The Scapegoat

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ONE

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Laura had a question. She had a question that she didn't want to ask because it was one of those questions that made it sound like you were asking something that you shouldn't, and so she didn't - ask the question that was.

And it was drivin' her just plain crazy!

It was an important kind of question, something that really really mattered. Something that mattered so much that the answer could change just about everything she knew…or believed…or both.

But she didn't dare ask it.

Ma would skin her.

Pa would give her that 'look'.

And the Reverend Alden? Well, he might just tell her she was goin' to Hell.

Nope. She wasn't gonna ask it.

But it was gonna drive her crazy.

"Laura, is something wrong?"

The little brown-haired girl had her nose pressed up against the loft window. It was a cold, wet April evening. The flowers that had punched their way up through the soil and bloomed in late March were all dead now.

Dead.

Dead like….

"Laura!"

With a sigh, she turned to look at her sister Mary who was standing behind her with her hands on her hips. Gosh, she looked like Ma!

"What?" she shouted back.

"You've been sitting there with your nose pressed up against that glass for hours." Mary peeked over her shoulder. "Do you see something out there I don't see?"

"It hasn't been hours," she sighed.

"Supper's ready."

Laura wrinkled her nose. It did feel kind of..stiff.

"Well, maybe it's been an hour." At her sister's look, she added, "Or maybe a little more…."

"I know you, Laura Ingalls. Something's bothering you. Why don't you tell me what it is?"

Why didn't she? Maybe she could tell Mary, or ask her, or….

Nope.

Mary would go to Ma and Ma would go to the Reverend and there she'd be goin' back to Hell.

The little brown-haired girl shrugged. "Maybe I am. But even if I am, it's not your business - Mary Ingalls - it's mine."

Mary shrugged. "Suit yourself, but you better come off of that cloud you're on before Pa gets home."

That got her interest.

"Why?"

Mary moved in a little closer and lowered her voice. "I don't know what it is, but Ma said 'Your father is going to be fit to be tied when he gets home'."

That wasn't good.

"Did she say why?"

Mary shook her head. "No. I think it has something to do with money."

When didn't it have to do with money?

"We ain't got any, so how can it have to do with it?"

Mary shook her head. "It's 'haven't', not ain't. Really, Laura…"

"…were you born in a barn?" she finished for her, and then went on, "No, I wasn't. I just happen to like to say 'ain't'. Mr. Edwards says it and Pa sometimes!"

"Pa just says it because Ma doesn't like it," her sister sighed. "That's how people who love each other are."

Laura frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You'll understand it when you're older."

"Why does everyone always say that?" she protested.

"Because it's true. Now, come on. Ma wants us to help set the table. Pa's due anytime." Her sister took hold of her arm and began to tug her toward the loft ladder. "Ma wants Pa's belly full before she talks to him."

It was true. It was harder for Pa to get mad on a full stomach.

It didn't make sense, but it was true.

Maybe all that weight made him 'un-fit' to be tied.

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Supper was awful quiet. Pa was in one of those moods he had. The kind where he didn't want to say the wrong thing in front of them, so he just didn't say anything. Usually Pa was laughin' and smiling when he came home from the mill. He'd pull her pigtails and ask her how she was doing, pick Carrie up and swing her in the air, and then give Mary a big old hug before kissin' Ma on the lips.

Today he slammed the door behind him, lit a pipe, and sat down in the hearth chair and stared at the fire 'til Ma said supper was ready. Pa was outside now talkin' to Mister Edwards who had come by just as they finished eating. Pa had a funny look on his face when he stepped out the door. Ma kept them busy cleaning up so they couldn't eavesdrop, but she kept looking at the door just like they did tryin' to figure out what was going on. Finally, when they were done, she shooed them up the ladder to do their homework and say their prayers. They did that, but they did it quick and now the two of them were hanging out the window - well, not really - but were pressed up so close to it that they might as well have been.

They was droppin' those eaves at last.

Mary had to protest, of course, sayin' they were breaking the rules by listening in, that Ma said they shouldn't, blah…blah…blah…. But that's because Mary was oldest and she had to act like an adult just to prove she almost was one.

Anyhow, she was shoulder-to-shoulder with her now.

"Can you hear them?" Mary asked.

"Kind of," she whispered back. "I wish they'd move closer."

Pa and Mister Edwards had stopped and were standing just past the sitting stump, but not quite halfway to the barn. It was hard to see them 'cause it was getting dark, but Laura could hear them, so she knew they were there. The wind was blowin' in the direction of the house, carrying the two men's words on it, so she knew as well - in spite of what Mary said - that it was all right to listen.

God was with them.

"I don't know, Charles. Seems…me you should speak up," Mister Edwards said.

"…good would it do?"

"I'm thinkin'…need to hear the truth."

"I told…the truth!" Pa snapped. "No one….listen!"

"Pa sure is mad," Mary said in her ear.

Laura nodded.

"Hey! …on your side!" the mountain man responded.

Inching out, Laura tried to find her pa in the growing darkness. He was standing with his hands in his pants pockets. His shoulders were slumped.

He hardly looked like Pa.

"I know. I'm sorry," Pa said as he moved toward the sitting stump and sat down. "I know you want to help, Isaiah, but there's nothin' you can do. The town's already crucified me."

Laura sucked in air.

"What's wrong?"Mary asked.

The little brown-haired girl shook her head. She didn't want to miss a word.

"Charles, you got friends - lots of friends - just like me that know better." Mister Edwards had come closer too. "Callahan is usin' you as a scapegoat so he don't lose his business."

Pa said nothing for a few seconds. He sounded tired when he spoke. "Time will tell, I guess."

"Time and the truth, Charles."

That was Ma. She'd just stepped out of the house. Ma walked over to Pa and put her arm around his shoulders. "Our God is the God of truth. He will see us through."

Laura pulled back and out of the window. Ma had sharper eyes in the dark than Pa and she didn't want to be seen. She went to the bed and sat down. A second later Mary followed her.

"What do you think it's all about?" her sister asked as she sat beside her.

"Ma said 'us'." Laura frowned. "You'd think if it's an 'us' thing that they'd tell us about it."

"Maybe they think we're too young to understand," Mary said.

"They always think that!"

Mary thought a moment longer and then shrugged. "Oh, well. Ma and Pa are smart. They know what they're doing. If we need to know, they'll tell us in time."

Mary was like that. She could just let a thing go.

But she wasn't Mary.