Chapter 21, Tate gets his due

"We ain't payin' one red cent," a voice from inside the office stated.

"You'll pay for what you've used or you'll leave," Theresa replied.

"I don't think I'll be doin' niether. You people caused this problem, you people can eat it too! You just try makin' me leave!"

Benton heard the conversation loud and clear from outside the parking lot of the hotel as he and Doc. Robinson walked up. The parking lot was full of vehicles, more so than usual and the doors to almost every room were open and angry looking faces glared out at him. Every face was red, every mouth pulled taught in an anger that Benton had not experienced on such a large scale before. Taking a quick leave of Robinson, Benton entered in through the apartment door to the side of the office and walked to the front counter. There, in the small office enclosure stood Robert Mumsford and Willie Banks each crowding the counter. In the corner, grinning like a cheshire cat was Deputy Tate.
"You'll leave right now or I will phone the State Police to move you out!" Theresa shot back.

"You, you bastard," Willie spat on the floor, "this is yor doin', ain't it?"

"Get out, even you Tate!" Benton shouted.

"Oh, I don't think I should be goin', these peopel here need some law an' order about to pertect 'em, I'd be derlict ifn' I jus' took off," Tate replied.

For the first time since the watch committee had convened and discussed carrying revolvers just in case, Benton was glad he had his on.

"I won't tell you again, pack your family up and leave, you won't stay another moment without paying," Benton repeated and tensed his jaw.

"Yor gonna set all these poor folks out, Cap'n? They can't go back home an' all seein' as yor plant done poisoned they's air, you gonna set all them families out?" Tate asked.

"They others paid for the day," Theresa replied. "Mumsford and Banks haven't paid. They will be the ones to leave only unless they do pay."

"You bastards are gonna pay fer what you've done to our valley," Willie spat once again and grinned, "you'uns will be the ones ta' put us up 'cause we ain't payin' nuthin'."

"Once more, pay or leave," Theresa stated as she stared hard at Robert Mumsford.

"I ain't payin'."

"Tate, if you don't do what we pay you to do, then I'll just do it for you," Benton said as he reached into his coat for the revolver tucked uncomfortably on his hip. "Now, pay or leave. Tate, get the hell out of here." Benton held the revolver aloft and his arm shook.

"Now Cap'n, you don't want to be doin' that!" Tate jerked forward in surprise and anger.

"I said, if you aren't going to do what we pay you to do, then get the hell out of my office!" Benton said as he pointed the revolver between Willie and Robert who stood stark still as if frozen.

"Pay or leave, don't make me march you two out the door to collect your stuff in person," Benton said, the shock of his own actions suttering his speach.

"You wouldn't last a moment out there hill topper, you just try it!"

"And you don't want Doc Robins to patch any holes I might put into you if you don't do as I say right now," Benton pointed the buisness end of the revolver directly at Willie this time.

"Pay or leave, do it now."

Willie and Robert scowled at Benton then exchanged glances of defeat. Robert thrust his hand into his pockets and pulled out a wad of bills, counted out twenty four dollars, then roughly slapped the wrinkled bills upon the glass counter. Robert turned and stomped out of the office leaving only Ed Jr. and Willie gawking at Benton.

"You too," Benton waved a quivering hand at both Willie and Ed. Jr. "You can find your way out now as well."

"Bastard," Willie spat on the floor and left leaving Ed. Jr. standing in the corner.

"Well, Cap'n, I s'ppose we got ourselves a situation, don't think the Sheriff will look to kindly on someone holdin' a gun to one o his deputies."

Benton lowered the pistol and returned it to the holster under his suit coat. "Your services are no longer needed Tate," Benton retorted.

"Naw, I s'ppose not, though who would stop me from payin' a soclial visit to one of my own, eh?"

Theresa lurched and she looked hard at Tate who returned her gaze with mild amusement.

"Oh, I think we can get by just fine without you now," Benton replied.

"Oh, I ain't talkin' about you two. I was talkin' about little Billie. She should be what, eleven months now if I reckon correctly."

"What? No, you cannot see my daughter," Theresa blurted out then bit her lip.

"Oh, I think I got ever right to see her an' you know'd it Mrs. Shields," Ed said as he unwrapped a new toothpick and placed it in his mouth.

