justice system. But he’s already out of his seat, heading for the door. He slams it as he leaves, and the bang rips through the courtroom like a gunshot.
“Bailiff!” Judge Green shouts. “Stop that man and bring him back here.”
I fix a stare on the judge as the bailiff hurries out the door. I hear shouting in the hallway. Thirty seconds later, the bailiff walks back through the door, holding Dillinger by the elbow. The look in Dillinger’s eyes is one of fear and humiliation.
“Bring him to the lectern,” the judge says.
Dillinger stands before Judge Green, looking down at the lectern.
“You’re in contempt, Mr. Dillinger. Your punishment is a hundred-dollar fine, payable in the clerk’s office before you leave the building. If you don’t pay it, I’ll have you arrested and jailed. Go back to Canada where you belong, sir. The Canadian government may allow you to invade the privacy of others to your heart’s content, but this is the United States of America. We don’t tolerate such behavior.”
Dillinger’s shoulders drop, and he walks out of the courtroom like a condemned man. As soon as he leaves, I speak up.
“In light of your ruling, Judge, the state moves to dismiss the indictment against Mr. Carver.”
“Really, Mr. Dillard? You mean you don’t plan to appeal?”
He’s smug. He knows an appeal will take two years. Even if his ruling were reversed-and I feel certain it would be-so many things can happen in two years. Evidence is lost. Witnesses die or move away. They become uncooperative. After what Dillinger’s been through today, I’m certain he won’t return in two years.
“No, Judge. I’m not going to appeal.”
“Very well. Case dismissed. Costs taxed to the state. Mr. Carver, you’re free to go.”
6
Katie Dean spent two months in the hospital after she was nearly murdered by her father. The blast entered the right side of her chest, smashed her sternum and several ribs, and blew out a large part of her right lung. She didn’t remember what had happened for at least two weeks after the shooting. There was only blackness-a vast hole in her life. She didn’t even remember dreaming.
When she had finally healed enough to leave the hospital, Katie’s aunt Mary took her to the cemetery. It was mid-October 1992. The weather had turned cold, the wind was howling in off Lake Michigan, and leaves were falling from the trees and swirling in the air like giant, colored snowflakes. Katie’s mother, along with Katie’s brothers and sister, were buried side by side. She knelt and laid fresh cut flowers in front of the headstone that marked her mother’s grave, and she wept so hard her stomach cramped. She couldn’t believe she’d never see them again. She couldn’t believe what Father had done. She wished he’d killed her, too.
Father’s grave wasn’t there. Aunt Mary said he’d been placed in another cemetery. Katie didn’t ask where it was. Mother always said he was sick, but Katie couldn’t find it in her heart to forgive him for what he did.
Aunt Mary was Mother’s older sister, and she bore a striking resemblance. She was slender, not very tall, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a kind face. She looked tired most of the time, as though she never got enough sleep. Mother had taken Katie and her brothers and sister to Tennessee to visit Aunt Mary once, not long after Aunt Mary’s husband was killed in a logging accident. She lived in a farmhouse at the base of a mountain near a place called Gatlinburg. Katie was just a little girl, but she remembered they went there late in May, right after Kirk and Kiri got out of school for the summer. Aunt Mary was pregnant.
It was the first time Katie had ever seen the Great Smoky Mountains and the purple haze that hung over them in the evening. They were so beautiful. She would go out onto the front porch in the evening and sit for hours, just looking up at the massive humps and gentle slopes shrouded in mist. Sometimes after dark the mountains would sparkle with tiny lights, as though thousands of fairies were flying among the leaves on the trees. The image made her think of magic kingdoms, filled with wonder and mystery.
Aunt Mary took Katie back to her farmhouse in Tennessee the day after she visited her family’s grave sites. Katie supposed Aunt Mary was the only person in the family who wanted her. Father’s parents had both died of cancer before Katie was born. Mother’s mother died of an aneurysm in her lung when Katie was nine. Her grandpa Patrick was still alive, but he’d married another woman and was living in Oregon.
Katie was sitting in the front seat beside Aunt Mary in the car on the way to her house. They crossed into Tennessee near a town called Jellico. Rain was beating against the windshield, and the tires on the tractor trailers were throwing up huge plumes of water like geysers. Darkness was falling.
“Katie,” Aunt Mary said, “we don’t have much, but what we have is yours. You’re my daughter now.”
Katie scooted over and buried her face in Aunt Mary’s shoulder. She started to cry.
“There, there now,” Aunt Mary said. “Everything’s going to be all right. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, child, but you have to keep on going. God chose you to go on living. He chose you, Katie, and for a reason. We don’t know what His reason is yet, but you have to be strong. It’s what God wants, and it’s what your momma would have wanted.”
Katie had thought a lot about God when she was lying in the hospital, after Aunt Mary told her that everyone in her family was dead. She was angry with Him. Katie and her mother and brothers and sister had gone to church every Sunday morning, and every night since she could remember, Katie knelt down next to her bed and prayed before she went to sleep. Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
At the end of the prayer, she always asked God to bless Mother and Father, her sister, and her brothers. If there was anyone she knew who was sick or having problems, she’d ask God to bless them, too. She never asked Him to bless her; she thought it would be selfish. She never asked Him for a thing. Maybe she should have asked Him to keep her family safe.
When they finally arrived in Tennessee in the middle of the night, Aunt Mary and Katie carried their things inside. The house was dark except for a lamp near the front door. The hardwood floors creaked under Katie’s feet with every step, and the wind was rattling the shutters outside the windows. The house smelled odd, like a doctor’s office.
A light came on down a short hallway to Katie’s right, and a door opened. A black woman stepped into the hall and walked toward them. The woman stopped and looked down at Katie. She smiled. She had the darkest eyes and the whitest teeth Katie had ever seen, and her face was as shiny and round as a ceramic dinner plate. She was much bigger than Aunt Mary. Her hair was wrapped in a blue bandanna, and she was wearing a faded blue flannel robe.
Katie heard a muffled sound coming from the other side of the door. It sounded almost like a sheep bawling.
“Welcome home, Mary,” the black woman said to Aunt Mary. They embraced.
“It’s good to be here,” Aunt Mary said.
Aunt Mary put her hand on Katie’s shoulder. “This is Katie,” she said. “Katie, this is Lottie, my good friend.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Katie,” Lottie said in a soft, smooth, Southern way. She knelt down and hugged her. “You’re gonna be real happy here. Real happy.”
Katie heard the sound coming from behind the door again-“ nnggghhaaaaah ”-and looked nervously up at Aunt Mary.
“He knows you’re here,” Lottie said to Aunt Mary. “He’s missed you something terrible.”
“Why don’t you take Katie upstairs and get her settled?” Aunt Mary said. “I’ll look in on him.”
Lottie picked up Katie’s suitcase with one hand, wrapped the other around Katie’s hand, and led her toward the stairs. Katie looked back over her shoulder and saw Aunt Mary disappear into the same room from which Lottie had emerged. She heard the bawling sound again, this time much louder.
“That’s Luke,” Lottie said as they made their way slowly up the stairs. “He’s a special boy. I expect you’ll meet him tomorrow.”
