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The Nature of Man by Terry Wright
In the light, Justin watched the ambulance race toward Central Hospital with Captain Holland on board. He was hanging on to a thin thread of life. The coroner’s wagon idled at the curb in front of Deckers city jail, awaiting its gruesome cargo, the bodies of Simmons, Pender, and Jo Joe Peters. Nowhere in the light could Justin see Billy Denton. With hatred swelling inside, Justin cursed Billy, called him the right hand of Satan, and then slumped into a recliner that appeared from the light. Rubbing his clean-shaven cheeks, he wondered how Billy could be so evil. The punk had no respect for human life, showed no remorse, no sorrow, like the devil himself. “Why?” Justin shouted. “Justice,”
a deep voice said from the light. “Beware.” “I can’t help the way I feel.” “You
must restrain yourself, Justice, or the devil will win.” Justin knew the light was the source of all knowledge, an all-seeing force that looked over the afterlife. From the light, one could find constant turmoil or cross over to everlasting peace. Though he felt uneasy about asking questions of the light, he knew he must. “Why has the devil inflicted so much evil in this world?” “On the contrary,” the voice said softly. “Man creates evil. The devil is merely an opportunist. He feeds on the misery humans cause one another. Try as you may, you cannot change the nature of man.” Looking up, Justin squinted into the light. “You are telling me all this is humanity’s doing?” “Since the very beginning, when Adam and Eve lived in a beautiful garden and begot two sons, one of whom killed the other in a fit of rage.” “What’s up with that anyway? Weren’t we created in the image of God?” “From a God who demanded offerings of lamb’s blood and sacrificed his only son, if you believe in that sort of thing.” “Then mankind’s violent nature is rooted in his origins.” “And
that was just the beginning of the horrors to come,”
the voice said sadly. “The Romans enslaved and slaughtered millions, killing
man and beast for both conquest and sport. Christian armies butchered the pagans
in the name of their God. Self-righteous zealots branded innocent women as
witches and burned them at the stake. There is no limit to the atrocities humans
are capable of inflicting upon each other.” Justin felt guilty, almost ashamed of being a member of the human race. He watched in horror as the light revealed to him images of man's recent barbarism: scenes of the Civil War, North against South, brother against brother, young men falling dead from volleys of gunfire. Hitler’s scowling face appeared next, along with ghastly images of dead bodies sprawled in the mud and emaciated human corpses piled up like chord wood. Pearl Harbor exploded, and scenes of a world at war flashed by in vivid color, splattered blood red. Feeling a chill, Justin saw a naked Vietnamese girl running along a dirt road leading away from her burning village, her skin charred and blistered, her face wrenched in agony. Marines loaded their dead and wounded into helicopters, and B-52s rained bombs on Hanoi. Oil field fires then blackened the skies over Kuwait, and on the Highway of Death, men and equipment lay scattered about for miles, broken and burned. Next, as if the passage of time meant nothing, the light revealed a smoldering federal building, partially destroyed after a truck-bomb blast, and a fireman holding the limp and lifeless body of a child in his arms. Moments later, flaming twin towers in New York City crashed to the ground in a cloud of dust. Justin couldn’t imagine the horrible loss of life displayed before him. “Why do you show me this?” he asked of the light. “Violence is ingrained in the human experience. You are no exception.” “But I could never…” “Look again, Justice.” Two preschool boys appeared, playing in a sandbox. Justin felt a sense of recognition. The boys were fighting over a toy shovel, screaming and kicking and punching each other until the weaker submitted and ran away crying, leaving the victor alone in the sandbox, contentedly playing with the spoils of his own little war. Then a mother’s shouting voice echoed eerily from the light. “Justin! Be nice. Share with your friends or they won’t play with you anymore.” “Even you, Justice,” said the voice. “Beware of your feelings, for they could be made to serve the devil.” Shocked, Justin realized the light was right. He now understood. Human violence was inherent. “Children must be taught to be kind to each other, Justice. Those who do not learn these things from their parents are destined to be like Billy Denton, Ted Bundy, Timothy McVeigh, or the mother who smothers her crying infant to