Chapter 4 – Nylon or Cloth...
Ruth Lawerence rubbed her sister Sophie's arms. “The tablecloth is fine, Sophie. Mr. Reed won't notice if it's nylon instead of cloth.”
“You think?” Sophie's fingers twitched. “Seems too important of an occasion for the nylon tablecloth. Nylon doesn't seem as nice, somehow not as real. You sure he won't take any offense if he sits at my table without my nice cloth?”
“I'm sure, Sophie.”
Sophie Carter shivered as she sat at her kitchen table in the four-bedroom, two-and-a-half bath Cape Cod home her husband Gerald built almost ten years ago, three years prior to his passing from a brain embolism. None of the years she lived in that home without Gerald had been easy, and today felt still harder. But Sophie held her sister Ruth's hand and resisted succumbing to the trembles her nerves sometimes employed to sabotage her in stressful times. She could not hide within her house. She could not escape her troubles by wrapping herself in blankets.
“He can come another day if you're not ready, Sophie.” Ruth said.
Sophie sipped at her coffee. “It's alright. I knew there would be consequences for my actions.”
“No one should blame you for anything, Sophie,” Ruth answered. “Certainly no one in town does.”
Sophie paused to allow a wave of trembling to pass through her hands. “I'm thankful for it. But I won't run from my actions. This afternoon is as good as any other to meet with Mr. Reed.”
Sophie and Ruth did not have to wait long before Mr. Reed knocked upon the front door. Ruth greeted the town attorney and asked how his physical rehabilitation progressed following his knee surgery, a procedure Mr. Reed described as miraculous for the advantages his new, synthetic bone gave him. Ruth had a mug of coffee waiting for Mr. Reed at the kitchen table.
“If I can, Mr. Reed,” Sophie started with a soft voice, “I want to thank you for your help with the estate following Gerald's passing. It helped me make it through a hard time.”
“I was proud to help,” Mr. Reed answered. “Gerald composed the first draft of that will with my father when I first joined his practice. I think my dad would've been proud to know I was there to help you.”
Ruth nodded. “You're a good man to do your father proud.”
The gathering observed an unscheduled moment of silence, the memory of each person gathered at that table momentarily distracted by the company of ghosts. They felt old. The entire town of Portis felt elderly.
Mr. Reed topped his coffee with sugar. “I'm afraid that I bring bad news, Sophie. News concerning the lawsuit Mr. Tosh has brought against you concerning his loss of property.”
“I'm not afraid of the consequences, Mr. Reed.”
Ruth rested a hand on Sophie's shoulder, proud of her sister's strength. She was proud how Sophie had survived following her husband's death. She was proud of all that Sophie did for the community. She was proud of Sophie for shooting that thing that stole her sister's face.
Mr. Reed folded his hands upon the nylon tablecloth. “The court as decided to hear Mr. Tosh's criminal charges against you.”
Sophie's fingers trembled. Color faded from her face.
Ruth held her sister's shoulders. “What kind of criminal charges?”
Mr. Reed inhaled a breath. He knew that Portis was no more or less angelic than most any other town. He had been involved in some troubling cases. But he could not understand how anyone could think Sophie Carter could be responsible for the crime Mr. Tosh charged against her.
“The court is going to hear murder charges against you, Sophie.”
Sophie swayed. He body stiffened in alarm. Her heart raced. But Sophie Carter did not crumble.
“How could they?” Ruth hissed. “What has the world become?”
“Mr. Tosh has hired powerful counsel, Ruth,” Mr. Reed responded. “There are many parties outside of Portis who would have us give the same legal considerations and rights to a synthetic as we give to a woman or man. They provide Mr. Tosh with such counsel. Those parties have conducted a campaign to paint your vandalism as murder.”
Ruth's mouth almost foamed. “It's those damned liberals. Godless people. Traitors all of them.”
Mr. Reed allowed time for Ruth to vent before proceeding. Anger needed emptied as soon as possible. He worried that Sophie was about to become the epicenter of a terrible ideological war. Great pressures approached Portis.
“Make no mistake, Ruth,” Mr. Reed spoke. “This is going to be beyond our politics. This case is going to redefine the very definition of life itself.”
Ruth's eyes teared. “It's blasphemy.”
“Blasphemy or not,” Mr. Reed answered, “Sophie's going to be put in the middle of it.”
“Why didn't we know what Mr. Tosh was planning?” Ruth asked.
Mr. Reed sighed. “I can't say. Mr. Tosh is a private man.”
“I know why,” Sophie spoke. “We forgot that Mr. Tosh thought his Samantha was real.”
Ruth patted her sister's hand. “Well, Sophie, the entire town stands with you. There's courage in that.”
Mr. Reed's finger traced a ring of coffee on the nylon tablecloth. “Mr. Tosh's attorneys realize that. They've been granted a change of venue.”
“What's that?” Ruth asked.
Sophie's chin fell. “It means they're not going to hear the case in the Portis county courthouse. They're going to judge me outside of Portis.”
Mr. Reed took Sophie's hand. “I wish I was finished bringing tough news, Sophie. I have to drive you to the police station. They have to arrest you and bring murder charges against you. Everyone's going to treat you kindly. They all hate that you have to come in. They hate to have to do it.”
Sophie's shook. “Will I have to stay in jail?”
Mr. Reed shook his head. “Someone has already promised to pay your bail.”
“Someone from town?” Ruth asked.
“Not from Portis. Bail for a murder charge is too expensive for anyone here in town. Creighton Dynamic has promised to pay your bond, Sophie. They've promised to pay for your entire defense.”
Sophie gasped. Ruth's face flushed with anger.
“I don't understand,” Sophie whispered.
“Are they mocking my sister?” Ruth growled.
Mr. Reed shook his head.
“But why?” Sophie asked. “Their company makes the synthetics.”
Mr. Reed nodded. “I can't explain why, but Creighton Dynamic believes in your cause. They've promised to represent you.”
“Represent me?” Sophie's lips trembled.
“Aren't you going to represent Sophie?” Ruth stared at Mr. Reed. “You have to represent Sophie. We know you. This is too serious to trust to strangers.”
Mr. Reed spoke softly. “Sophie, this is good news. My office doesn't have the resources for a case on this scale. Creighton Dynamic's attorneys are the cream of the crop. They'll be able to bring everything under Gods' blue sky to your defense. And their representation isn't going to cost you a dime, Sophie. Not a dollar. That's the good news I had to give you today, and trust me when I tell you it trumps all the other news I've had to share with you.”
Ruth clutched her sister as Sophie's chin fell into her chest. “Don't forget that we have common sense on our side, Sophie. You're not a killer.”
“I wonder,” Sophie whispered. “I didn't realize how terrible it all was until now. Don't any of you see how horrible it is? Why, they've abandoned the thing they've created. Imagine if God turned his back on us. It's too awful to consider. But I have to. I've got to face the consequences.”
Mr. Reed excused himself from the table and stepped quietly out of Sophie Carter's home. It seemed to him that the world now orbited that Cape Cod home, with the yellow ribbons showing the community's support pinned to her front yard's oaks, with the front porch filled with the flowers and fruit baskets strangers mailed her to express their solidarity, with the postbox stuffed with handwritten missives promising to stand with Sophie as she face
d undue prosecution in an increasingly Godless world. Mr. Reed already felt exhausted. Pulling out of Sophie Carter's drive, he felt very thankful that his expertise would not be pressed in the defense of God's copyright on creation.
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Plastic Tulips Page 4
