Finding Right

By Samantha Madison Langley

Innocence Lost….


Turmoil…against the trials of good and evil, ingrained beliefs verses realty. Emily has lived under the church umbrella. She lives the intoxicating life of the pure innocence of the preacher's daughter. She lives each day in the new green of Spring, in the vibrant colors of the trees in the fall and in the Sun coming through the window in the midst of the rain. The newness that a child can be blessed with, fades as the reality of puberty comes upon them and they are forced to find they're different. The beauty that is seen in everyone is no longer the case. The days that have been golden are fast tarnishing with the daily turbulence at the school. Treadwell, a small town school suffers the consequences of development. Obscure from the media, this middle school is soon plagued with national coverage due to it's questionable accidents resulting in one student's coma and an apparent suicide. Is it bullying or a unfortunate set of circumstances?

The town people wonder how this could happen in a small town. Parents find that no one is really safe, everyone has an agenda and all wonder "what if?" as the town falls apart brick by brick.

When loneliness and doubt stifles Emily, the heavens send a messenger to watch over her and deliver the answers that she cries for.

This novel brings out the best, the questionable, and the very worst in humanity.

What do you do when your foundation crumbles and you wonder what is real?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781543980585

Book preview

©All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Print ISBN 978-1-54398-057-8

eBook ISBN 978-1-54398-058-5

chapters

It All Starts Here on a Summer Day

A New Era

First Day at Treadwell

Another Day

To School or Not to School

Donna Muskoff Daniels

The Other Side of Town

John E. Berringer Investments

At home in hot water

Berringer’s Bliss

Sunday

Another Day at Treadwell

In Search of Transformation

Come Saturday Morning

Change of View

A Search for Solice

Sunday morning

Home safe Home

The Worst Monday

The Plight for Answers

An Investment in Quiet

A Call for John Berringer

A Come Back

Pressure cracks appear

The Inquisition

Deal of the Day

The First Lead

A Shocking Visit

Across Town

An Uphill Battle

The Stand-off

Tides are Changing

Sunday

Berringer Investments

Things Start to Crumble

Heading to Where

Decisions

The Breaking Point

The Day in Court

Justice For Donna

Ten Years Later

About the Author

It All Starts Here on a Summer Day

It was a time of adolescence, rebellion and questioning. All of the ideals that were ingrained since childhood, were put to the test. Amidst the town upheaval, the desperation, violence, and bullying lie a hatred of differences so extreme that some lived generations without acknowledging it. The roots of bigotry ran deep. Suddenly life and values would change for the families of a small town community. The safe haven of the Vanderbilt grade school was lost to the students moving up to the abounding turmoil at Treadwell middle school. Life as it was once known would never be the same. It was the dawning of a new life…the way it shouldn’t be.

Coldenham, is a hamlet in the town of Treadwell. It may as well be a postcard for small town America. This early 1900’s village stood as a proud recollection of yesteryear with it’s pristine vintage buildings and tiny shops. Life was easy here. Suddenly the growth that no one ever wanted was upon them. Coldenham, once cherished, now seemed to be the place that time forgot. People were drawn to the mega malls just a few miles down the road. It was totally confusing. Life was simple one day and then it wasn’t.

The corner barbershop, Howard’s Clip Shop, still stood proud with the red and white striped cylinder, much like a candy cane. The barbershop was the news center for the same group of grumpy old men that followed family tradition from the time they had their first haircut. The place hummed today with those waiting for their zip cut and others seeking just to engage in the latest gossip from the town crier, Howard the barber. Time was spent yearning for the past, complaining about the present and vilifying the future. This was not a transient community. This was a home town, where people stayed, raised their families and were buried in the village cemetery at the bottom of the hill behind the church. They could speak about the past here, because they lived it.

