Harvest of Ruins

by Sandra Ruttan

  Sometimes, her dad just listened. Sometimes he turned on the radio and said something about wanting to hear the news. And sometimes, he told his wife to be quiet.

  This time, he said nothing. Vinny’s mother said nothing. She remembered thinking before that there was nothing so bad as listening to her mother tell her dad what a bad girl she’d been.

  She’d been wrong. This was worse. Much, much worse, because Vinny knew the lecture was coming but she had to sit there with a knot in her stomach, feeling sick, just waiting.

  Jonah had told her once that if kids are very bad their parents could send them away. He’d told her that there were homes where unwanted boys and girls went to live if they were really naughty.

  Vinny had always thought that as long as her dad loved her he’d never let Mother send her away.

  She wondered what would happen now that he was so disappointed with her.

  ***

  When Mrs. Crosby was finished reading, the room was still. Hunter glanced at Troy Grainger and wondered why he hadn’t begun questioning until she saw the frown on her own attorney’s face.

  Then she understood. Grainger was letting it sink in.

  Somehow, the stories of Vinny’s childhood were taking root with the jury. She was not just a name anymore. Vinny was becoming a person.

  Someone they could care about.

  Grainger broke the silence. “Mrs. Crosby, based on that assignment, did you think that Evelyn Shepherd was a bad child?”

  “No.”

  "Any other impressions from this assignment? Of Ms. Shepherd, not of her writing.”

  “I thought she was brave.”

  “Brave?”

  "It takes courage to address such a traumatic event from one's life. Many adults can't bear to even admit they've been assaulted, let alone write about it."

  "And what about Evelyn's relationship with her parents? She seems to be quite concerned about what her father will think."

  "Yes. Evelyn was always close to her father."

  "She wasn't close to her mother?"

  Mrs. Crosby paused. "I can only say what my impressions were, based on what she wrote and what she told me. Evelyn was extremely close to her father."

  "It must have been hard on her when her parents divorced."

  "Yes."

  "How did Evelyn adjust?"

  "She seemed to feel," Mrs. Crosby paused, "displaced."

  "You mean because her mother remarried and had another child?"

  "Perhaps," Mrs. Crosby said. 'But my impression was it was more than that."

  "You mean, because of her father's involvements?"

  Mrs. Crosby paused, and glanced at Hunter. "Yes."

  Grainger flipped through a sheaf of papers and extracted some.

  "This was another item Evelyn wrote for your class," he scanned the document for a date, "two years ago, wasn't it?"

  Mrs. Crosby took the papers and looked at them. "Yes."

  "Did anything about this piece of writing strike you as odd?"

  "Just Evelyn's choice to write in third person again."

  "But earlier you suggested that showed an ability to analyze herself on a different level."

  "Yes, but," Mrs. Crosby paused, "it also could show an inability to really accept things that happened to her and process them as her own experiences."

  As Grainger sat down he asked her to read them. This time, the color seeped out of Mrs. Crosby's cheeks, and she didn't look at Hunter.

  ***

  “So, what’s new?”

  Vinny raised one shoulder and let it drop without looking up as she looked away from the sink filled with water. Her hand made methodical circles as she dragged the tea towel over the plate.

  Dad didn’t believe in air drying. Or, apparently, dishwashers.

  “How’s school?”

  Another shrug as she pushed herself up on the tips of her toes and slid the plate on top of the pile. The kitchen was what Mother called serviceable. The blandest cupboards, relieved by the faded yellow wallpaper that looked like it had been put up in the 60s.

  “Didn’t the notice from your teacher say something about a career fair?”

  How did he know about that? One thing her mother had never done was copy school information for her dad. Vinny sometimes stopped by the counselor’s office, where she was allowed to use the photocopier, but she hadn’t done so since the start of the new school year.

  “I get e-mail alerts from the school, Vinny. And updates from your teacher.” As though he could read her mind and knew what she was thinking.

  “Why?”

  He yanked the plug from the drain and dropped it into the sink as he stared at her. “Why? Why do you think?”

