Chapter 20, Valley of Death

Jim stood outside of the Doctor's office watching the specticle at Huebner's Hardware store. There were arrangements to be made for Howard's funeral and the trip up the hill had been an odd one. The village offered little that Jim ordinarly needed save for the habit of meeting friends at either the Happy Valley Grocery or at Huebner's store to jaw and pass the time. The shops and diners were things he never used save for Applewood's shop when occasion warrented an expert look into a tractor problem. A trip to the Doc. Robinson's office was always one of tension and discomfort and today's trip more so. Now that the unpleasant errand was complete, Jim wondered if the whole world had finally realized it was in need of a do-over.

Jim watched as the group of armed farmers, men whom he knew to be hard working and dedicated to the arduous task of growing and feeding and selling crops milled about the front of Huebner's store. They looked comical, men in overalls and work jackets brandishing hunting rifles and shotguns as if a fox hunt where in the offing. There was one element missing to that: they weren't relaxed and jovial as all men become when they gather before a spot of fun. They were silent or appeared to be from his vantage point and deadly serious to their task of guarding the entrance to the store. It was a singular instance of absurdity to Jim, valley men atop the hill as if to invade it. What was more, every valley family was represented in the crowd. Fathers and sons, borhters and nephews of each farmstead in the valley. All of the valley men seemed to be up on the hill at once and part of this mob of armed men. That is save for the Hilcock family. If Jim had a guess to give, he would finger Ed Tate Sr. for this display of valley power and might.

As the road was being blocked going both ways and traffic was begining to back up along State15, Jim decided that curiosity was going to have to be satisfied before he returned to his own farmstead. For the first time in a long time, almost five years by his sudden recollection was he able to cross Happy Valley Road, of late State15 without haveing to look both ways at traffic.

Jim quickly recognized both Robert and Willie in the army of the valley and he noted that Willie merely eyed him suspiciously when he approached.

"Fox hunt?" Jim asked.

"You could say that," Willie replied.

"Sorta," Robert replied. "Sheriff's formed a posse ta git ole Hubie ta surrender peaceful like. They says he's the one what shot Howard."

"Seems unlikely, Hubie had no beef with Pa," Jim replied. He watched Willie closely as Willie had always been the leader of Robert since they were younger. Robert wasn't a typical follower or lackey, but typically followed Willie's lead.

"Sheriff an' Tate Jr. agree that Hubie's the best culprit, so we's here ta make sure he don't leave," Willie said and spat.

"Why the army? It's not like he's like to be trouble or nuthin'."

"Wut Middlebrook wanted, so's we showed up to lend a hand," Willie replied.

"Haint been a murder here fer as long as I can remember," Robert said. "Seems the precaution to take, besides, we's finally gonna take back what's ..." Robert cut short after Willie nudged him.

Robert laughed then noted that neither Robert or Willie were in a joking mood. "I see's. Did ole Ed Tate Sr. put y'all up to this?"

"Dun know what yer talkin' 'bout," Willie replied. "Sheriff Middlebrook organized this."

"Uh huh," Jim said and eyed both Robert and Willie. Robert turned silent and evaded Jim's eyes and figited.

"Well, we aint bein' paid ta jaw with ya, Jim, so's we'd better get back ta our duty," Willie said as if to end the inquiry.

"Looks ta me likes you doin' yer duty right fine if it's just to stand thar an' look mean, and paid fer it ta boot," Jim stated. Robert looked askance at Willie as if waiting for him to do or say something then looked back down at the ground. He was doing a poor job at hiding his emberassment.

"Jim, why dun you go about yer buisness an' let us attend ta ours?" Willie growled.

"Ok, I'll leave ya to yer posse duties," Jim said and walked back to his car at Doc Robinson's office. Robert had let on too much to not make it clear what was happening. The three of them had known Steven Huebner for the last three years and had spent as much time drinking his coffee and bending his ear as they had working thier own fields when the long winter months left them little else to occupy themsleves with. That Willie and Robert would be so willing to participate in what had to be a ruse or a lie troubled Jim. He understood why Willie stopped coming by after awhile. Steven was a hill topper and Willie's hatred for everyone on the hill was no secret. But Robert and the rest of the valley men seeming to participate without qualm or question didn't sit right.

As Jim made it back to his car he heard a commotion from the crowd and turned to see Steven Huebner being led out of the front door and through the crowd. He looked dejected and lost and the sight of what was happening filled Jim with remorse. He and his father had lived in the valley just as long as many of the other farmsteads but always managed to remain apart from the games that often drove valley life. Howard's father had been alone in recieving his voucher tickets during the big valley bonfire made at the post office and the defrauding of the banks in Charleston. Was it for this purpose that his father had been shot? He had been friendly with the newcomers but not overly nor had they really taken he or his father into their confidences either. Like a pariah, they had been treated aloof by both sides.

