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Hush Little Babies

The town is a hush, as the people frown...

By Suzy BohiPublished 4 years ago 9 min read
1

Chapter Eight

“Good day, Mrs. Fitzberg,” I said.

“Just call me, Daisy,” she replied, and, good morning to you.”

I started straightening newspapers. I knew there were, many more headlines, I hadn’t read yet, that pertained to the disappearances.

I found one headline, in 1999 that read: MISHELLE WARNERS FIVE-YEAR-OLD MISSING. Little Jeremy Warner, was taken, from his Mother on the street, during a car crash. No news yet, as to who could be involved in the abduction, but Sheriff John Granger, is on the job.

“Aha!” A newspaper from 1996, headlines read: JOSHUA JONES’ BABY MISSING FROM CRIB. Joshua Jones went to say, good morning and wish Baby Josh “Jones jr., a Happy Birthday, two years old this morning, when in his despair, he was not there.

“Oh brother, I said, who writes this stuff?” Ya da, ya da, ya, da, I thought, same ole, same ole. “Can’t anyone see, that, this isn’t normal,” I mumbled.

Digging deeper into the pile, 1997, headlines read: SEVENTH & EIGHTH DISAPPEARANCES IN CLINTONVILLE, SINCE 1993. Cheryl Coffee, went to pick up her son, Joey, from preschool, today and was told by the teacher, Miss Jergen, that he was waiting outside with the rest of the children, when she noticed he was missing. Miss Jergens’ only reply, when questioned, said, “She assumed, her mother had picked him up.”

Kenneth and Shellie Stone, were going sailing, with one-year-old, Kelly, this morning, for the first time, since, Kelly was born. They went to get her, from the car seat, after packing up the boat, but Kelly was not there.

Ya da, ya da, ya da. Could there be a serial kidnapper, on the loose, in Clintonville, and so on and so on. No clues, no one saw anything, nada!

“Unbelievable,” I murmured.”

Reading on: 1994, newspaper headlines: JENNIFER SIDOW, MISSING FROM HOSPITAL.

Lefty and Kerry Sidow, went to pick up their daughter, Jennifer Sidow, after a well-deserved tonsillectomy, when they were told, Jennifer’s sister picked her up two hours earlier . Debbie Sidow, claimed, she was Jennifer’s, sister, and she had a signed consent, form letter, from Jennifer’s parents to take Jennifer home.

According to Nurse Betty, “Jennifer Sidow, agreed, Debbie was her sister.” Nurse Betty was the only one working the late shift, and gives description of Debbie Sidow. “Long blonde hair, small framed lady, big brown eyes and wire-rimmed glasses.”

If anyone knows the whereabouts of anyone matching this description, call Sheriff John Granger, immediately at (715) 555-2222, Sheriff’s Department, Clintonville, Wisconsin.

NOTE to myself; Remember to ask Sheriff Johnny, about this Debbie Sidow. This has to be a significant clue.

“Man, how time flies,” I said, while my stomach, was growling.

I went over to the Sheriffs place, to try and collect on my rain check. I figured, it was pay up time.

“I’d be glad to get out of the office, for a while,” he said.

The deli, was made out of an old train station, with booths in-between seats. It was quite unique, if I must say so, myself. There was only room for about, seven couples, and three up to the bar to eat, at one time.

Let’s face it, I thought, this wasn’t Grand Central Station. It was done up in reds and whites, with cute little bows, tied around the curtains.

The waitress, finally came to our corner, as if she had so many other people, to attend to!

“Candy,” said Sheriff Johnny, smiling.

“Johnny,” said Candy, handing the sheriff the menu, while ever so slightly, rubbing her hand on his, and then she took, our drink order.

They didn’t have what the Sheriff ordered, so he had to rethink, his drink order. “Sheriff, you know, we don’t sell, liquor, in the deli,” Candy, reprimanded. Somehow, I think he knew that, considering I found him at TJ’s a couple of days ago.

I ordered the special of the day, Toasted Ham and Cheese and substituted, French Fries for Curly Fries.

“Of course, you can dear. This is Clintonville, nothings carved in stone here,” she said, with an eccentric tone in her voice.

The sheriff ordered, a juicy Clintonburger, with Mushrooms, and waved the onions.

I slowly goaded Sheriff Johnny to talk about the disappearances in Clintonville. I brought up Debbie Sidow. He wasn’t exactly, overjoyed, to hear that name.

“Cripes, woman, you really must, get around, if you know anything about, Debbie Sidow. Cripes sake, that names a blast from the past, ya know?” he said, sadly.

He glared at me, for what seemed, several minutes, and then started, with, the Debbie Sidow story.

“Back in February of ’94, there was a woman, named Jessica Tilly. She had a 3-year-old daughter, named Monica, whom she called Sissy. Sissy, was playing outside, near the old bridge, where Jessica, could see her, from her living room, window. She went to the kitchen for a drink of water, and when she looked out the kitchen window, Sissy was nowhere in sight.

Jessica, ran outside, called for Sissy, and thought she saw Sissy’s pink coat, in the creek. She jumped into the creek, and ran down to see what was lying in the water. It was Sissy, she had either been hit by a car, or beaten severely with a heavy blunt object.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“I say that, because, there were no gouges nor any, blood to speak of,” he interjected. “We couldn’t be sure what really, took place that afternoon. The infant was shipped to Wausau; where the coroner performed an autopsy, on her little bruised and broken body.”

