Only the Truth (10 page)

"Mr. Green.
Your witness?"

Mr. Green slowly shook his head. "No questions, your Honor, no
questions."

"Call your next witness, Mr. Dawson."

"Will Mr.
Wiggington
please come to the
stand?"

Some man I hadn't seen before in the courtroom walked to the front and sat
down. I looked over at Mrs.
Wiggington
and I could
see her glaring at him, so I guessed it was the husband she didn't live with
any more. I didn't like the man the minute I laid eyes on him. It wasn't a
matter of what he was going to say because I knew what he was going to say, but
I hated him because he was the kind of person who deserved hating.

"She
ain't
my daughter."

"Can you repeat that, Mr.
Wiggington
?"

"She
ain't
my daughter. I don't know what my
wife's been smoking, but that girl
ain't
my
daughter."

Mr. Dawson tried to look puzzled.

"Why do you say she isn't your daughter? She says she is and your wife
says she is."

Mr.
Wiggington
snorted. "Yeah, well, then
she's come back from the dead."

"Why would you think your daughter is dead?"

"Well, my wife left a piece of the story out, didn't she?
The part about my daughter's coat being found in that pervert's
trunk?"

A cry escaped from Mrs.
Wiggington's
mouth and she
fled the courtroom.

"Go on, Mr.
Wiggington
."

He folded his arms over his big belly.

"Well, they found her coat and they asked my wife if it was our
daughter's and she told them it wasn't. Then they came and asked me and I would
have known that coat anywhere. There weren't two like it in the whole of
Arkansas."

"My wife let the damn murderer of my daughter walk because she couldn't
goddamn accept the fact that she was gone!"

Mr. Dawson swung around and bowed to Mr. Green.

"Your witness, Counselor."

Mr. Green got to his feet and faced Mr.
Wiggington
.

"Could you prove it was her coat?"

"What?"

"I repeat. Could you prove it was your daughter's coat?"

Mr.
Wiggington's
face grew red.

"I didn't have to prove it was her coat. It was her coat and if my wife
had said it was, the police would have arrested the man."

"Did you have any pictures of your daughter wearing that coat?"

"Pictures?
I don't know what pictures my wife
took of my daughter. I saw her twice in the coat before I left and then I don't
know what my wife did. She knew where I was even if she says she didn't and she
didn't send me
no
pictures."

"Did you have a sales receipt for the coat?"

Mr.
Wiggington
looked annoyed. "My wife made
her that coat, so why would we have any sales receipt?"

"Just answer the question, Mr.
Wiggington
.
Did you have a sales receipt for the coat?"

"No!"

"Did you have a picture of the coat?"

He spoke through gritted teeth.

"No!"

"And so you had no proof, did you, Mr.
Wiggington
, that
the coat in
the suspect's car belonged to your daughter?"

"No, for Christ's sake, no!"

"Then what proof do you have that your daughter is dead, Mr.
Wiggington
, and that this woman sitting here is not your
adopted daughter, since DNA isn't going to help prove she is?"

"None, you fucking prick, none."

The judge told him to watch his mouth or he'd get him for contempt of court.

Mr. Green did not seem the least disturbed by the outburst. He smiled and
thanked Mr.
Wiggington
for his time. He then shot a
glance over at Mr. Dawson who smiled back at him, also not the least bit
disturbed by Mr.
Wiggington's
outburst.

The judge recessed for lunch.

********************

Mr. Green cornered me in the lunchroom.

"What the hell is going on with you today, Billy Ray? Why are you so
jumpy? Is there something you want to tell me?"

I couldn't speak. I don't know why I went to Mr. Dawson instead of Mr.
Green. I felt like I had stepped in front of a train that I knew was coming
because I didn't want to be confused any more.

I shook my head and avoided his gaze. He finally gave up trying to get me to
look at him and walked away.

Charlene was called to the stand first thing in the afternoon. She didn't
have to go up there but she did, against the advice of Mr. Green. She sat down
quietly in the witness stand and the judge asked her if she understood she didn't
have to take the stand and answer questions. It was her right not to testify in
her own defense. She nodded.

"I need a verbal answer, Ms.
Wiggington
."

"Yes, sir, I understand."

The judge sighed and Mr. Green shook his head. "Go ahead, Mr.
Dawson."

