In Defence of the Need to Punish

• Author: David M. Paciocco
• Pages: 19-46

CHAPTER

2

In

Defence

of the

Need

to

Punish

northern Ontario community

of

Webbwood, "Pop. 600, Home

of

Barbara

Hanley, Canada's

first

female

mayor,"

is a

good place

to

live.

Webbwood

is far

enough west

of

Sudbury

to

avoid

the

poison

that

spews

from

its

nickel mines smelters.

The

town comes upon

you

quickly

as

you

drive down Highway

17.

If you are not

watching

the

road signs

carefully,

you

normally

find

yourself barrelling through

at

highway

speed.

The

Ontario Provincial Police

who are

posted nearby usually have

little

else

to do

other

than back

onto

a

gravel sideroad

to

wait

for

speeding

vehicles

or

clean

up

after

car

accidents.

Irene

and

Anthony Goodchild seemed much like

any

other

family

in

the

community,

although

a

little

better

off

than most. They

both

had

jobs.

Anthony,

like many

men in the

region,

made

his

living

in the

mines.

Irene

worked

at the

Revenue Canada

office

in

Sudbury,

a

beneficiary

of

the

commitment

of the

federal government

to

keep

the

community alive

with regional government

offices

when

the

mining industry began

to sag

in

the

early 1980s. Within

a

year

of

their marriage

in

1982, Irene

and

Anthony were blessed with

a

daughter,

and

then with three more over

the

next

five

years.

The

girls

loved

to

horseback ride

and to

pick

the

blue-

berries

that

grow

as

large

as

grapes

in the

tangled brush along

the

high-

way.

Anthony,

for his

part, took advantage

of

what

the

near north

has to

offer,

spending

his

spare

time

fishing pickerel

or

hunting around

the

many

lakes

and

rivers

that

dot the

region.

By

northern standards,

the

Goodchilds seemed

to be

living

the

good

life.

By

3

June

1994

Irene Goodchild

was

sitting

at her

desk behind

a

blue-cloth divider, wondering

how it had

happened.

How

does

the

death

of

a

marriage come about?

She

held

her

hands

in

front

of her

mouth like

a

teepee, with

her

thumbs resting

on her

chin, thinking back

to the

day,

a

year before, when Anthony found

out

about

her

affair.

She

wondered

whether deep inside

she

wanted

him to

know.

Why

else would

she

have

F

F or those who prefer to avoid the stress of big city living, the small

20

CRIME

AND

PUNISHMENT

left

the

birth control pills

in the

cupboard?

Not

much

of a

clue

for a

hus-

band with

a

vasectomy,

she

chided herself. Would

he

really kill himself?

she

wondered. Would

he

really kill

her if she

took

the

girls? Lord knows

he was

more than hinting

at it. She

thought about

how

close

he was to

the

girls,

and

about

how

they loved him.

She

thought

about

how she had

tried,

going with

him at his

request

to

marriage counselling sessions even

though

she

knew

it was

pointless.

She

felt

it was a bit

pathetic

that

he

kept

on

going

by

himself

after

she

quit.

That

was bad

enough,

but now

things were getting

out of

hand.

His

constant suicide threats were even

more pathetic.

He was

becoming paranoid.

I

can't take

it,

she

thought.

The

constant spying. Accusing

me of

passing

out

lewd photographs

of

myself.

It's

not

doing

the

girls

any

good.

I'm

getting out.

"You

coming,

Irene?"

She

looked

up. It was her

boyfriend.

"Yeah,

let's

go."

Everyone

from

the

office

was

going

to a

barbecue.

It

would

do her

good

to get

away

for a

while.

As

the

evening wore

on,

Irene

was

enjoying herself. Only

the

occa-

sional

phone

call

from

Anthony

was

keeping

her

from

forgetting

it

all.

He

was

becoming progressively more

angry.

Too

late now,

she

thought.

I may

as

well have

a

good time while

I'm

here

and

face

the

music when

I get

home.

"If

he

calls back,"

she

hollered

to the

hostess, "I'm

not

talking

to

him."

Long

after

midnight Anthony called back again. When Irene refused

to

come

to the

phone,

he

asked

the

hostess whether Irene's boyfriend

was

there.

"Yes,

he is,

Anthony."

"Fine.

Tell

her her

bags will

be

packed when

she

gets here."

At

around 5:00 a.m. Irene drove down

the

empty highway

and

turned

her car

slowly

up the

drive, wondering just

how

ugly

it was

going

to be

when

she

went inside.

As the car

lights caught

the

front

lawn,

she

could

see her

clothing strewn

on the

grass.

The

door

was

locked. When

she

tried

the

key, Anthony

was on the

other

side bracing

the

door

shut.

"You're

not

getting in,"

he

bellowed.

"Let

me in or I'm

calling

the

police."

"You're

not

getting in."

She

went next door

and

rang

the

door-bell, waking

her

sister-in-law.

"I

need

to use the

phone,"

she

said. "Anthony won't

let me

into

the

house."

She

assured

the

police

officer

that

the

children would

be in no

dan-

ger.

"Ma'am,"

he

cautioned, "you have

a

legal right

to be in the

house,

but

it's best

if you

stay away until

he

cools off."

Over

the

protests

of her

sister-in-law,

she

went back out.

She

tried

the

door

again.

"Get lost, Irene," Anthony responded.