death.” Justin shuddered from the last image the voice had left in his mind. “Be sympathetic, Justice, even to the worst of these killers.” The light dimmed a little. “You have a visitor.” The voice’s ominous tone caused a hitch in Justin’s throat. A moment later, a woman emerged from the light, a fair-skinned young lady about 22 years old with sad blue eyes. Soft brown curls bounced on her shoulders as she approached Justin’s chair, her sheer lavender dress swaying gracefully with each step. Surprised, Justin sat upright, his first thoughts of how lovely she looked, his second thoughts pondering why she was here. “Hello, Justice,” she said in a whisper-soft voice. Hesitating to respond, Justin shook his head and stared at her, the nature of man still running through his brain. Death and misery and this beautiful creature had something in common, but exactly what the connection might be eluded him. A chair appeared and she sat down, crossed slender legs, and stared back. “My name is Tina Marie Jessup,” she said finally. “I need your help.” “Why would a beautiful woman like you need my help?” he asked, knowing that one’s appearance in the afterlife could be deceiving. She smiled lightly. “I don’t really look like this, but if I could have, I would have wanted to be this beautiful…if my mother had given me the chance to grow up.” “How old are you, Tina Marie?” She lowered her eyes. “Almost two months. The light has been good to me.” “Why didn’t you cross over?” “I can’t.” “Tell me about it.” “My mother…she…” A tear leaked from her right eye, a tear swollen with grief for a lifetime lost, or stolen, perhaps snatched away for the least of reasons. Justin felt her dismay and his heart began to ache for Tina Marie. “I’m listening.” Grasping composure, she finally said, “I didn’t realize what had happened until I found myself in this place and looked back at my death in the light.” “And the light gave you the knowledge.” “My diapers were soaked and smelly, and my fanny burned from the irritation of my bodily wastes, which I had no control over.” “Must’ve caused a horrible rash,” Justin said, feeling a pang of revulsion. “Like a thousand stinging diaper pins. I cried out for my mother to help me. Such a demanding wail came from my small mouth that I was surprised at all the noise I could make. But she wouldn’t come to me; she wouldn’t clean me; she ignored me.” “She didn’t hold you?” “At first, when I was brand new.” “But that night…” “My lungs hurt, I was crying so loudly.” “And then?” “I couldn’t believe what happened next, Justice. She stormed in and started yelling at me, words I only now comprehend. ‘STOP IT!’ my mother raged. I cried louder because I didn’t understand. ‘SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!’ The tone of her voice frightened me. ‘I CAN’T TAKE ANY MORE!’ Those were the last words I heard. Everything went dark. Something inside me quit working and I couldn’t make a sound anymore. My mother’s ranting faded away. She suffocated me to death with a pillow and then I found myself here. I wasn’t allowed to cross over.” “You couldn’t forgive her, could you?” “She got away with it, Justice, and I can’t find it in my heart to let it go. She needs to be punished.” Justin settled back in his chair, disguising his disgust for a mother who would do such a thing to her baby, but understanding her a little, the nature of mankind and all. “Did the law punish her?” “They called me a SIDS baby,” Tina Marie said and sniffled. “What does that mean, Justice?” Summoning a tissue from the light, Justin handed it to Tina Marie. “Sudden Infant Death Syndrome is the diagnosis given an undetermined cause of death, either by evidence at the scene, autopsy, or medical history. Crib death. A phantom killer of sleeping babies.” “That’s a lie,” she cried and dabbed away tears. “I didn’t just die; I was killed in a fit of rage.” “But good forensic pathologists can determine the difference between suffocation and SIDS.” She leaned forward in her chair. “Then Deckers’ morgue must not have the equipment for those kind of tests. They blew this one, Justice.” Justin understood. Tina Marie could never cross over until she was satisfied that her mother would pay for what she had done. He tipped his cowboy hat. “What can I do for you, ma’am?” “Give her this.” Tina Marie opened her dainty hand, revealing a tiny rattle—a red and white plastic rattle that made a delightful sound when he took it from her palm. “My mother buried me with this rattle. If she sees it again, maybe she’ll remember what she did to me and spare the child.” Justin’s stomach lurched. “What child?” Now Tina Marie motioned to the light, which showed them a vision in the land of the living.
