River of Fire Page 3
Chapter 3
A heavy banging made Victoria jump. She hurried to the door. The thin panels vibrated under more thunderous blows. Fearing it would break, she sprang to open it.
Constable Luke Maples stood on the stone steps. Fist raised and legs spread, he stood there ready to strike again.
"Meetin's started," he growled. Turning away, he was swallowed up in falling snow.
Taking a few precious seconds, Victoria surveyed the scene before her. The landscape looked like a winter wonderland the stark trees turned into glazed statues. The barren brown earth sparkled like a blanket of fairy dust. She breathed in the fresh frozen air, then hurried to the front door of the schoolhouse. The snow seeped into her shoes.
Entering the schoolroom, Victoria's heart swelled. Every seat was occupied with children. Their mothers and fathers stood against the walls. Wind howled around the building, finding every crack, driving bits of ice and snow against the windows.
Anxious to get to the school, Victoria had left her coat in her room. She shivered now, wishing she had taken time to get it. All eyes turned in her direction. She gave them her best smile, only to be met with stares and frowns. Her desk had been pushed against the wall; the three members of the school board sat in front of it.
The president of the bank, Harvey Anderson, Phillip Metcalf, a prominent farmer, and Fred Morgan sat before Victoria's desk. Constable Maples took a seat on the dunce stool in the corner, his large body overflowing the child's chair. Victoria never used that stool, feeling encouragement a better aid than humiliation.
She started to make her way to the front of the room, smiling at the children seated around her.
"Please wait until we call for you, Miss Winters," Harvey Anderson said.
"But the Christmas Pageant. . . ."
"Miss Winters, we are in a meeting to discuss your future. There will be no Christmas play," Phillip Metcalf said, chopping off each word.
"I don't understand," Victoria said, continuing to walk toward the front.
"Miss Winters, please stand back against the wall until we ask you to speak," Anderson said. "If need be, Constable Maples will assist you."
Maples stepped off the stool, a broad, evil grin on his face. His eyes sent a chill through her heart. Reluctantly, Victoria turned and walked to the back of the room. People stepped out her way, giving her a wide path. Maples sat back down. His eyes still on her, he gave her a wink. The action made her blood run cold.
"The board will now hear from Mr. Owen Hayman. Mr. Hayman, do you wish to speak?" Anderson asked, addressing a man in high boots, wool pants, and a plaid shirt.
"I sure do!" Owen Hayman replied. He gave Victoria an angry look. "My Billy came home an hour late tonight."
"Is that unusual?" Fred Morgan asked.
"No sir, it's not. Many a time, Billy has stayed behind and helped clean up. That's just the kind of boy he is." He paused for breath.
"I kept him over to redo a test. I..."
"Please be quiet Miss Winters . you will have a chance to defend your actions no matter how deplorable they may be." Morgan said.
"But I..."
Maples stepped off the stool. Victoria moved back until she pressed against the wall.
"Billy, come here," Owen called. Painfully, Billy Hayman eased himself out of his chair.
Turning Billy around to face away from the school board, his father gently raised the boy's shirttail. Red angry welts crisscrossed Billy's back, a few wounds still seeping blood. The crowd gasped and some of the women cried out in shock.
"Doc says he may be scarred for life," Owen said, his face a mask of anger. "That woman ain't fit to teach pigs. She beat my Billy until his shirt was soaked in blood!" he said, staring straight at Victoria.
Victoria's face paled! Her mind raced. For a moment, she felt faint.
"No, no! I would never do. . . "
"Quiet, Miss Winters. You will have a chance to respond to the charges."
"Billy," Anderson said softly, "can you tell us what happened?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Billy saw Whitey's threatening stare, his hands hanging at his side, closing into fists. For one instance, Billy had a touch of courage and then it crumbled.
"Teacher did it," he said so softly that Anderson leaned forward unable to hear him.
"Please speak up, son. There's no need to be afraid."
The little boy pointed a shaky, accusing finger at Victoria.
"Teacher did it! I...I fail my mathematics test and..." the boy began to sob.
Whitey had a triumphant smile on his face; he had never liked Victoria and now he would be rid of her. Billy hung his head in shame.
"What did she use, son?" Metcalf asked.
"A little whip," Billy murmured.
"This one?" Maples asked picking up a whip from the floor beside the stool.
The color drained from the child's face as he recognized the whip Whitey had used.
"Yes sir," Billy said trembling, tears running down his cheeks. "It hurt."
"I would imagine it hurt like blazes," Anderson said.
"What's the punishment for something like this, Maples?" Metcalf asked the constable.
"But I didn't do it. I would never whip him," Victoria cried.
Then why did we find this whip in your desk?"
The people around her moved back as if Victoria had a deadly disease.
Victoria cringed into the background. She couldn't believe her ears. Surely, they didn't mean her.
"Someone must have put it in there. I didn't do it. Billy, tell them."
"Some time in the pokey; depend on how far ye want to carry it," Maples snuffed his heavy mustache, thoroughly enjoying her discomfort.
"What do you mean?" Fred asked.
"Well, if you want to go through the court trial, it could mean a couple of years in the penitentiary."
Victoria felt as if a giant hand was squeezing her heart.
"You oughta see what they do to nineteen-year-olds up there," Maple said.
His eyes told Victoria more than she wanted to know.
A woman's voice spoke up. Victoria thought it was Mrs. Hayman but she could not be sure.
"If you ask me, we oughta use that whip on her!"
A roar of approval went up from the crowd.
RIVER OF FIRE