The town deliberated for many months over what to do. It was obvious the hippies had no money and few if any possessions. It would have gone against their sense of charity to force them out. But they were becoming a nuisance, with their loitering and poor hygiene. Not all of them were this way, which is another reason why the town tried to stay open-minded. A few had taken immediately to the town culture, and within days of their arrival, they were actively involved in the gardening and harvesting, learning the intricacies of woodworking, even going to market. They donated what few books they had brought with them to the town library and would read aloud to whoever cared to stop and listen. It was a great boon to the children to have “story hour” added to their choice of entertainment. Eventually these few hippies assimilated to the point of marrying within the town families, and they themselves began to participate in the deliberations about what to do about the others.
“The choice was made for them,” the sisters had said. “It was winter and the days were very short. The sun didn’t rise until well after seven. It was a Sunday and nobody was out on the darkened streets yet, except for the elder Reverend Goodheart. He was coming early to the church to start the fires to warm up the large rooms. But as he stood before the side door, he heard faint gasping and soft thuds, like someone slipping on the icy sheet that covered the ground. He turned and saw a figure, a female figure, staggering toward him. It wasn’t until she was right before him, reaching out her arms to him, that he recognize young Shelley Windsprite. Poor dear Shelley,” they had said, shaking their head.
“The poor thing, she was only fifteen at the time, she was practically frozen. She was—“ and here they blushed and looked away from their audience. “She was without clothes, not a stitch on, and there was blood all over her legs and backside. They said her face was scratched and there was blood in her hair. They said she cried, “Father, father” over and over and then collapsed in the elder Reverend Goodheart’s arms. They said that he gathered her up and that he said she was so light and little, that he could have been carrying a baby for all he knew. His heart was quite broken for he knew immediately what had happened.
“He said nothing to her parents after they let him in and they said nothing in return. They all just went about cleaning Shelley and getting her warm. Shelley’s mum and older sister drew a warm bath and put herbs and teas in it to take away the scent of blood and . . . intimacy. They washed her hair and rinsed it with lavender water to help her relax and hopefully sleep. They said she only moaned occasionally and she did not open her eyes for a long time. The elder Reverend suspected the hippies had abused her. He knew they imbibed alcohol but had hoped they would confine their use to their camps.
“When Shelley finally became conscious, she was hysterical until her mother came to her side. They fetched the elder Reverend and then Shelley told her story, but not without often breaking into great sobs. Now, this is what we were told: There’s a great house high up on a hill in our town. And it’s been empty for many, many years. We think that some of the hippies found the house and decided they could stay there, although it was in truly bad condition. A few of the lads were celebrating their find of the house and they came down to the town.
“It was quite late and Shelley Windsprite was coming home from the library. You know, it was always unlocked so anyone who couldn’t sleep and needed a book could go there and get one. Shelley was a great reader and she hadn’t realized how late it was. Her parents were already asleep, and they knew she was at the library so they weren’t worried.
The sisters stopped and looked coldly at their audience. They resumed with, “We didn’t have to worry about anything bad happening in our town until those hippies came. Well, these lads saw Shelley. They were quite inebriated so they took it upon themselves to kidnap her and take her away to the old house. She said she never had a chance to scream. They said she would only tell her mother and sister what they had done to her and only they ever saw her wounds. They said . . ..”
Again the sisters faltered. Jonas remembered that he took a moment to look around. They were all seated in a coffee house: the sisters, Jonas and his roommate, and two other girls. They all were in the same literature class and had taken to meeting at the coffee house to study and socialize. One of the other girls put a gentle hand on the sister who had last spoke. The other sister continued the story.
“They said that she would never have children and may always be in some pain because they had hurt her so badly. They said it was the pain and the nightmares that drove her to kill herself. She often said they should have just killed her.”
“There was no shame,” the other sister put in suddenly. “No one blamed Shelley for any of it. She did have a suitor at the time and he was so gentle and patient. He was deeply in love with her and would have been happy to live with her without intimacy, he loved her that much.”
The other sister continued, “But she said that was no life. Still, it was really the pain and the nightmares. If she hadn’t been so badly hurt, I think she would married Paul.”
“What happened to the lads that hurt her,” asked Jonas’s roommate.
“They and the other hippies were forced to leave town. We are not a violent people. We hunt but only for food, not sport. The men never abuse their wives or their children, and the women are the same. It is what we believe, that everyone deserves to be treated with respect. The body is a holy temple and the soul is a gift.
“But the men did force them out. They brought their rifles with them and stood aside as the women went forward and told the hippies why they must leave. That is usually how we do things: the women talk and reason, the men show strength and resolve. The hippies were not happy to be put out. They had grown to live living in Constance, but, frankly, the town had grown quite tired of them already. There was no turning back after what they did to Shelley. The town held all of them responsible since they had all come together. Much in the same way that we take responsibility for each other.”
“What about the house,” Jonas asked.
“The town had to go up there and make sure the lads and al their things were gone. They knew that the hippies were not evil and that those lads had not been control of themselves. We were told, in fact, that the lads were quite sick the next day because they had drunk so much and when they were told what they had done, they got sicker and cried like little babies, begging the town’s forgiveness. They kept offering to make restitution, to do something to prove that they hadn’t meant to hurt Shelley. The town believed them but the harm to Shelley was done and no restitution could ever amend what they did to her.”
“It must take a deep faith in humanity to believe that those boys had not intended to harm Shelley,” said one of the girls.
“They said their faith was shaken, first by Shelley’s story, and then what they found in the house. Still, regardless of their faith, they would not let the lads or the others stay—“
“What did they find in the house,” interrupted Jonas.
The sisters looked directly at him, both sets of eyes meeting his. It was a bit daunting.
“The things they used to hurt Shelley. A broken broom handle, a small knife, a rope. All these things were covered with Shelley’s blood.” Everyone at the table, except the sisters, bowed their heads and tried to keep their imaginations still. The sisters had stopped talking, obviously exhausted from their awful story. All of them sat in silence for several moments before Jonas’ roommate discreetly elbowed him. Getting his attention, his roommate ever so slightly jerked his head toward the door. Jonas understood immediately: the men must leave. The sisters and the two other girls were still staring at their cups of coffee and tea, but they were waiting. He felt it then. They wanted Jonas and his roommate to leave so they could talk amongst themselves.
They stood up. Jonas cleared his throat and said, very softly, “We are so sorry for what happened in your idyllic community. We hope it never experiences such a tragedy again.”
The sisters looked up him and smiled at him gently. They simply nodded in accepting his sentiments, but their eyes told him that it was not the last tragedy to befall their town.
