Crush. Candy. Corpse. (16 page)

I swallow hard, but then he smiles. The smile doesn’t make it up to his eyes, but they take me in.

I smile back. His hair doesn’t stand up anymore at the top but it’s grown really long and shaggy. I could so fix that for him.

Cole doesn’t stutter when he swears on the Bible but there are gaps in his speech.

“Thank you for coming today,” my lawyer tells him. “The court understands that you are still recovering from your accident last year. For the record, have you spoken to the defendant, Sonja Ehret, since then?”

“No.” Cole furrows his brow. “Conditions for her bail are . . . no contact.”

He was in a coma for two months after the accident, but I couldn’t visit him. I heard from Alexis when he opened his eyes, but I wasn’t allowed to send him a note. I found out about him speaking a month later, but I couldn’t call. There was no way to tell him how sorry I was about everything. I hadn’t heard he could walk.

My lawyer didn’t know whether he would call Cole to the stand or not. He wasn’t certain which way his condition might swing the jurors.

Michael must feel desperate.

He doesn’t sound it, though. He leans on the podium and speaks in a casual tone. “Can you tell us what your relationship was with Sunny?”

“We were . . . friends.”

“Boyfriend-girlfriend friends?” Michael smiles.

“I’d hoped.” He smiles back and that gives the jury members permission to titter and grin.

The judge doesn’t say anything about the reactions this time.

Michael continues. “About your grandmother’s pink streaks, could you tell the court how they came about?”

“Sure. It was . . . Grandma’s birthday present. Sunny did them for her.”

“Did she steal money from your grandmother’s drawer to buy the dye?”

“No! I gave her the mo. . .ney. I asked her to streak Grandma’s hair . . . because she liked Sunny’s.”

“So you didn’t go along with her idea. It was your decision to colour the hair.”

“Yes. My idea.”

I watch for the jury’s reaction. The guy with the crooked glasses nods. I think he may be shifting to my side.

My lawyer straightens and gestures to Cole with an open palm. “I know how difficult this is for you, but could you tell the jury how your grandmother felt about her Alzheimer’s?”

“Yes.” Cole pauses a longer while.

The bearded juror with the piercings shifts in his chair. The woman formerly of the sweatsuit leans forward. Yes he can, or yes he will, everyone must be wondering from the long delay.

Finally Cole speaks again. “She asked me to help her . . . die.”

Michael nods. “And did you agree?”

“Yes.”

Someone on the jury gasps.

“Did you tell Sunny about your grandmother’s request?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember what she said?”

“I think . . . I think she told me to forget about it. Not to feel . . . bad. It wasn’t a reasonable request.”

“Did you give your grandmother candy at the end of every visit?”

“Yes. Other times, too. She liked . . . sweets.”

“You left Paradise Manor before the Valentine’s party. Why?”

Cole shuts his eyes for a moment. “I was . . . angry. I thought Sunny was bringing Donovan . . . I couldn’t stay.”

I cover my face. If I had just told Donovan he couldn’t drive me that day, none of this would have happened.

“Was it Sunny’s fault that you had your accident that day?”

Cole shakes his head. “No.” His face turns red, he looks too upset to continue.

Michael watches him and waits patiently.

Cole starts again. “I rode a bike in February. I didn’t wear a helmet. I was . . . stupid.”

“Do you think Sunny gave your grandmother candies till she choked and then just walked away?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Never.”

“Thank you. No further questions.

The judge asks the Crown whether he has any questions. I can see the buzzard think for a moment.

“Yes, Your Honour. I do.” He stands and turns towards the witness box. “Mr. Demers, you have suffered through severe brain trauma, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you said just now that you think Sonja Ehret told you to forget your grandmother’s request. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Is it not true that memory lapses are a symptom of brain trauma?”

Someone groans in the jury.

“I’m sure . . . she told me not to help Grandma. Just not sure about the wording.”

“Answer the question Mr. Demers,” the buzzard snaps. “Are memory lapses symptoms of your condition or not?”

“Sometimes.”

“No further questions.”

I stare at Cole and wish for the millionth time that I could just talk to him.

He returns my stare. Suddenly he winks and that makes me feel a whole lot better. Then he gets up and slowly limps out of the courtroom.

I want to jump up and chase after him, but I know I can’t.

The judge clears his throat as he looks at his watch. “The time is now three p.m. We shall adjourn till tomorrow for the final summations.”

We do the whole standing-up routine for the judge who leaves by his side entrance. Then my parents and I walk out the front.