"Just get out of here Tate," Benton said and looked at Theresa. She was standing stiff and rigid and wouldn't return his gaze. A sick feeling rumbled in Benton's stomach.

"I suppose she ain't in the back there, is she?" Ed. Jr. asked and sucked in his lips. "I suppose I'll have to go to the house if'n I wants a visit with her then."

"What's he talking about, Theresa?" Benton asked crestfallen.

"Nothing Benton, he's just blathering," Theresa replied.

"Oh, I do go on sometimes, but I don't make stuff up if'n that's what ya mean," Ed Jr. grinned and worked the toothpick slowly back and forth in his mouth.

"What about Billie, what buisness do you have with my daughter?" Benton looked at Tate and his expression of contenmpt and mischief was enough to answer.

"Well, Cap, see that's the thing here. By my own reckoning, I b'lieve that she's not yor daughter but mine, ain't that right Mrs. Shields?" Ed said and looked at Theresa.

Theresa looked down at the floor and wrung her fingers into her palms. "Just get out Tate!" Theresa hissed.

Benton looked at his wife as if she had just slapped him for no reason. His mind raced through all the possibilities for Tate's words. He was ribbing Benton as men are often want to do to belittle and brag of thier own sexual prowess. He was mistaken. He was lying and had no idea at all. Yet the frantic need to find some justification and lie were overshadowed by memory. The behaviors of Theresa found new clarity and realization within the confines of the disgusting revelation. Benton knew that regardless of the words and the feeling that no matter how hard he tried he couldn't dissuade his concious mind of thier inaccuracy, Benton needed to defend Theresa's honor.

"Shut up Tate and walk out that door or Sheriff Middlebrook can drag your corpse out, either way you aren't getting out of this unscathed," Benton said with a tone and pacing that surprised even him. As calmly as he said it, he also drew his revolver and without aiming pulled the trigger. The report echoed painful within the small office and rung in Benton's ears long after Tate lay howling upon the floor, blood trickling out the hole in his leg.

"Benton!" Theresa screeched. "What the hell are you thinking!"

"I'm not going to let this piece of shit out of here after what he said! I don't care how true it is," Benton replied amidst a string of howls and cursing from Ed Jr.

Willie Banks ran up to the door and flung it open and Benton trained his revolver upon him.

"You've done it now, hill topper! You ain't gettin' out of this in one piece."

"Don't make me shoot you too! Drag that filth out of my office!"

A crowd of armed valley men gathered behind Willie as he helped the wounded Ed Jr. up off the floor and into the doorway.

"Damnit! Call Middlebrook ... ahh watchit Cap'n. Sumbody shoot that ... aaah I said watchit!"

"Benton, you need to get out of here, you shouldn't have come up in the first place." Theresa continued to avoid his eyes and stood rigid by the counter.

"What if they ...," Benton started to say.

"Get out of here before they all come back in and drag you away!"

Conflicted, Benton stood still another moment, unsure if he should ignore or heed her warning. The crowd of armed men had taken Tate around the corner and the view outside the glass door was clear. Benton figited for his keys in his pockets and looked at Theresa, waiting for her to break her boycott of meeting his eyes but when this failed to produce any reprieve from his forced exile Benton brushed past her and walked around the counter. As he got to the glass door a Stationwagon pulled up to the parking space directly in front of him. It was Jim.

With careworn eyes Jim got out of the drivers side and walked up to the door.

"Jim, what's the matter?" Benton asked. He could see Sally slumped against the passenger side seat and her head in an unnatural position for someone enjoying a ride up to the hill.

"Sal and the kids is sick, or somethin' from the plant accident, I came to see if you had more rooms."

"Yes, we have a few left," Theresa responded in a weary tone. "Room twelve in the center," she added and held out the room key.

Jim stepped past Benton and took the key from Theresa and pulled out a twenty dollar bill and a five. "Keep the remainder," Jim said and paused a moment by the counter. "You know what's going on down there?"

Still at the doorway, Benton turned to face Jim. "No, not that would be harmfull to anyone, though Doc. Robinson says it looks like Mustard Gas poisoning, but none of the chemical compounds needed to make Mustard Gas are present. Mustard gas can be seen and it lays low to the ground, so I don't really know what is happening."

"Mom is dead now too but don't know from what."