Mr. Dawson asked her name and she told him Cheryl
Wiggington
.

"And your middle name?"

Charlene seemed to stop and think a bit.

"I can't remember it."

Mr. Dawson walked back to his table and picked up the newspaper clipping I
had seen at the hospital.

"Does this help?" He pointed to the caption under the picture of
Charlene at six years old.

She smiled. "Oh, yes.
Bettina.
Funny name,
don't you think?"

Mr. Dawson smiled back at her. "Yes, Cheryl, that is a strange
name."

"You were a sweet little girl in that picture, Cheryl. Can you tell us
a little about that girl and what you remember right before your family lost
you?"

Charlene looked off into some void and started repeating what she had told
Mr. Green and me in the little talking room that day. Actually, I could hear
the words echoing in my head as though she had memorized each one of them.

She said, "I don't remember very much at all. I remember a little
house. It was blue with white shutters. I remember a big ugly tree in the yard
with a rope swing on it that I loved a lot. I remember the kitchen. It was
yellow. I remember my mother. She had long blonde hair, and long fingernails,
and her teeth stuck out funny and they hurt sometimes when she kissed me. I had
a little brother and sister."

Mr. Dawson asked, "And your father?"

She looked coldly over at Mr.
Wiggington
.

"I didn't have a father."

Mr. Dawson walked up to her and patted her hand.

"Thank you, Ms.
Wiggington
, that's all."

I could see Mr. Green's face from where I sat. He was totally confused and I
almost laughed to see him feeling like me. He was surely wondering what
was the point of Mr. Dawson
calling Charlene as a witness
just to introduce exactly the point Mr. Green was planning to make. That
Charlene suffered from that PTSD thing she got after she lost her family.

Mr. Green wasn't going to question his luck. Maybe the prosecutor was losing
his courtroom technique.

He walked up to Charlene.

"What do you remember after you were abducted?"

"Abducted?"

"Do you remember being abducted?"

Something odd passed over Mr. Green's face, like he forgot something and
then remembered it.

He looked carefully at Charlene and said slowly, "You remember nothing
at all, Ms.
Wiggington
, nothing at all?" He
locked eyes with Charlene.

She just stared for a bit and then she finally responded.

"I remember there was a man, a bad man...like a ghost that always was
around. I, I...I don't remember who he was or what he did to me. I was very
scared of him." Her voice trailed off and I wondered that this wasn't
supposed to be the kidnapper who kept her and did terrible things to her, the
man she was supposed to have confused with Mr. Doe.

Mr. Green laughed a bit sadly.

"You don't know who he was or what he did to you, but just the thought
of him..." Mr. Green was letting the jury imagine her fear. "And you
don't remember giving birth to any babies?"

Charlene shook her head. Mr. Green was pretty smart there. He made her look
like she lost her memory right off.

"I don't remember leaving my family. I just remember that they used to
be there and then they weren't."

"What is the next thing you remember after the time you described here
in court?"

She hung her head. "Nothing until I was living on the streets in Bald
Eagle."

Mr. Green pressed her again. "You sure you don't remember giving birth
to your babies?
Your babies?

Charlene burst out crying. I was shocked. I never saw her just suddenly cry
like that. She covered her face and she sobbed and I felt like I wanted to run
up to the stand and stop the whole bunch of questions. Maybe what I had done
was wrong. Maybe I was wrong about Charlene again. I just don't know what kind
of wrong.

Mr. Green waited patiently until Charlene's sobbing finally slowed down.

"Please answer the question, Cheryl. Don't you remember your
babies?"

Charlene shook her head and through the tears still rolling down her face,
she whispered, "No."

She put her head down in her arms on the witness stand and I felt like that
Judas in the Bible. I watched Mr. Green help Charlene from the stand and I knew
he had convinced the jury that she was suffering some sort of weird ailment
that might just mean she was crazy when she killed Mr. Doe.

"I have one more witness to call to the stand, Your Honor." Mr.
Dawson was speaking.

The judge looked up at the clock. "We are getting mighty long in the
day, Counselor. Will you need much time with this witness?"

"No, sir.
I only have one question."

"Go ahead, Mr. Dawson."

Mr. Dawson turned around. "Is Mrs.
Wiggington
back in the courtroom?

