30 Days of Justis

by John Ellsworth

  "How about two-thousand?"

  "You're kidding me, right?"

  "I'm not kidding at all. Check your mailbox at the student union. The money will be there waiting for you tomorrow."

  She looks at him, studying his face. But the face—with much of the night—is a blur. She's had too much of something, and she knows it. Then she forgets why she was attempting to memorize his face, to begin with.

  She cannot remember.

  The chemical wave laps at her feet.

  She no longer cares why.

  DAY 11/30

  The next morning, I awaken in my new apartment. Lucky has slept beside me all night long.

  I call the front desk of my hotel.

  "Yes, Mr. Gresham. I was on duty when Millicent came into the hotel. She signed your document and our office staff notarized her signature."

  "Hold it right there. I'm on my way."

  "Certainly, Mr. Gresham. It's safe with us."

  Now what to do with Lucky? Give him the run of the apartment? Or lock him in the bathroom. I decide to lock him instead in the laundry room, as it's on the outside wall just in case Lucky starts howling. Closing the door to the laundry room behind me, I feel like he's safe yet far enough away from any neighbor that his yowling won't be noticed. At least not all that much.

  As I'm driving the SUV back to the hotel, a snippet of something Millie told me in the early days of this journey comes to mind. During the trial court phase of Cache's case, a court clerk asked to speak to her about something she'd seen in Judge Maxim's office. What that was, I can't remember—if she even said.

  The front desk turns over to me the signed affidavit from Millie. Next, I locate the business room and take a scan of her statement, attach it to my counter-motion, and file it electronically with the court in Spokane. So far so good. Then it's back to my SUV to see how Cache is doing today.

  Driving along toward St. Anthony—I can see it in the distance—my cell phone alerts me to an incoming call.

  "Hello?"

  "Michael Gresham?"

  "Speaking."

  "This is Nancy Lloyd. I'm a clerk of the court in Spokane. There's something you need to know about your daughter's case."

  "How did you know to call me?"

  "You just filed a counter-motion in the case. It's my job to check it for official filing."

  "Okay, go ahead."

  "Well, I was the courtroom clerk at your daughter's trial. One afternoon, two weeks ago, while I was working another case, I took a new paper filing to the judge's office. He wasn't in so I left it on his desk. ‘This is standard procedure. But this time I happened to notice a letter on his desk, and it contained the name of Kelly Larsyn, so I stopped, snuck a look around, and read it."

  "You were suspicious of something? Why?"

  "All the clerks, including me, felt Cache should have been allowed to testify. We had all heard the rumors about Wilberforce and his wild parties and his young girls. But we've been afraid to come forward. We're afraid of Maxim and Larsyn and afraid of losing our jobs if Larsyn gets appointed to the bench."

  "And the letter was addressed to the state bar association?"

  "No, it wasn't. In fact, it was addressed to a local bank and instructed the bank to open a new account in the name of Committee to Appoint Kelly Larsyn. It also said it contained a check for ten-thousand-dollars from Judge Maxim himself."

  "Did you tell anyone about this?"

  "There was no one to tell. Judge Maxim was the judge on your daughter's case, and Larsyn was the defense attorney. I'm scared of both of them. But they used her. They trapped her. So, Dot Wilberforce gets to keep her husband's state pension. It's over ten-thousand a month. And she gets to shine at the garden club and the country club and the women's club. A scandal was avoided, thanks to Maxim and Larsyn."

  "And all it cost them was my daughter's life."

  "Yes."

  "I could use a copy of that letter. I don't suppose there is one."

  "We have one."

  I swerve over to the curb; my hands are shaking so hard I have serious difficulty steering.

  "We have one?"

  "I took a picture with my camera. Do you want me to email it to you?"

  She takes down my email and seconds later I hear my phone's tone alerting that a new email has arrived.

  I thank the clerk and end the call. Now I do access the email on my phone. I am trembling as I read the attachment.

  It's exactly as the clerk just told me. The letter is from Judge Maxim and indeed references a ten-thousand-dollar check for Larsyn's appointment campaign.

