I wanted to hear them, I simply couldn’t function well enough to go to the courthouse. It was all I could do to stand beside my bed for five minutes, or sit in the visitors’ chair watching television. I got so agitated at my failure that Dad finally sedated me. I lay in the bed half conscious, waiting for an update from Caitlin, who was in the courtroom.
I waited in vain. Caitlin wasn’t about to give up her seat in the packed courtroom to call someone who couldn’t do anything about what was happening anyway. I switched on the TV and tried to think about something else, but it was no use. I’d never felt so impotent in my life. I lay shaking under the blanket, troubled by thoughts of Blue, almost wishing the big man would appear at my bedside with his blessed syringe. But he couldn’t do that, of course. He was dead. I’d cut the top of his head off with a battery plate. When the sedative finally overwhelmed me, I almost wept with relief.
I blink my eyes in confusion. My mother is standing beside my bed.
”What’s the matter?“
”Caitlin’s on the phone. The jury’s back.“
A bolus of adrenaline shoots through my body. ”Give it to me!“
Mom passes me the phone. ”Caitlin?“
”The jury’s coming back in,“ she whispers. ”They deliberated ninety-four minutes.“
My face goes cold.
”What do you think?“
”Guilty.“
”If they see me on this phone, they’ll kick me out,“ Caitlin says. ”I’m going to leave the connection open. If you can’t hear the verdict, I’ll tell you as soon as I can.“
My phone begins hissing like a link to outer space. I’ve never listened to a jury verdict this way before. A friend of mine once called me and held up his cell phone at a Paul McCartney concert: ”Eleanor Rigby,“ I think.
”Who is the foreperson?“ asks Judge Arthel Minor, his voice replacing the hiss with amazing clarity.
For some reason, I don’t hear the reply. Probably because the judge has a microphone while the jury box doesn’t.
”Have you reached a verdict?“ Judge Minor asks.
Again nothing.
”Please pass the verdict to the clerk.“
Silence now, but I know what’s happening. The clerk is giving the verdict to Judge Minor, who will check to see if the jury has worded it correctly. Minor will then pass it to the clerk, who will read the verdict aloud. At least three deputies will surround Drew to keep him from bolting in panic in the event of a guilty verdict, or to protect him from angry relatives of the victim in the opposite event.
”Ladies and gentlemen,“ says Judge Minor, ”I’m warning you. There will be no outbursts when the verdict is read, or afterward. There will be quiet and order. Do not test me, or you will find yourself in the custody of the sheriff.“
After a brief silence, Minor says, ”Read the verdict.“
A female voice says, ”In the matter of the
I sag against my pillow.
”Did you hear that?“ Caitlin whispers.
”I heard.“
”I can’t believe it.“
”Believe it.“
”Are you okay?“
”Yes. Go. I know you need to work.“
”Wait. Judge Minor’s going to poll the jury.“
”They always do that in capital cases. It’s over, Caitlin.“
”I’ll call you as soon as I can,“ she promises.
I let the phone drop and reach for my water glass.
I wish there were some way I could talk to Drew. Right now he’s standing at his table in shock, Quentin Avery beside him, watching Judge Minor excuse the family of the victim-Jenny Townsend and perhaps her ex-husband. Next Drew’s family will be excused. I wonder who was there for him. His parents are dead. Ellen? Probably not. Timmy is certainly not there. But after whoever is there for him has left the courtroom, Drew will be escorted straight back to the county jail. What can he be thinking? An innocent man convicted of capital murder. The realization that twelve citizens believed him capable of brutally raping and murdering a young girl will stun Drew into shock. If it wasn’t for Tim, I’d be afraid he might try to kill himself.
”Penn, are you all right?“ asks my mother.
”Yes.“
”What happened?“
”Guilty. They found Drew guilty.“
”Oh, my God. Oh, no.“
Peggy Cage takes several steps around the room, then stops, shaking her head. ”I just don’t believe it. I watched that boy grow up. He ate tuna fish sandwiches in my house every day, every summer, for years. That boy was
”I agree with you. But twelve other people don’t.“
”Fools,“ she says conclusively. ”Poor protoplasm.“
”It was a solid case, Mom. But it doesn’t matter now. Now Drew has to look toward the appeal.“
”Did he get the death penalty?“
”That’s a separate phase of the trial. They may do that today, or they might wait until tomorrow.“
Mom walks back to my bed, her eyes worried. ”You look bad, Penn. Worse than you did two minutes ago.“
”I don’t feel too good,“ I admit.
”I’m going to get your father to give you something. Something to help you sleep.“
”I don’t need anything, Mom.“
”You let me worry about that.“
Ten minutes later, my father appears, a syringe in his hand. If only he had what Blue used to bring me…
But soon enough, I’m gone again.
”Penn?“
I groan and force myself to open my eyes.
”Who is it?“ I croak, squinting against the light.
”Me.“
”Who?“
”Ellen. Ellen Elliott. My God…are you all right?“
”It’s not as bad as it looks.“
”It’s probably worse.“
I can see her now, her skin greenish under the fluorescent lights. Ellen doesn’t look too good herself. She’s lost weight over the past two weeks. A lot of weight. Her color job is fading, the Nordic blond hair now rooted with brown and gray.
”What time is it, Ellen? Did you hear the verdict?“
She nods. ”That was two hours ago, Penn.“
”Oh. Were you in court?“
”No. I couldn’t watch. I wanted to be with Timmy.“ Ellen tries to force a smile, but the effort goes in vain. ”It’s very difficult to go out in public now. People just stare and point like I’m some circus animal. They don’t spare Timmy, either. The kids at school…they’re awful.“
”That’s what happens in these trials. I don’t blame you, Ellen. I know Drew missed you being in there for him, though.“
She gives me a mistrustful glance. ”Do you really think so?“
