Only the truth, p.7
Only the Truth, page 7
I shook my head. I never drank beer in my whole life.
She came back and sat down beside me and the boozy smell of the beer made me feel sick. Or maybe it was hearing her say Charlene didn't love me. Or maybe it was sitting next to Mrs. Wiggington in her little short skirt that bothered me.
Mrs. Wiggington went right on and told me all about Charlene and their visits.
"Cheryl is real confused, Billy Ray. She told me she didn't want to hurt your feelings but she thinks now she came to stay with you because she couldn't find her way back to us."
"She kind of already told me that."
Mrs. Wiggington nodded and took a long drink of her beer.
"But, she has found her way back to us, Billy Ray. She has her family around her and she is finding it hard to split herself between you and us."
"And I don't matter no more?"
Mrs. Wiggington finished off the beer and she seemed a little drunk.
"Aw, honey, I'm not saying that. I'm saying that," she seemed to realize she was repeating herself, "what I am saying is she finally can be my little girl again; she doesn't want to be a grown up right now with a man she has to take care of. She just wants to be my baby again."
Maybe there was some sense in that. I didn't say nothing though. I just wanted to hear Mrs. Wiggington tell me about Charlene.
She wanted to tell me about her 'Cheryl' too. She leaned against me and told me how she finally could smile again and how she could start getting back all those years she lost when Charlene went missing. She made me uncomfortable and she made me mad.
"Cheryl is going to have such a wonderful time when we get her out of this little bit o' trouble!"
A little trouble? I was beginning to see where Charlene got her craziness from.
"I am going to take Cheryl home and let her ride on the swing she never got to use. We put it up the week after she went missing, thinking maybe it would draw her home.
Mrs. Wiggington got quiet for a minute. She smiled.
"Huh, maybe that ol' swing really did bring her home, you think, Billy Ray?"
I wasn't really thinking of Charlene at home with her family. I was thinking about Charlene sleeping in another bed far away from me.
"Anyway, I want to bring her home and show Cheryl her room with all her stuffed animals still in it. And I want to walk her to her school and back home again. I want her to eat her dinner with us and I want to say prayers with her before she goes to sleep at night."
I just couldn't listen any more.
"Bye, Mrs. Wiggington." I left as quick as I could.
When I looked back, she was standing at the door with another beer in her hand and she was still smiling.
********************
I went back to the house, made myself some tea and forced myself to think things through. I could feel myself hating Mrs. Wiggington for stealing Charlene away from me and I could feel myself hating Charlene for wanting to go with her. But, then I knew if I ever had a little son and he went missing and then I found him a whole bunch of years later, I would want to bring him home to our little house on the hill, and let him see Big Dog, well, if Big Dog were alive, and give him biscuits fresh out of the oven and watch him breathe while he sleeps on our bed. And I'd guess I would want him coming home by hisself and not bring a whole bunch of people I didn't know with him. I could understand all that but I still wanted my Charlene. I didn't want to be alone again. Maybe I should get a new Big Dog.
A new Big Dog. A new Big Dog. That was a nice idea but still it seemed like just a dog wouldn't be enough for me any more. I wanted Charlene. And my baby. I would be a good daddy. I would take good care of him. Play with him. Get him toys. Maybe make him a swing like they did Charlene. He would like that. Kids like swings. It was one of the first things Charlene mentioned when Mr. Green asked her what she remembered; the swing that hung from the big oak tree.
I suddenly had a bad feeling I couldn't identify.
The swing that hung from the old oak tree.
I went and looked under the bed for those papers I took to Charlene way back when I was trying to make her happy in the jail. She didn't seem all that interested in them and she would always give them back to me. I kept them in case I needed to bring something back for her again. I pulled out the stack and went through them one by one, looking at the pictures until I came to the one I didn't want to find.
********************
I couldn't sleep that night. I just rocked back and forth on the bed until the sun came up. Then I went to town. I stopped in at the drug store for a few minutes. When I got to the courthouse, I found Pammy in the hallway and I nodded to her but walked away without even a good morning.
I saw Mr. Green talking with Mrs. Wiggington over by the trial room door. Mr. Green waved at me to come over but I looked away from both of them and kept walking until I found Mr. Dawson sipping his cup of coffee at the end of the hallway. Then I stood in front of him and muttered over and over, "The swing that hung from the old oak tree that Charlene loved so much" and he looked at me as though I were crazy and maybe I was. I held up the old newspaper in front of me. He stared at it for a minute and then I folded it up, put it in my pocket and turned and walked back down the hall. Mr Green was at the end of it and he had been watching me and Mr. Dawson.
"Billy Ray!" He tried to grab my arm, but I pulled away and ran out of the building. I walked home and slept all day while the trial went on.
I opened my eyes when it got dark. I looked around at the empty room and then I closed them again and went back to sleep. I didn't dream at all that night.
********************
I woke up and the house seemed like a big empty box. The house was silent and I sat on the edge of my bed and wondered if I was even alive. I was still dressed from the day before and I walked to the door and picked my coat up off the floor where I had dropped it. I walked back down the road to the courthouse.
********************
January 13 - Day Five
I don't know if that is exactly right because I didn't count yesterday. I really don't care anymore what day it is.
I went and sat down on my bench. Mr. Green turned and looked at me. Then Mr. Dawson turned and smiled at me. I had the urge to run out of the courthouse again but I stayed in my seat and the judge called the court to order.
Mr. Dawson started his day by calling Mrs. Wiggington to the stand. I must have jerked or made a sound or something because Mr. Green smiled over at me and mouthed, "Don't worry."
Charlene smiled for the first time since she had been in the courtroom. Mrs. Wiggington blew her a kiss and Charlene put her hand to her face and blushed.
Mr. Dawson welcomed Mrs. Wiggington to the stand and thanked her for her willingness to share with the court the reuniting of her family with her long lost daughter, Cheryl.
"It's my pleasure," Mr. Dawson.
"I know how hard this must be considering the reunion has come under such difficult circumstances."
Mrs. Wiggington disagreed. "Finding my daughter after all these years is welcome in any circumstance. I love Cheryl and no matter what she has done, I will always love Cheryl."
"I understand Mrs. Wiggington, I understand."
Mr. Dawson cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together.
"Please tell the court the whole story of how Cheryl disappeared from your life and how she came back into it."
Mrs. Wiggington told the whole story and the female members of the jury wept loudly and Mr. Green looked happier with each tear they shed.
Then Mr. Dawson started clapping, very slowly, letting the court know what he thought of her testimony.
"That was most heartfelt, Mrs. Wiggington, and certainly everyone here in the court can sympathize with your plight. Too bad the defendant isn't really your daughter."
Mrs. Wiggington's mouth dropped open and she stared at Mr. Dawson. She tried to speak, but Mr. Dawson quickly cut her off with, "That's all for this witness, Your Honor."
The judge looked over at Mr. Green who was looking over at me and I had no place to look but at the worn spot on the floor in front of me.
"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 feel 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 presed 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."