  Except that's not what it is, not at all.

  It's really a payoff. A payoff for Larsyn allowing Cache to be convicted.

  I pull up around the corner, into a CVS lot. With the aid of my laptop, I'm online with the court in a blink. Thirty minutes later, I've supplemented my earlier counter-motion with the next evidence: the shot of Judge Maxim's letter.

  Now we have newly-discovered evidence that wasn't in existence at the time of her trial.

  Now we get a new trial. And we get a new judge. Plus, a judicial complaint will be filed by me.

  For the first time, I'm feeling hopeful. For the first time, I have something solid to work with.

  Now on to see Cache.

  The guard outside her room has been doubled. Now that she's conscious she's twice as likely to make a run for it? I shrug at them as I round the corner. "Don't worry, gents; you won't have to guard her once when I finish up." They smile and give a thumbs-up. They seem to treat her pretty well. They seem to like her. It makes me proud.

  She's sitting up in bed talking to the nurse when I walk in. Without hesitation she lifts her arms a few inches as if to hug me. I don't hesitate; we hug and exchange a long look. This one is definitely mine, and I'm loving this kid.

  "How are you doing?" I ask.

  "Much better. I actually ate some ice and some Jell-O. Throat." She points at her neck.

  "Still sore, eh?"

  "Yeah. How are you enjoying Gig Harbor?"

  "It's a pretty neat place. I got a dog."

  "You got a dog? I didn't know you were looking."

  "He was run over. We rescued him."

  "We?"

  "Marcel and I. Marcel is my investigator. We're making lots of headway on your case."

  She looks to the nurse and then back to me.

  "What case?"

  My heart falls. "Your case you were in prison over?"

  She smiles then laughs. "I know. I'm only being funny. It just feels so good to be out of prison. This is my first time in over two years. Except for court a couple of times."

  It's an opening, so I jump in. "Speaking of court, is there any reason you didn't testify at your trial?"

  "I wanted to. Mr. Larsyn said I would convict myself if I did. It turns out I also convicted myself by not. Can't win."

  "Tell me exactly what he told you, Cache."

  "Exactly, huh? Let's see. He was very touchy when I brought it up. Like he was angry about something. When I first brought it up, he said something like, ‘Don't even go there, Cache!'"

  "Don't even go there? Asking about testifying set him off?"

  "It did. So we talked another minute, and it was clear he didn't want me on the witness stand. I didn't bring it up again."

  "Did you ever hear him say anything to anybody else about you testifying?"

  "Not really, no. He might've talked about it with my mom, but I wasn't listening. They talked about everything and by then I was just tuning them out because I knew I was a goner anyway."

  "Why a goner?"

  She smiles. "Who is the jury going to believe, the Honorable Hiram Wilberforce or me? They had all the statements he made to June DeWitt. He looked totally innocent in it all—according to him."

  "Tell me about your initial placement with Judge Wilberforce."

  "Not much to say. After my problems at Serenity House, I was glad to go anyplace else."


  "You mean the rape at Serenity House?"

  "I do. That's when I thought I got HIV. One of the boys was a heroin addict. Dirty needles equal poor me."

  "When did you find out about the HIV?"

  "Much later. They examined me at the hospital after the rape. That's when they tested my blood the first time. I was clean then; no HIV."

  "When did the HIV first show up?"

  "It was later. I was living at the judge's house by now. At one point it was time for another blood test. I figured no big deal. But they called me in with June DeWitt. She's my caseworker. They tried not to scare me, but it didn't work. I heard the news, and then I started bawling. I couldn't stop for two days. It wasn't fair. I knew I was hosed."

  "So what about when Judge Wilberforce had sex with you the first time? What happened there?"

