"I-I'm with child," Pamela whispered to him, her shaking hand covering her belly.
Elias's face went blank. At first, his mind could not comprehend what she said. She's with child? But there's no child here, he thought. Then he realized what she meant.
"You can't be!" he hissed. Pastor Malachi Voorhees would kill him. He could not have gotten a girl pregnant out of wedlock.
Pamela raised a tear-streaked face up to him.
"I am," she whined. "What are we going to do about it?"
Elias tried to dodge his responsibility, terrified of what his old preacher of a father would do. For good reason. One night late in November, Pamela's father came to the door with a grim look on his face. Elias hid in his room. He tried to sneak out, but his mother caught him. She pointed him back to his room. Moments after Elias heard the door close, Pastor Voorhees came in with the belt.
"Bend over," he said in a low, tight voice. On shaky legs, the eighteen year old Elias obeyed him. His father whipped him to within an inch of his life. His mother came in after what seemed like hours, carrying a bucket of strong-smelling disinfectant and a rag. She began dabbing at the cuts on his back.
"You're going to marry Pamela," she said. "Or it will be worse next time."
Elias jerked his head in a slight up and down motion, unable to say anything. He wasn't going to cry, and get a lecture about how men don't cry to go along with the whipping he had received.
A day later, his father dragged him to the courthouse. Pamela stood there uncertainly, with her father. The two of them were marched into the courthouse, and were married. Elias gave her his high school ring as her wedding ring, since they didn't have the money for another ring.
Elias was forced to get a job at the local factory, so he could get a place for he and Pamela to live. He hated every moment of it, but he did it. Then he and Pamela moved into a small apartment above Main Street, with the help of friends of her family, the Christies. The apartment was small and cramped. It was just one dingy room with a small kitchenette and a tiny bathroom with a shower. Ugly yellow paint on the walls tried to hide the old stains on them. The furniture was cheap, old, and uncomfortable. The mattress coils were broken in several places, making sleep very difficult. Mrs. Christie helped Pamela to refine her cooking skills, and she got a job at the local cafe.
The two made due with what they had, though both were unhappy. Pamela was at least excited for the birth of the baby. But Elias was not. He wanted his freedom back, though he had to admit, he was at least glad he was no longer having to live with his father.
Pastor Voorhees still had nothing but harsh words for his son, but his tone was almost kind whenever he spoke to Pamela. His mother, however, saw her as nothing more than a Jezebel who had lead her little boy astray. Her parents wanted nothing to do with her, seeing her pregnancy as an embarrassment, even though the two had done the right thing, and gotten married.
On June 13, 1946, everything changed.