Harvest of Ruins

by Sandra Ruttan

  “You know how Ivy is.”

  “I have some idea.”

  “It wasn’t just Ivy, though. Vinny did whatever Jesse wanted. And then she did what Ivy wanted.”

  “Not the most complimentary thing to hear about your daughter, is it?”

  “It’s what her mother told her to do.” Jonah looked up as he realized what he’d said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. The truth knows no feelings, Jonah. There will be times you’ll have to do the right thing, knowing that as a result families are ripped apart, that people are hurt. Good people make mistakes too.”

  Jonah nodded.

  “Do you think Vinny might be a different person today if she had to answer for what she did to you?”

  Jonah looked at him for a moment and appeared to grapple with the question as he projected possible outcomes. “Probably.”

  “Look, your grades are excellent and you’re a model student. You can’t let anything mess that up.”

  “I won’t, sir.” Jonah flushed. “Tom.”

  “You’ll make a fine police officer, Jonah.”

  After the meal he drove Jonah back to town. When he pulled up in front of Jonah’s home they got out of the car.

  “You really think I can make it?” Jonah asked him.

  He saw Tom look at the overflowing bags of trash by the driveway, pushed away the wave of nausea that rose in response to the stench. Then Tom looked at the sagging trailer that was stained with age and weather, and the bits of rusted broken furniture that were scattered around the area he supposed the family thought passed for a yard.

  “Yes. Yes I do,” Tom said.

  “What I said about Vinny? She just… needs to get away from her mother and Ivy. If she does, she’ll be okay.”

  “It’s too bad she’s too weak to stand up for herself.”

  “Well, that’s most of us, isn’t it? It isn’t easy to walk alone.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Tom said.

  “She’s a good person. She’ll remember that some day.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know it, sir.”

  Tom smiled.

  “The truth is, there are other things, things Vinny wasn’t part of, that I should have said something about.”

  Before Tom could ask, the crunch of gravel behind him made them turn. Two police officers exited a vehicle and walked toward them.

  “Jonah Tyson?” the taller, dark officer asked. The other one, who was fair and lean, remained silent.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “We’d like to ask you some questions.”

  Tom pulled out his ID and showed it to the officer. “Is this about the death of Adam Fields?” he asked.

  The offer’s brow furrowed for a second, but he shook his head, then looked at Jonah. “We need you to come with us to answer questions about the rape of Evelyn Shepherd.”

  “Wh-what are you talking about?” Jonah said. He looked at Tom, knew the fear was in his eyes.

  “I’m sure a boy your age knows what 'no' means.”

  Jonah’s cheeks flushed as the officer put the cuffs on his wrists.

  The other officer started reading Jonah his rights.

  They weren’t taking him in for questioning. They were arresting him.

  Tom stared at them while they put Jonah into the vehicle.

  The rape of Evelyn Shepherd…

  ***

  The courtroom was still as a graveyard on a windless winter day.

  “Since you have the right against self incrimination, obviously we can’t ask you about the rape,” Grainger said.

  Solomon jumped up. “Your Honor, I-”

  “Save it, counselor. If you didn’t object, I would.” Judge Ackerley glared at Grainger. “This is your witness, and he’s been completely cooperative. You have no grounds to treat him as hostile.”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Grainger said.

  "But the charges were dropped," Jonah said. "My name was cleared."

  "Evelyn Shepherd wasn't raped?"

  Jonah looked scared. His mouth hung open for a second. "I-I… No. I didn't rape Evelyn Shepherd."

  "Did you have sex with Evelyn Shepherd?"

  "No," Jonah whispered. "I didn't touch her."

  "So Evelyn Shepherd was not raped, and that couldn't have been another contributing factor to her mental state when she shot her father."

  Jonah looked at Hunter, but he didn't have to answer. Solomon was already on his feet, and the judge ordered the jury to disregard Grainger's comments.

  Hunter glanced at Grainger, and thought she saw the shadow of a smile. She knew that look, when he'd scored more points than he'd lost in the process of sneaking something in the back door.

