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Three Things I Know Are True

Page 10

by Betty Culley


  Maybe I can come some Tuesday

  and she can do mine.

  I see that for Rainie,

  and maybe me, too,

  the lines are blurry

  between nurse, bodyguard, and hairdresser.

  What’s with all that?

  Rainie points her fork

  in the direction of my face.

  You mean my hair? It’s called bangs.

  If you say so.

  Rainie raises her eyebrows

  and we both laugh.

  I give Rainie the bed in Jonah’s old room,

  and I lie down on the floor next to her,

  on top of a scratchy woolen mill blanket.

  I can hear the humming of Jonah’s

  Food Truck,

  the whooshing of O,

  and the loud chirping of a cricket

  that found its way into the house.

  Then something draws me upstairs

  into my parents’ big empty room.

  I look out into the dark at Number 24.

  Clay is standing at his window,

  the dark shadow of his body

  silhouetted by his desk lamp.

  When he sees me,

  he puts a hand flat against his window.

  I put my hand flat to our windowpane

  and we stand there like two aliens

  communicating

  from separate spaceships.

  Back in Jonah’s room,

  I am kept awake,

  not by thinking of the trial tomorrow—

  but by thinking about how sometimes

  the universe

  sends you just what you need—

  right when you need it—

  the gentle sound

  of Rainie’s breathing,

  Clay’s hand.

  Headwater Courthouse

  Outside the courthouse,

  Mom’s lawyer explains

  that we will be wanded

  by a security officer

  to check for metal.

  Even us? I ask him.

  For the first time

  he looks annoyed

  by what I’ve said.

  Yes, Liv, everyone who goes into

  the courthouse today.

  I think maybe he is nervous.

  After all, he is working on “contingency,”

  so if he doesn’t win,

  he doesn’t get paid.

  Whatever money Mom gets,

  he gets one-third.

  If Mom gets nothing,

  he gets one-third of that.

  The security officer’s black wand

  has a name on it

  spelled out in neon-yellow letters—

  Garrett.

  He tells me to put my arms out

  and waves GARRETT

  over me and Mom

  and Mom’s lawyer.

  Nothing magical happens.

  I’m not wearing any “metal.”

  My court outfit is—

  green leggings,

  gray skirt,

  Jonah’s yellow track jersey

  with “CARRIER” on the back

  dressed up with a green scarf.

  No nail polish.

  Jonah is coming separately

  with Johnny and Vivian,

  in a van that can carry him

  in his wheelchair

  with his machines.

  He will get upstairs

  to the courtroom

  in an elevator.

  We walk up a set of stairs

  and on the wall

  is a sign:

  NOTICE:

  FIREARMS PROHIBITED

  IN THIS COURTHOUSE

  I am glad I thought to hold

  Mom’s hand

  on the way up.

  The courtroom has

  four tall windows on each side,

  pale-blue carpet,

  seven doors

  (one in front with a red-and-white EXIT sign over it),

  wooden desks with microphones,

  lots of wooden benches and chairs.

  In some ways

  it reminds me of my geometry classroom—

  there is a blackboard up front

  and the ceiling lights have bugz in them.

  Mom’s lawyer directs us

  to sit on the left side

  of the courtroom.

  Mom sits at a table

  next to him.

  I sit on a bench

  right behind them.

  I see Clay

  sitting next to his father

  on the right side.

  I can tell

  by how still his head is

  that he has his invisible

  astronaut helmet on.

  Gwen sits on Clay’s

  other side.

  Their lawyer sits next to

  Clay’s dad.

  There are two benches

  full of people

  behind them.

  Elinor comes in

  and sits next to me.

  In the benches behind us,

  our cheering section has

  a few neighbors

  from DEAD END,

  a man from Tractor Barn,

  and some people

  I don’t know.

  Like in the Wizard of Oz,

  the judge suddenly appears

  from behind a curtain.

  The judge’s outfit

  is a long black robe

  like a wizard

  or a Halloween witch.

  She looks younger than Mom,

  and her hair is pulled back

  in a tight bun

  so when she looks out

  at the courtroom,

  she doesn’t miss

  anything.

  I feel her

  notice me

  for just a second

  and move on.

  In that second

  she shows her superpower—

  to heat

  up my face

  with her eyes.

  Someone says

  All rise

  and we stand up.

  Then the judge says

  Please be seated

  and we all sit down,

  and the trial begins.