Howard’s shop was second only to the local diner where everything from politics to the latest fishing trip to NASCAR were the hot topics. This was a standalone old silver metal diner, quite historic, actually. It was aptly named The Coffee House. The walls were lined with the pictures of old stars from the 30’s to James Dean in the 50’s. There were the silver trimmed stools that spun around until the noisy children would either get sick or fall off. Small town diners most surely have their fill of the children that no one has bothered to discipline. The waitress maneuvered around the kids, and the men with their feet in the aisle and the cramped tables, trying patiently to get all their orders in quickly. Sally, the waitress who looked much past her age, was a comic with the fast answers to every question. She was adept at shutting out the background noise that was extremely annoying to anyone that wasn’t a regular. To be honest, Sally probably developed the ability to block out the background noise to avoid going deaf. Those in this old diner seemed to think that it was an informal place for informal behavior. The groups of the blue collared workmen, and the good old boys hung out to have their morning coffees. They would complain, then argue over the complaints, then complain again and then suddenly claim to have to go. Many of them rushed to where? Usually to the next stop for coffee or even the Clip Shop. There were benches along the sidewalks in front of the shops. They were a meeting place for the elders during the good weather. People watching was recreation in Coldenham. Saying Good Day was the norm to passerbys.

At the center of town was the county hall with the clock tower that stood on the green. This was a center that you would see as a Norman Rockwell print. The architecture was typical of the famous clocktower in Back to the Future, one of the best known family movies of it’s time.

Emily Pinkney sat on the lawn in the square, adoring the large clock tower. She took the time to embrace her father’s approval to wander a bit for the day. This was not the everyday right of passage. Emily was the teen of the town preacher. She had to always behave properly and be beyond reproach. She loved sitting in the village square just watching the people and taking in the beauty of the old country church that sat majestically in the main intersection of the village right across from the square. Her church, as she called it, was a pristine white building with a tall steeple and a beautifully arched stained glass window over it’s entrance. She loved the sound of the bell that rang before each service. When she was a toddler, the church looked almost intimidating to her. It stood as a monument to the 10 commandments that she had learned by the time she was 5 years old. The open hall with the many rows of pews on both sides felt like a long walk to the pulpit of judgment where her father would give his Sunday sermons. The words would echo through the church with the beautifully arched ceilings with massive wood beams. The story was that the rooflines, permitted the ceilings to arch in this manner to a peak at the top, as they were created to copy the bottom of Noah’s ark. At any rate, the Pastor’s deep voice resonated throughout the church. When the choir would sing,the sound was angelic and Emily loved it. The sweetness of the voices would lighten and enrich the spirit. It seemed quite magical to a small child. Now she had grown out of the preschool years and even grade school. The unquestioning, blind amazement had changed to a quest for knowledge of how this building and the commandments really fit into everyone’s daily lives. Why was there a smaller part of the community than she remembered, in the pews on Sunday. She wondered. Emily remembered a full church. Glancing around past the church back onto the green, she watched the children running through the grass. She watched them throwing the ball for their big red dog. She was so beautiful.

If only to have a dog. she sighed.

Now it was time to move on. Emily had a day to do whatever she would like. She was deciding to just tour her village and soak up everything she saw.

Emily was the daughter of Constance Pinkney the cosmetologist at the beauty shop. This was not even a block down the street just kitty corner from the barber shop. The beauty shop aptly named Today’s Chic unfortunately included those no longer devoted to one shop. Today the ladies would come by for socialization not necessarily service. They would browse through the magazines in hopes of finding the fountain of youth and the latest miracle that promised to make them beautiful. They would eavesdrop to see if anyone uttered a secret that would make them look like their favorite movie star or celebrity. Sometimes before and after pictures would hang on the front windows for advertising and to make the customers feel extra special. Emily told her Mom she really believed that most of the time the before pictures looked much better than the after ones. Constance would look shocked, then slightly insulted. After thinking a second, she would start to laugh and say.

In some cases I must agree, but it would be wrong to tell them such a thing and hurt their feelings.