  He'd told her once that no matter what a judge said, even if the jury couldn't talk about it in deliberations, it was a seed in their minds. Whole cases had turned on subjective evidence.

  Grainger walked back to his chair and sat down. "Some might think it a mistake to put you on the stand, Mr. Tyson. You've slandered one of my key witnesses-"

  "Objection, Your Honor. The prosecution is testifying," Solomon said. "And I might suggest committing slander himself. He has no proof that Mr. Tyson's testimony has been anything other than accurate and credible but he is polluting the jury and their image of this young man."

  "Sustained. Mr. Grainger, do not test my patience," Judge Ackerley said as she glared at the prosecutor.

  “I therefore have no further questions for this witness," Grainger said.

  Hunter almost breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, a witness who could help them refute Grainger's case.

  “Your witness, Mr. Solomon,” the judge said.

  “Your Honor," Solomon paused, "I have no questions for this witness at this time."

  The all-too-predictable murmur in the courtroom was quelled with a wave of the judge’s hand. “You have the right to recall this witness at a later time if you see fit,” she said before turning to Jonah. “You may step down.”

  Jonah stared at Hunter for a moment, then got up and exited the courtroom.

  THE SHOW IS FREE

  - Doc Walker -

  Once Rose Chadwick was sworn in and seated on the witness stand, Grainger offered some hollow platitudes, about how he knew what a difficult time this was for her, but that he needed to ask her some questions.

  He led her through some of Evelyn's childish rebellions, and painted a picture of a girl who loved her father more than anyone.

  "Mrs. Chadwick," Grainger asked, his voice barely above a whisper, "did you feel excluded by the bond between Evelyn and your ex-husband?

  Rose covered her face and cried. Her shoulders even shook.

  If Hunter had been at the police station she would have considered it a hell of a performance, and completely fake, but as she looked around the courtroom she could see Rose had sold herself to the jury. The men swallowed lumps in their throat, and one woman even wiped a tear from her eye.

  “That’s alright, Mrs. Chadwick.” Grainger’s voice was soothing, comforting. “Take your time.”

  Rose Chadwick delicately blew her nose and after discreetly discarding her tissue, took another from the box Grainger had stood up to extend to her. She dabbed her eyes.

  “I-I’m okay.”

  "How did you feel about your relationship with your daughter?"

  "Well," Rose dabbed at an invisible tear, "I suppose I'm like any other mother. And with Thomas working such odd hours as a police officer even when we were still married, it was up to me to make the rules and enforce them."

  "Did you feel Evelyn resented you because you were the disciplinarian?"

  "I suppose it’s my fault. I was so upset with her when she did things that were unsafe sometimes, but I was just so scared. I know every child has their moments… But we, we have to have rules for our children, don’t we?” Her voice had dropped to barely more than a whisper. “Rules to keep them safe?”

  “Of course we do.” Grainger
sounded emphatic. “Do you believe your rules were reasonable?”

  “Well, yes, for the most part. But perhaps I should have been more lenient about the books. It was just…” Rose cast a thin, helpless smile at the jury. “You know how it is with fathers and daughters. Tom and Evelyn were so close when she was young. And you live with such a fear when your husband's a police officer. You just don't know. I was so afraid Evelyn would want to be a police officer, too.”

  “I understand, Mrs. Chadwick. And yet Evelyn’s teacher read for the court an account of events between Evelyn and her father later, when she was older, and it seemed their relationship was quite strained.”

  “Objection, Your Honor.” Solomon stood up. “My esteemed colleague is drawing conclusions.”

  “Sustained. The jury will disregard,” the judge said.

  As Solomon sat down, Grainger smoothed his tie. “Did you feel their relationship changed as Evelyn got older?”

  “Well, yes. Evelyn became aware of the reasons for our divorce. And she started to see things differently as she grew up.”

