A/N1: Head 'em up! Move 'em out!

Heaven and Hell

Book Two:

The Hells Are Everywhere

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

More's the Pity

Thursday, October 8, 1885
Idaho Falls

Part One: Morning

As Chuck trudged toward the schoolhouse the next morning, shaky from lack of sleep, he stopped off at Devon's office.

He knocked softly. Ellie opened the door. It was obvious she had spent the night with the patient, as had the patient's mother, Mirabelle Constance. Both looked exhausted.

Chuck had a plate of fresh biscuits in on hand, covered with a white cloth. Steam was rising through cloth; Mrs. Fitzsimmons had taken them from the oven and put them on the plate just as Chuck left. Ellie inhaled and gave Chuck a weary smile, her green eyes puffy from lack of sleep. She took the plate and offered it to Mirabelle. She lifted the cloth and the steam rose more thickly. She grabbed one and took a bite. Chuck reached into his pocket to extract a small jar of strawberry preserves. He handed them to Mirabelle, his hand shaking and his eyes watering. She gave him a wan smile and took the preserves. She put the plate down on one of the tables in the office. Ellie sat down with her and they started to eat.

There was a knock on the door and Chuck opened it. Carina was standing there in a dress, a modest one, with an urn in her hand. The smell of hot coffee mixed with the steam of the biscuits.

"Thanks, Carina."

"No problem," she said, crossing to the table and putting the urn down. Zondra came through the door a moment later with a tray of cups. She poured coffee for everyone. Devon had come downstairs, buttoning the final button on his vest. He looked at Ellie and smiled - but there was a question in his eyes.

"No change," Ellie said in answer.

"We heard about this late last night. Mrs. Constance, we're really sorry. Let us know if we can help." Zondra stood beside Carina as Carina spoke. Mirabelle looked at the two women for a moment, then she nodded her thanks, and took a handkerchief from her sleeve to wipe at her eyes.

"Thanks so much. Thanks."

Devon went right to Johnny. Chuck joined him. The bruising had gotten darker during the night but otherwise little had changed. Chuck whispered to Devon. "Who knows about the note? Is it still just us?"

Devon glanced around the room. The women were gathered around the table, eating and talking softly. "Yes. You, Ellie and me. I found it in Johnny's shirt pocket and I don't think Sheriff Constance knew it was there. You didn't mention it to Mrs. Fitzsimmons?"

"No, she was asleep when I got back but I don't think I would have said anything anyway. You haven't told Mirabelle?"

"No. Her son's attempted suicide is enough, for now, I think. But we will have to tell the sheriff today."

"I agree. I will. How is Johnny?"

Devon shrugged. "Beyond my medical science. He might wake up, he might not. He might wake up...damaged. He might not. Sorry, I can't provide answers, Chuck. I spent the night combing through books as Ellie watched over him. No luck though," Devon glanced at Ellie. "But I was lucky when your sister came to town and when she took this job. She's...she's a beauty, obviously, but she has a first-rate mind. I never have to explain more than once, and usually, I don't have to explain completely. She takes what I say and intuits the rest…"

Chuck nodded once. "I went through Harvard and she basically took every class I did, although she got no credit for it. I was the student I was because of my brilliant sister's help."

Devon allowed himself a small smile. "I'm sort of afraid of her, Chuck. I think I...well, now's not the time, I guess. Too soon and too much going on..."

Chuck gave Devon a knowing smile. "Don't wait too long. She's not timid."

"No, that she isn't."

"So, will you talk to Mark or will I?"

Devon was about to answer when there was yet another soft knock on the door. Chuck motioned for the women to stay seated and answered it. It was Diane Beckman, her husband, Bernard, and a man Chuck did not know.

The three entered quietly. Diane spoke softly in Mirabelle's ear, then joined Chuck and Devon near Johnny's cot. She looked down at the boy with soft eyes. Bernard joined her and took her hand. The third man hung back, looking lost and uncomfortable and incongruous in his expensive suit.