She never mentioned that if it be known the women would never return to the shop again. In any event, that’s where Emily’s mother worked five days a week. She would tell them how wonderful they looked and be sure to make them want to come back the following week. Sometimes that was a difficult order. There was a great variety of clientele at the shop. Older women that wished to look younger. Younger women that wanted to look more sophisticated and worldly. Little girls that were brought in by their Mommies that wanted them to be the remake of Shirley Temple. This was a tall order for the typical kid. Emily giggled to herself. Never did one of the girls look remotely like Shirley Temple. In spite of the that knowledge, Constance had still become a real pro at ring curls. No one ever really seemed happy with being who they were. Emily knew that she was ordinary and would not be able to rid herself of the ugly, frizzy, red hair that she had been born with. She hated the freckles on her face and arms that she felt made her look like a Leper. She was only 14 years old, though, and thankfully the other kids evidently didn’t notice. They liked her anyway. It was a warm August morning and she enjoyed just walking down the main street. People would sometimes stop to say hello and tell her how rare her bright red locks were. Rare or not she hated them. She had one thing that she was thankful for. Thank God her mother didn’t want to make her look like Shirley Temple! Although she cursed her hair, at least she didn’t have ring curls and bows to draw attention to it.

Emily felt ownership of her village. It just screamed of what a perfect hometown should be. She was proud to be able to live here. Today she had $3.00 that was left on the table with a note. Emily knew exactly what she would do with it. Of course, her Mom and Dad also knew. Her father could precisely outline Emily’s day. A trip to the five and dime was always in order. Michael Pinkney, Emily’s father, was the town’s pastor and worked at the sawmill during the week. Being from a family of Brits, he was driven to do the best he could for his family. This meant not giving them things, but giving them stability, love and the environment to grow into solid, respectable adults. Respectable was a word that was important to both Michael and Constance. As Emily’s parents, they preached being respectable and never the subject of the town gossip. In Coldenham, gossip was rampant. Upstanding was first and foremost in their minds. Emily thought of Sally, the waitress at the Coffee House. She was the girl that everyone whispered about. They stared at her disapprovingly when she attended church on Sunday. Emily didn’t know exactly what was so wrong with Sally, but she knew that it must be terrible to have everyone look at you with such disdain. Sally always worked hard at the Coffee House throughout the week and she would work part time on the weekends. She had to quit school at 15. There was a lot of gossip about why, but it wasn’t important. To Emily she seemed like a kind, but very sad lady. Emily would often go in on the cold mornings and have a hot chocolate. Sally would top with it with the highest peak of whipped cream and a cherry. She would wait for a response and laugh when Emily’s eyes widened and the smile came across her face. She told Emily how lucky she was to be young.

Emily, never quit school and always set your sights high. Just remember that you can do whatever you set your mind to. Sally would tell her this when she had a second to linger over the counter.

It was never understood, why this very pretty, but sad girl thought she was old and that she had no other options than this diner. Emily felt somehow drawn to Sally, as she seemed to be the most down to earth adult she came in contact with. Although she would normally love to see Sally today, Emily was on a mission.

There it was… the FW Woolworth store that sat on the edge of the village, just past Today’s Chic. This was the local five and dime store. Since Michael Pinkney was a history buff, Emily knew the history of Woolworth’s well. It was founded in 1878 in Western NewYork by Fred Winfield Woolworth. It failed within a year and re-opened in Lancaster, Pennsylvania in 1879 as the Woolworth’s Great Five Cent Store. The FW Woolworth’s in their town was the beginning of the great department store evolution that was taking place in the developing side of the Treadwell. New stores, like Montgomery Wards, JCPenney and K-Mart were starting to pop up. Although their size dwarfed the Woolworth’s store, Emily and the town people still preferred this local five and dime. Coldenham was the blue collar part of Treadwell that represented the man with solid work ethic and the ideals of yesterday. At any rate, Woolworth was just ahead. Walking into this store seemed overwhelming when she was 10 year old. Now it seemed just right.

Things that seem large when we’re young, suddenly start to shrink as we age. Everything seems bigger when you’re young. Her father told her.