"Too? Who else has ...," Benton stopped short as he remembered from earlier. "I'm sorry to hear that Jim, was it from all of this?"

"Don't know, but need to get the Doc to look at the kids an' Sal, maybe the cleaner air up here will do them good, eh?"

Benton felt his gut twisting and the nausia ebbed and flowed with each piece of bad news. When the others, the valley people, where complaining about the accident he had written them off as just being whinners about the smell the venting was giving off or just trying to be pernicious in thier hatred of him and the plant. But with Jim's revelation he began to wonder if he really didn't have something to do with the mysterious illnesses and now possible death. He had been carefull with his calculations and precautions prior to the test and knew that he couldn't have been wrong about anything. Yet it looked clear to him that people close to the plant were becoming ill and it had to do with the accident.

"I should get back down there, perhaps the scrubbers aren't doing their job," Benton said more thinking out loud than to anyone in particular. He turned to Theresa who looked away before thier eyes could meet. With everything else happening, the thought of Theresa's infidelity and the parentage of thier little Billie was something Benton would just as soon not contemplate ever. Benton tried to smile in response, as if the earlier ugliness had never occured and walked outside behind Jim.

The afternoon sun was warm on his face but he niether noticed nor enjoyed it. The noise upon the hill soon brought him back to the reality of today, the apex of everything that possibly can go wrong in a days time. The hotel parking lot and the rooms had become a miniature open community with adults sitting in front of each room chatting and it occured to him that the valley had been brought up to the hill in a brazen show of force, never mind the gun toting valley men who had come to show thier intentions to intimidate and scare anyone with hill topper sensibilities. Then there was the immediate ruckus of Ed Jr. hollering bloody murder and swearing that rocked Benton out of his absent minded complacency. He was indeed in a dangerous spot and in need to flight. As Jim pulled his car out of the space in front of the office, Benton realized he had driven up the hill with George and his car was still at the plant.

Around the corner, where the valley families congregated and the armed mob tried to settle Ed Tate Jr. down lay his only possibility of getting down the hill and to the plant without having to walk the three miles down the road way. Swallowing he rounded the corner and walked to room 12, the room given to Jim and his family. He felt the stares upon him and was unable to miss or ignore the heap of insults and cursing leveled upon his head by Tate. The group of men had him layed out on the ground as Doc Robinson looked at the wound. None of the other deputies where around and none of the armed men appeared to be inclined to take orders from the wounded deputy. That didn't stop them from taking action with thier eyes and Benton saw the hatred in each one.

Jim's car was settled into the parking spot in front of room 12 and the children were out, leaving only Sally. Benton walked up to the passenger side of the station wagon and opened the door. Just then Jim reappeared from the darkened room.

"Need some help?"

"Naw, Sal's a strong girl. I think she just needs to be steadied," Jim responded.

"Jim, why we here? You didn't say we's going to momma's," Sally mumbled.

"We're up the hill Sal, going to take a mini vacation for a spell. C'mon, let's get you inside with the kids."

"Uhm, you think you can give me a lift back to the plant? I can ask Theresa to look in on Sally and the children for a bit," Benton asked.

"What's Tate carryin' on about?"

"I, uh shot him a little while ago."

Jim stopped and balenced Sally with his arm, "You shot him? I'm assuming he deserved it."

"No, I lost my temper when he wouldn't leave the office but shouldn't have done it. With the way these folks are behaving, I've made things worse. But, I also don't want to mess around with the sheriff either."

"I'm sure you just grazed 'im, the way he's hollerin' you must've not shot him too bad, he's got too much breath ta be really hurt."

Benton turned to look at the specticle happening in the middle of the parking lot, "Well, it was stupid to shoot him."

"I can take you down after I get Sal settled in."

"Thanks. But, what if the plant is the cause of all of this? I'm the one most to blame if there was a miscalculation in the safety scrubbers or the chemical mix. I, I'd be the cause of your mother's death."

Jim stopped again in the doorway. "I don't know what happened to mom, with dad gone maybe she gave up, I really haven't had time to process it all yet but I wouldn't blame ya all the same, not my way."