Jim didn't share Willie's distrust of the changes around them and now it would seem that many more than just Willie also shared in the distrust that now threatened to spill over into overt action upon that distrust. As Jim stood waiting by his car for the backup of cars to finally free themselves of the log jam, Doctor Robinson walked up to him.

"What's going on?"

"They've arrested Hubie fer shootin' Howard."

"That seems a little strange, did they say why he did it?"

"Naw, an' I don't think he really did it, but they's takin' him in anyhow."

"Seems to be a busy day here, I'm getting calls from the valley and from the hotel of people sick, somthing to do with the chemical plant accident I suppose. I'm going over to the hotel to see a few people before heading down to the valley. I've heard it's killing livestock as well."

"Oh? I haven't been down there for a while I suppose," Jim answerd.

"As a matter of fact, I'm going to check on Robert's family right now over at the hotel, his wife just called, said thier little girl can hardly breath, but gosh if I know what to do for her if I don't know what is going on down there," Robinson said and shrugged.

"I was there earlier, at the plant. Some chemical spill, smelled purty bad but didn' seem to be dangerous," Jim replied.

"Well, something is going on with folks from the valley and it doesn't sound too good. I'd better get over there, I've stocked up on anelgesic. I've already sent a few people packing for Charleston as they were too sick for me to do much for them. Whatever has gone on, I'd like to know what happened down there, I feel lost in trying to do much with what I've seen so far."

"You mean nobody's contacted you yet from the plant?" Jim asked.

"No, but if they have I've been out like right now."

"I'm headed back home, I'll drop by there an' find out or at least tell 'em ta get you in on the skinny. If it's killin' livestock, then it seems somethin' more than what I saw there earlier is goin' on." Jim said as the road blocks lifted and the cars lined up the road began to slowly move once again.

As the crowd of armed men dispersed across the road, Jim spied George, Benton, and MIcheal standing by thier car just down from the stop light. If anyone would be the ones to communicate with about the medical dangers and find out what else might be happening, it was these three. Jim strode back across the street with quick and long steps to catch up with the three men as they began to get into thier car.

"Mr. Pembrook, Mr. Shields!" Jim called as he jogged the remaining feet to thier car.

"Hello Jim," Benton replied.

"Did you fellers know that peoples is gettin' sick in the area farms?" Jim asked as he caught his breath.

"Sick? From what?" George asked.

"Sick from the accident I s'ppose, Doc. Robinson's been gettin' calls all morning from folks in the valley an' many of them is checked into the hotel now. Also heard that live stock is dyin," Jim replied. Willie Banks and Robert Mumsford brushed passed Jim and Jim caught a confused stare from Robert, but Willie glowered and spat, the chaw juice just missing Jim's toe.

"Course they know'd whut's goin' on! Why do ya think they's up here also, they's death trap down thar no longer habitable fer thems neither," Willie said as they past the group.

"What? We're up here to prevent the likes of you from taking advantage of the situation," George replied.

"Whatch yerself Jim, you may have lost yer daddy this mornin' but that won't keep you from catchin' it with the rest of them," Willie whispered to Jim then he and Robert continued on.

"Wait, what about people getting sick?" Benton asked. "There shouldn't be any danger at all, just the annoying odor."

"Dun' know, but the Doc.'s been busy with folks from all around the plant 'an was headed to the motel. He'd like to know what is up so he can treat folks properly."

"Maybe we'd better check out the scrubbers on vat four, we've been venting it for sometime now," Micheal added.

As if a cartoon lightbulb lit above Benton's head, his eyes widened and his expression fell.

"Uhm, well I don't want to alarm anyone until we go look at it, but if there is something wrong with the mix in the scrubbers, then we're venting gas from that vat that could be lethal in the right dosage. But, that would be in an enclosed area.," Benton said.

"Well, maybe Micheal and I ought to go back and you go find the Robinson so you can tell him what he might be dealing with," George said.

It started to make sense to Jim now, the actions of the mob, the rash of illnesses, and Willie's vield threat. Hearing the three men chat almost nonchallantly with terms that meant little to Jim but seemed to fill in the gaps that something was really wrong down at the plant made him realize too that his own family was not far away from the epicenter of all of the problems.

"I'd better get down there then, back home and see to my family," Jim said and parted company from the group. If people were getting sick, what was happening at his own home?

Angry faces clustered about the Diner and the hardware store and up and down the street watched Jim as he made his way back to Doc. Robinson's office. He felt the stares even if he could no longer see them and they burnt a hole in his head. The sheriff's deputies where still loitering around Hubie's storefront and though they simply stood around and chatted, they added an officialness to the intimidating presence of so many armed valley men. Jim felt niether the need nor the desire to choose sides, he was just a valley man who cared little for either progress or stagnation. He could not escape for long the call of falling off of one side of the fence or the other. Jim pulled back on to State15 and drove slowly back down the road to the stop light. Passing the hotel he saw Robinson and Benton Shields conversing outside of the hotel office.

