A Murder in Mayberry

Part 8/4) Bernie Hunts

Bernie was not earning any teacher of the year awards this year. She was so distracted by William's disappearance that her students were suffering. She had uncharacteristically already missed three weeks of school in her search for William. She followed leads as far as Asheville to the west and as far north as Richmond, Virginia. She visited the mental ward in a hospital in Winston-Salem in hopes that William had been "rescued" again. She called and visited homeless shelters in a hundred mile radius. She searched and organized searches. She created posters and posted them all over town.

Bernie went to the Mount Airy News office and begged them to run another article. Her friend, Geoffrey Guthrie, ran an article before the office burned. Then, he had the courage to have a heart to heart talk with Bernie. He told her that maybe William was gone, really gone, and maybe they needed to start looking for his body, so they could bring him home to his family. Bernie cried. Geoffrey cried. He begged her forgiveness for being so blunt. She said he was a good friend, and she appreciated his honesty.

Bernie changed her focus. She was not going to have William laying in the woods somewhere. She was going to bring him home. Her mission became no longer rescue, but recovery. Bernie scoured the country on days she had off and after school. Her once too skinny legs got stronger as she walked mile after mile. She wore out a pair of hiking boots looking and walking and looking and walking. She spent all her spare time looking and walking. No William.

Bernie had a map she used and each day she highlighted the ground she covered.

As she walked and searched, she had a lot of time to think. She prepared herself mentally for what she might find. It did not matter how bad it could be. William needed to be found. She thought about the second chance she had been given and how she blew it. If she had it to do over, she would grab William and never let him go.

One Saturday on a cold day in February, she came upon Smelly Freddy in the woods. Smelly Freddy told her where to find William. He told her he'd already told another guy. He didn't know his name, the guy didn't tell him, but he described Uncle Charles. Bernie felt an emotion she had not had in a long time. She felt anger. She was furious. She was outraged. She was breathing fire. She cussed. That damn, meddling Uncle Charles. He was trying to control her life, just like he controlled Aunt Bea. He was keeping information from her. He lied to her. She went to see Uncle Charles.

Uncle Charles and Aunt Bea were having lunch when Bernie dropped by.

"What's the latest," asked Beatrice as she sipped her sweet tea. "Where all have you been today? Any word?"

Bernie said, "I went towards the quarry today, out past the school." She looked to see if Uncle Charles reacted. Nothing. He kept right on eating his ham sandwich, cool as a cucumber.

He spoke, "When are you going to give up on this mission, my dear? The man is gone."

"Charles, don't be so insensitive," said Aunt Bea, "No one can stand in the way of true love."

Not true, thought Uncle Charles, done it plenty of times.

Bernie unable to hold her tongue another minute blurted out, "I was back behind the school, when guess who I came across?" She did not wait for an answer but continued. "Smelly Freddy. And you know what he said. He said you had already been out there, Uncle Charles, and that he told you where William was living, and that you went out there." She continued talking faster and faster the madder she got. "I went out there too and you know what I found?" She didn't wait for an answer. " A camp, a camp with William's backpack, but no William. Where is he, and why did you not tell me you saw him?"

"Is this true?" asked Aunt Bea. "Charles?"

Charles paused and put his drink down, "I didn't tell you because I didn't see him. He was gone. It looked like he left his things. I feared the worst. I could not bear to give you the bad news, my precious. I did not want to be the one you remembered who told you that your William is gone and, even though I think he is a bad match for you, I do not want to see your heart break in two. I did not want to be the messenger. The messenger with bad news."

"Oh, Uncle Charles, where do you think he is?" asked Bernie her lip quivering.

"My dear, I fear he is dead," said Uncle Charles. "Probably in one of those quarry pits. They're hundreds of feet deep. Could have been an accident, who knows?"

Bernie began to sob.

"Charles, do you always have to be so blunt?" asked Aunt Bea as she tried to comfort Bernie by wrapping her arms around her. "She's got to have some kind of hope."

"Someone has to tell the girl," said Charles as he watched sobbing Berne who was actually wringing her hands in despair with snot running down her cheeks. I swear, he thought, if she keeps it up, my precious or not, she can join him.

On the other side of the swinging doors, in the kitchen was Rose Marie who had listened to the conversation and was now listening to Bernie cry to the point that she was hiccuping.

"Pobrecito," Rose Marie muttered. "Senor Charles es loco y sin corazon. Poor Bernie and poor William."

Something must be done. Rose Marie had to help. William must be set free. He must be returned to his Bernie.