She wondered how that happened. If something was big, then it was big. At almost 15 years old, she found that Woolworth didn’t seem quite as large, but it was still an irresistible place. It’s just too much to muddle my mind with today. Emily thought. Emily knew where she was going. Down the isle past the paper and pens, past the yarn and materials and then past the cleaning supplies to the right side of the store. There was the long counter with the little booths for two. Still being height challenged, she could barely see above the counter without wedging between the little foot step and the stool. She peeked over to look at what was displayed there. This was the one place where the children would go to take a chance to see what their banana split would cost. It was so much fun! There were a line of balloons strung above the counter. You would pick a balloon and pop it and that’s the price you would pay for your ice cream. The top price for this work of art was 99 cents. Then there was Charlie, the man who worked behind the counter. He was a cheerful man and resembled Santa Claus, with a white beard and white curly hair.

Em, what are you doing today? Want to pop another balloon?

An older couple sat down a few stools, sharing a hamburger and fries. He winked at them and then asked her.

How old are you? And I forgot what you told me about this store. When did it open? And who was the founder?

Emily lit right up and she relayed the history of Woolworths. The people laughed and even clapped for her. She felt special. The balloon that she picked was on the end of the counter and it was a dark pink one.

It popped and Charlie, with a big grin asked Well what do you think?

Emily didn’t know so she guessed Fifty cents

Okay, now you have a big decision, would you choose Fifty cents or what this ticket says? Now she was in a quandary.

I choose to pay the lowest price. Emily answered with a smile.

Charlie and the couple laughed hardily at her quick response.

Smart girl!

He showed her the tag inside. She read fifteen cents. This was her lucky day. Now the big grin was on Emily’s face. She waited and watched as Charlie performed his work of art. A full banana sliced in three long strips filled the bottom of the banana boat. Then three perfectly rounded scoops of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ice cream lay on top of it. Then the toppings. Hot fudge was over the chocolate, fresh strawberries over the strawberry ice cream and pineapple sauce over the vanilla. With the mounds of whipped cream and a cherry in the center, she had just went to heaven! As she swooned over the vast bowl in front of her, she found herself thinking why this perfection is so short lived. Before she would get to the ice cream, the whole thing would start to melt away. An early lesson that everything perfect does not last. It must be savored in the instant it exists.

If only there were a friend here, she would share this wonderful treat. Although she thought that she shouldn’t be able to consume this whole big boat, she knew she would finish the whole thing anyway. A wave of guilt came over her, as her mom suggested repeatedly that she was gaining too much weight for her age. It really isn’t fair, as they said I could use the $3.00 for a treat. I should at least be able to pick the treat, Emily thought as she felt her mother’s disapproving look over her shoulder while she was pounding away this very delectable dessert. Emily was becoming conscious of how the fat kids were treated in school. They hadn’t seen her as fat throughout the years at school. However, when she was school shopping this year, her Mom pointed her to the X aisle, for chubby girls. Well how much damage can one banana split do? She asked herself. Today was only one day and Emily would deal with that tomorrow.

Within a couple of weeks school would start. She walked down to the end of Main Street and across Bancroft Way and down the road to School Lane. There it was. The very massive brick building, that was Treadwell Middle School. It was so much bigger than Vanderbilt Grade School. She looked at this school that awaited her. As curiosity overtook her, she went to the front door. It was locked. Why shouldn’t it be. It was only the middle of August. She thought as she wandered to the side doors. No luck. Maybe she could at least see the rooms if she stood on that metal box under the window on the first floor. Half jumping and half crawling she perched on the box and could just see into the room. It was apparently a class room, but much larger than any of the rooms at Vanderbilt. There were blackboards on two walls that were larger than the room she had spent the past school year in. There were so many seats. She started counting and got to 30. She couldn’t get over having that many classmates in one class. Imagine that I will have 6 periods like this. The thought was terrifying. Still looking for more information, she wandered around the back of the school. On going to the rear door, she tried the door. It was also locked. Suddenly a loud commanding voice startled her. Emily turned with the guilt showing all over her face. There was this very large, black man that sounded imposing, and stern.

And what exactly would you be doing here? Vandalism, perhaps?