  She shrugged again and busied herself with drying off the counter.

  “Look, Sweatpea, I don’t want to fight. I just want to enjoy this weekend. I got tickets to the Leafs game tomorrow. I got an extra one. Why don’t you invite one of your friends? I bet Jesse would love to go.”

  “He’s busy.”

  “You’re sure? We can call.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” Jesse had a league game of his own in the morning. He’d been bugging her to come watch for days.

  “Well, then, what about Jonah?”

  “You want to take out the trash?” Repeating what Mother had said to her so many times, she’d lost count.

  “Vinny!” Her father’s voice boomed in her ears and she flinched as he slammed his hand down on the counter. “Nobody who lives under my roof talks like that.”

  “I don’t live here,” she muttered. There was no point trying to explain why it had slipped out. That she didn’t think that.

  He blew out a breath. “Where’d you hear that kind of talk?” When she didn’t answer he said, “Of course. Rose. She never liked Jonah.” Dad shook his head and muttered under his breath, “I don’t believe this.”

  “Ivy.”

  “What?”

  Vinny cleared her throat. “What about Ivy?”

  “No.”

  She threw the towel down. “Why not? You want me to invite a friend.”

  “That girl is a bad influence.” Her dad walked toward the living room, then stopped and looked at her. “Is that who you heard that talk from?”

  She folded her arms across her chest and stared back at him. For a moment he held her gaze, and then the corners of his eyes dropped along with his shoulders. “I don’t even know who you are anymore, Vinny.”

  “Whose fault is that?”

  “Where’d this smart mouth come from? Are you trying to start an argument?”

  Vinny rolled her eyes. “You’re the one who doesn’t want to talk about anything.”

  “You want to talk? What do you want to talk about? Obviously not school.”

  “How about why you won’t let me invite my best friend?”

  He stared at her with his mouth open, then shook his head. “Ivy Dorn isn’t your friend, Vinny. She’s trouble. There’s never been anything good about that girl or you hanging out with her.”

  “Mother likes her.”

  “Of course she does. Ivy’s the daughter Rose wanted, instead of you.”

  Vinny stomped off, down the hall, toward the spare room. She heard her dad following, telling her to stop, but she kept going until she’d slammed the door, fell back against it and slid to the floor.

  “I’m… I’m sorry, Vinny. I shouldn’t have said that. That wasn’t fair.”

  She ignored the muffled words as she wiped the tears from her face. Mother didn’t like Jonah. Daddy didn’t like Ivy. Mother adored Ivy, and liked Jesse. Daddy thought Jesse could be a bit of a troublemaker.

  His words. Said how many times, both before and after that day at the old farm when they got caught sneaking around the barn? Mother'd been so angry. Daddy knew kids pushed the lines, but he'd been so disappointed. Mother. Stay away from the Colville Farm.

  Half-white trash. Mother’s words, about Jonah. Ivy muffling her giggle with her
hand when she heard Rose talk that way. Mock shock at hearing an adult say something so inappropriate. The twinkle in her eye telling a different story. Approval. Agreement.

  ***

  As she sat on the floor of the guest bedroom – the Spartan room with faded beige carpet and dull white walls she guessed she was supposed to consider her own– she thought about how much had changed over the past few years.

  And how much had stayed the same.

  She wasn’t sure how long it was before she became vaguely aware of her dad’s footsteps as he shuffled back down the hall.

  ***

  When Vinny woke up on the floor of the room, she could tell it was dark outside. A steady smattering of rain pelted the window, and the chill cut through her skin, right to the bone; that damp chill, when the moisture fills the air and you can’t shake the feeling of cold. She shivered, and pulled a sweater over her head, wincing as she did. Her left arm was stiff from how she’d been lying on it, and she bent and unbent it a few times to take the kinks out. As she stood up she glanced at the clock. 9:29. It wasn’t late. Not too late to go down the hall, find her dad, make up for the fight, settle into an uneasy truce. Maybe watch a movie.