Someone shouted out that she was in the hallway.

"Bailiff, could you gather up Mrs.
Wiggington
and bring her back in here?"

The bailiff went out and Mrs.
Wiggington
was found
in short order and she sat back on the witness stand.

"Just one question, Mrs.
Wiggington
.
What did you hang on the oak tree in your yard after your daughter went
missing?"

Mrs.
Wiggington
swallowed hard. "I hung up a
swing, sir. For my daughter so she would find her way home to it. She always wanted
a swing."

I couldn't breathe. No one in the courtroom spoke.

Mr. Dawson turned to the court reporter.

"Would you please read back the part of the defendant's testimony where
she told us of what she remembered in her childhood?"

The court reporter scanned backwards in her notes.

"Yes, Sir.
Here it is."

"Please read it for the court and jury, Miss. Just the first four
lines, please."

“Ms.
Wiggington
said, ‘I don't remember very much
at all. I remember a little house. It was blue with white shutters. I remember
a big ugly tree in the yard with a rope swing on it that I loved a lot.’"

Mr. Dawson looked back at Mrs.
Wiggington
.

"When did you say you hung the swing on the oak tree?"

"One week after Cheryl disappeared."

"No more questions."

Mr. Green followed me out of the courtroom and punched me in the face. The
police had to pull him away. I lay on the ground for a long time until I could
see again. I didn't press charges.

V

The case got thrown out because Mr. Dawson did a slick TV thing that you
really aren't supposed to do in real life, hiding new evidence from the defense
attorney and then making him look an ass in court. A new trial was scheduled
for the beginning of March.

Mr. Green came by a couple of weeks later and apologized for breaking my
nose. He handed me a bunch of twenty dollar bills.

"What's all this for?" I asked him.

"Look, I'm sorry I nailed you at the courtroom. It was unprofessional
and not real nice of me. I know you
ain't
been able
to do too much snow shoveling and you are out of money."

I took the money from him and put it under the butter dish. "Thanks.
That's real nice of you."

I made some tea and some of my flat biscuits.

I asked him about Charlene.

"No, Billy Ray, she
ain't
asked about you
since the trial."

I didn't know to be happy or sad. I didn't even know what to call her by.
Cheryl, Charlene, or Jane Doe like Mr. Doe.

"Can I see the paper you found, Billy Ray?"

"Paper?"

"Yeah, the one you brought Charlene when she was in jail before she started
remembering who she was."

I got up and pulled out the family Bible where I had put the paper between
the Bible pages. I thought it was kind of funny to put it there because I don't
know where the family Bible came from and it wasn't our family's name written
in it anyhow but some other family named Griffith, at least that’s what my
Aunty told me.

I slid the paper out and handed it over to Mr. Green.

He looked at the picture in the middle of the clipping. It was an ugly oak
tree with a rope swing hanging off of it. Below the picture it said,
"Family hangs swing and hopes for daughter's return."

Mr. Green read a little further and put the paper down on the table. He
motioned for me to put it back. I slipped it into the Bible and put the Bible
back on the shelf.

"How did you know what it said, Billy Ray?"

"When I saw that picture, I had a bad feeling and I went to Mr. Snyder
at the drug store and he read me the story."

"Why didn't you come to me instead of Mr. Dawson?"

I hung my head.

"I guess I was so upset or mad that I just didn't want to help Charlene
any more
and I figured you would tell me to pretend I
didn't see the picture."

Mr. Green actually laughed.

"Well, I guess you have learned how we lawyers work, Billy Ray. I sure
would have told you to keep it to yourself."

Mr. Green rocked back in his chair and looked down his nose at me.

"You are finished with Charlene, aren't you?" he asked.

I had thought so before I
ratted
her out. But, then
I saw her crying in the court and I was back to not knowing what to think or
do.

"Why did she tell us she was Cheryl, Mr. Green?"

He shrugged. "I guess because it made a good story. She knew we were
looking for a good story to defend her with."

"She really liked her new family, though. She was happiest I had ever
seen her since she came to me."

"Billy Ray, you are the nicest man I have ever known. You still think
something good about that girl no matter what she does, even after you got so
hurt by what she did. Have you forgiven her already?"

I looked down at the table. "She isn't all bad, really, Mr. Green. She
was good to me before the old man came."