“Jane Plover, the Coroner, said, the baby had been beaten, till dead.”

“Mister and Mrs. Sidney Tilly, were our only suspects. We questioned Jessica and her husband, and, after gathering all the evidence and questioning anyone, we could find, we came to the conclusion, that Jessica Tilly was, ‘crazy as a loon.’

“Jessica went to court, was found criminally insane and was incarcerated for several months with mandatory counseling from her psychiatrist who would recommend further treatment.” Now, mind you, we found no evidence or clues, nothing that could prove she had anything to do with Sissy’s death, but she was slammed with child neglect,” said the Sheriff.

“Jessica Tilly went bat shit crazy. Her husband left her and now we see her roaming the streets of Clintonville, calling for her daughter. She blames everyone in town. Doctors’ say she hasn’t the capability to hurt anyone. They claim she doesn’t even know what day it is. She lives in a fantasy world and Clintonville is her enemy.

“But, what does that story, have to do with Debbie Sidow?” I asked, confused.

Sheriff Johnny, continued. “I suspected, that Jessica Tilly, and Debbie Sidow, were one and the same person; but I could never prove it.”

“What happened to her husband?” I asked.

“He moved out of Clintonville, many years ago,” Sheriff Johnny, replied. “We haven’t seen him since.”

“Oh, goodness, I said, look at the time. I’ve got to get back to work. Thanks Sheriff, for lunch and the chit chat. Sorry to eat and run. See you later.”

I walked as fast as I could, so that maybe, I wouldn’t be overdue, at the library. Then I noticed, that same small little woman, I saw a few days ago, staring at me, from behind a small shop. I stopped and stared back with intensity, and wonder. “Could this be the infamous, Jessica Tilly/Debbie Sidow,” I wondered. I didn’t have time to stop and talk. “Damn,” I said. “I hope I see her again, soon. Maybe she’ll give me some new insight, regarding these cases.”

I arrived back at the library, safe and sound, as Mrs. Fitzberg, didn’t even notice, I’d left.

While I was sorting newspapers, Mrs. Fitzberg, asked, “Could you, please, help me file some returned books? They’re in an awful mess.”

I stepped behind the book case and saw an atrocious mess of books, books and more books. I asked, “How did these get here?”

“They’ve been piling up for a while,” she answered.

I couldn’t remember, when the last person, stopped in to check out a book, so, where did all these books come from, I thought.

I started, by alphabetizing them. When I had finished, alphabetizing them, I put them on the book stroller and began putting them away, in their corresponding places. While pushing the book cart, several books slid to the floor. One of the books, opened up to the front where I noticed the date stamped, on the book was from 1996.

“What the heck, I mumbled, Mrs. Fitzberg, sure was a lazy librarian. I was almost done, with the pile, when I decided to check the date on another book. Last check out, in 1994. Okay, I thought, this is unusual. When I opened the rest of them, they were all stamped with belated dates. “Well, I guess, I am just over reacting,” I mumbled. I finished the rest of the book filing, and my work day was over.

I asked, “Mrs. Fitzberg, Could I come in on Saturday, and straighten up some more.”

She replied, reaching into a drawer, “I’m not open on Saturday, but I’ll give you this extra key.”

“Good night, Mrs. Fitzberg,“ I said. “Have a great weekend.”

“Yes, thank you,” she replied, and off I went.

Jeffrey, wasn’t expecting me home for another hour, so, I walked around town for as long as I could, before heading home. I had hoped to see the “Watcher” again, but she didn’t make an appearance.

I arrived home fifteen minutes, before Jeffrey, so, I started dinner. Spaghetti, was on the menu, for tonight. It was quick and easy. I’d had quite the exasperating day and all I wanted to do was, relax.

I turned on some soft music, and waited for the water to boil.

Jeffrey walked in, gave me a kiss, and asked, “How was your day, Love?”

I appeased him, by telling him, a partial story of what I had accomplished. I purposely, omitted the intriguing, episodes only to save the evening, from being a total disaster.

I dropped the noodles into the water, started the sauce, and garlic bread, and pored us both a glass of red wine.

As I handed Jeffrey his wine, he proceeded to tell me about his day. Meanwhile I was dishing out the food. His day, wasn’t quite as relentless, as mine, but it was right up there.

He said,” I’m working, on a case, regarding a child molester and wife beater.”

Jeffery despised, defending people, he thought were guilty, “All he could do was his best, he would say.”

We ate dinner in peaceful indulgence and retired early that evening.

Jeffrey put his hands up my gown, and touched my thigh, ever so slightly. Kissed me softly on the lips and rubbed me gently, in that certain place where any woman would plead, “don’t stop.” We made love intensely that evening, like we hadn’t done in a ‘coons age’, that being a saying a Wisconsinite would speak. Wisconsonites, analogize everything with animals. If you can’t hunt it, trap it, catch it on a hook, or drink it, they’ll sit around over a cold brewski and figure out how you can!”

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About the Creator

Suzy Bohi

Suzy Bohi, has two published books. 'Hush Little Babies' and 'The Terror Zone' Watch for her 2nd installment to 'The Terror Zone', titled 'Don't Say a Word'.

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