  Jonah

  I am watching the few live flies

  crawl around in the

  ceiling lights

  when Jonah is wheeled in

  through a door in the front

  of the courtroom.

  There is instant silence

  and all heads, even the judge’s,

  turn to look at him.

  I see what they see—

  a skinny teenage boy with

  light-brown hair and pale skin,

  his head held to the support behind him

  with a Velcro strap across his forehead.

  A rubbery chest harness

  holding his body in place in the chair.

  More Velcro holding his feet in place—

  in bright white never-used sneakers.

  A dent on the right side

  of his head.

  Vivian pushes the chair

  and Johnny wheels the portable O.

  I also see what I always see—

  my brother Jonah,

  as Elinor told Mom,

  caught in the belly of the whale.

  Jonah’s eyes are wide open.

  This is only the second time

  he’s left Maddigan

  since he came home

  from the hospital.

  The first time,

  his Food Truck hookup

  came out

  and when the nurses

  couldn’t get it back in,

  he went by ambulance

  to the hospital and back.

  Not much of a field trip.

  Suddenly,

  Jonah’s whole body stiffens

  and stretches,

  his head twists against its str
ap,

  and his raspy voice sounds out

  in the courthouse,

  KUH-LAY KUH-LAY KUH-LAY

  KUH-LAY KUH-LAY

  Jonah looks straight at Clay

  and there’s no mistaking

  what word he’s saying.

  Almost as if he’s being ejected

  from his shuttle

  at warp speed,

  Clay is at Jonah’s side.

  Hey, Jonah, how ya doing?

  KUH-LAY KUH-LAY

  Yeah, Jonah, good to see you, too.

  Jonah looks so astounded

  to see Clay,

  I wonder if he’s been thinking

  that whatever happened to him,

  worse had happened

  to Clay.

  Clay’s father stands up

  and starts shouting at Clay.

  CLAY, CLAY, what are you doing?

  CLAY, get back here right now.

  At one point,

  both Jonah and Clay’s father

  are calling Clay’s name

  at the same time.

  The security officer

  is right there next to Jonah.

  Another security officer

  speaks to the judge.

  Mom’s lawyer looks around at the chaos

  and whispers to Mom,

  but Mom is not paying attention to him.

  Even if the word Jonah said is

  Kuh-lay

  and not Mom,

  it shows her

  he is in there.

  She is staring at Jonah,

  and then she is calling him

  by his name

  for the first time

  since the accident.

  JO-NAH, JO-NAH, JO-NAH

  NO, STOP IT, PLEASE STOP, PLEASE STOP,

  Gwen cries out and covers her eyes.

  I can’t tell

  who she’s talking to—

  Jonah, Clay, Clay’s father, or Mom—

  because everyone is yelling at once.

  I go over to the right side

  and stand in front of Gwen

  and clap my hands,

  GWEN (clap)

  GWEN (clap)

  IT’S OKAY. (clap)

  I know it’s rude

  to clap your hands

  in someone’s face,

  but my hands

  are inspired.

  Gwen uncovers her eyes.

  All right, all right, thank you, Liv, she says,

  and lets out a big breath.

  I can feel her reaching out to me

  like we are meeting

  on the invisible line,

  then remembering we’re

  in the courtroom.

  When I turn away from Gwen,

  I see that my handclaps

  got everyone’s attention,

  because they are all

  staring at me and

  Gwen.

  I push my bangs up

  and stare back at them.

  Clay has a look

  of wonder

  on his face.

  Clay’s father’s face and neck

  are red.

  Mom turns her face

  away.

  Even the judge

  is staring.

  The judge pounds a wooden gavel

  on her table

  and announces that

  everyone gets twenty minutes for

  recess.

  I want to see counsel in chambers NOW.

  She points a finger at Mom’s lawyer

  and Clay’s father’s lawyer.

  Vivian and Johnny turn Jonah around

  and wheel him back through

  the door

  he came in.

  It may not have lasted long,

  and definitely didn’t go

  according to plan,

  but at least Jonah had

  his day in court.

  Courtroom Decorum

  After Mom’s lawyer meets with

  the judge,

  his face is red.

  He scolds us—

  for speaking out of turn,

  walking across the courtroom,

  clapping.

  There’s such a thing as

  courtroom decorum.

  This judge will be deciding

  your case,

  he says.

  Mom has some of her hard look

  back,

  and answers him,

  May I remind you that YOU

  are working for US.

  I air clap for Mom

  behind his back.

  And another thing,

  Mom says,

  Jonah is NOT returning

  to this courtroom.

