The Librarian

Episode 22

Cletus Brown came out when he saw Harriet unlocking the door to Amanda's little cabin and queried her actions.

"I'm sure you heard about her difficulties, Mr. Brown. I'm here to get some clean clothes and personal items for her. She is being held in the hotel until a trial can be arranged."

"Missus and me did hear. Tragic, she seemed such a nice young woman."

"She still is, Mr. Brown, she just has some problems that became too much for her. Hopefully it can all be straightened out and one day she will be back here."

Cletus puffed his cheeks, doubtfully, and just left with a brief wave.

"This is very nice," Aaron said with some surprise.

Harriet explained how Amanda got it, while she collected a small satchel and opened it on the bed. She went to the dresser and opened the top drawer, pausing at the sight of the wooden gun box. Setting it on top, she began sorting through the other items in the drawer.

"Oh . . . this looks like a diary, and there are letters tucked inside." She turned and looked at Aaron as if for permission.

"I know it seems invasive, but it might be the clues you're looking for."

With a sigh, Harriet sat on the bed and opened the small journal. Aaron lit the gas lamp and turned it up so she could read without straining. He leaned against the dresser, remaining silent while she read first the book and then the letters, watching the different emotions play across her face.

"Oh my . . ." Her voice caught, and she coughed to clear her throat. "These entries suggest Amanda was abused as a child . . ." She read on, to herself, expelling little gasps over certain passages. Her hand suddenly flopped down on the bed, letting the diary close.

"Aaron, she killed her father! She writes about his brutality and what he subjected her to as she was growing up. The letters," she picked them up and a single sheet fluttered to the floor, "they are all from him, pleading for forgiveness."

Aaron picked up the sheet and held it toward the light to read: 'I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.'

"That's a quote from Jane Eyre! She borrowed that book a while back. That phrase must have struck home with her. I can see now her avoidance of men and her hostile attitude toward them, the entries in this diary are - are quite graphic."

"So Amanda was assaulted again here in town, although not to that extent, and it what, released all her repressed demons?"

"Yes. I believe it must have pushed her over a line she couldn't re-cross." Harriet picked up the diary again and flipped to the last entry. "She's listed some names here. Yours, the mayor and Wilkes . . . Aaron, I think she meant to shoot you too!"

"The judge, when he gets here, will just have her hanged, Harriet. Nobody's going to listen to any medical explanations. Best case would be one of those institutions they have for crazy people."

"Sick people, Aaron. They're called crazy because we don't understand their sickness. My fear is Amanda will get worse now, being locked up and subject to those very thoughts."

"Let's just get the clothes you wanted up to the hotel and maybe we can have a talk with Doc and the sheriff. They might have some input, or maybe a suggestion as to how to approach the judge when he comes."

****

Morning arrived with a warm breeze and a gentle sun. Gauzy wisps of cloud poised in ever-changing shapes in the weak blue sky. Mayor Proctor, fussed and flustered, hurried about his office, rehearsing his farewell speech to the Governor while Enid patiently held his suit jacket by the door.

"This is my last chance to impress, Enid," he worried, slipping into his jacket and letting her adjust his tie.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Mayor." Her tone reeked of exhaustion.

"Enid, is something wrong, are you alright?"

She stopped in the doorway and stared at him. "Yes, Avery, something is wrong. You. You're wrong. For heaven's sake, stop toadying up to everyone you think you need to help you do your job. You've been mayor here in Tuckerville almost since its beginning. Doesn't that tell you anything about your ability? Just stop begging for appreciation and man up once!"

He stood open-mouthed, watching her march across the road and up the street to the hotel. It was true, the town had grown considerably since his first days as mayor, and with only a few occasional glitches, his management had been successful. He looked about, suddenly flooded with a sense of pride, locked the door and strode purposefully after his secretary.

The repaired stage idled in front of the hotel entrance, the driver silently waiting his single passenger. Governor Mayhew, on crutches and steadied by the hands of the beaming Colleen, stepped out to the stage, shoving the crutches inside and supporting himself on the open door.

"I hope you're not here to try more campaigning, Proctor."

"Not at all, Governor. Just here to wish you a safe journey home and a speedy recovery . . . and to thank you for visiting our town – incidents aside."

"Incidents." Mayhew snorted, looking at the small crowd present to see him off. "Well I will say you have an impressive community here from what I saw, and the accommodation in your fine hotel second to none."

Colleen blushed, hand at her throat.

"Kind of you to say, Governor. Tuckerville is a community to be proud of and will be even more so in the future."

Mayhew humphed, showing a grim smile as he clambered into the stage and pulled the door shut. "About Wilkes—"

"As soon as he's fit to travel we'll see he gets home," Avery said.

"And that woman?"

"She'll appear before the circuit judge when he arrives."

They heard another humph then a shout to the driver to get a move on. "And stay in the middle of the road!"

The crowd waved goodbye and broke into laughter as Dolly's girls hooted and cheered from the front balcony as the stage passed. Enid took the Mayor's arm, sneaked a peck to his cheek and led him back down to his office.

"Well, I'd say we had a new Mayor in town." Sheriff Becker observed, watching the pair cross the road.

"Yes, I'm going to have to do a bit of a rewrite before I publish." Aaron said, wryly.

"You wanted to speak with me about somethin'."

"Yes, you and Doc. It's about Miss Holden. Miss Folio and I had some questions . . ."

"He's inside havin' a bite and that's where I'm headed so if you folks want to talk, it'd be a good time."

"I'll fetch Miss Folio and be right along."

****

Colleen poured coffee strong enough to stand without mugs, for her four customers, leaving them to their conversation.

"Careful drinkin' that without some vittles, son, you won't sleep for a month."

Aaron glanced at the sheriff and pushed the mug aside. "So what do you think, is there another direction we can take for Amanda that might get her help instead of a noose?"

"They have institutions back east," Doc said, "but from what I've heard and read, the psychologists, or alienists as they call some of them, don't do much in the way of helping as they do experimenting."

"That's horrible!" Harriet closed her eyes and sagged in her chair.

"Women don't fare well at all, Miss Folio."

"If Stack is the judge it won't matter none. All he'll ask is did she shoot him, and then say she's guilty. She'd be as good as hung. If it's Chrighton, he'll listen to all sides afore decidin'." Sheriff Becker opined.

The sudden yell from the top of the stairs had them all looking with a startled reaction at Harv the Deputy, waving his arms in a panic.