The parking lot to Middlebrooks grocery was full, something of an odd appearance even for how busy Happy Valley Road became when it morphed on the maps to State15. One pickup truck after another lined the small but adequate parking in front of the grocery. The Post Office lot was also full, again with Pickups. With the sheriff and his deputies all solidly valley men it wasn't too hard to figure that this was the rallying point for the gun toting mob. Three years had brought change to the scenery along the road side and many more people than had ever before frequented this spot on the hill. Yet for all of its change and new faces and problems, there was one thing that had remained the same. The valley folk wished thier lives to be as they had always been. As Jim pulled through the stop light and then past the houses before taking the plunge down the hill he felt the pang of trouble and strife beyond anything he had experienced in his years in the valley. Even the years spent in the service had not brought such gut troubled feelings.

Had he not known that something was amiss, the view of the ripening wheat and corn along the roadside and the cluster of trees by the river bridge would not have caused him to fear. Everything was as it always had been. Barbed wire fences lining the road, rows of crops swaying in the breeze, and the welcomed shade of the trees along the creek. But for the hill top, this could have been a day as any day was five years ago. Rounding the corner after the bridge revealed for the first time the one icon of the change that had befallen the valley and the valley men who now seemed intent upon forcing a halt to the rampant progress wrought by the Petro-Chem plant. The back lot was still a buzz with activity as men in thier protective suits still labored to clean up the spill. Now, however, everyone outside wore a respirator and a protective suit.

Jim sniffed the air. It smelled no different than it always had since the plant begain operations. There was always something of a tinge to the odor, a pungent and metalic odor and he noted that nothing really was different. His farm, not too far from Howards plot was something that lay nestled a little further from State15, a mile or so as the crow flies from the turn off to his father's place and the road. There was little work to be done in this season, the crops had been planted and the care had been paid to the nurturing of the buds that would translate into another year of paying off the debts to the banks and the providing for the family needs out of the excess. The fields were quiet, empty.

As Jim pulled up to his farm house he noted that even with the children home today from school it was quiet and still. Jim sniffed the air once again. No change and barely an odor of the normal plant emissions. Thier farm house sat astride a common dirt road, a path barely wide enough to accomodate two trucks coming and going that had not even been graced with a name. It was just a trail leading to several farm steads and from the front of the house, one could view the barest outline of the Tate's farm house poking above the green fields of corn. Behind thier house and not far from the Happy Valley Road sat Howard's farm house and place of Jim's beginnings of life. Even further to the West could be seen the stacks of the chemical plant.

It was normally silent out here, the noise of State15 lost in the rows of crops and distance so that one could breath and be heard, the wind through the crops that rustled thousands of leaves together produced a constant white noise that would eventually drive one to slumber if one tarried too long upon the front porch on a warm spring day. But the house was always a source of noise and distraction as Sally rattled round in the kitchen cooking or cleaning up from a meal and the children if not banished out the outter environs would be fighting or loudly playing upstairs. This noise always made the walk up the short gated path to the front porch a reminder of the life that Jim had created for himself and the satisfaciton of a house full of life. It was silent this aftertoon and that bothered him.

Taking the front steps in two easy and long strides, Jim entered through the screen door and stood in a darkened recieving room. Silence fell from the living room and the kitchen area just beyond. It was late afternoon and Sally would normally be preparing the evening meal of pies or roast or beef. Above his head, where the children's rooms were, there needed to be the scuffling of shoes upon the wood flooring and the laughter of adolescence. It was too much like a trip to Sally's folks home in nearby Cartersville for an overnight with the kids. Jim hated those trips for it left the large house hollow and void. Jim searched his memory for just such a trip but there was no memory of one having been planned.

"Sal?" Jim called. "Mom, Kids?"

Jim's voice echoed painfully off the walls and the silence once again conquered. With the lower rooms silent and still, Jim headed for the stairwell, a winding affair that the kids loved to run down and bounce off of each and every retaining wall like pin-balls. He took each step slowly, straining beyond the creaking of the wood to hear anything from up the top of the stairs. The wooden floors betrayed even the most quiet of approaches and but for anyone not moving around, it was impossible to be up stairs without making any sound.

Jim stood at the end of the hallway and strained to hear anything, something to prompt him to keep going. The doors to the bedrooms stood open and the hall was dark save for the light let in by each bedroom door. Waves of dizziness washed over Jim as the eerieness of the scene registered each grotesque possibility. His courage fitfully gathered, Jim walked down the hall and stopped at the first room, that of Roy, the oldest. His room was quiet save for the ryhthmic breathing coming from the lump under the covers of the bed. He was asleep or resting or something else that Jim wondered why he was even in his bed at this hour. His cheeks were flushed pink and he moaned softly as he turned over and away from Jim.

