappeared after dinner.
Four days after I watched her slap her little boy, I arrived at her house under the cover of darkness. When I found the hatchet hanging on a pegboard in her garage, I decided not to use my own.
After I completed my mission, I rinsed the hatchet, dried it carefully and returned it to the pegboard. It wasn’t hard to figure out that her husband was in the food business. I saw a stack of white aprons on the washing machine. So I took one that was already stained from the hamper and planted his wife’s blood on it. He’s a terrible man and I felt no guilt at framing him. Maybe a few weeks in jail was good for Mr. Parsons.
I didn’t leave the gloves behind because I knew a skilled forensics man could detect a fingerprint on the inside. I washed the hand, dried it, then drew that line image of a mother holding her baby with such an expression of love on her face.
I know you are wondering why I took the hand back to the place where the abuse occurred. I did it to change the vibrational energy left by the rage. I lit sage incense and let the smoke penetrate. I did it to cleanse the air and bring love back into it. Because no matter how much we want the past to die, it never does. What happens in a place haunts the very ground below it.
The illustrations I drew on the hands were an apology to the child who had been injured by them. I needed to believe that parents feel remorse after they hurt their children. I didn’t paint my mother’s hands because she never felt any remorse. And I no longer wanted her apology.
Though I deliberately poisoned my mother with the chloroform (it would have been too hard for me to look into her eyes as I cut off her hands) I never intended for Baker to die that way. Once I got him tied to the chair, I’d planned to take off the gag. But his little boy came home and I had to change my plan. I installed the lock on the boy’s door because I didn’t want him to awaken and hear me taking his father away. I didn’t want him to be frightened.
I had a new plan for Brad Baker to wake up and see himself naked on that portable toilet. I wanted him to understand exactly what I was doing to him and why, but the chloroform killed him and he was dead by the time we arrived at Thomas Flannigan Sports Park. I’ve read that the soul often lingers near the body after death. I can only hope that Bradford Baker’s soul hovered there, realizing how much he’d hurt the people he was supposed to love. Otherwise, what was the point?
I guess that’s all you need or want to know. Probably more than you wanted. Again, I’m so sorry. You were kind to me, almost like I imagined a dad would be. You deserved better than I gave you. Please continue to love Gracie and be such a great father to Lizzie and Jonathan. Love them for me, too. Because, even though I turned out to be a monster, I do love those two kids.
Radhauser carefully folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. He wasn’t sure he’d share it with Gracie. It felt too vulnerable. The words too personal for eyes that weren’t intended to see them. Of course, he’d have to enter it into evidence, but he’d make a copy first.
It would be one of those things, like Laura's wedding ring and Lucas' last pair of cowboy boots, that he'd pack away. A letter in a box at the back of his closet. Something he'd never expect to see again, but couldn't quite make himself discard—like the dreams we hold for our children but need to let go when they find their own.
For now, Radhauser tucked the letter into his back pocket. He wasn’t ready to face anyone, so he used the barn intercom to tell Gracie he needed to leave for a while to gather more evidence. And maybe it was the truth. Or maybe the truth was too painful to admit, even to Gracie.
When he arrived at Red Hatchet Falls, he did search for something—the box containing Cooper's poems and songs, but was unable to find it. Still, being in that beautiful spot again, knowing how important it had been to Cooper, felt…well…it was hard for him to find the word. Incomprehensible came close. The tragedy and horror were unavoidable. But standing in the mist and the roar of the waterfall felt holy—like it was somehow exactly right for him to be in the place where Cooper breathed for the very last time.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Three weeks later, Radhauser stood next to Kareem in the home dugout on field #5 of the Thomas Flannigan Sports Park. The players on Bradford Baker’s team had been reassigned to other teams. Radhauser, who took over the coaching responsibilities for the Cardinals, requested Kareem Azami.
Radhauser dropped his arm across the boy’s shoulder, handed him the batter’s helmet and walked beside him to the batter’s circle. “Remember what I told you. Level swing and follow through. Keep your eyes on the ball. And step into your pitch.”
Kareem put on the batting helmet and took a few practice swings.
“You’re looking good, slugger.”