“Don’t worry. Everything went well,” Michael tells me, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “Tomorrow it will be my turn. Go home and try to forget about the trial. Have a nice family evening.”

Mom nods and Dad agrees out loud as we slip our coats on. The surrounding cement walls are heavy and claustrophobic, and I feel as though everyone is looking at me. Quickly, I lead the way down a couple of flights of stairs and through a double set of doors. Finally, I take a deep breath outside. It’s February. A warm one like last year when it happened, but still grey and bleak.

On the way to the car, Mom calls Wolfie on her cell. She tells him about how today went for us and asks him if there are things that need their attention at the office. “Okay, then we will come.”

A nice family evening performing condo management duties.

“Wait, Mom!” I catch her arm before she gets into the car.

She hesitates, one hand still on the door.

“Did you mean what you said on the stand back there?”

“Sunny! Of course. Every word.”

“But it wasn’t all true. I was trouble for you and Dad.”

“You are our daughter, no trouble to us.”

My mother has a different way of speaking and I want so badly to understand.

“What if I am guilty?”

She sighs. “What is guilty?” She reaches out and touches the left side of my chest with one hand. “Your heart is good. I know this. Your father and your brother know this, too.” She looks into my eyes and grabs my forearms “When I am old, you will dye some of my hair pink too, yes?”

“Sure Mom.”

“You are never guilty.”

I put my arms around her. She’s thin and breakable. It does too matter what the stupid people decide. Her eyes and smile will fade. Her bones will crumble, she’ll turn to dust and blow away. I want to say more to her, to be the kid I used to be when I was little, all adoring.

But I let her go and we all get into the car.

When we get to the office, Wolfie tells me that Alexis called. “She said Mr. Brooks is bringing the whole class tomorrow.”

“Don’t look that way,” my father says. “Your friends wish to support you.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like a basketball game where they can cheer.”

He tilts his head. “Nevertheless, it’s nice.”

“No homework either for the weekend,” Wolfie tells me.

“Now that’s nice.”

“I want to come too,” my brother suddenly announces.

Dad glances at Mom.

“It should be the last day.” She answers his unspoken question. “We can close the office. I will have news from the doctor tomorrow morning, too.”

Discussion over, we settle into our usual routine. I open the mail, stamp it, circle amounts, and pass it to Mom. Dad calls a few contractors. This is what our family does together, office work. I smile, looking at my mother. She believes in me.

The routine is comforting but when our pizza comes it’s hard to eat. Did I say the right things? What could I have done differently? The jury knows I lie sometimes. I admitted it myself. Will that be enough to convict me?

Before bed, my mother and I sip a cup of herbal tea that’s supposed to make you sleep. My mother hugs me for a long time. She loves me, likes me too, no matter what. I think knowing that helps me sleep best of all.

The next day Mom is late from her doctor’s appointment. As I check the door of the courtroom, I try to make a bargain with a God I don’t even believe in.
Trade you my not guilty verdict for a no cancer diagnosis.
If Mom is cancer free it won’t matter if I have to go away for a little while. I watch my classmates drift in. Mr. Brooks finds a seat. Donovan next and Alexis, then Gillian Halliday from the residence. Where is Mom? Has she already been admitted to hospital?

The judge calls for order several times and threatens to clear the room before everyone finally settles down. Then he looks toward my lawyer.

“Attorney for the defence?” the judge says. Michael McCann stands up.

“Members of the jury, Your Honour, Crown Counsel, all teenagers do not lie, steal, or break the law. Some of them like seniors, some of them enjoy volunteering with old people. Some of them respect their parents and teachers, do their homework and chores. We’ve heard that Sonja is one of those kinds of young people.

“We’ve also heard how difficult the death of her own grandmother was to her. How hard she took the news of her mother’s bout with cancer. This is a young person who values life in both the young and the old.

“On February 14 of last year, Sonja Ehret walked into Mrs. Demers’s room. The two overheard the news of Cole’s accident. Whether Mrs. Demers understood or not, she did something unusual. She requested a candy. On a normal day she couldn’t speak anymore. Perhaps she was having one of her ‘good days.’ Sonja unwrapped it and gave it to her. Then, upset as she was over Cole, she left.

“Witnesses for the Crown testify that Sonja Ehret breaks rules. She didn’t break a rule that day entering the room alone. She was no longer there as a student volunteer.