Alarmed, Jim went from room to room finding his children in a semi-conscious state as if from a hard day of playing. In his own bedroom where Sally and his mother on the bed, Sally was breathing much like Roy had been, short and shallow draughts of breath. His mother was still. Like a flash of ligthting that brightens the darkened sky for a moment then peals with thunder Jim felt his heart leap in the same fright that those thunderstorms used to cause in him, that those sudden and deadly artilery barrages used to disrupt all activity save for the essential activity of self preservation, and like he had felt not too long before when he first spied his father slumped over the tractor. Like wounded filling thier medical beds with the dying or suffering body unable to cope longer with the war his family all lay in fevers upon thier would be peacetime beds.

Jim approached the side of the bed where his mother lay and reached a trembling hand out to touch her arm. Her wrinkled face was sunken in as gravity pulled the features worn with the years back upon themselves. She looked peacefull but unsetteld, her mouth slightly open. The eyelids, thinned through the years, were paled a bluish tint. They were lids that Jim seldom saw closed, always revealing the sparkling orbes of the eyes that always danced with joy at the sight of her grandchildren or with satisfaction at the sight of himself.

He touched her arm after what seemed a long time of traveling to the spot beside the bed and the reaching out in fearfullness at what might be revealed. Cold. Cold was that arm, that patch of skin that his fingers finally rested upon and as if they burned in sudden recognition of touching a hot pot on the stove so did he retract his fingers quick in reaction. Without needing to check for a pulse or to autopsy for the cause, Jim knew it was what was felling everyone in the valley. He also wondered if Howard's death that morning made any lingering to life that much more impossible to bear for her. The trembling in his gut became a spasm and collapsed by the side of the bed.

"Honey," a raspy and soft voice whispered.

Jim bolted upright in surprise. Sally sat resting upon one arm, her face puffy and red and her eyes watery. Her arm quivered as she tried to maintain her balence to look at him from across his mother's form. Jim got up and rushed over to Sally's side and laid her back down on the pillow.

"Sweets, what's happened?" he asked though he knew what was going on.

"Don't know," she rasped. "Started gettin' hard to breath, kids got feverish, mom got ill, don't know why."

"Sal, why didn't you get everybody out of here, you know, up the hill?" Jim said as he brushed his hand across her reddened cheek.

"It all happend fast, we just all needed to rest, especially your mother," Sally wheezed a few times then closed her eyes.

"Mom's dead Sal," Jim said and caressed her forehead.

"What?" Sally said and jerked herself up from the pillow to look at the still form beside her.

"Mom!" Sally rasped and shook the body.

"C'mon, we need to get everyone out of here," Jim said as he stood and tugged on Sally's arm. "But, your mother."

"She's already gone, Sal. We need to get you and the kids up the hill, now."

"We can't leave your mother, Jim. I've got things to do around here, we can't go on vacation and leave your mother all alone."

"C'mon Sal, we'se gettin' up the hill an' out of here. You get ready and I'll bundle the kids into the car." Jim said as he lead Sally into the closet. "Pack some things for yourself and meet me in the car."

"But where are we ..."

"Sal, get some clothes together and get down to the car, please." Jim said with a firm but gentle squeeze of Sally's arm.

"But where ..."

Jim strode out of the room and collected Susan from her bed. She moaned and tried to turn over in his arms. Like the others, her face and cheeks were red and when she finally opened her eyes to him, they were watery and bloodshot. Each child was bundled up in a blanket and lay across the backseat of the thier stationwagon with only Sally left to be accounted for. It was silent in the house, just as it had been when he first arrived home. Jim took the stairs two at a time and was back up the hall in several loud stomps.

"Sal!" Jim called from the landing. "Sal, we have to go!" Hearing no response or any sign that Sally was even still in the house, Jim walked the few paces down the hallway and stood in the doorway of thier room. Sally was standing in the closet exactly where Jim had left her ten minutes before.

"Sal!" Jim said as he touched her arm.

"Dear?" Sally said as she turned slowly to him.

"We are going somewhere, grab some clothes so we can go," Jim replied.

"But I don't want to leave, I have a roast to make for your dinner."

Jim let go of her arm and grabbed a few things out of the closet of which he knew Sally wouldn't like once she regained her right mind. Stuffing what he thought would be needed for several days into a suitcase, he then led Sally by the arm out of the house. The air outside burned the skin on the inside of Jim's nose, something he hadn't noticed earlier. His nose itched and twitched in response to the unwanted sensation and he hurried his steps to the waiting car.