Emily suddenly felt sick to her stomach and felt the blood draining from her face.

No, oh no.. she muttered with her voice crackling…almost feeling like she would cry. Well then, what is it? Why would you be so interested in this building to try every door and then jump onto the compressor to try to break in through the windows?

NO, NO, I was just trying to see the classrooms and the building inside. I wasn’t trying to break the windows or even to break in. It’s going to be my first year here and I was curious. Now I’m frightened too! Are you going to arrest me and tell my parents?

He started to laugh and suddenly was not so frightening. He looked her straight in the eyes.

Let this be a lesson, you should not wander around, trying doors and climbing to look into windows. People think security. It’s always an issue. They see you doing these things and wonder. It usually isn’t good. Are you aware of the vandalism that exists? No, I mean no. Where does it exist?

It can exist anywhere nowadays, but it has existed here at times. Enough for that. My name is Mr. Stone and you can call me Mr. Stonel

It made her laugh. A nervous laugh, but a laugh

nevertheless.

How old are you and what is your name?

Emily. Emily Pinkney. I am 14 years old and will be 15 in a couple of weeks. I’m not sure that I’m going to like this school. It’s so big. My old school was small and the rooms were small and the classes were small….

I get it said Mr. Stone. Everything was small and everything is bigger here. But that might just mean that it’ll be better. Would you like to see the inside of the school? I’ll give you your own personal tour.

Emily lit up with delight.

Really? I would love that!

Of course it’ll still be big, but if she would see it inside, it wouldn’t be so daunting. She might even be able to remember it. Walking down the halls it felt so massive that it made her feel miniscule.

Here’s the trick that I use to never get lost. He said as he started at the far end of the hall and showed her the room numbers.

101 on the left 102 on the right. All even numbers on the right and odd on the left. They walked down the hall. The ceilings were so high. Then to the center stair case. It looked like stone.

The room number before the staircase is 120. On the other side is 122. Now for the second floor. This just mirrors the first floor, but the rooms start with 201 at the far end where we started. Every number is the same and every room is on top of the other except the second floor is the 200 series. The same layout. Now for the cafeteria. It’s opposite the stair case at the middle of the building on the first floor. The gym is down the hall leading to the separate building to the side of this building.

By now, Emily’s head was spinning and felt like it was going to pop off from overload. An added help for you. The lockers on the main floor in the main hallway are for the first year students. There are staircases at each end of the building going up to the second floor. That is just in case you are going from room 101 to 201 or 205 or even 210. It is closer. What do you think?

Heavens, I feel like I could get lost and not find the cafeteria!

He laughed.

I see, Miss, that your priorities are in place! I have some time let’s try this, ok? Your home room is 125 and you are coming in the front door. Where do you go?

Emily looked a minute and retraced her steps to start at the door that they entered. She went in and to the left. She was at the door.

Your second period is room 201.

She went down the hall and to the end staircase and up.

I think that you have got it! and one more thing. If you need anything, you can go to the guidance office that is opposite the cafeteria right here, or if you see me you can always ask.

Emily had a smile and a look that was no longer strained. Mr. Stone saw that.

Thank you, thank you..I’m not sure how to thank you. And thank you for not sending me to jail.

Mr. Stone smiled and he was no longer intimidating, just a big, friendly man.

Just be careful in the future of trying to enter any locked building. Please consider me your first friend here. Also, Emily, I knew immediately that you are a very naive, protected girl. Please always be vigilant of your surroundings and know that there some people in this world who do not have good intentions.

Emily thanked Mr. Stone again with a smile. She felt so special and so privileged to be able to get this tour in advance. She was shown how to find everything. It was amazing. It would be a new experience for her and she was unfamiliar with the ways of middle school. Multiple classes, different teachers, study hall and a locker. She had to change rooms….and only 3 minutes between classes? That probably would not happen. She was overwhelmed at even thinking about this major change for her. She wondered about Mr. Stone’s idea of the world. She was not sure what to think, but she felt sorry for him. His world must have been tainted by something. At any rate she couldn’t wait to tell her Mom and Dad, and Sarah, and Aggy, her two besties since kindergarten. At least for the first few days she might be slow at finding the rooms, but she now knew that she wouldn’t be totally lost. In the event she found one of her friends lost, she might be able to help them.