  The questioning continued. Hunter saw the sympathetic nods from the jury, the way they all watched Rose Chadwick as though under a spell. As Grainger's questioning continued, Rose helped create an image of a girl who felt lost when she learned about her father's affair, how her life was ripped apart by the actions of a selfish woman who destroyed their family.

  Hunter tried to make her mind drift so that she wouldn't focus on the accusations against her, until one of Grainger's questions jolted her back to reality.

  “You’re talking about the affair her father had with the defendant, his former partner, Hunter McKenna?”

  Rose Chadwick nodded.

  “I’m sorry,” Grainger said softly, “but I do need you to answer the question for the court record.”

  “Yes,” Rose Chadwick whispered.

  “Mrs. Chadwick, I understand it must be difficult to talk about how you were betrayed.”

  As Grainger paused, Hunter was again reminded of just how good he was at the subtle art of manipulation. He let that word dangle in the air so that everyone hung on it.

  “As you’re aware, one of Evelyn’s teachers has provided some of her writings about her childhood and her memories of different events, and some of those papers have been read for the court by the teacher. We’ve already heard from one of Evelyn’s accounts, about witnessing her father and Ms. McKenna together.”

  Rose Chadwick raised her hand over her mouth. She looked like she was stifling a gasp.

  Hunter had to hand it to her. Rose was good. As Grainger continued to question her, Hunter felt more and more nauseous. Not because of what Rose was saying. She didn’t like it, but she expected it.

  No, what bothered her was the growing, visible sympathy that Rose Chadwick was receiving from the jury.

  Beside her, Solomon was like stone.

  “Your Honor, the prosecution has no further questions for this witness.”

  Solomon was offered his opening. As he stood up, Rose Chadwick shifted in her seat. The lines of her face had hardened and she appeared to be bracing herself for the onslaught of questions that would follow.

  “Your Honor, the defense has no questions for this witness at this time, but would like to reserve the right to recall this witness.”

  “Granted. The court is in recess until 9 am tomorrow morning.”

  The judge banged the gavel. All around her, Hunter could sense the confusion of the jury, reporters, and even Grainger cast a puzzled glance in their direction.

  So far, witness after witness, Grainger had been drawing all the blood while Solomon had limited himself to a handful of objections, a few simple questions, and nothing of substance to undermine Grainger’s witnesses.

  Day after day the reporters were tightening the noose around her neck. Hunter hoped her lawyer had a plan, but if he did, he wasn’t sharing.

  HEAVEN IS THE LAST PLACE

  - Jimmy Rankin -

  It was odd, the contrast between reality and emotion. Hunter felt like all the color had been extracted from the world. Consumed by the case, her outlook was pretty bleak.

  Anything but the array of fall colors that splashed red, orange and gold against a clear, blue sky.

  When Noah arrived at the park bench with Tim Hortons hot chocolate and donuts in hand, he gave Hunter a look.

  "Hey, I had a solid two hours of sleep this morning," she told him. "It can't be as bad as last time."

  He handed her a mug. "No more dreams?"

  "No such luck. But it was stranger last night. Scattered. Like I wasn't seeing the whole picture. More like real dreams."

  "Just crazy nonsensical stuff, then?"

  She shook her head. To Noah, she must have always looked a bit of a mess. He looked like he could slip into a three piece suit and run for mayor in a heartbeat. How did he always manage to look that good? "Sex. Death. A flash of someone falling. Panic. The feeling Vinny was there, but it was jumbled somehow. And then scribbling. Words on a page. The sound of lead scratching the paper." She took a sip of her drink. "And then I was back in Vinny's head, falling with her, to the floor of the old barn, the one on the Colville Farm. I felt her arm snap." She glanced at Noah. "That really happened. I remember it from when I first met Vinny. She'd snuck off to the old farm property with Jesse and Jonah and fallen from the loft in the barn."

  "Kids shouldn't go in there."

  "Nobody should. I'm surprised they didn't bulldoze the buildings years ago. It's a magnet for curious kids."