Radhauser had been working with Kareem, practicing an extra half-hour almost every night. He so hoped Kareem would get a hit this time. He wanted the boy to experience the excitement that came with the smack of the ball against the bat. And hearing his teammates cheer. Radhauser had taken Kareem out of right field and put him on first base. He taught him the proper throwing motion and they’d discovered he had a good arm. Might even be a pitcher someday.
Radhauser glanced up at the bleachers where Daria and Ahmed sat next to Gracie and Jonathan. Daria held their baby, Nadima Jasmine, in a sling draped over her shoulder. She’d traded her niqab for a less conservative hijab. Maybe the Azamis were serious about becoming more Americanized. Ahmed had recovered enough to go back to work at Costco. He passed his medical examinations last week and was in the process of filling out applications to residency programs.
Sully, Rishima and Rodney were there, too. Rodney wore the red vest Rishima had knitted for him as the raccoon was now the unofficial mascot for the Cardinals Little League team. Because Gracie wanted to do something to celebrate the official beginning of summer, and to make their lives feel normal again, they were hosting a picnic after the game.
Cooper’s body had been cremated. When his Uncle Rollins refused to claim the ashes, Radhauser hiked them up to Red Hatchet Falls and sprinkled them over the red rocks. He purposely made the trip at sunset and sat on a boulder and watched the water turn red. Darkness grew and quietly swallowed the landscape.
With the whisper of the wind through the treetops, Radhauser thought about the way life handed us our tragedies—like the unexpected deaths of Laura and Lucas. But the life of Cooper T. Drake, ending in such dark violence, had changed Radhauser. Maybe even taught him some things about a child’s dreams and being a father who loved without condition.
Just as Radhauser had expected, the Grants Pass police department found no fault with Jenkins’ officer-involved shooting and he was back at work. They did, however, offer a public apology and paid Ahmed’s medical expenses that weren’t covered by insurance. They also compensated him for the time he had to take off from work. Radhauser assumed his threat to help the Azamis bring a suit
against them had something to do with their generosity.
Kareem stepped up to the plate.
Radhauser turned his full attention to his player.
On the first pitch, Kareem hit a foul ball that landed just left of the third baseline. "Way to get a piece of it." The Cardinals in the dugout cheered. As did Ahmed from the stands.
Radhauser touched Kareem’s shoulder. “Choose your pitch. You swung a little too early that time. Wait for a good one.”
And damn if the next pitch wasn't perfect. Kareem hit a line drive straight at the pitcher who slowed it down but dropped the ball and it rolled into center field.
The Cardinals in the dugout were on their feet, hanging onto the cyclone fence and cheering.
Kareem headed toward third base with a huge smile on his face. The center fielder picked up the ball that was about to roll between his legs and made an almost impossible throw to third. And, just as impossibly in this age group, the third baseman caught it.
The play was a close call, but the umpire called Kareem out.
He took off the helmet, hung his head, plodded back to the dugout and sat down hard.
Lizzie scooted closer to him and looped her arm over his shoulders. "It was a great hit, Kareem. It should have been a home run. They just got lucky." She shrugged and looked Kareem straight in the eyes. "I know it's not always fair. But in the game of baseball, the umpire is always the boss."
When she spotted her daddy looking at her, Lizzie snapped him a salute, a smile blowing wide across her face.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
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ABOUT SUSAN CLAYTON-GOLDNER
Susan Clayton-Goldner was born in New Castle, Delaware and grew up with four brothers along the banks of the Delaware River. She is a graduate of the University of Arizona's Creative Writing Program and has been writing most of her life. Her novels have been finalists for The Hemingway Award, the Heeken Foundation Fellowship, the Writers Foundation and the Publishing On-line Contest. Susan won the National Writers' Association Novel Award twice for unpublished novels and her poetry was nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
Her work has appeared in numerous literary journals and anthologies, including Animals as Teachers and Healers, published by Ballantine Books, Our Mothers/Ourselves, by the Greenwood Publishing Group, The Hawaii Pacific Review-Best of a Decade, and New Millennium Writings. A collection of her poems, A Question of Mortality was released in 2014 by Wellstone Press. Prior to writing full time, Susan worked as the Director of Corporate Relations for University Medical Center in Tucson, Arizona.
Susan shares a life in Grants Pass, Oregon with her husband, Andreas, her fictional characters, and more books than one person could count.