"I heard he was here. Sheriff Constance told me. We wanted to check on him."

Bernard, rail-thin and tall, nodded. "I hate this. I like the boy. Any chance it was foul play?"

Devon shook his head. "It's possible, of course, but unlikely. There's no sign of any struggle. Sheriff Constance went out to the place Johnny was found after bringing him to me. He saw no sign of anyone else there, although the men who cut him down had tramped around…"

"Who found him?" Bernard asked the question.

Devon shook his head again. "Don't know the names. A couple of saddle tramps, the sheriff said. Happened to be in the right place at the right time."

Diane broke in. "Are they still in Idaho Falls? The sheriff told us none of this when we saw him a few minutes ago, but we did not press him, seeing as how Johnny is his nephew."

"He told me the two men were going to spend the night at The Bar None."

The man in an expensive suit cleared his throat. "I believe they did. I saw them come in late and arrange a room with Anna Wu"

Diane turned to the man. "You got back in town yesterday, Roan?"

He took a second. "Yes, but it was late and I did not want to disturb folks making my return known."

"I knew when you left for San Francisco, you'd have a hard time coming back." Diane smiled at Roan. Bernard frowned at the smile, although he hid his frown from her by reaching up to rub his chin.

Roan smiled back - a large, charming smile - and a taunt. "I did very nearly stay. San Francisco is a city of delights."

Diane smile bowed down. "I can imagine," she offered curtly, turning back to Bernard, who stood, looking at Johnny, as if he had missed the exchange.

"Chuck," Diane said, still speaking curtly but then softening her tone, "Bernard believes we should cancel school today. Can you put up a sign? Once word of this gets around, and it will be around before much longer, who knows what will happen."

"Okay," Chuck said, "I'll go and do it in a minute."

Diane nodded, then so did Bernard.

Carina and Zondra got up and left. Ellie walked with them to the door and closed it behind them. Diane crossed back to Mirabelle and hugged her, then she left, Bernard beside her, Roan behind her.

Chuck went to Mirabelle. She stood and hugged him. Then Chuck hugged Ellie. "You need some sleep, Ellie."

"I know. I just wanted to make sure Devon got a little. I'll head to Mrs. Fitzsimmons' soon."

Chuck left and walked to the schoolhouse. He took his watch out. It was still early, too early for any students. He climbed the steps quickly and unlocked the red doors. He entered. As he headed toward the front, he looked to Johnny's empty seat and sighed.

When he got to his desk, he noticed that one of the drawers was not neatly closed. At the end of each day, Chuck, always particular about orderliness, made sure all the drawers were completely shut. He opened the one that was not quite shut. In it was the ledger in which Chuck kept attendance. With a sinking feeling, he opened the ledger. All seemed in order until he turned to the final page. It had been torn out and he recognized the ragged edge. The missing page was the page with Johnny's note. Chuck closed the ledger and put it down on the desktop.

He looked around the room. On the pegs back near the red doors was a vest. Chuck stepped down and walked to it quickly. He knew it as he drew near. It was Johnny's. He took it off the peg and folded it over his arm. As he did, he noticed a stiffness in the interior pocket. He held up the vest with one hand and reached into the pocket with the other. A folded sheet of paper was there. He took it out. It smelled faintly of perfume. Chuck unfolded it and the odor of the perfume became slightly stronger. Inside were a few words:

Johnny,

Meet me at our place.
We need to talk.

Ida

Chuck slipped the note back into the vest pocket. He looked up to see Ruth Justus standing in the doorway. She seemed focused on Chuck, not the vest. Chuck hung it back on the peg.

"Hi, Ruth. I was just about to put up a sign. School is canceled today. There's been an...accident and Johnny Constance is seriously hurt."

Ruth's expression saddened. But then she looked at Chuck. "Well, Mr. Bartowski, since I am here, is there anything I can do?"

