Serving the Paper

Night after night we would sit around the kitchen table listening to the stories our Maine friends told.  Most of the stories were hilarious, some were incredibly sad. In Maine good story telling is an art. The story I write here I has been altered. They are based on actual stories told to us, though the names and places are fiction.

SERVING THE PAPER

Two of the skinniest little boys you ever saw are huddled together on the front landing of the Jefferson Market Basket. About 5 and maybe 7 years old.  Ripped shorts, no shoes, no shirt. Shoulder blades sticking out like little wings, every rib visible. Honest to God arms like toothpicks.  Black shadows of dirt or maybe bruises all over their faces and chests.

Stuart Greenlaw, a deputy sheriff had stopped at the market on his lunch break to pick up a gallon of milk and some lottery ticket for his wife. Went over to see what the grocery store owner Donna Brunell and a few other people were looking at.  Donna comes right over to Stu and says, We gotta get them some help.  McCabe kids. Mother was in here this morning looking like all hell broke on her. Better call it in, Stu.

 Stu kneels down in front of the boys. Can't get a word out of them. "Where's your momma?" he asks a couple of times. Tiny filthy feel scuff at the dirt in the lot, eyes looking enormous in emaciated faces. Finally the older boy mumbles, "Left."  Stu tells them to wait right there he was going to get them something to eat.

Donna and Stuart come back outside and hand each of the boys a popsicle.  The boys hold them still wrapped in paper and just stare at them.  Stu helps them get the paper off.  They take little licks and red juice runs down tiny arms. Stu's radio crackles and he speaks to dispatch: "Greenlaw here. Might have a 273 here at the Jefferson Market.  Have Stilwell meet me here as soon as possible."

Leland Stilwell and Stu are the only two Sherriff's Deputies for the whole area around Jefferson Township.  They've worked together for years and were friends before that. Henry is kindly known by all as Chief Tall Tree as he is close to 7 feet tall, high cheek bones, trim and rugged as an Injun they say.  Doesn't smile much. Kindest man on earth but the bad guys don't know that. He has what they call the evil eye. Scare you straight the minute he sets eyes on you. Stu stands almost a foot shorter than his friend and is always smiling.  They make quite a remarkable pair.

Deputy Stilwell arrives in a Police Unit. Stu walks over, points his thumb back toward the boys. "Abuse case Leland.  Mother abandoned them.  Think they live somewhere over this side of the Wiscasset bridge off Rt. 1."

 Leland says, "Yeah. I know em.  Been called out there a bunch of times.  She'd never bring charges.  Even threatened to call the county. She said no, he'll kill me.  So, we let it go. Sheriff's Office said just keep an eye on it.  She didn't register the kids for school so they woulda been picked up probly this week anyways.  Well, the shit's hit the fan now.  Get em in the back.  We'll take em to the school nurse, see if EMS should get involved.  After you take your stuff home to Jean, come out and meet me at the school." 

Stu lifts one of the kids. Light as a feather.  Leland gets the other one.  They're too weak to make any resistance, but they are both crying weak little kitten sounds, red popsicle juice dripping down their chins, tears making tracks down their grimy cheeks.  Stu is saying over and over, "It's OK. There now. It'll be OK.  We'll get your momma.  We'll get your momma soon as we can."  They get the kids still holding on to each other for dear life buckled in the back.

When Stu gets back to the school Leland is leaning against the wall outside the nurse's office.  "Nance cleaned em up a bit, got em some warm clothes, he says. Fed em some cottage cheese, threw it all up.  Nance had me call EMS.  She said they need medical attention. Probably glucose and maybe a protein drip." They can hear the kids crying inside.

Leland and Stu leave as the EMS people take the kids away to the hospital in Augusta.  Word comes later that night that they are doing OK on a drip.  The hospital has turned the case over to the Lincoln County authorities listing child endangerment, and abuse evidenced by the bruises covering their little bodies. 