“Did she break a rule giving Helen Demers a candy? Perhaps. But Cole had been giving Helen candies every visit. Should she be expected to think that it could cause fatal harm to Helen? I don’t believe so.

“What happened then? There is a possibility that in this better state that Mrs. Demers was in, this small temporary reprise from her condition, she could have reached over, unwrapped another two candies, and popped them in her mouth.

“Or perhaps, as Sunny suggested, one of the other patients came in and helped her ingest more candy.

“The good state ended and she began to choke. If the Crown could prove that Sonja heard this choking and did not return to assist her or call someone else, this would be an unlawful act. Unfortunately, no one noticed in time to help Mrs. Demers. We’ve already heard how busy Paradise Manor could get sometimes.

“Even if you believe that the afternoon might have played out the way the Crown has suggested, you must find Sonja Ehret not guilty. If you think Sunny probably or likely fed Mrs. Demers candy till she choked and then denied her any assistance, you must still find Sunny not guilty. As the judge told you in his instructions at the beginning of the trial, ‘maybe,’ ‘likely,’ even ‘probably’ is not good enough. Sunny is innocent unless the Crown Counsel has convinced you
beyond any reasonable doubt
that she committed this crime. One thing that is certain to me, and it should be evident to the court, is that Sonja Ehret did not kill Helen Demers. Alzheimer’s disease killed Helen Demers. And you cannot hold anyone accountable for this unfortunate disease. Thank you.”

I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to see Mom has arrived. She smiles and whispers in my ear. “Everything is good.”

A smile cracks my face open wide and I breathe out a long sigh as I squeeze her hand on my shoulder. Nothing else will matter.

“Will the Crown Counsel present his summation now,” the judge commands.

The buzzard’s eyes blink in a near twitch. He looks towards me and back to the judge. Finally he stands up, clears his throat, and begins.

“In this country we do not believe in euthanasia, nor do we believe that patients can choose to end their own lives. This is in our law.

“We have this law so that the weak and the helpless and, yes, the feebleminded, are protected.

“We have heard from several witnesses that Sonja Ehret broke regulations when it suited her. When Sonja came that extra day, she told us that the regular rules did not apply.

“Yes, Sonja Ehret liked old people. She wanted them to have choices. When Helen Demers wanted pink hair, Sonja gave her pink hair. She wanted sweets, Cole and Sonja gave them to her.

“She asked for death and her grandson Cole couldn’t give it to her because he obeyed rules. But Sonja Ehret did not.

“She claims she only gave Helen Demers a single butterscotch but she also admitted that she doesn’t always tell the truth. She lied about the sewer explosion, she lied to sneak around with a forbidden boyfriend. Members of the jury, she’s lying about that single candy.

“The coroner’s report states clearly that three candies were lodged in Helen Demers’s throat. It also confirms the time of death to be five-forty. Sonja left at five-thirty. Beyond any reasonable doubt, she was the last person to see Helen Demers alive.

“On February 14. Cole’s near-fatal accident convinced her that Helen Demers should die. We know Sonja took first-aid courses and understood how to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre. Sonja gave Mrs. Demers candies until she choked, then refused assistance to her. She didn’t call anyone to help Helen Demers. Sonja walked away. The candy caused the choking, but Sonja denying her medical assistance was an unlawful act, one that a reasonable person could foresee causing serious harm.

“Yes, Sonja liked old people and bought them things and wanted only to please them. This was not a murder for money or personal gain. This was a misguided effort to help a senior.

“But it is manslaughter nonetheless. And misguided as she was, she is accountable. Members of the jury, it is your duty to see that she is held accountable. I ask you to find her guilty.”

Those twelve people all stare at me now, no smiles from any of them. Do they think they can see the truth in my eyes? I thought that if my mother’s ultrasound was clear, I wouldn’t care about all this. But now I find I still do. One of the bearded twins scratches at his chin.
Heh, heh,
the man in the front coughs.

I study the jury, too, and can’t see through their expressions any more than they see through mine. It’s been a year since it all happened. I don’t think I can listen to one more question or statement about that Valentine’s Day. Mom is okay, that’s all that matters. But the judge speaks just as Michael McCann warned me he would. He has to make his formal charge to the jury.

First he talks about their duties and how they have to decide based upon all the facts presented to them — not anything they’ve heard in the media, not public opinion or their own sympathies, prejudices, or fears. They don’t have to worry about punishment, they just need to discuss, listen, and decide the case for themselves.
Blah, blah, blah.
On and on he talks about witnesses, exhibits. He reviews the testimonies. I want to explode, he’s crammed so much law into it. Finally, it all seems to boil down to this: I gave her candies until she began choking and then walked away. I withheld medical assistance. If that’s what all twelve of them believe beyond a reasonable doubt, they should find me guilty.