Chuck looked around. "If you want to wash the board, that would be good. I'm going to sweep since the schoolhouse is empty." He glanced at the vest but left it hanging. He opened a side door and grabbed the rude broom.

Ruth smiled at him and took the bucket from the side room. She went to get water and Chuck started sweeping, trying to decide what to do. He needed to give the vest - and the note - to the sheriff. But it was going to make the situation worse. He studied the problem as he swept. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.

Ruth came back in with the bucket partially full. She went to the board and took up the rag on the tray beneath it. Chuck stopped sweeping for a moment, looking at her but not watching her. He was thinking. She looked over her shoulder and saw him; she smiled shyly, wet the rag in the bucket, and started washing the board.

Chuck started sweeping again. He went to get the dustpan and swept the collected dirt into it. He went out, down the steps, to dump it.

Carina was standing across the street, watching him. After a moment of decision, she strode across the street purposefully. She stopped when she got near Chuck.

"Boston, you really are a handful."

"What do you mean?"

"You need to be careful. I can't watch you around the clock, as much as I might like to have the night shift."

Chuck blushed. "What are you talking about, Carina?"

"That Justus girl, Chuck, she's been following you around like a moony calf for days. It is not a good idea for you to be in the schoolhouse alone with her."

Chuck was lost. "Huh?"

"That girl's in love with her teacher, Mr. Bartowski."

"Her teacher? Who? Oh." Chuck furrowed his brow. "Really?"

"I've seen that look on...other faces in town, Boston. I've seen it on the face of Daniel Shaw fiancée when she came to your room and when he's not looking, and I have seen it...in the shop windows on the street."

Chuck looked down the main street. "Who? Lou?"

"No, you lanky dummy, in reflections in the windows."

It took Chuck a few seconds to do the math. "Oh. Carina…"

Carina looked around, nervously. It was a strange sight, nerves on her. "Yeah, um, well, all's fair...and all that. You pay your money, you take your chances. I'm a big girl. I'm a big girl, Chuck, and in all the right places, just in case you haven't noticed." She paused; Chuck gulped. "But the Justus girl isn't a big girl. This is probably her first time. She may not even quite realize it. But she could be big trouble for you even if she isn't a big girl…"

Carina paused. Chuck thought about Ida Reynolds' note in Johnny's vest. "You need to know what's going on - and frankly, you need to nip it in the bud. If her mother figures this out, she will blame you, accuse you. Her little girl would have to be lead astray and who would have led her but...you?"

"What should I do, Carina?"

"Tell her. Tell her you are spoken for. If you have to, tell her it's me. It won't be good for you, but it will be better than what might happen, especially if...if what I think happened with that boy at the Doc's is what happened."

"What do you think happened?"

Carina frowned deeply. "C' mon, Chuck. I'm a big girl. I've seen the boy around town. Seen him bump into Doc. Seen him glare at you. There was something between him and the last teacher. I'd bet a weekend's pay on it." Carina's frown had become a challenging glare. "And I think you know more about all this than you are letting on."

Chuck suddenly felt conspicuous there on the street, dustpan in hand. "I don't…"

"Save it, Chuck. I'm not questioning your motives. But I don't have much to do all day and my upstair's room overlooks the street. I've been watching Idaho Falls. Things are going to turn ugly here, and I worry that you're going to get caught in the storm."

"What should I do?" Chuck could hear the perplexity in his own voice.

"Something, Boston. I don't know exactly what - but start with the Justus girl. Start with her now."

Chuck looked down at the dustpan. He looked back up at Carina. Her expression was one of pity mixed with annoyance. "Look, Chuck. Meet me tonight, out on the road where I caught up with you last night. We can...compare notes. Can you get a horse again?"

Chuck nodded. "Yes, I can."

"Good, when you get there, whistle a hymn. That way I'll know it's you. Bring that gun you take out when you and Nehi go shooting."