A week later a call comes in to Stu from The Lincoln County Sherriff's Office  that  the boys' mother has been ringing up daily to find out where her kids are. She's with her sister over to Edgecomb and has signed a restraining against her husband which the judge approved. The Sherriff says Stu and Leland are to serve papers on the father who is living out Wiscasset way in the family trailer.  He's beaten the living shit out of his wife, and the kids too. He'll have to appear in court on violating the restraining order.  But first he has to sign the papers. 

Stu drives his pick-up over to Brownsville to collect Leland. Faster that way, and with bad weather and all.  The deputies wear khakis and windbreakers, badges underneath on their shirts. Incognito, Stu says.

The weather has turned a nasty coastal storm.  Blowing like hell, rain turns to sleet.  Stu and Leland head out to Wiscasset. The pick-up bumps along the dirt road off Route 1 which hasn't been graded for years. A few lobster boats are seen here and there on the side of the lane.  Some in fair shape, some wrecks.  Lobstering is done for the season- lobster is cheaper than beef. It's been a bad year all around. 

The McCabe housetrailer is parked at the end of the lane.  Leland runs the plates on the old Escort parked in the driveway.  Dennis McCabe.  Bugger's in there, Leland growls. Bang on the rattletrap door.  Guy finally opens up. Stands there blinking in Leland's torch light, looking like Digger O'Dell would soon be digging a grave for him. 

Stuart: "You are being served by the Lincoln County Sheriff's Department for non compliance of your restraining order.  You are unlawfully on these premises." He holds out the paper telling McCabe to sign.

 Eyes bloodshot, sores around the guy's nose, looking up and down from Leland's stony face to Stu he can barely stand. McCabe spits, "You can go to hell with your paper.  I ain't signing no goddam paper." McCabe makes a move to shut the door but Leland sticks his mammoth boot in the jamb, muckles on to McCabe's arm- 'bout breaks it.

"You don't sign, we'll have to take you in."  Leland tells him his rights, drags him out of the trailer and over to the pickup.  "Gotta get my stuff," McCabe whines. Crazy bastard, Stu thinks. Not going in there to get a gun. Leland reads his mind and nods. Stu takes one arm, Leland takes the other and they throw McCabe up into the truck bed.  Leland reaches in and cuffs McCabe's left arm to the gun rack above the back window.

Now it's sleeting to beat the band.  Stu drives; Leland rides shotgun.  Get about 2 or so miles out and McCabe starts banging on the back window with his free arm.  Then beats his fist on roof of the truck, screaming like a stuck pig. Hair plastered to his head, shirt stuck to his body, and the guy is shaking so hard in the cold the gun rack is rattling. McCabe is yelling something now. Stu puts his window down a crack, slows the truck and pulls over. 

"I'LL SIGN! I'LL SIGN!  I'M ABOUT TO SHIT THE BED OUT HERE!"

Leland gets out, uncuffs McCabe and passes the paper and a pen up to him.  Tells McCabe to use the tool box to write on. There on the bottom. McCabe scribbles his name on the form, hands it down to the Deputy.  Leland looks it over real slow, hands to paper back up. Tells McCabe to print his full name beneath the signature and date it. "And do it so I can read it good," he says.  McCabe does this though he's shaking so hard he can hardly hold the pen. Leland takes the paper, looks it over.

"Guess that'll do," he tells McCabe. " Come down outta there. " McCabe jumps down.  His knees buckle, he tips over and finally manages to stand up.

"OK.  You'll be notified about the court date.  Better show up or we'll do-si-do again."  Stu starts up the motor and Leland gets back in the truck.  Now McCabe is screaming again, face up against the passenger side window, hands either side of his face on the glass. " HEY!  YOU CAINT LEAVE ME HERE!"

Stu puts the truck in gear. Leland leans over, looks McCabe straight in the eye and growls, "You go shank's mare ya bastard McCabe. We only get paid the one way."

The truck's tires throw up dirt getting back onto Rt. 1. Moody's for pie and coffee, Leland?  Ayah.