Mike hesitated, eying me with raised eyebrows, as if he was wondering what I’d do while alone with Steve. I kept my face blank. After a half a minute, Mike seemed to decide he didn’t care after all and left.
Once they were gone, I moved to stand in front of Steve.
His breaths started coming out fast and harsh through his nose. Then, after two long minutes, he held his breath and his shoulders dropped in resignation, as if he realized he couldn’t stop me from hitting him, and maybe even agreed that I had the right to.
And that’s when I realized even my beating up this guy would also be more than he deserved. Because he knew he was wrong. He knew what he’d done, to his own family and to everyone else’s here. Deep down, part of him was probably even hoping I’d give him a beating or kill him. Because then he wouldn’t have to feel guilty for getting away with his crimes.
But I didn’t want his punishment to be quick or easy. I wanted him to live with what he’d done. Every day, I wanted him to have to see himself in the mirror and know he’d killed three people and attacked many others.
All out of fear and love for his family.
So while my hands literally ached with the need to smash up Steve’s face and ribs, and while my imagination kept coming up with ever better ideas for exacting personal retribution on Tarah’s attacker...
I simply led him past his victims and out the door to the infirmary’s porch, around which the whole village now stood shivering.
“Hey, everyone, listen up. We found the source of the illness,” I said, using those old debate skills my father had insisted I learn and speaking from my diaphragm so that my voice projected out over the crowd.
Silence. A few gasps. Someone called out, “Are you serious?”
“Very,” I said. “Ask Mike. He helped me and...”
“And Wanda,” the older healer yelled out from the crowd.
I nodded at her. “Wanda and Mike and I did a Wiccan binding spell on Steve here.” I grabbed the trailing end of the red yarn and held it up. “Almost immediately after we did, everyone who was sick began to get well again. Including his wife Pamela.”
I looked behind me through the infirmary’s glass storm door. Pamela and Cassie stood behind the glass, huddled together as if worried the whole village would stone them to death.
“Pamela, why don’t you join us? I think everyone here knows how hard you worked night and day to try and save everyone you could.” I gave her a reassuring nod.
After a short hesitation, they both stepped out onto the porch, Cassie still clutching her mother’s waist.
“But why’d he make his own wife sick?” someone asked from the crowd.
“Steve, why don’t you explain in your own words?” I tugged the strings from over his mouth.
Absolute silence filled the clearing. In the distance, I saw the door to Tarah’s and my house open and a tumble of dark hair above a sleeping bag moved to stand in the doorway. Tarah was obviously feeling better.
I wished I could go to her now. But being a leader seemed to mean personal sacrifice at times.
I just hoped I was handling this in a way she approved of. Of course, if I wasn’t, she’d be sure to tell me about it later.
“I...wanted to take my wife and kid away from here,” Steve finally confessed, his voice so quiet it never would have carried if I hadn’t helped the wind catch his words and spread them around. “I was afraid it wasn’t safe here for them. So I tried to show them that. And it got out of hand. I never meant to kill anyone—”
“But you did, Steve!” Pamela burst out on a sob, her hands gripping the porch railing. “Three people died because of you. How could you think I’d ever want to be with you after what you’ve done?”
“An eye for an eye!” someone yelled. “He’s a murderer. He deserves to die.”
Murmurs of agreement from the crowd. I glanced at Pamela, half expecting her to be afraid for her husband. But I should have known better. Pamela was made tougher than that. And she looked mad enough to kill him herself.
Unfortunately, their kid wasn’t so tough. Tears poured down Cassie’s face.
I made my way to the top step, raising my hands and letting the wind kick up everyone’s hair and hats until they quieted down and paid attention. “I understand you’re all mad, and rightfully so. I myself have good cause to beat the ever living crap out of Steve.” I nodded at Tarah, and heads swiveled to glance her way. “But the truth of the matter is, there’s only a few here who can really decide what’s just punishment for Steve. And that’s his wife and the families of those who died because of him.”
“His wife?” someone yelled out, accompanied by loud mutters.
“That’s right. Because she was also one of the people he attacked. And in every trial, the accused gets representation,” I replied.
More mutterings as I slowly walked through the crowd toward Tarah. From what I overheard along the way, I could tell some people wanted to skip the trial and burn Steve alive. Still others didn’t see how his death would bring any of his victims back.
Personally, I really didn’t care what they decided. All I knew was that I’d managed to do something my father never would have, and that was to put my own feelings aside and let justice have its way with Steve instead. My father probably never would have let Steve reach a trial alive. And even if he had, he never would have allowed his voters to actually do the deciding as a group, at least not without his “help”. Instead, he would have stuck around, instigating, whispering, or even blatantly yelling out suggestions for what they should all do to the murderer. One way or the other, my father would have had a hand in the outcome, leading his people into fear and darkness and distrust in both themselves, their community and their world.
But I wanted to do things differently.
Was it possible to be a leader without becoming a stereotypical politician, resorting to lies and manipulation and destroying everyone around me in the process? Could a true leader give the power to his people, instead of keeping it all for himself? Could he build others up around himself instead of tearing them down?
Tarah made me want to give it a try and see if I could manage it.
Though it nearly took forever to accomplish it, I finally got through the crowd and reached our porch where she now stood.
“Hey, should you be up and about already?” I murmured against the side of her cheek as I wrapped my arms around her, blankets and all.