“Mrs. Jessup—you did fine,” the doctor said and patted the back of Jody’s hand. “Now you need to rest.” Doctor Roberts was a CCD, a Community Case Doctor, paid by the county to care for patients who didn’t have health insurance. Some say he had a big heart, a small, balding man with more compassion in his little finger than the whole town of Deckers. Jody saw him as egotistical, full of himself and his position at Central Hospital. She didn’t like feeling indebted to him, even though she was. Dr. Roberts was Deckers’ only expert in SIDS, and his diagnosis of Tina Marie’s cause of death had proved invaluable. She showed him a smile. “When can we go home?” “You had a rough delivery.” “I thought it would be easy.” Dr. Roberts rubbed the back of his neck. “Second one usually is.” Jody huffed. What did he know? This delivery was a walk in the park compared to what comes next, the endless nights of crying and wailing that made every nerve in her body itch like the fever. She hoped it wouldn’t be the same this time, a god-awful thing to go through again. Tina Marie had pushed her tolerance to the edge of the universe and back, crying and crying and crying; she thought it would never end. But she put an end to it, her way, the only way she could think of, quickly, without considering the consequences. And she didn’t know what force drove her to kill her daughter. It was as if some fire inside her was burning out of control, an instinct to survive the onslaught from one little girl’s mighty lungs. “Maybe tomorrow. Can we go home tomorrow?” “Just a few more tests. I want to be sure about Rebecca Sue. You don’t want to lose another child to SIDS, now do you?” “Of course not,” Jody replied. Thank God for Dr. Roberts and SIDS. “Where’s Daniel?” “Pilgrim’s Roost, where else, sopping up suds with his loser pals.” “Celebrating, huh? Can’t say I blame him.” Jody looked away. She didn’t want to tell Dr. Roberts the truth. Daniel couldn’t care less about this baby. He’ll be gone like before, leaving her to tend to the business of motherhood; the dirty-diaper-stinking business that it is, he’d said. Dr. Roberts must’ve noticed her silence. “He didn’t want this child, did he?” Jody glanced at the doctor and then stared at the ceiling fixture. “I wanted her.” “SIDS isn’t your fault, Jody.” “It’ll be better this time.” She hoped. “Are you trying to replace Tina Marie?” She didn’t answer him. He didn’t know what he was talking about. He didn’t understand the real horrors she was about to face. Nobody… From the nursery across the hall came an infant’s shrill cry, followed by another and then two more powerful lungs joined in the nerve-grating chorus, like a nuclear reaction, out of control. Jody’s throat felt instantly dry, her palms clammy. “Dr. Roberts—the nursery. Shouldn’t you try to stop them from crying?” “It’s nothing to worry about.” He turned for the door. “Get some rest.” How could he expect her to get any sleep with all that noise—that crying and crying and crying? Her skin began to itch, and her head felt like it was going to explode.
Tomorrow came and went seven times before Dr. Roberts felt satisfied that Rebecca Sue was healthy enough to go home with Jody, who’d left Central Hospital six days before. She’d passed the time putting final touches on the nursery, a corner of her small bedroom that she shared with a husband who was rarely home. If he were, she knew she wouldn’t have to endure nights of baby-temper-tantrums alone. But nothing had changed since Tina Marie. “Her lungs are fine,” Dr. Roberts said as he handed Jody the swaddled child, a fact she bore witness to right away. Homecoming night became a living hell on earth. Nothing would silence Rebecca Sue’s mighty wail, not holding, not rocking, not singing to her—nothing. Pacing the bedroom, Jody blamed Daniel at first, then her mother for bringing her into this world. “STOP IT!” she yelled at tiny Rebecca Sue. But she knew the crying wouldn’t end. She blamed God next, but knew he didn’t care. