Kane's Hell

Heads nodded around the room.

“But for the sake of our discussion, let’s focus on Christianity since it’s part and parcel of western culture and most heavily influences our society. Does our society follow the teachings of the Old Testament? An eye for an eye? Or the New Testament? Turning the other cheek?”

“An eye for an eye,” someone hollered from the back of the class.

Some heads nodded, some shook. I remained still, watching Helene.

She shrugged. “Sometimes. Depends on the crime. Depends on the state. Depends on the government, politics, etc. of that state. Yes?”

More heads nodded.

“So, the death penalty is just?” she asked as she crossed her arms?

“Of course it’s just. You kill. You get killed,” a middle aged man said plainly.

“You can kill the pedophiles too while you’re at it,” a young man added.

Helene glanced down at the floor, but however casual the move was meant to be, I could see the tension in her throat as she tried to swallow. When she glanced back up, her expression was calm, but her eyes flit to me, pausing for just a moment.

She cleared her throat. “So a man who sexually molests a child in general should be put to death. He’s not killed a person or even the child necessarily, but that particular crime is heinous enough to warrant death?”

It wasn’t one or two students who agreed with that statement. The yeahs, hell yesses, and nodding heads resonated around the room.

“Could you make that decision?” she asked the young man.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“Then you’ve made one person’s life more valuable than another’s. And bear in mind thereby doing so means you’ve just rocked the equilibrium of mankind. If we’re all equal and all things also being equal, are you not saying this criminal’s life is worth less?” She stared at him for a moment. “If justice is based on equality, how then can you say your actions are just?” The room was silent. “Now, are you prepared to make that decision?”

“Fuck, yes, I could,” the boy stated more emphatically.

“Fuck, yes, you could?” I asked as I craned my neck around to see him.

My voice bordered on incredulous, and my heart was pounding. I regretted the eruption instantly. I didn’t want to get into this discussion, but my hackles were raised. I stared at the kid who couldn’t have been more than twenty at the most, and I hated him for his naiveté, and his ignorance made me want to yell. He stared right back, his chin jutting up in defiance.

When the kid’s eyes flit away from mine to Helene beyond my shoulder, I turned back to face her. She was already looking at me.

“How about we stow the F-bombs, gentleman,” she said easily, but her eyes lingered on mine. She inhaled deeply. “Clearly you have an opinion on the matter,” she said to me, holding the eye contact as the rest of the room stared at us.

“Not really.” My words were casual, but my chest was tight. It wasn’t the room, it wasn’t the other students, it was her. She was looking directly at me and asking me to define my opinion on something that touched my life so much closer than even she understood. My opinion was also not something I could wrap my head around, and this was not the time or the place to try to work it out.

She said nothing for a moment, but then she cocked her head challengingly to the side. “So, yes to an eye for an eye?”

“I don’t know.” I stared right back at her.

“Yes to the death penalty?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, to the extermination of pedophiles?”

“I… Don’t… Know…”

Her eyes never left mine, and it seemed to go on too long.

“Your position then, Mr. Thorson…?” She waited patiently for an answer.

“Is that it’s complicated.”

Her lip twitched, nearly a smirk that never quite made it. “It is… Yes,” she agreed. And then she finally looked away.

And I breathed again.

“How can you fight injustice with injustice?” Helene stood and started walking. “Goes against the very nature of what justice means. Does it not? One of the oldest arguments within the study of this particular topic.” She paused, looking around. “Who deserves justice? Do we all deserve justice on equal grounds?” She shrugged.

The room was silent, and she let it drag on for many long seconds.

“And with that, we embark on the medieval world. No quiz tonight, folks. Instead, I want a five hundred word essay on St. Augustine. You’ll find everything you need to know about the man in the assigned reading for next week.”

The room groaned.

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