Find Susan online:
Website – http://susanclaytongoldner.com
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/susan.claytongoldner
Twitter – https://twitter.com/SusanCGoldner
Blog – http://susanclaytongoldner.com/my-blog---writing-the-life.html
Tirgearr Publishing – http://www.tirpub.com/scgoldner
BOOKS BY SUSAN CLAYTON-GOLDNER
WINSTON RADHAUSER SERIES
REDEMPTION LAKE, #1
Released: May 2017
ISBN: 9781370712939
Tucson, Arizona–Detective Winston Radhauser knows eighteen-year-old Matt Garrison is hiding something. When his best friend’s mother, Crystal, is murdered, the investigation focuses on Matt’s father, but Matt knows he’s innocent. Devastated and bent on self-destruction, Matt heads for the lake where his cousin died—the only place he believes can truly free him. Are some secrets better left buried?
WHEN TIME IS A RIVER, #2
Released: September 2017
ISBN: 9781370576975
Someone is stalking 2 year old Emily Michaelson in Lithia Park playground as she plays with her 18 year old half sister, Brandy. Not long after Emily's disappearance, Detective Radhauser finds her rainbow-colored sneakers in Ashland Creek, their laces tied together in double knots. He insists Brandy stay out of the investigation, but she’s obsessed with finding her little sister.
A RIVER OF SILENCE
Released: January 2018
ISBN: 9781370326501
The past always finds us—Caleb Bryce frantically gives CPR to 19-month-old Skyler Sterling. Less than an hour later, she’s is dead. The ME calls it murder and the entire town of Ashland is outraged. The police captain is anxious to make an arrest. Neither Det. Winston Radhauser nor Bryce’s young public defender believe he’s guilty. Radhauser will fight for justice, even if it means losing his job.
RIVER OF SHAME
Released: September 2018
ISBN: 9780463177020
Something evil has taken root in Ashland, Oregon. And with it, an uneasy feeling sweeps down on Det. Winston Radhauser. If someone doesn’t intervene, that evil will continue to multiply until the unthinkable happens. When a high school kid is branded with a homophobic slur and is hospitalized, Radhauser will do whatever it takes to find the perpetrators and restore his town’s sense of safety.
LAKE OF THE DEAD
Release: January 2019
ISBN: 9780463868874
When Parker Collins goes missing, girlfriend, Rishima, files a missing person’s report, adamant something is wrong. Radhauser agrees to investigate, soon discovering something doesn't sit right with him. Elderly neighbor, Homer "Sully" Sullivan, finds a body floating in the lake near his cottage. Could it be the missing student? Will this missing person’s case become a murder investigation?
BLOODY CREEK MURDER
Released: July 2019
ISBN: 9780463031704
Five days after a tragic fall kills her 10-year-old son, Blair Bradshaw, is found dead, her body carefully displayed under her son's tree house, among the flowers and other memorabilia left at the site of his death. Husband Franklin believes it's suicide, but after Detective Winston Radhauser reviews the evidence, he believes otherwise. Was it grief that killed her? Or was it murder?
ADDITIONAL BOOKS BY SUSAN
A BEND IN THE WILLOW
Released: January 2017
ISBN: 9781370816842
In 1965, Robin Lee Carter sets a fire that kills her rapist, then disappears, reinventing herself as Catherine Henry. In 1985, when her 5-year-old son, Michael, is diagnosed with a chemotherapy-resistant leukemia, she must return to Willowood and seek out the now 19-year-old son she gave up for adoption. Is she willing to risk everything, including her life, to save her dying son?
TORMENTED
Released: May 2018
ISBN: 9781370241750
Fr. Anthony's devotion to God begins to unravel the moment Rita Wittier steps inside his church and struggles to control his feelings. After 60 Minutes’ special on the Shepherd Academy, a school for disadvantaged children, Anthony becomes a national hero. But he can’t get Rita out of his mind. Just hours after telling her how he feels, she’s found dead in her car. Is it suicide, or is it murder?
MISSING PIECES
Released: April 2019
Lillianna Ferguson has spent the last twenty years pretending her father is dead. Her brother, Greg, begs her to come home to care for their father, Calvin Miller, a disabled WWII veteran. When did he ever take care of her? But the surgeon at won’t repair the aneurysm without first amputating their father’s infected leg. Will she leave her safe life and re-enter the minefield of her childhood?
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