  You can use the video

  you made

  of him,

  if you like.

  Mom’s lawyer

  looks down at the floor.

  Very well. That’s your call.

  Yes, it is,

  Mom answers.

  If you’ll excuse me,

  I’ll be right back,

  Mom’s lawyer says,

  and exits through one of the three

  back doors.

  It’s just me and Mom.

  She shakes her head at me.

  GWEN?

  Mom draws out the word

  like it’s the longest one

  in the dictionary.

  Gwen makes the fudge,

  I tell Mom.

  Recess

  I look at the big court clock.

  I have seven minutes left

  for recess.

  I run down the stairs

  past

  NOTICE:

  FIREARMS PROHIBITED

  IN THIS COURTHOUSE

  past GARRETT and his

  security officer

  and out the side door

  of the courthouse.

  The parking lot is full.

  I see a bumper sticker

  that says:

  “Prayer is a way to get to heaven—

  trespassing is faster.”

  There is a TV news truck

  and people with microphones

  yell out to me—

  Is Jonah coming back?

  Is that his jersey

  you’re wearing?

  No comment,

  I answer.

  I go around to the river side

  of the courthouse.

  Two hawks are circling over

  the water,

  round and round,

  then gliding

  on air currents,

  the ragged tips of their wings

  outstretched.

  I imagine myself up there with them—

  a colorful hawk in

  green leggings and Jonah’s yellow jersey—

  the other hawks curious but friendly.

  I spread my arms out

  and can feel the wind

  beneath them

  wanting to lift me up.

  Next time I see Clay

  by the river,

  I’ll tell him

  I’m having second thoughts

  about being a beaver.

  If I was a hawk,

  I could follow the river from its

  beginning in Moosehead Lake

  to where it meets the ocean—

  no dams or sluices to

  block my way.

  Witness

  Mom’s lawyer calls Clay

  to the witness stand.

  He stands there

  as still as a wall.

  His ponytail

  hangs just below the collar

  of his white button-down shirt.

  The judge turns to Clay

  and says,

  Would you please state your name for the court.

  Clay LeBlanc

  Could you please spell your first and last name.

  C-L-A-Y L-E-B-L-A-N-C

  Will you raise your right hand, p
lease.

  Clay raises his right hand,

  exactly as he did last night

  in his window.

  Elinor looks over at me

  when my right hand goes up, too.

  Do you solemnly swear that the testimony

  you are about to give will be

  the truth, the whole truth,

  and nothing but the truth,

  so help you God?

  I do.

  Please be seated.

  I put my hand down

  when Clay does.

  Watching Clay,

  there’s something I realize.

  He wants to be up there.

  He’s been waiting

  for this chance.

  He doesn’t know what

  will come of it,

  but he has to do it.

  Just like in the game

  Three Things,

  when you answer

  is when the truth

  surprises you

  by coming out.

  I also see what his parents

  and the judge

  don’t understand

  about Clay, the scientist.

  The Tin Man

  in The Wizard of Oz

  had the biggest heart of all

  but didn’t believe it

  until the Wizard

  gave him the proof

  of the ticking clock.

  Clay believes that

  the facts

  will show

  what is real,

  what was real.

  Firearm

  Maybe I trusted

  too much in

  FIREARMS PROHIBITED

  IN THIS COURTHOUSE

  but I notice

  for the first time

  what is on the desk

  in front of Mom’s lawyer

  with a tan tag tied to it,

  and I shut the curtain

  of my bangs.

  I must make a funny noise,

  because Mom

  and Mom’s lawyer

  turn toward me.

  When I was little,

  I would cross my eyes

  to see double,

  and that skill

  comes back to me

  in the courtroom.

  I see one gun/two guns

  two guns/one gun/two guns

  as my eyes cross

  and uncross.

  Seeing one gun,

  the gun that made Jonah

  who he is now,

  scares me.

  Seeing two guns is just weird.

  So I practice seeing two guns.

  And I quiet the harsh sound

  in my throat

  by lifting my eyes—

  through the slits

  in my bangs—

  back to Clay.

  Clay

  Mom’s lawyer

  is the first to speak.

  Clay, we have the record

  of what you told the police,

  and your deposition.

  But I’d like you to

  tell the court,

  in your own words,

  what happened when

  you and Jonah Carrier

  went into your attic.

  The way Mom’s lawyer

  says this,

  it makes it sound like

  “the court”

  is a person,

 

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