"What...I..I don't…"

"Chuck, lying is not your strong suit. Don't draw to it. Just meet me." She turned and walked away.

Chuck glanced up and down the street. No one seemed to have been paying attention to them. He walked back up the stairs and into the schoolhouse. Ruth had just finished with the board and was wringing the rag out into the bucket.

"Ruth," Chuck began, careful to modulate his tone, "that'll do. I'm going to lock up and put out the sign. You should go home."

Disappointment flashed across Ruth's face. "But, Mr. Bartowski, I can stay. I would be glad to help with lessons...or something...anything…" Her tone became soft. "I like to help you."

He knew then that Carina was right. "No, Ruth, there's nothing more to do. I think I will spend the day taking care of some personal matters."

Ruth stalled by the bucket. "I could help with those, Mr. Bartowski."

"No, Ruth. Thanks, but no. You really should go home. I'm sure your mother will want you there once she hears that school's been canceled."

At the mention of her mother, Ruth's shy smile vanished. "I saw you just now, Mr. Bartowski, talking to that...woman from The Bar None." An edge had formed in her voice. "Is she one of your errands?"

Chuck was not sure what to say. He was getting lost in all the cross-currents, in what he had said to folks and left unsaid: the things he had left unsaid to Sarah, but also the things he had left unsaid to the sheriff and to Ellie and to Morgan. He hadn't told out-and-out lies, but he had not been candid. He was filling up with secrets; his insides felt acrawl with them.

He allowed his annoyance with himself to color his answer. "Look, Ruth, I said the errands were personal. You are a very smart girl. You know what 'personal' means."

He saw the hurt in her eyes. He cursed himself. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, discourage her. She was making real progress, had proven herself the equal, as a student, of Monica Stutts. He started on an apology. "Ruth, I'm sorry…"

She burst into tears and ran out of the schoolhouse. Chuck followed her to the door but stopped there. He could not run after her, have a conversation with her, on the street. She was already down the stairs, rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of her dress.

That did not go well. Not well at all.

He went to his desk and took a piece of paper. He wrote School Canceled Today on it. As he left, he grabbed Johnny's vest. He shut the doors and locked them, and wedged the paper into the crack between the doors so that it was secure, visible.

He crossed the street to the sheriff's office, his shoulders slumped.

Sarah got off the seat in the wagon.

She had ridden to town with her father. Roan Montgomery had sent word that he was back and Jack had been eager to see him. Sarah had convinced him to let her ride along. She told him what was true: she needed to go to Patel's to see about buying trim for her wedding dress.

She had never done anything in her life as awful as the prospect of making that dress. A dress in which she would become Mrs. Daniel Shaw.

She had, when very little, imagined her wedding day, all bright light and pastel colors, happiness spread all around, but later, in the years she had spent assisting her father in his confidence-games, those imaginings had gone out-of-focus. When she finally accepted Daniel's proposal, they had darkened completely.

She wanted to make the dress out of funeral cloth, the blackest she could find - but of course, she could not do that. She could not get herself to make the dress at all until she played a confidence-game with herself. She imagined she was making it to wear when she became Mrs. Chuck Bartowski. As she worked, she strove to keep that image in mind. The image of Chuck in the front of the schoolhouse, waiting for her to wed him. As long as the picture was there, her hands worked nimbly, skillfully. But the picture kept warping, Daniel kept replacing Chuck. But she was now almost done with it. In a few weeks, she would wear it to marry the wrong man.

As she started toward Patel's, she glanced up and saw Carina Miller. Carina was framed in the window of an upstairs room of The Bar None. Carina saw Sarah see her. She jolted, then she crooked her finger at Sarah, and pointed from Sarah toward the back of the saloon.

Sarah stood still, undecided, then she started down the narrow street that ran along the side of The Bar None. When Sarah got to the back, Carina was at the foot of the rear stairs. She looked around then she spoke to Sarah. "Meet me at the cemetery in twenty minutes."

