Leila: Goddess The Second Coming

by R. J. Castille

  I did pull my cell phone from my purse, but instead of attempting to reach Matthew, I called the one who could best answer for the summons. Gordon’s phone rang several times before going to voicemail. I assumed he was busy and would contact me when he saw he had missed my call. Instead of leaving a voicemail, I simply hung up the phone and let it drop to the counter. My head was pounding as I re-read the summons several times, doing my best to translate the legal mumbo jumbo to my understanding of the terminology. Matthew would be arraigned on attempted manslaughter. I was floored.

  Fighting the urge to break down and cry, I made my way to my bed and fell forward onto its soft surface. I screamed into the plush comforter until I completely ran out of breath. My heart was pounding in my chest and the room began to sway as I started to count out loud to my empty room, breathing slowly as I did so.

  1...2…3…

  I had to regain control of my anxious nature before Gordon returned my call, for fear I would lose it completely when he finally did. I was desperately trying to understand the situation from Gordon’s perspective. It should have been easier, but my feelings for Matthew were as of yet, unresolved and I was having a difficult time digesting the turn of events.

  4…5…6…

  Without warning, my emotions seized control again and I wept. I had no intention of ever letting anyone harm my pet, but I was definitely in a situation beyond my control. My mind raced with terrible thoughts. I was being forced to come to a hearing in which they would decide what happened to my pet and I was not prepared for that. It crossed my mind for a brief moment to disregard the summons, to pretend I never received it. So, what, they had sent it certified mail, but I had not signed for it. Prove I got it. The other, more rational side of my brain told me that was not the wisest choice. They could hold me in contempt and fine me for disregarding a legal summons.

  As my thoughts continued to spiral out of control, my cell phone rang, causing me to jump slightly. I scrambled to find it, now buried in the comforter I had been writhing around in. Finally able to locate it, the screen was lit up as it continued to ring, declaring that Gordon was calling me back. My finger hovered over the screen for a few seconds, contemplating what I would even say to him when I answered. I was devastated and feeling completely fragile. Maybe it was a bad idea to try to talk to him at that moment, maybe I should wait, maybe…

  The phone stopped ringing. On the other end, Gordon would be sent to my voicemail. I fished through scrambled thoughts and conjured up the strength to call him back. Pressing the missed call icon, the phone started ringing as I moved the receiver to my ear. In one-and-a-half rings. Gordon’s voice came through the speaker.

  “Leila, is that you? Is everything alright?” His voice sounded frantic, a touch of anxious energy behind his words. I breathed deeply and let it out slowly between pursed lips before I responded.

  “Yes, it’s me. I am here,” my voice sounded foreign to me. An obvious quiver with each phrase I uttered, something I was sure would not go unnoticed. I searched my mind for something else to say, how to start the conversation, but I could not find the words. Finally, after several seconds, Gordon broke the silence.

  “You called me while I was in the shower, Leila. As soon as I saw the missed call, I returned your call. Is there something you need, anything at all?” Gordon would have never seen what came next.

  “How could you do this to me?” That was all I could come up with. In my fogged mind of despair, I could not formulate the sentences to tell him what was really going on. The tears found their way to my eyes again, and slow, lazy drops fell down my cheeks in turn .

  “What are you talking about, Leila? What’s going on? I’m coming over!” He declared in an instant and before I could argue, the line disconnected. I was unable to protest and, at the moment, did not seem to care. Instead, I allowed myself to sink back into my mattress, the summons still clutched in a death grip in my hand. Slowly I released my hand, the paper crinkled beyond repair, and let it drop to the bed. I curled up in a ball in the center of the bed and waited for the world to pass me by.

  Within thirty minutes, the buzzer sounded, advising me that someone was downstairs waiting for me to allow them entry. I dragged myself to the console by the door, pressed the button on the video surveillance, and Gordon’s beautiful, bald head came into view. He looked up toward the camera, genuine concern etched upon his features. Instead of saying anything, I simply hit the button to allow him access to the stairwell that would bring him face-to-face with me.

  I started to feel a tinge of anger. He should have at least warned you! My mind argued with me, an attempt to push me through the sadness and into another realm altogether. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew Gordon had every right to do what he had done, but it still felt like someone had punched me in the stomach when I read the words on the legal document. Before I knew it, the bells chimed inside my apartment to announce a visitor at my door. I took a deep breath and held it as I unlatched several locks and swung the door inward.

  Gordon’s face took on that of a frightened child. He looked me up and down and rushed inside, pulling me into his arms as he did so. Closing the door behind him, he continued to embrace me as his arm twisted around and secured the deadbolt. We backed up several paces into the living area before I finally pushed away from him slightly and looked up at him. He waited patiently for me to speak, when I didn’t, he finally tore through the silence.