  Noah looked at her for a moment. "What about the writing?"

  "None of it made sense."

  He was silent for a moment before he asked, "Did Vinny keep a diary?"

  Hunter shrugged. "To be honest with you, I don't even remember."

  A deep frown had settled into his face, but as quickly as it had appeared it evaporated. "I'd like to know what your lawyer's thinking."

  Hunter groaned.

  "Listen," Noah said, "it isn't my business, but it seems odd. He's just sitting there, letting Grainger score points, and it doesn't seem like he's even trying to get on the board."

  Hunter took a sip of her drink and didn't answer.

  Noah had summed up the conclusions of the reporters covering her trial. As far as they were concerned, Solomon was sleepwalking through the proceedings, and she was fighting her own doubts.

  There was nothing she could say.

  "You said last night wasn't so bad, but are you still having those dreams?" Noah asked her.

  The dreams. She'd woken again, instantly awake, lying in bed in a cold sweat, trying to rationalize away the certainty that she'd just seen part of Evelyn Shepherd's life through Evelyn's eyes.

  ***

  Vinny was lying on her back, on the hill, staring up at a deep blue sky. A few puffy white clouds drifted in the distance. Even the sun didn’t seem to be in a big hurry to go anywhere, and she knew exactly how it felt. Vinny wanted to stay right where she was. The thought of going home made her feel suddenly tired.

  She knew what would happen when her mother saw her.

  There were brambles and leaves in her hair and streaks of blackberry juice on her sundress, which she had tucked into the shorts she’d snuck on underneath before she’d left the house that morning.

  Dresses got in the way when you were climbing trees and making forts and running through the woods. They were useless for what was important to her.

  Only good for making her mother happy. And, of course, making her mother happy was the most important thing in the world. At least to her mother. And it was important to Vinny if she wanted to be able to go out to play with her friends.

  It was the kind of day Vinny’s mother called glorious and said was perfect for sun tanning. When she heard her mother say that to whoever was on the other end of the phone Vinny knew she could try to hide and read but she’d end up slathering gross stuff on her mother’s back so that she could turn her skin brown.<
br />
  Vinny hated raking leaves and cleaning her room. She hated sitting properly and quietly. Vinny wasn’t special; all her friends hated those things too. But she hated being girly just to make her mother happy, and she hated fetching drinks for her mother while she lay outside on a lawn chair, soaking up the sun, even more. Vinny would rather do just about anything than run back and forth from the kitchen to the deck listening to her mother complain about how Vinny couldn’t do anything right. Not enough ice. Too much ice. Filled the glass too full. How long does it take to get a glass of iced tea, child? I could die of thirst waiting for you.

  It wasn’t just Vinny’s appearance that was going to get her in trouble. If her mother found out Vinny was with Jonah she’d be furious.

  And if her mother found out she'd been at the hill, at the ruins by the old farm, she wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably for hours.

  But Ivy had told them to meet at the hill. Said she had some new game.

  And Mother always said to listen to Ivy.

  Ivy said she was going to do something they’d never done before, and she’d prove boys cry, but she’d told Vinny that was a secret. Not to tell Jonah.

  Vinny hadn’t mentioned that she knew boys cried. It was a game. Ivy was the leader. Whatever Ivy wanted to do, the group would do.

  Even go out of bounds. Even keep secrets.

  “Jonah?”

  He was chewing on a straw. “Uh huh?”

  “Why don’t boys cry?”

  “We’re tough.”

  She rolled over on her side and looked at him. “So you’ve never cried?”

  “I’ve seen you cry.” Jonah looked very serious as he bit off the soggy end of the straw and spit it out. He leaned back against the rock and stuck the shortened straw back in his mouth. “You cried when Buck died. A lot. Even for a girl.”

  “But Buck was a dog and dogs don’t have souls so they don’t go to heaven.”

  Jonah laughed. “That’s just stupid. Who told you that?”

  She felt her chin jut out sharply. “Ivy.”