Again, Sarah stood still, undecided. Then she nodded. She turned and walked back down the side street and to Patel's. She made her purchases and put them in the wagon. Her father was still in Roan Montgomery's office, and likely would be for a time. Sarah started up the hill to the cemetery.

Sarah went through the gate in the fence. As she closed it and turned around, Carina stepped from behind the tree. Sarah walked to her and Carina turned and led her around the tree to its far side, out of view.

"What do you want, Miss Miller?"

"Call me Carina, please."

"Sarah."

Carina sighed. "Hello, Sarah. We've sort of met, obviously, but never exactly met."

"I'm pleased to exactly meet you."

Carina laughed silently and smiled. "Yes, me too."

"So, what do you want, Carina?"

"I want to talk to you about our school teacher. About Chuck. I need you to listen for a minute, please. I don't want to hem and haw, so let me just tell you what I know. I know that Chuck is in love with you. I know that you are in love with him."

"Carina…"

"Please listen. I also know that you are engaged to Daniel Shaw. I know he is an arrogant bastard. I know he is just looking for a reason, or maybe better, an opportunity, to ruin Chuck, or beat him, or even to kill him.

"I don't know if you know it, but Shaw threatened Chuck at The Bar None. I didn't hear all he said but his intent was plain. Shaw may be an arrogant bastard but he's no fool. He knows, even if he keeps denying it to himself, that you don't love him. And he knows that you have...feelings for Chuck. You are good, Sarah, I'll give you that: maybe you could have pulled it off, kept Shaw from realizing that you don't feel anything for him. I don't know your story - maybe it's just a native gift, but you can pretend. But not around Chuck, not for long and not very well. You're going to give yourself away, and it's going to be patent enough that Shaw won't deny it any longer. He'll make Chuck pay, Sarah. You and I both know how that will turn out."

Carina's color rose as she spoke. She stopped and her eyes bore into Sarah's. Sarah could not hold Carina's gaze; dropping her chin, Sarah stared at the ground. She stood like that, her head bowed, for several moments. Carina waited.

Sarah finally lifted her chin. "You love him too, don't you?"

Carina laughed ruefully. "I'm standing in a line, sister."

"What do you mean?"

"It doesn't matter. Let's just say Chuck's happiness matters to me - to a...surprising...degree."

"Okay, Carina, let's say that. And let's say that you are right, that you know what you know. What am I supposed to do? I'm trapped. To refuse Daniel would endanger Chuck, my Dad, our ranch, innocent shepherds, maybe even townsfolk. I am trying to keep how I feel from Daniel but I...have no experience with these feelings, with hiding something so...strong."

Carina nodded. "I understand. I even sympathize. But you need to break it off, Sarah. Pretend not for Shaw's sake, to convince him, but for Chuck's, to convince him. You need to make Chuck believe that you were shining him on. And then you need to stay away from him."

"And leave him to you?"

Carina smiled - a thin, half-hearted smile. "I won't deny that there's a part of me, a small one, that might get a degree of satisfaction from having him while you didn't, in taking what I know you want. But it is just a small part. More importantly - and more's the pity - I know it won't happen. Even if he believes you don't really care for him, he's just the sort of man who will go on caring for you. In fact, he'll probably love you even more…"

Sarah stood silent. She turned and looked out at the cemetery, at her mother's headstone.

She thought about finding Chuck beneath the tree she was now standing under, about finding him yesterday beneath the great pine, about their kisses and what they told each other.

"I can't do it, Carina. I can't pretend to Chuck that I don't care for him. My...bad angel...isn't that powerful. I will do everything I can to fool Daniel. I will not fool Chuck." My Chuck.