  "Not much. But it was before the HIV test where they found me positive. Anyway, it was a Friday night. I won't ever forget. He just held me down and put it in. He had his hand over my mouth, and I couldn't breathe. So I didn't struggle. Then he rolled over and didn't say anything. He caught his breath, stood up, and said, ‘Nice. Thanks." Then he walked out. It happened every day after Dot got pregnant. She wouldn't let him near her. In fact, she was mad at him for getting her pregnant. She was very protective of her figure. But she was very snooty about everything. Her nails, her hair, her smile lines. I know she had work done on her eyes after the baby came. She said the pregnancy gave her crow's feet. Whatever. Give me a break."

  "So he began raping you before the positive test?"

  "It was before."

  "Did you ever tell Judge Wilberforce about the test?"

  "I didn't. I wanted him to catch it from me."

  "You were in a rage?"

  "Wouldn't you be, Michael? I was also naive. I didn't even know it was rape, what he was doing. I just thought it was legal because I wasn't fighting him off now. Besides, there was no one to tell. I knew if I told June I might go back to Serenity House and get hurt again. At least he wasn't violent. Not after that first time."

  "So you were forced to settle for mild rape. The alternative was violent rape."

  "It sounds sick when you put it that way."

  "Cache, I'm only telling the truth. You had nowhere to turn. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

  "That's what made me so mad, Michael. I just knew you would have helped me. I hate her."

  "Millie?"

  "Millie. She really screwed me over."

  I don't know how to respond to that. I agree with Cache. Millie's choices were destructive. That's the mild way of putting it.

  "I suspect she knows and she's very sorry."

  "Then why won't she apologize? Look at me. I'm on death row; I have HIV, I've been used by men and cast aside as soon as the sperm swim off. It isn't all Millie's fault; I'm responsible for my choices. But there were also many times when the thing wasn't my choice. I didn't choose to be raped all those times. But I was in that environment, that exact time and place for it to happen because Millie lied to me about you. I hated her after that. I still do hate. I've forgiven her, but I hate her. Can you forgive someone even if you still hate them?"

  She has me there.

  "I don't know."

  "Well, how do you feel about Millie? She screwed you over too."

  "She did do that. I don't know if I'd phrase it exactly like you have it there, but I do understand why you're saying what you're saying. It's a bad deal all around. One person started it; three people have suffered over it. What happened was counterproductive all around."

  "That's how you'd say it? Counterproductive?"

  "No, I'd rather say she really screwed me over, because she did."

  "Well please stop what you're doing, Michael."

  "What's that?"

  "Saying things you think a parent should say to their kid. Just be yourself for shit's sake."

  "Well—"

  "I can't have a liar holding my hand when my heart stops, and my breath floats off. So just say the truth to me from here on. I've only got nineteen days left."

  "You're counting?"

  "Of course. Just like you and everyone else who knows me. Whatever."

  She slumps down on the bed and pulls the blanket and sheet all the way up to her chin. "Damn, I'm scared of dying."

  "I'm scared for you."

  "Stop it!"

  "All right, I'm scared of dying too. Everyone is."

  "Hold my hand, please!"

  I reach and take her hand. Very gently I apply pressure so that she feels I'm warm and alive and I'm with her. One-hundred percent I'm with her. I pull her hand to my cheek and touch it there. Come with me, I'm saying. Become part of my life, and I'll walk you out of here. I'll give you life a second time.

  But she abruptly pulls her hand away.

  "How long since you've shaved?

  Enough of the internal drama, I tell myself. It's time to do what you do best.

  Trounce them in court.

  I come home and am greeted at the front door by Lucky; Lucky, who should have been shut up in the laundry. Without stopping I head to the laundry room. Lucky ate my apartment. The laundry room door was still closed, but where before there had been drywall, now there was a hole that had been chewed out of the drywall through which Lucky slipped, setting himself free.

  I call the front office of my apartment complex and tell them my dog damaged the wall, and I am prepared to pay for its repair. They're kind and sound like it isn't the first time this has happened. Or least something like that. They advise me they will have maintenance repair the damage and present me with an invoice for the cost. The invoice will be due with next month's rent. They couldn't be any fairer than that, so I thank them and end the call.

  "Lucky, what am I going to do with you?" I've plopped down on my purple couch, and Lucky has joined me, sitting at my side, his head in my lap.