“The jury will now retire to make its deliberations.”

“All rise,” the court clerk commands. The twelve members shuffle out.

“What do we do now?” I ask Michael.

“We wait.”

“How long?” I ask.

“It depends how fast they make up their minds and whether they all agree on the verdict. Why don’t you go to the cafeteria and I will call you.”

“Can we go outside somewhere instead?” I plead. “Everyone else will be in the cafeteria.”

“Sure,” Michael answers.

My father nods. Once outdoors, there’s a parking lot but no sidewalk and no decent mall nearby. No place for us to go.

Some kids from my class are outside smoking. I don’t wave.

“We can cross the street and walk for a bit over there.” My mother points to a strip mall.

My father grabs our hands. He wants to keep us safe from the cars, from the dangerous outside world. He grips too tightly because he just can’t save us from that inside world behind us. Wolfie grabs on to my other hand. This is all I need. I feel safe.

At the little strip, there’s a Greek diner, a convenience store, a pharmacy, and a doughnut shop. No one wants a coffee or doughnuts so my father picks up a wild-cherry gum pack from the convenience store. He opens the package, offering them around outside. I take one. My mouth is so dry. I chew, but then it’s too sweet. Wolfie grabs two.

I see my mother huddling from cold as she pulls out a single stick for herself. We should have stayed inside the court building. The weather is too much for her.

“Mom?” Purple shadows her eyes, she couldn’t have slept. We could still lose her; a doctor’s okay this morning is not a guarantee. I want to say something to her what I couldn’t say for a long time. It’s hard for me so I try in German first. “
Ich liebe dich
.” She looks at me, startled. I reach out and hug her gently. “I love you, Mom.”

Dad’s cell phone goes off then. We break apart. “It’s too soon,” he says. “How can they have decided so quickly?” He sounds anxious, as though an early decision will not be the one we hope for. “Hello. Yes, yes.” He snaps the phone shut. “It’s time. We have to go back.”

We return to the court with the others. I take my special seat with my parents and brother in the row behind me. There is a buzz of people as the court fills again.

The judge looks up at the jury. Finally, he says: “Have you agreed upon a verdict?”

Heh, heh, heh.
The nervous cougher stands. “We have, Your Honour.” He coughs again. “We find the defendant . . . not guilty.”

Behind me kids leap up and cheer. I step down from my box into the aisle where Mom jumps up to join me. We hug and my father hugs around us. Wolfie joins our circle. I’m as overjoyed that the whole thing is over as I am about the verdict.

Michael McCann shakes my hand and wishes me good luck.

“Thank you so much.” I hug him when we finish hand shaking. When I look up I see Mr. Brooks. We hug too.

“Sunny, I always knew you were innocent. I adjusted your marks for last year. You’ll have an A+ on the journal and a B+ in English. You deserve it for all that you’ve been through.”

“Thanks, Mr. Brooks.”

I hug Alexis and high five with Chris and Josh. Some of my classmates pat my back.

Donovan looks at me but I can’t touch him. “Shoulda never happened, Babe.”

I nod. There is a reporter and the flash of a camera. My father tells me he’s okayed the shot so everyone everywhere will know that I’m innocent.

When the brightness ends, I think I see Cole’s face. I feel a sharp pang in my chest. But when my eyes focus more clearly I can see that the face is an older, more wrinkled version and it belongs to his mother. No way would she have let Cole attend.

“Mrs. Demers!” I rush towards her and she turns away. “Don’t go yet!”

She hesitates for a second, but then keeps walking.

It’s that small hesitation that gives me hope. I want to grab her shoulders and make her listen to me. But my mother catches up to me and drapes one arm over my shoulder. “She is very sad right now. It is not your fault.”

Mrs. Demers needs time, I get that. My mother thinks it’s not my fault and Cole doesn’t blame me either. He said so in his testimony. But it’s the wink and smile I remember most. Maybe I won’t be able to make things right with his mother, but I know I can help him. Help him with his physio, with his speech, whatever.

Everyone always said how good I was with old people. That’s because I was patient. And my grandmother didn’t nickname me Sunny for nothing. I will bring sunshine into Cole’s life again. If she sees her son growing stronger, won’t Mrs. Demers be happy again too?

I just have to be patient.

The End