Carina narrowed her eyes. "I won't claim I understand the angel bit, but I figured that was what you'd say. And I needed to hear you say it. For a lot of reasons, I guess, but mainly so I could make up my mind. Do your damndest to fool Shaw, Sarah. I'll see what I can do to help."

"How can you help, Carina?"

"Let's just say that I have been known to help...to a surprising degree."

Sarah grabbed Carina and hugged her. After an awkward moment, Carina hugged her back - a little. They rotated as they hugged and Sarah's mother's headstone came again into view.

Thank you, Mom! Sarah thought to herself, as she blinked away tears.

Part Two: Afternoon

By afternoon, Idaho Falls had grown cold.

The temperature dropped. The all-watching, down-staring sky turned grey and opaque, as if it had developed cataracts. Other changes had occurred beneath it.

Word of Johnny Constance had spread through the town, a contagion. Worse, somehow word of the note found on Johnny had gotten out too. At first, the result had been isolated knots of whispering folks, here and there in town. Slowly, however, like drops of water running together, the isolated knots united, grew into larger knots, larger drops. The temperature continued to drop. The whispering folks began to talk more loudly.

Chuck was standing on the street, just a short distance from Mrs. Fitzsimmons', facing toward the schoolhouse.

He had finished his talk with the sheriff and then walked to her house. When he got there, Ellie was standing in the kitchen talking to Mrs. Fitzsimmons. Molly was helping Mrs. Fitzsimmons bake a cake. Chuck followed Ellie to her room when she finished telling Mrs. Fitzsimmons' about Johnny. The short version was that there had been no change.

He told Ellie about the note in Johnny's vest. She listened and stood thinking. "So, they were involved?"

"The note sounded that way. It smelled that way." He had told her of the faint fragrance still clinging to the note.

"What did the sheriff say?"

Chuck shifted his weight on his feet. "Not much. The whole thing has him rattled. His brother, Martin, stopped in while I was there - I guess after he checked on his son at Devon's?"

Ellie nodded. "He came shortly after you left. Such a big guy so...reduced by what's happened to his boy." Ellie shook her head softly.

"So, the sheriff showed Martin the note. They talked. They think maybe the spot where the men found Johnny - that that was the spot where he and Miss Reynolds...trysted."

Ellie yawned, covering her mouth. "Sorry, Chuck, I'm so tired. But, don't you find it odd that Johnny would decide to kill himself, apparently over Miss Reynolds, whatever exactly happened between them, but would go to do it without his vest or a note from her that he seemed to treat as a treasure or a talisman?"

Chuck thought about the blue ribbon in his shirt pocket. It had been with him every day since Sarah gave it to him. He wondered if Sarah had his Swedenborg; he had forgotten to ask. He assumed she did, hoped she did.

"Well, distraught people are...distraught, not thinking straight. Maybe he just...forgot?"

Ellie's answering look was unconvinced.

Chuck had left her to sleep and gone back to the kitchen. He helped Mrs. Fitzsimmons' and Molly with the cake and drank a cup of coffee. The bustle in the warm kitchen, Molly's bright eyes and frequent giggles, cheered Chuck and seemed to do the same for Mrs. Fitzsimmons. Chuck left the two of them making the icing and went to his room. He looked up at the shelf of books Miss Reynold's had left behind. He had not imagined, when Mrs. Fitzsimmons first pointed them out, how much of a part of his life Miss Reynolds would turn out to be.

He closed his door and took out his gun. He cleaned and checked it, as Nehi had taught him, preparing for whatever it was that Carina had planned for the night. After finishing, he put the gun away and sat back down in his armchair.