Everyone will probably be afraid of being lost. Emily sighed.

She walked around the outside of the school to the outside sports area. She sat on the steps and just waited to see if any of her friends would come by. After waiting longer than she anticipated, she strolled back down the roads to Main Street. This was an awesome day! She seemed lighter as she walked down the street. Maybe it was that heavy weight of the fear that she lost. She also made her first new friend at Treadwell Middle School today.

Constance was standing in the doorway of the shop when she saw her daughter walking down the opposite side of the street. She motioned to her to come over. It was fun to stay in the shop for awhile and watch the ridiculous things that some of these people did with their hair. Today was different. Constance wanted to talk about what to do with Emily’s hair. In a panic mode, Emily bid everyone goodbye and without hesitation left the shop. When Emily left, Constance asked the owner of the salon for her opinion of what to do with her daughter’s hair.

I’m so afraid that it will begin to be something that makes her different from her classmates. In today’s world, that’s a horrible place to be.

They talked about straightening and perhaps dying the hair, but didn’t reach a conclusion. She wanted to speak with Michael before doing anything drastic with their daughter’s hair. He was so conservative about changing a child’s appearance for the sake of popularity.

Michael, wearing his Pastor’s hat, would always say If the Lord meant for it to be that way, than that was how it should be. Don’t mess with nature. There is a reason for everything on this Earth. If God made it the way it is, then who are we to change it. Hence, that is why Constance was the plainest lady in the salon. She was a natural beauty with long brown hair and dark eyes, but she never wore make-up. That was extremely odd as she worked in a salon that sold women’s beauty products and cosmetics. It would be a trial, but for Emily’s sake she would speak to Michael by the weekend.

Emily left the salon suddenly feeling like a disappointment. She felt that her mom found it necessary to change her. Why? She had her friends and felt at ease just being her. Did she really like her hair? No, definitely not, but changing herself may draw unwanted attention to her. She would dread that. Her father said..Vanity is the work of the devil. It was so much easier when she was younger. Maybe this is why the church is emptier now.

People can’t live within the confines of the past. She had so many questions. There were just too many questions and no one to answer them.

Anyway, she continued her stroll down the Main Street. Strolling around this peaceful town was something that she truly loved. Her house was just 6 blocks from Main Street on Blackberry Way. The road was named after the farm that originally encompassed the whole area. Blackberries still grew wild in areas along the road. Although left years without attention, they were still sweet. She always looked forward to wandering along the roads and through the side yards to pick bowlfuls. She loved to have them over ice cream or cereal.

The road was a mix of homes from the early 1900’s before the tract housing craze began. Each house looked different. Her house was at the end of the street and had a partial picket fence in the front and a post and rail fence that ran down the sides of the property. The Victorian home had a full front porch and cookie cutter trim along the fascias. Emily seemed to always see the glass half full and saw the house as it could be. It was probably due to the fact that Emily grew up with her father preaching All in Good Time. As long as her friends didn’t seem to notice, she didn’t mind. This was her home and she had her own room since birth. Emily spent much time in this cozy room with tiny pink flowered wallpaper, dreaming of things to come. Of all the things that she dreamed of, she wanted a dog the most. Not just any dog, a very lovable one. One that would be her best friend and sleep with her and spend all of his time at her side. The neighbor boy two houses down had a black labrador. His dog stayed at the end of the drive when he went to school. That dog waited each day at the end of the drive for him to come home. Emily always wondered if the dog actually stayed in that position all day long.

Dogs never judge you. They love you if your hair is red or even if you were bald. She so wanted a dog of her own. Her major problem was that her parents did not see the need to have animals. It was such a waste as they had a wonderful backyard and a barn to play in. A dog would make the family complete. It was lonely being an only child. Having parents seemed like the normal