  Did she want to? It didn’t matter. Ever since her parents divorced it had felt like she lived to make one of them happy by doing what they wanted. It wasn’t about what she wanted. The more she thought about her childhood, the more she realized her life had always been that way. It was about doing whatever was easiest at the time, so that nobody would get too mad at her.

  She stood up and pulled the door open, then walked down the hall. Vinny never had fleshed out much over the years, and remained toothpick skinny, a fact her mother never failed to point out. As a result, she moved with a stealth that would make a stalker jealous.

  The end of the hall met the kitchen and the entrance to the house. Just around the corner was the opening to the living room. She was about to turn the bend when she realized she heard a voice, low and clear. Her dad’s.

  “I’ve never heard her talk that way.” A pause. She strained to hear. Did he have someone over or was he on the phone?

  “Evelyn’s troubled. And that friend of hers, Ivy, she is trouble.” The voice was familiar somehow, but she couldn’t place it.

  “I know, but what can I do? I thought… I don’t know what I think anymore. Why did I leave Vinny with her mother?”

  “Because it made sense.”

  “Did it? Did it really?”

  “You have to stop beating yourself up over this, Tom. You don’t really think Rose would have let you take Evelyn, do you?”

  “I don’t know.” His voice was filled with doubt and frustration. The woman’s voice responded clearly, with a firm certainty.

  “Even if she didn’t want her, she wouldn’t want you to have her.”

  Was that true? Hadn’t her mother wanted her? Wasn’t it Daddy who’d decided to leave and not fight for custody?

  “I know you’re right, I just wish I could fix it. She needs another voice in her head, not that racist, elitist crap Rose spouts.”

  “Just be here for her when she’s with you. Be the other voice. It’s all you can do.”

  Vinny inched her head around the wall, until one eye could see into the living room. Her dad stood with a woman in front of him. Her hands were on his arms. His forehead rested on her shoulder. The woman brought her hands up and lifted his head, stroked his cheek, reached up and kissed him.

  Mother had someone else. She’d just never thought about Daddy having a new girlfriend or getting married again. Her parents were divorced, so it should be fair for him to move on…

  The kiss ended quickly, but was followed with another kiss. Her dad’s arms wrapped around the woman’s body.

  Vinny looked down at the floor for a second. Running around with that tramp. Something her mother had said once. Crying on the phone, after Dad had moved out.

  When she looked up again they’d come up for air. Her dad was unbuttoning the woman’s shirt and for the first time Vinny had a clear view of her face.

  Hunter McKenna. Dad's old partner.

  She pulled herself back around the wall as the woman’s shirt slid to the floor, and quietly snuck back down the hall to her room.

  Vinny wondered if it was a trick of the lights that made the room seem to be a dark blue, the walls like waves of water, the carpet like the dark, dark water in the depths below, where the sunlight can’t reach.

  ***

  The court was silent. Hunter felt as though every person in the room was staring at her.

  Judging her. How could she not accept some responsibility for the emotional turmoil Evelyn had been in?

  Solomon didn't look at her. At that moment, she wished she'd hired a female attorney.

  "Mrs. Crosby, did you see or speak to Evelyn Shepherd after she was released from the hospital following her overdose?"

  "Yes."

  "And did Evelyn Shepherd tell you that she'd overheard her father speaking to DS McKenna in the hospital?

  Another yes.

  "Mrs. Crosby, did Evelyn tell you she'd done something as a result of what she heard in that room?"

  Clever. He was avoiding asking her what Evelyn had heard. Grainger couldn't be accused of trying to admit hearsay evidence, but he was slipping it in all the same.

  Mrs. Crosby named an address and a time. "She went there and watched her father meet with DS McKenna, and DS McKenna's daughter."

  "DS McKenna's daughter?"

  "Yes." Mrs. Crosby barely whispered the word. "Evelyn's half-sister."

  There was a murmur in the court, and Grainger quickly spoke. "I'm a little confused, Mrs. Crosby," he said. "We know Evelyn's mother has a daughter named Lily, who is Evelyn's half-sister."

