From a Single Seed: A Novel
Page 34
He opened some windows and stood before his fan while he guzzled a bottle of Gatorade. His apartment would probably be cooler if he dared leave the windows open when he was out, but he wasn’t yet comfortable in his new urban environment. He showered before organizing his lecture notes from the day. He almost couldn’t believe that he had attended a lecture by the legendary Elizabeth Loftus. Her research on memory had been groundbreaking.
The heat in the apartment and the throb of his fan conspired to make it difficult to do any more reading, so he gave up and got ready for bed. It was definitely easier to read in the air-conditioned library.
After he clicked off his bedside light, he thought of Shannon, as he always did, before falling asleep. Recently, he also wondered how her mother would feel about him being only a county away.
Shannon struggled against her wet clothing, trying to keep her head above the water that marched onward and boiled, sweeping her downstream. The falls rumbled.
She was swimming now, fighting the water with all her strength.
The falls thundered.
“Keenan!” she cried, as she went over the edge.
Keenan awoke with a start. He knew now that Shannon had drowned by accident, not because she was depressed, or suicidal, as he had often guiltily imagined. He knew now that she had called to him, and that meant that she had loved him and trusted him up to her last breath.
A feeling of calm came over him. Acceptance. That’s what it was. He had studied the stages of grief in his early psychology classes. It could be nothing other than acceptance.
As he went through his morning routine, he continued to feel different, lighter.
“Thanks, Shannon,” he said aloud as he picked up his backpack. Today, he would see if Marnie wanted to have coffee with him after class. She was cute, with adorable dimples, and a bouncy walk. It was time. And, he was pretty sure she’d say yes.
Author’s Note
When I set out to write this novel, I wanted to show how a person whose only mistake was to cooperate with the police could be made to look guilty of a most serious crime. At first, I was focused on police investigation techniques and how a suspicion based solely on statistical likelihood and/or a stereotype can become leading questions designed to explore that suspicion can become the memory of the witnesses questioned.
But as the story developed, I realized that, in our current culture, the police are not the only ones at fault for the spread of misinformation. They may be the ones to plant the seed, but social media is a place for opinions and speculation as much as fact. And once an idea becomes widespread, it becomes it's own truth.
Thus, in my mind, the title of this novel refers both to the inadvertent spread of misinformation by investigating officers and also the intentional spread of misinformation by our gossip-loving culture enamored of social media. With it's lightning speed, social media has done much to increase awareness of police misconduct and civil rights violations, but it's wise to remember that it's a double-edged sword.
My good friend the fictional Dr. Lapitas again makes an appearance in this novel. As always, his expert testimony is based on actual studies by researchers in the field of cognitive psychology and memory proving the unreliability of human memory and the ease with which false memories can be planted. And yet, most jurors in criminal cases will make their decisions without any inkling of this research.
I also note that the premise of this story is based on the case of Nicholas Garza, who disappeared from the campus of Middlebury College during his freshman year in 2008. His body was found several months later below the falls on Otter Creek in downtown Middlebury. In that case, the body was pristine and there were witnesses who acknowledged that they had seen him drinking large quantities in the hours before his disappearance. Thus, the official conclusion was accidental drowning based on intoxication, despite inconclusive toxicology test results. It occurred to me that, if Nick had been a female with a stereotypical boyfriend and the body had been damaged before becoming wedged, the results of the investigation may have been different. Regardless, what happened to Nick was a tragedy, and his death should provide an impetus for change in the culture of drinking secrecy that has done nothing to encourage responsible alcohol consumption on college campuses.
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Also, look for Teri Ames’ previous novel, All About the Greater Good, available from book retailers.
Acknowledgments
I again find myself indebted to friends who helped to refine this story by reading drafts and sharing their considerable experience and expertise. Amy Rast and Antonia Losano have my eternal gratitude for editing help. Thanks also to Tom Yurista, Sarah Kearns, Barbara Kolysko, Betsy Cartland, Sarah Star, Kathy Hall, and Naomi Smith.
Special thanks to my editor, Barbara Bamberger Scott, who gave the story a better ending.
Dedication
To Jane Ames,
a mother who would have been there