"I know she was, Billy Ray, I know she was."

We sat for a while and didn't say
nothing
.

"I don't think I am really such a nice man," I said.

"Why do you say that, Billy Ray?"

"Well, I turned on Charlene."

"You were upset because you realized she lied to you."

I shook my head slightly.

"I don't know if that was my real reason. I think I might have thought
if I told Mr. Dawson and he told the court, then the
Wiggingtons
wouldn't take Charlene away."

Mr. Green chuckled.

"That is a bit devious there, Billy Ray!"

My face felt hot.

"Maybe if I hadn't done that, you could have gotten Charlene off. Maybe
now she is going to die because of me, because I didn't want her to leave
me."

Mr. Green reached over and punched me lightly on my shoulder.

"Hey, don't get so down on yourself. Chances weren't that good I could
win anyway."

I rubbed my palms over my eyes. Mr. Green had a way with words. I wasn't
sure how his losing the trial would change the fact that I did what I did.

Mr. Green looked me in the eye and winked.

"I said you were a nice man, not a perfect one. Christ, compared to
Charlene you're a bloody saint, so stop kicking yourself."

Yeah, Charlene or whoever she really was.

"So what do you think Mr. Dawson is going to say about Charlene this
time round?

"He doesn't have to say too much
any more
. He
has even more proof that Charlene is a psychopath and my PTSD story bussed out
of town with Cheryl
Wiggington's
family. All I have
is a whore who lied to you, lied to the police, lied to the court, and lied to
a family grieving over the loss of their little girl." He rolled his eyes,
"Oh, and killed a harmless old drifter. I don't think there is a jury
between here and Alaska that is going to have much sympathy for Charlene."

I felt something catch in my throat.

I realized my anger at Charlene had gone away. I wasn't mad at her any more.
Even though she was all those things Mr. Green said, when she had been my
Charlene, she had been a good Charlene. It was the old man who had made her
change into the bad Charlene. I realized I didn't care about anything she had
done before she moved into my house or after she was taken from it.

"Charlene is all I got, Mr. Green, and if she
don't
come home, I don't know what I am going to do." I knew he would think I'm
a fool.

He sighed. "She's a danger to society, Billy Ray."

He pushed back his chair and got up from the table.

I looked up at him. "Maybe she just needs some help from one of those
psychiatrists and she'd be all right."

"I don't think any psychiatrist can help her if she is a psychopath,
Billy Ray. I hear psychopaths don't change no matter what kind of help you give
them. And I don't think I can prove Charlene's crazy. I've tried hard, but
Charlene is her own worst enemy with all those games she plays."

I stared at my hands and remembered how Charlene's fingers would weave
through mine right before she went to sleep with her head against my palm. She
was bad or she was crazy but either way, it seemed it didn't matter. I was
going to end up alone again.

"I'll let you know if I'm withdrawing from the case," Mr. Green
said, suddenly sounding tired. "I'll let you know soon."

********************

I didn't hear from Mr. Green until the middle of February. When he showed
up, he practically broke my door down beating on it until I got out of bed and
let him in.

"Jesus God!" he puffed, his cheeks beat red from the below
freezing temperature outside. "What the hell are you doing sleeping at two
in the afternoon?"

"I was just lying down. I guess I dozed off."

He pulled off his mittens and blew on his hands.

"Have I got some news for you!" he hooted and I wondered what
could make him so excited.

"About Charlene?"

"No. Still don't know anything about Charlene."

I didn't think anything else much mattered.

"What then?"

"I got information on our John Doe!"

"You know who he is?"

Mr. Green waved my question off. "No, I don't know that."

"Okay, you don't know who Charlene is and you don't know who John Doe
is."

The man really made me crazy and my nose still hurt from when he punched it.

"Sit, sit.
All right.
Let me tell you." He
was so excited I didn't interrupt him anymore.

"
Looky
here."
He pushed a paper over at me with two pictures on it. I looked down and felt my
blood go cold.

"It's him, isn't it?" he asked.

I nodded. I would never forget that man's eyes.

"Hah! Knew it! I got a positive ID from the Sheriff, the liquor store
man, and that motel owner over in Bald Eagle. That drifter really was the same
guy."