  "Yes, but that day in the hospital, Evelyn learned that DS McKenna and Thomas Shepherd have a five-year-old daughter named Audra. Evelyn's half-sister."

  There were gasps in the courtroom as the truth hit home. Hunter resisted the urge to cover her face with her hands.

  Her daughter, extracted and used as a weapon against her. The judge called for order, Grainger called an end to his testimony, and Solomon declined to question Mrs. Crosby at this time.

  Grainger called Ivy Dorn next. Her wavy blonde hair echoed her curvaceous body, but Hunter noted that today, for court, Ivy had selected a modest dress with a concealing jacket that made her look more like a secretary than a high school student.

  Once all the usual formalities were out of the way, Grainger got straight to the point.

  "Ms. Dorn, when Evelyn Shepherd went to watch her father with DS McKenna," Grainger turned and gestured toward her as he said her name, "and their daughter, were you with her?"

  Ivy's cheeks flushed. "Well, not exactly."

  "Not exactly, Ms. Dorn?"

  Ivy offered a sheepish, apologetic look at the jury. "I followed her."

  "I see. And why did you follow Evelyn?"

  "I was just so worried about her. Ever since that detective," Ivy paused and swept her hair back from her face, "I mean, DS. McKenna, started asking questions, Evelyn had been acting strange."

  "You were worried about her?"

  "Yes, a lot. Evelyn and her father used to be so close and when he started seeing DS McKenna and Evelyn's parents got divorced it was really hard on her."

  Was it Hunter's imagination, or did Ivy's lower lip quiver?

  "I don't think Evelyn really ever got over it," Ivy said.

  "What happened that day that you followed Evelyn?"

  Ivy paused, glanced at Hunter, and then recounted everything she'd seen. By the time Ivy was finished she felt sick. A moment in Audra's life that had seemed so perfect, so right, was making her stomach twist in knots. Instead of the uniting of a child and her father it was a wedge between a father and his other child.

  It was an emotional deathblow to a girl who'd already been devastated by her father's affair, and her parent's divorce.

  "Now, Ms. Dor
n, Mrs. Crosby read some of Evelyn's school assignments for the court, and I have to say that in one of them, it didn't sound like Mr. Shepherd liked you very much."

  Ivy dabbed a tissue at the corners of her eyes and then waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, it really wasn't like that. It was just… hard for Mr. Shepherd. Evelyn and I got to be friends right around the time he and Evelyn's mom were splitting up, so he never really got to know me. Not the way Evelyn's mother did."

  Solomon glanced at Hunter, and when Grainger finally finished his questions, Solomon delayed his cross-examination.

  Judge Ackerley dismissed the court, and as Hunter stood up she saw Grainger cast a smile at Solomon. To Hunter, he looked smug.

  Overconfident.

  Victorious.

  As much as any police officer wanted a jury’s verdict to be about evidence, she knew how often the outcome of a trial was affected by emotion. Grainger was bringing Evelyn Shepherd to life in the courtroom, and the jury would never even need to see her in person to care about her. Her own lawyer was concerned that a forceful rebuttal at this point would alienate the jury, who would see him as attacking a teenage girl.

  Which left her with nothing to do, other than prepare for an afternoon of watching and waiting in court, while they stacked the deck against her.

  PAST THE POINT OF RESCUE

  - Hal Ketchum -

  News Review

  Meadow Stansfield leaned forward, as though she was eagerly anticipating her colleague's prompt.

  "There were shocking revelations during today's testimony in the trial of Detective Sergeant Hunter McKenna, weren't there?" Ginger Hadley said.

  "That's right, Ginger," Meadow Stansfield said. "DS McKenna, who's charged with the negligent homicide of her former partner, Thomas Shepherd, appeared visibly shaken by the revelation that Evelyn Shepherd had overheard McKenna making plans with her father, and in the process Evelyn learned her father and DS McKenna had a child."