"If it was the plant and the scrubbers or the test we did this morning I'm lost as to what would have caused something like this to happen. The scrubbers are the only thing that I can see aren't working right," Benton said more to himself than to Jim. "Or, something we didn't count on was added to the mix from the accident. Oxygen, dammit! Air was added to the mix from the ruptured pipe! Oh jeeze, oh no, why didn't I realize that hours ago!"

"Well, let's get you down there then," Jim said as he closed the door behind him. The crowd gathered around Tate stared at Jim and Benton as they climbed into Jim's stationwagon. Backing out of the parking lot they passed the group with Doc Robinson kneeled over Tate and dressing his wound. The ugly stares that both recieved revealed the supply of hate and vitriol seething in most of the valley population.

"You sure you're ok leaving your family up here alone, you may be a valley man but you're helping me and that doesn't seem to sit right with them," Benton said.

"They won't do nuthin' to them, there's at least some decorum down there yet. Don't mess with a man's family, hate the man, leave his family alone."

"Save for the Tate's, I don't think they have that ethic."

"No, the Tate's has never had that ethic, but even ole Banks knows when enough is enough," Jim said.

"One of them must hold sway over all those valley men, have them in thier pocket."

"That would be Tate Sr. for sure. But, I will have to say I'm as surprised as anyone of the display an' would like to think it was jus' because of the accident that got them all up here."

"Whatever it was had the support of Middlebrook and Tate Sr. The posse formed awfully quick," Benton said.

"That's never happened before to my reccolection, no precedent fer it in my lifetime. The vally families all look out fer each other, but have never organized anything like this afore. But, things have changed around here enough that it isn't totally surprising. Someone was desperate enough to call them all together."

"Banks' is the only desperate man amoung the valley folk, he's been desperate to have anyone new leave for years, but he aint the type to organize all of this, at least he doesn't seem the type," Benton said as the stationwagon crested the hill and began its plunge into the valley.

"Tate Sr. is behind all of it for sure, jus' don't know what he plans to gain from it. Ole Hubie didn't need an armed posse to bring him in or that he had any real part to play in dad's death."

"My money's on Tate Jr."

"Is that why ya shot him?"

"No, he alluded to being the father of my Billie," Benton replied.

"You believe him?"

"Yes, he raped Hubie's daughter last year in the hotel apartment when she worked for us," Benton bit his lower lip. "If he was capable of that, he is capable of the same with Theresa."

"You think he's tellin' the truth?"

"Theresa acted strangely around him and never said anything to me, but not sure she would have all the same given the truth of it," Benton said.

"Is that why you and George started carying pistols? No one would ever explain why, but I always thought is strange. I can see why now," Jim said.

"It was after that time, yes. We started watching Tate and the other deputies closly, but somehow stuff still happened. Don't know why they or he had it in for Hubie, but this idea that he shot your father is ludicrous." Benton stared out the window and heaved a sigh.

"The valley's always been a tight nit group, y'all arriving ta stir things up a bit I suppose has finally come out in them. Even when we all went off to the war, those that survived came back and resumed our private lives like nothin' had happened."

"We saw it, we saw it at that first meeting in the county school gymnasium, but that it would come to this was nothing we could see." Benton said.

"I suppose they have taken it too far, 'specially ta arrest someone fer somethin' one of them prolly did theyselves. You know whut, you sure you're gonna be safe down there? I'm taken ya direct into the heart of the problem it just occures to me," Jim said and took his eyes off the road to look at Benton.

"Oh, we have respirators, though I think the problem has to be from the ventilators and the scrubbers meant to nuetralize the exhaust from tank four. It's a closed system until it gets to the vents, and what is stranger is we detected nothing when we were cleaning up, no smell, no symptoms, nothing."

"Ok, I'll check in on Theresa when I get back to the hotel."

"Thanks, I don't know how long I'll be here but would appreciate that, and I'll bet Micheal wouldn't mind someone looking in on his kids and Maggie," Benton said as he got out of the passenger side of the stationwagon.

He sniffed the air hoping to find something that would be out of the ordinary but it was just the normal parking lot of the plant smell. The clean up workers had finished their work on the spill and the ground around the pipe and the tank was tinged with the foam used to break the chemical down and ease the removal.