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” Crying and crying and crying. Something inside her was growing like a nuclear mushroom. She could feel the heat and wind of a tempest boiling. In total desperation, thinking now of Dr. Roberts and SIDS, she took a pillow from her bed and clenched it in her fists as she approached Rebecca Sue’s crib of torture. When she looked into the cavernous mouth of the wailing monster she saw lying there, kicking and squirming on the mattress, her only thoughts were of the silence soon to come, the peace. At this moment, time seemed to stop. A horrible stench rose up from the crib, like the nastiest diaper-dump the world had ever seen. She couldn’t help but take a step backward, screwing up her face as if she’d just eaten a sour grape, squinting like the sun shone in her eyes. Her stomach revolted and it was all she could do to swallow the bile rising up in her throat. That’s when she felt a presence, a pressure on her chest, and somehow knew she wasn’t alone in this house of horrors. “Pardon me, ma’am,” came a sandy voice from a shadow-locked corner of the bedroom. Spinning on her heels in panic, Jody rasped, “Jesus!” She gagged from the stench she now realized was coming from a misty figure approaching her, a dusty old cowboy wearing a dirty long coat. The look of death was on his face. “Who are you?” “My name is Justin Graves,” he replied. “But you can call me Justice.” Jody stifled a scream and gasped putrid air. “Get out of my house!” With her heart racing wildly, she backed around the bed, now holding the pillow in front of her like a shield. “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Rebecca Sue wailed louder. Justin raised a bony hand over the crib and the crying stopped. Rebecca Sue made lip-sucking sounds like a contented newborn. She was no longer the monster about to be slain. Bewildered, Jody slowly set the pillow on the bed. “How did you do that?” she asked, thinking this awful stranger could easily become her best friend. She would almost be willing to tolerate the smell of him. Almost. Justin simply tipped his cowboy hat, his steel-gray eyes flashing from under the brim. “I can do anything.” “What do you want?” “Tina Marie sent me.” “That’s impossible. She’s dead.” Nodding, Justin replied, “So am I.” Now that Jody could believe—he looked like he’d just crawled out of the ground. She wanted to trust him, if for no other reason than the magical power he held over Rebecca Sue. But when the smelly old man took a step closer, Jody quickly countered his move with a step backward. In the small confines of the bedroom, she knew her escape options were nil. “How do you know of Tina Marie?” “She told me what happened.” “I find that hard to believe.” “Will you believe this?” Justin pulled a red and white rattle from his dusty coat pocket. Jody gasped at the sight of it. “Where did you get that?” “Tina Maria wants you to have this, as a reminder of her.” Rebecca Sue sucked her tongue, which made a faint little noise of approval. With all the courage Jody could muster, she approached Justin and took the rattle from his leathery palm. It suddenly felt as though she held in her hands the Holy Grail. Her body swelled with emotions of guilt and regret, her eyes instantly overflowing with tears that ran down her cheeks. On rubbery legs, she dropped to one knee, cupped a hand over her mouth, and bawled. “I didn’t mean to,” she pleaded to the ghoul. “God, I’m so sorry. I killed Tina Marie. I’m so sorry. Will she ever forgive me? Justice, please tell me...tell me she’ll forgive me.” Just then, Lieutenant Nelson and several officers from the Deckers homicide squad pushed through the bedroom door—recorder running—warrant in hand. “What are you doing here?” Jody cried. “We got a tip, lady.” “JUSTICE! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” “The lab ran some new forensic tests. Cuff her, boys.” “What for?” she shouted. “Child abuse resulting in death,” Lieutenant Nelson told her coldly. Tina Marie’s rattle fell to the floor as the men slapped on the handcuffs. “What about my baby?” Nelson got on the radio. “We need Social Services over here right away.” “No! Don’t take Rebecca Sue from me. I'll be good this time.” Justin stood in front of Jody now, though she could hardly see his ghastly features through her tear-soaked eyes. But she could still smell the ghoul’s rotting flesh. “Why have you done this to me?” “So Tina Maria can forgive you,” he said in a voice like sandpaper. “Now she can cross over and find eternal peace.” “And what do you get from all this, Justice?” The lieutenant scowled. “Quit babbling, lady.” “I feel sympathy for you, Jody,” said Justin, stooping to pick up the rattle. “From the shadows I could see you really tried to control your feelings. You and I have been fighting the same battle. The nature of man is deeply ingrained in us both. Your battle is over. Mine has just begun.” “You’re going to lose, too, Justice.” “Get her out of here,” Nelson barked to his men. “Perhaps,” said Justin. With a gust of wind, the ghoul was gone.
EMAIL IS ALWAYS WELCOME
Next Story Thread story. Billy Denton has come to take something away from Justin. His daughter.
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