  "So you got lonely? Is that it?"

  My phone chimes and I answer.

  "Michael, Verona here. You haven't called me in almost a day. How's she doing?"

  "We've had a miracle. She's sitting up in bed talking and telling me I’ll have to be more honest with her if I want to hold her hand at her death."

  "Oh, my God!"

  "I know. She's something else. I wish I'd met her long, long ago."

  "But you didn't."

  "I know. It just makes me sad."

  "I am so glad for you. And her."

  "Yes, but we're not out of the woods yet."

  "Are you ready to kick some ass, as you put it."

  "I'm ready; it starts tomorrow in court. I'll be arguing against the state. We have a pretty strong argument seeking a new judge. I'm also requesting denial of the motion to accelerate her execution. That part is moot now anyway, now that she's conscious."

  "Good."

  "Well, how are you? Kids okay?"

  "Kids are fine. They hardly notice you're gone, far as I can tell. Which tells me we're doing a good job with them, so far."

  "They're independent of us?"

  "They're confident in us. They know we'll always come back to them."

  "How about you? You're confident about me?"

  "Speaking of, is Millicent around?"

  "Yes, she's here."

  "You haven't lapsed back into old patterns with her, right?"

  It takes me a second or two to get it.

  "Have I slept with her? Is that what you're asking? The answer is No."

  "I just worry. I know I don't need to. That's a lie; you have a penchant for bedding women whenever my head is turned."

  "Is this why you called me? To ream me out over something I haven't done."

  "Maybe not done, but maybe considered. Is that possible?"

  I have no answer for that. We both know my spotted history.

  "Michael, I think I'm going to fly out and join you for a few days."

  "What about the kids?"

  "I've already called Danny's parents. They woul
d love to come here and visit their grandkids for a few days."

  "Come on, then. Lucky and I will be happy to see you."

  "Lucky?"

  "My dog. I got a dog."

  "We already have a dog, Michael."

  "But this one was a bargain I couldn't pass up. Sometimes we have to spend to save."

  "Meaning you got Lucky free?"

  "He got hit by a car. Marcel and I took him to the animal hospital. There's a rule that says if you pay to patch them up then you own them."

  "Okay, I'm on my way. No, not tomorrow. The next day."

  "Why the delay?"

  "Mikey has a soccer game that I promised him I'd attend. I won't disappoint him. Day after tomorrow I'll be with you."

  "Let me know your flight and time. I'll be waiting."

  We say our goodbyes and end our call.

  I reach down and scratch Lucky's ears. He rolls his eyeballs up at me.

  "Hello. No more walls, okay?"

  His eyeballs don't move. Online I locate a dog boarding service. It's only twenty minutes away, so I load Lucky into my SUV and drop him off. I'm reassured he's in good hands, but then I renege. I can't leave him there alone. It's too soon to do that. Screw it, I tell myself, I'm going to drive to Spokane and take Lucky with me tonight.

  I take a shower and change into cutoffs and my Joe Walsh T-shirt. The rest of the daylight is spent developing and making notes of my argument for tomorrow's court hearing. It seems to be making a whole lot of sense. At least to me.

  At dusk, I pack and load and put Lucky in the front passenger seat beside me. I stop at Petco and buy a dog safety harness for my vehicle. Now Lucky's ready to roll so off we go.

  Six hours later we're checking into a dog-friendly hotel with just enough time left for me to review for tomorrow's court action. Court is at eleven. I've asked Larsyn to stay away. At first, he was miffed, but then he saw I was serious and agreed. I will go it alone tomorrow.

  As Cache told me earlier today, "It's how I roll."

  DAY 12/30

  I've just learned that Franklin Lemongrass, the Assistant Attorney General who visited me in Cache's hospital room, will be representing the State today. We will argue against each other in Judge Maxim's court and learn whether Cache will die now or a week or two later. It's almost moot at this point, true. But what isn't moot is that I get a change of judge ordered by Maxim and that he gives us a new trial.