Benton gave Jim a weak wave goodbye and walked into the office rear entrance. The same nervous engergy that electrified everyone when the accident happened still hovered in the air. Donning his coat and safety helmet Benton opened the door to the shop floor. The hum of the machineery reverberated about the cinderblock walls in a now familiar white noise that one ceased to notice after a few moments. Benton stopped at the metal stair bannister that ran paralell with the wall for several feet before descending to the floor. A crowd was gathered around vat four in animated discussion. He wondered if they knew of the illnesses or of the deaths or of the problems on the hill beyond what he, Micheal, and George had witnessed a few hours before. The pressure should have been eased by now with the venting but could the scrubber system be shut down long enough for an inspection of the filters or of the system itself?

Benton made his way down the steps and approached the group gathered around the control station to vat four.

"...pressue hasn't dropped much in the last hour, we're not venting enough of it," Micheal was saying as Benton walked up.

"We've got bigger problems," Benton said. "Something's makin' people sick and killin' livestock. Worse, Jim Hilcock's mother died ealier this afternoon and it isn't known from what." The group of engineers and foremen paused, surprise and shock etching each face.

"The scrubbers?" Charlie Pence asked.

"Don't know, or something that the scrubbers can't handle is being released from the vat," Micheal surmised.

"Can we stop the venting long enough to check the scrubbers out?" Benton asked.

"Amazingly enough, the venting has barely kept up with the buildup of pressure in the vat," William McDonald answered. "I've been watching it the whole time," tapping the needle as if it might be stuck he finished, "hasn't moved much in the last several hours."

"Well, we have to find out if what is venting is still toxic and we need to test the vent and check the scrubbers," Benton said.

"Why don't we shut the vent off and see what the pressure does?" Micheal stated.

William looked at Charlie Pence, his supervisor who inturn looked at Benton.

"Let's give it a try," Benton said.

William walked over to the control release valve connected to the ventilation system and turned the handle that was not much different in shape or function as the common water hose valve found outside any home. A gauge located next to the valve that displayed how open the valve was in cubic milliters slowly registered to zero. William turned and looked expectantly at the group around the control console, ready to turn it back on should one of them quickly motion.

The group at the controls watched the pressure guage, straining to discern any movement towards the red. The needle bobbed for a few ticks then settled where it had been registering before the release valve was shut. Minutes passed and the needle didn't move.

"How long do you think?" Micheal asked.

"It'll take some time for equilibrium in the vat. The reaction has gotten used to the release, take a few more minutes before we'll know if the pressure is going to keep going up," Charlie said and folded his arms about his chest.

"What's the vat rated at?" Benton asked.

"Fifteen atmospheres, about five hundred thousand PSI's."

"And this has been steady at twelve atmospheres the whole time," Benton stated.

"If the gauges are correct," Charlie replied.

"I might have miscalculated the scrubber mix and not accounted for the introduction of oxygen through the burst pipe before we shut down the test. But the only way to find out is to check the scrubbers and test the exhaust," Benton said.

"And that's why people have been getting sick?" Micheal asked.

"Unless something unrelated has been happening, it would be a good summation," Benton replied.

"How 'bout up the hill? How are things there?" William asked, concern tinging his voice.

"The hill seems to be fine," Micheal replied. "At least it was when we were up there."

"The valley families have moved up the hill, most seem to be staying at our hotel," Benton said. Micheal and George had seen the posse and the arrest of Steven Huebner, but hadn't seen what went on at the hotel afterwards. Although shooting Ed Tate Jr. had brought some satisfaction, the bad memory that he wished he could erase from history lingered. But now was not the time to retell it.

"Shall we give it more time?" Micheal pondered.

"We'll know here in a few more minutes if the reaction's going to equilibrate," Charlied replied.

As if something interesting where on the UHF channels for those who could afford a television set each man watched the little oval glass encased guage waiting for it to move one way or the other. It was riveting and each man hoped the needle didn't move or do anything but quiver.

It made Benton's eyes water, the intensity of the stare upon the solitary and immobile object. As minutes ticked away and the gauge needle held steady each man began to visibly relax. Though it was unclear to him why the vat pressure hadn't subsided despite the venting it was at least not climbing in pressure as it had before.

"Bill, keep an eye on the gauge, I think it is probably not going to increase any longer. Let's go check the scrubbers out," Benton said with a nod of approval from Charlie. Hoping to solve the mystery of the illnesses he and Charlie climbed up the service ladder to the cat walk twenty feet above the shop floor.