No Gein II: A Second Helping. Chapter Five

Part Five: Concealed Transgressions

October 26th, 1957. Plainfield, Wisconsin

Johnny was scared. He had been awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of uncontrollable sobbing. The young boy knew it was the cries of a woman, and he knew that woman was not his mother. It wasn’t any voice he recognized, but the crying was uncontrollable.

Following the sounds of the woman’s wailing, Johnny walked down the dark hallway towards the stairwell. Creeping down a few steps, he peered into the living room below. From there he could see a strange woman sitting next to his mother on the couch. His mom was holding this woman in her arms like they were real close. Whoever this woman was, she kept babbling something about a house. Johnny couldn’t understand what she was saying, but it sounded like something real awful happened to her. Johnny’s father was standing over them, and he looked like he was real mad. Daddy’s friend the Sheriff was there too. The Sheriff looked up towards the stairwell, where he met Johnny’s eyes. The young boy got real scared and ran back to bed. Shutting the door behind him, Johnny pulled the covers over himself and shut his eyes tight, fearing he’d get a whuppin.

He awoke to the feeling of a hand on his back shaking him frantically. The hand was pushing so hard the whole bed shook. Johnny groggily pulled down his covers to see his dad sitting on the edge of the bed. Sunlight now brightly shined through his bedroom window. Johnny thought it must be the next day now, but Dad’s eyes looked real tired like he was up all night.

“What did you hear?” His father asked sternly.

“I didn’t hear nothin dad.”

“Don’t you lie to me boy or you’re gonna get the belt.”

“I don’t know dad, I…” Johnny desperately sought the words that wouldn’t result in a whuppin. “I didn’t understand it.”

He could tell his dad was thinking as he remained silent at the bed’s edge. Eventually, he pointed at him sternly saying, “You listen to me boy, I saw something God-damn awful last night, and it’s something I hope nobody else ever has to see. If people start knowing about it, then every carnie and hustler in a thousand miles will be coming to our little town making us out to be a freak show. Is that what you want?” His dad didn’t wait for an answer as he grabbed his son hard by the arm and shook him shouting “Is it!” 

“No dad!” Johnny said, almost in tears. Finally, his dad released his grip and left the room.

Johnny hadn’t realized it yet, but his mom let him sleep in that day and miss Church. Dad missed Church too. It seemed he’d gone somewhere; but Johnny didn’t dare ask where. Dad was real quiet the rest of the day, which he spent reading his Bible. It looked like he was thinking really hard about something. Johnny didn’t totally understand what he’d just experienced, but he was old enough to know it was pretty serious.

Indianapolis, Indiana August 31, 2003

Kristina didn’t broach the issue of those old papers again. She was just happy to get her mother out of the house. Church was not a place she’d been to in a while, but since moving back in with mom they started going again. Kristina was skeptical if praying did any good, but given how awful the world seemed during the last few years, she figured it wouldn’t hurt. She did like today’s message, as the Minister gave a sermon on Proverbs 28:13 and the importance of revealing the truth, even during trying times. “Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy.”

There was no mercy from negative news as, while driving home after church, the car radio reported another bombing in Iraq. At the Imam Ali Mosque two car bombs exploded killing 95 people including Islamic Scholar Muhammad Baqir al-Hakim. Kristina’s skin crawled as the voice over the radio expounded on how this bombing was part of a continuing wave of violence as the first post-Saddam government was to be established in Iraq next week. Her step-nephew was just starting his senior year of high school. She dreaded the thought of him joining the military and getting shipped off into this meat grinder; where there was always news about violence and bombings, but never about WMD’s being found.

She couldn’t talk about her worries with her mother, who was just barely old enough to remember Pearl Harbor. In fact, the sneak attack that drug America into World War II was at the very dawn of her earliest memories. The idea that threats lurked everywhere in the world was so ingrained in her, Kristina knew there was no point in arguing about Bush and his wars.

Thankfully the news went to a different topic, but it was a topic gruesome in of itself. Not only was this latest news morbid, but it was, relatively speaking, closer to home.

Federal Correctional Institution Fort Dix New Jersey August 31, 2003

“Kill a couple punks out there for me!” Milton’s cellmate said, giving him a fist bump. Milton smiled and nodded as the cell door shut behind him for the last time.

Michael didn’t say a word when Milton walked by. He just stood behind his bars and stared. It was as though he wasn’t even looking at Milton, he was looking past him, past the guards, past the prison wall into some nightmarish future only he could see. For all the horror Milton had seen and conducted in his own life, he was glad he’d never have to see that stare again.

“Look at this guy!” Another inmate shouted from behind their bars. “Looking sharp brother,” the inmate said, admiring Milton’s suit, “as sharp as a blade, a saw blade!”

Milton was surprised his suit still fit after all these years. In fact, now it was a little baggy on him. He was still a large man, but he’d lost his belly in prison. 

Jason didn’t look at him. He sat on his cot as his deformed face looked away. Fred looked though, his charred face peered out from his cell, his eyes filled with hate. “You’ll never escape me.” he taunted while tapping the bars. “You’ll see me in your nightmares.”

“How’s your gut their Fred?” Milton mockingly patted his own side. His would be assailant still had his wound wrapped in gauze. Fred was always so melodramatic, but Milton was never scared of him during all these years he was behind bars, and for the rest of his life he was certain he wouldn’t even give him a second thought.

The air smelled sweet and the sun washed over Milton’s face as the metal gates shut behind him. After all these years, Milton was now a free man. Walking out the gate, an old white van sat waiting for him. His mother couldn’t wait to get out. The door didn’t even shut as she rushed towards him and gave him a big motherly hug. Through frilled sleeves Milton felt his mother’s arms wrapped tight around him. He embraced her back as his father joined the two of them saying. “You’ll never have to look at this awful place again.”