Had Johnny Constance killed the woman he apparently loved, killed Miss Reynolds? Why? Because she was pregnant? Was the child his? Had they had some sort of lover's spat, and had it gone wrong? Miss Reynolds' note was undated, but the fact that Johnny kept it suggested it had a special significance, suggested that perhaps it was the last such note he had gotten from her. That did not mean it had been written just before she was murdered - but it felt that way to Chuck. He got up and grabbed his pen and notebook. He started working on a possible timeline for Miss Reynold's final hours. It was like doing a jigsaw but not being able to see the shapes of the pieces, and not recognizing the picture they were to form. They seemed to fit together in a variety of possible ways. She had visited the railroad camp, talked to Shotgun Gert and been seen there by Monica Stutts. She had asked about an abortifacient. Apparently, she left empty-handed. She wrote a note to Johnny and perhaps met with him. She was seen talking to a man outside her window. She had a conversation later with Devon. How did it all fit together, and more, what did it mean?

He had fallen asleep in his chair puzzling over it all. He woke up almost two hours later. Now, he was standing on the street, getting ready to walk to Lou's for lunch. Molly had eaten while Chuck napped and was herself napping on Mrs. Fitzsimmons' living room couch. But there was a group of people congregated outside the schoolhouse. Chuck could see the group but not tell much about it from where he stood on the opposite end of the main street.

He walked quickly toward the schoolhouse. As he neared, he saw Mrs. Justus. She was on the top of the stairs, standing against the red doors. She was waving a bible in her hands.

"I tell you, brothers and sisters, townsfolk, I tell you that the Lord has judged this town. He has weighed Idaho Falls and found it wanting. And why? Because we are a town full of whores," she waved her bible at The Bar None, "because we let an infidel and free-thinker doctor us, we let a liberal man, a failed Divinity student, a friend of whores, teach our children," she waved her bible at Chuck as he approached, and he felt the eyes of the crowd on him. "Our previous schoolteacher was a whore - not a professional, " she glared at the saloon, "but a whore just the same. Murder, wanton behavior, thievery, free-thinking - all around us. I tell you," her voice slowed and grew louder, more shrill, "I tell you that the Lord has judged us. He made the bridge fall - a judgment against us - he sent the Numbers Gang - another judgment against us. He punished the whore schoolteacher and made it the case that she was buried in our ground - another judgment against us. Johnny Constance, hanging himself like Judas. Another judgment. Mark my words, if we do not repent, change our ways...

"This school," she pointed to the red doors, at Chuck's sign, "is closed today. I say it stays closed. Our children learn all they need to learn at home, studying their bibles. This man," she swung her arm around, her bible now pointing at Chuck, who had stopped at the edge of the crowd, "is teaching Shakespeare - stories of adultery and murder and revenge. Suicide. He's also talked to them about that foul, blasphemous book by Mr. Melville, Moby Dick. He invites the students to think with him about that...garbage, that...sin!"

"Enough, Mrs. Justus!" It was Sheriff Constance. "Enough. The town's on edge, and I doan need some nervy harpy a-makin' it wurse. Git down from there. Git moving folks."

There was resentful grumbling, shuffling, but the group began slowly to disperse.

Mrs. Justus marched down the steps. She stopped in front of Chuck. "I know what you are up to with my daughter. She will never be back at this school. Your days are numbered in this town, Mr. Bartowski. Mark. My. Words."

Chuck stared back at her. "For by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned."

Mrs. Justus opened her mouth, then closed it. She reddened and marched past the sheriff and down the street. Ruth Justus had not been in the crowd.

Chuck was worried by Mrs. Justus and her threat.

Mainly, though, he felt guilty. He had failed Ruth.

Maybe he was failing the town too.

Ruth. He hadn't thought of her name as a word, a word with a meaning. And it came to him, as he stood there, watching Athaliah Justus stomp away. Webster's: 'Ruth' meant mercy, pity, sorrow for the misery of another. The word, Webster's noted, was obsolete.

Yes, ruth seems obsolete.

Chuck glanced up. The half-blind grey sky stared fixedly down.

A/N2: Tune in next time as Chuck takes a nocturnal ride with Carina. And other stuff.

Thoughts? I'd really love to hear from you, especially if you've never commented yet or if it's been a few chapters since you have.