I love courtroom settings. The implication is a time of high drama. Lawyers from both sides of a dispute come armed with all the legal tools they can find. They’re like gladiators entering the Roman arena. They do battle with words and ideas, but the results are no less devasting. The defendants could lose their fortune, their freedom or in some criminal cases their lives. Will justice triumph? Will mercy rule? With that introduction, I begin.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you have before you Frank Rezley, a disgusting character in the novel, Baggage burdens. He stands before you accused of egregious abuse, of delivering serious physical pain to his daughter, Jill. But that’s not the worst part of his shameless behavior. Those beatings fueled by alcohol resulted in mental anguish for his daughter, a torment that lasted not only while her scars were healing but for more than twenty-five torturous years. If only that were the limit of suffering born from the fists Frank Rezley, a limit that is far too great for any person to have to endure. His violent behavior resulted in Jill fearing bearded men, fearing those who smoked, fearing those who consumed alcohol. Her condition generalized to fearing any man, unless she felt she was in control. The controlling drive created tension between Jill and her husband, between Jill and her eldest son. Her lack of trust spread causing tensions in the religious community in which she lived, and to her female neighbors and her niece.
Now Frank’s defender would like to say that by pointing to all the other people that suffer at Jill’s hands is muddying the waters. He can’t be blamed for Jill’s actions years later. Who could possibly predict that actions taken between two fighting people could have consequences way in the future? Who could predict that people who weren’t at a violent encounter would be affected?
That is the challenge that readers of Baggage burdens. face. Is it reasonable to hold Frank responsible for Jill’s lengthy suffering? For the suffering of Jill’s husband? Of Daniel, Of her eldest son? Of her friends? Of her niece? If he’s not to blame, then who is to blame? Is other's mental suffering really that significant?
Joseph plods through loose, dry soil to Jill.
“About a month ago, you brought up Daniel’s schooling.”
Joseph speaks in a low, controlled monotone. Jill suspects leashed anger. At times her father sounded like that before he exploded. Jill nods in response to Joseph’s assertion.
“I hear you tried to convince Daniel he should take his schooling at home with his sister after we talked. It scared him.” Joseph’s neck stretches forward as if he is preparing to snap at any objection before she can start it. “I told him I’d fix it with you so you wouldn’t bring it up again. We talked about it again last week. You agreed you wouldn’t say anything about it. Remember?”
She’d hoped Daniel might be more open to reconsidering. Still disturbed by Joseph’s aggressive tone, she nods.
“I told him the issue was settled. Not to worry. Then last night you hinted about it again. If he gets wind of it, he’ll be so upset. We’ll both lose his trust. I don’t expect to hear about Daniel and homeschooling ever again. Got it?”
Jill nods.
“Good. It’s settled.” Joseph takes one last long look at Jill.
She feels he’s searching for a hint of an objection. She breathes easy when he turns around, climbs on the tractor, and moves his load farther down the row to pick up more potatoes. Jill slowly walks back to the house.
He sounds like my father, issuing orders.
Joseph’s frustration supplies him with surplus energy to finish picking up the rest of the harvest from the field. He unloads the whole wagon, then carefully stacks the sacks in the cold storage bin.
“It’s not fair. It not fair. He’s such a good man.” Looking at Eve, Daniel adds, “You know Dad said he’d drive me to school every day so I wouldn’t have to take homeschooling from my mother?”
“I know. You told me.”
“And now he’s broke. He’s broke because of that stupid house my mother wants. Dad has to borrow money.”
“It’s only a temporary thing. And it’s good that your dad has people like Thomas who are willing to help. Maybe it’s good that sometimes he is on the receiving end. It shows you that people love him too.”
“But it shouldn’t have happened. It’s all my mother’s fault.” Daniel takes a deep breath. Tension drains as if he lanced a boil. The peace is short-lived. “She doesn’t have to choose the most expensive house. She doesn’t even have to move. It’s almost like she has blinkers on. You know like Mr. Starzak’s horse. All she can see is her own narrow self-interests. She can’t see the trouble she’s causing for the rest of us—Dad driving me to school, Amber boarding her horse here, Dad unhappy about moving to the city. It’s just not fair.”
“But there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s what your dad wants to do.”
“Maybe there is. Maybe, if I can convince my mother that the move is more trouble than it’s worth. Maybe she’ll change her mind, or maybe she’ll agree to a different house.”
“Well, if you’re pleading, you’ll have to change your tone. Challenging her desire to move will anger her, and you’ll end up upsetting your father.”
“I know.”
To appreciate the full impact of Jill’s troubled mental state read the novel, then consider whether her actions are linked to the abusive treatment that she received at the hands of her father.
haiku capsule:
scales-of-justice work
for lasting harmful affects
culpability?
Nextblog: Pet Attachment
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