“Two men looked out from prison bars.” Milton recited, “One saw the mud, the other saw stars; Dale Carnegie.”

“Good to see you didn’t lose your damn mind in there.” His father jested. 

“You lost some weight though.” His mom cackled and poked her son’s belly. “Didn’t they give you enough to eat in there?”

“Every time you visited, I told you how awful the food was.” Milton laughed as the three got entered the van.

“I wouldn’t know.” His father observed. “No one ever snitched on me!”

“Well let’s get you something to eat then.” said mother as she turned the ignition. “I know just the place.”

Plainfield Wisconsin, August 31, 2003

Little Johnny never told a soul about what he heard that night that was so many years ago. Looking back at it now, that evening had a bigger effect on him than he realized. That night he fully understood that there were real bad people in the world, and they weren’t just in far-away places like the war or the big city; they could be the person next door. It never occurred to him until just now, but that night probably ingrained the idea in him that he had to protect his home, and probably led to him becoming a cop.

Just before he started the press conference, he remembered his father’s warning. Now, almost half a century later, as he looked out over this army of reporters, he now fully understood what his father wanted to avoid.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “earlier this month two Waushara County workers accidentally discovered a mass grave just outside of our town of Plainfield. The remains of ten people were found. We understand the panic that this created both in the community and in law enforcement. There’ve been rampant rumors of a killer on the loose and all manner of stories. Today, it is my duty, and my burden, to reveal the truth. It is a truth my family has kept secret for decades.” There was an audible gasp in the audience, but for just a moment, he did not focus on the crowd of reporters in front of him. Instead, he looked to his right, where his father stood. Roger nodded his head towards his son. Jonathan was so greatful that his father was always supportive of him. During the last few weeks, they had many long talks. Jonathan also had a chat with a friend of Rogers who was a famous movie director, with whom he and his own father had a personal connection to this long buried secret.

Decades ago, Roger Jonathan feared this tiny town becoming a circus, but with what had just been uncovered, that was happening anyway. Now, it was time to reveal the truth.

Jonathan told the reporters how the land these bodies were uncovered on once was the property of a man named Edward Gein. In the late 1950’s, Jonathan’s father, along with the county sheriff, who’d passed away over ten years ago now, had accidentally discovered that Gein had been grave robbing, and had done shocking and awful things to the remains. At the time, they suspected Gein of robbing from nine local graves.

After his initial statement, he spottedan attractive and familiar looking reporter in the crowd. “Vanita Williams,” she identified herself when called upon. There’s been a lot of speculation about the controversial Texas Chainsaw movie and its connection with the Dahmer murders. The Kohler family lived not far away here. Is it possible that director George Kohler knew about this mass grave?”

“Ma’am I am not here to comment on movies and movie directors, I am here to talk about what’s been discovered.”

“Ten human remains have been found.” Vanita blurted out her follow up question. “But you said nine of them were taken from local cemeties. What about the tenth?”

The sheriff took a deep breath before answering. “The tenth closes a missing person’s case from 50 years back.” 

“And what case would that be?” Vanita asked anxiously.

The name he spoke sent a shiver through two members of the radio audience. “Mary Hogan.”

“Mom, did you hear that?” Kristina’s mother looked out the window, pretending she hadn’t, but the shock on her face was apparent. “Mom, did you know about this?” 

“Why would I know anything about that?” she said, “I’ve never even been to Wisconsin!” and it was true, she hadn’t been.

“Well, I was looking through your papers, Mary Hogan was the name you kept looking up.” Kristina’s hands gripped the wheel before she asked. “Was she your mom?”

“I don’t know,” Marilyn answered, shaking her head, “maybe, I don’t know. I looked a little bit but I never got far.”

“But, when I looked over your stuff it looked like you traced her from Springfield to Joliet Indiana to Chicago, then it was like you just stopped looking.”

“I stopped looking when I had you, honey I had bigger things to worry about!” Marilyn said in frustration as she looked at the road. “Now forget about this and get us home.”

“No, you didn’t stop looking when you had me!” Kristina insisted. Marilyn didn’t mean to lie, she desperately tried to convince her daughter, to convince herself, of some other truth, but her flesh and blood wasn’t having it. “I remember you still looking for her, I even helped you. Remember when I was a kid you took me to the library, and we were looking through old newspapers together?”

Marylin knew her daughter was right, but she shook her head again. “I don’t know.” She did remember, but she wished so much that both of them hadn’t.

“I remember when you and dad took a trip to Illinois. That was when,” a tear now ran down her cheek. “That’s when dad died in the accident.”

Now her own mother was crying. Turning the dial on the car radio she protested “Why do you have to bring this up, and get your poor mother all upset?”

Pulling into their driveway Kristina said “I’m sorry mom, I just have to know. Are you sure you didn’t go to Wisconsin?”

She put her hand on her hip, winced in pain. “I’m sorry honey, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s OK mom. Does your hip hurt again?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“What is it then?” Kristina asked as she turned the ignition off.

Taking a deep breath, she said quietly, “Sounded like she went from one monster to another.”

“What?”

Finally it seemed there was some mercy from the pressure and guilt she had stored up inside. her. “I’m so sorry honey.” With each word she let out felt like more weight being lessened from her shoulders. “I thought I was doing it to protect you.”

“Do what mom?”

“It wasn’t in a car accident.”

A cold sweat ran through Kristina’s body. When she was a young girl her parents were in a car accident that took the life of her father. Thoughout her childhood, she had so many questions, but her mom never wanted to talk about it. As an adult, Kristina never pressed the issue, it wouldn’t have brought her dad back anyway, but here her mom just told her there was no accident. Kristina now only had one question.

“Then what happened to my dad?”