I looked at the two pictures, the one facing straight out and the one facing
sideways. They were the pictures you get took when they arrest you. I got them
took when they said I killed the old man.

I pointed to what should be his name under the pictures.

"John Doe
, "
Mr. Green told me.

"John Doe? Is that his real name?"

Mr. Green laughed. "No, but it would be funny if it was. No, they never
did figure out who he was. They said they ran his prints but came back with
nothing."

"So what was he arrested for?"

He leaned forward on his hands. "Rape, Billy Ray.
Rape.
Charges ended up dropped but only because the victim disappeared. She was a
hooker like Charlene."

He looked like a rapist.

"Do you think he raped Charlene?"

Mr. Green shrugged. "Anything's possible. She could have been fighting
him off over there at that Bald Eagle motel. He could have tried to rape her."

I remembered the day I went for the cigarettes and came home to Charlene
crying in the corner; the day she stopped talking.

"Do you think," I said slowly, "that he could have raped her
while I was at the store?"

"It's possible."

"Can you rape a whore?"

Mr. Green slapped me on the forehead.

"Of course you can rape a whore. Just because she is saying yes over
here, doesn't mean she is saying yes over there. Chances are he
ain't
exactly having
nicey-nicey
sex with her either. He would be hurting her while he's doing it."

"Could she have sex with me the same day if she was raped
earlier?"

Maybe I shouldn't have been asking those kinds of things. Mr. Green started
stammering. "I really don't know, Billy Ray, I really don't know, I don't
know."

I couldn't help but ask one more question.

"If she was raped, wouldn't it be okay if she killed him?"

Mr. Green smiled. "Well, it would sure be okay with me and I might be
able to find a jury who would think the same thing." "

Mr. Green picked up his folder, put the pictures back in it, and walked to
the front door.

"I'll see you in court, Billy Ray."

He stepped onto the porch and then he turned back around.

"Oh, and, Billy," he said, "If Charlene did have sex with you
after she might have been raped by John Doe, you just keep that between you and
me, understand?"

I nodded and Mr. Green left. This time I understood.

********************

Spring came early to Whitfield Glen.

When I opened the front door in the morning, the sunshine lit up the entire
house and you could feel it warm on your face if you stood there for a bit. I
could see the buds starting to show on the trees and there were birds singing
now. They broke the quiet which made me near crazy in the winter, especially
with Charlene and Big Dog missing from the house.

The trial has been postponed and postponed again. Mr. Green was trying to
get as much time as possible to dig up dirt on John Doe so as to make the jury
hate him enough to let Charlene go or at least get her a lighter sentence. He
even went so far as to get a story put in a state paper about how a young
pregnant girl who killed a suspected rapist was being charged with capital
murder and what a shame that was. It was a good story and made me feel really
sad reading it so I am guessing other people would feel bad for Charlene too.

"Billy Ray!"

I squinted into the sun that had
broke
over the
stubby pines that stood in a row behind dead John Doe's burnt house and I could
make out the figure of Mr. Green carrying something under his arm. He was
moving fast toward me, his step bouncier than I had seen over these last
months, and there he was, standing in front of me, holding out a mud-brown
puppy.

He beamed.

"I got you a new Big Dog, Billy Ray!" Mr. Green laughed and then
shrugged his shoulder a bit. "Well, a new small Big Dog."

The puppy looked at me and yelped.

"Hey then, put the poor dog down, Mr. Green! He don't like being all
held up in the air like that!" I felt myself grinning from ear to ear. He
did look like my old Big Dog had looked when he was that little. I got down on
the ground with him and he started licking my face all over. He smelt like dog
food so I guessed Mr. Green had just fed him before coming out here.

Mr. Green patted me on my shoulder. "He's your good luck charm, Billy
Ray. He is going to be the start of good things for you and Charlene. We are
gonna
win this case and bring Charlene and your baby
home."

I stood up.

"Thanks, Mr. Green. It was real nice of you to find me a new Big
Dog."

Mr. Green shoved a big bag he was gripping in his left hand at me.

"Dog food.
I'll bring you some more next time
I get up here."

I carried the bag into the kitchen and New Big Dog started running from room
to room, sniffing everything out. Mr. Green and I sat down at the kitchen table
and just watched him going crazy. I wondered if he could smell old Big Dog.