  “Leila, what is it? Whatever it is, you are quite upset, it’s written all over your face,” Gordon finished speaking and waited for me to respond. Without a word, I turned toward the bedroom and walked slowly toward my bed, where the summons still lay, crumpled on top of the comforter. I picked it up and spun around, extending it to him. He took the stack of documents from my hand and his eyes darted quickly over its contents. When he realized what he was looking at, his shoulders dropped, his poise softening as he raised his eyes to meet mine.

  For several seconds, he said nothing, he simply regarded me with cautious eyes. I could almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he struggled to find the right words. Instead of waiting, I pushed my way past him and made my way back to the living room where I lowered myself onto the over-stuffed cushions of the couch. Gordon slowly followed, the summons still clutched in his hand. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally offered his explanation.

  “I’m sorry, Leila, I did not mean for you to find out like this. I meant to tell you, but we were having such a wonderful time at the penthouse, I didn’t want to spoil it, and then honestly, it slipped my mind entirely,” his gaze softened. He stood before me and waited for me to say something, to which I finally obliged.

  “You could have at least warned me!” I spat at him. I wanted to pound my fists onto his chest, but resisted the urge to even touch him. In fact, when he reached toward me to grab my hand, I withdrew, turning away from him so that his fingers barely brushed my arm. “I was not the least prepared to get something like that, it was quite unnerving. Besides, Matthew didn’t mean any harm really, I…” My voice trailed off when I saw the cloud of anger pass over his face and settle behind his dark eyes.

  “Leila, he nearly killed me!” Gordon’s retort was truthful. He was angry now, and somewhere inside me, I knew he had every right to be. I let the electricity in the air settle before I bothered to respond.

  “I know, Gordon. I am sorry, it just took me by surprise. It looks like I have to testify against Matthew, according to the summons. Do you have any idea how hard that will be for me right now? I could do without the stress and I certainly never wanted to replay that evening’s events, especially in front of a bunch of strangers,” I held his gaze as I spoke, albeit it was extremely difficult. My mind kept going back to the last time I saw Matthew, which caused waves of guilt to almost knock me over, considering what we did in the parking lot of The Bridge. If Gordon were to find that part out, he would undoubtedly take his leave from me. That was a loss I couldn’t handle at
that moment and stuffed the memory back down where it belonged, into the darkest recesses of my mind.

  Gordon’s face relaxed once again. He reached out and placed his hand on my arm, circling it with his long fingers before gently coaxing me toward him. I allowed him to fold me into his embrace, the comfort I felt there was almost instant, although I was still a little upset. Not with him necessarily, but with the entire mess. Fearful that I would say something else to damage our developing relationship, I did not say a word and let my head fall onto his strong chest. Breathing in his delicious scent, I let his rocking motion soothe me as he stroked my back with one hand, calming me further. He said nothing else, just held me there, in a state of serenity, waiting for the comfort of his arms to work their magic.

  When he finally released me from his grasp, I was feeling much better. My mind was not nearly as clouded and the sense of impending doom had faded into the distance. I allowed him to usher me back into the bedroom where he carefully eased me down onto the mattress before lowering himself beside me. Gordon wrapped me back into his arms and I lay there, listening to him breathe, the rhythmic sound soothing me as my eyes grew heavy and I started to drift off. Comforted by his presence, I slowly spiraled downward into a deep sleep, where my body and mind could rest. I still felt his arms around me as my conscious mind let go and I found solace in a light-hearted dream about twin babies in a green meadow, surrounded by wild flowers and tall grass. The sunlight glowed behind their tiny bodies, making them appear as angels, their tiny faces sparkled slightly as the light grew brighter and carried me farther away.

  -22-

  Four weeks later, I sat uncomfortably in a small courtroom. The dress I had chosen was clinging mercilessly to my skin as I waited for the hearing to begin. I shifted in my seat as more people filed into the room and took random seats throughout what they referred to as the gallery. That was the nickname for where the audience sits in the courtroom. Long, wooden benches topped with hard foam covered with a scratchy fabric. I could feel the fibers poking me through the thin fabric of my dress.

  As I looked around the courtroom, the doors swung inward and I watched as Jason Slater sauntered into the room. I almost choked on my own tongue when I saw him. His eyes drifted across the room and fell upon me, a broad smile stretching across his face as he neared the place where I sat. I was used to him folding me into his arms in a warm embrace, but this time, he simply extended his hand toward me. Obliging his gesture, without a word, I grasped his hand and he quickly pumped it up and down several times before relinquishing it. He turned and made his way to the Defendant’s tables set to my right, clearly marked by a large, engraved sign .

  A short, intense looking man entered the courtroom next. At his heels was a woman who was much taller and much more masculine than he was. Her hair cropped short, just below her ears, no makeup and a three-piece pant suit made her appear that much manlier. They took up residence at the table opposite Jason and began to pull several piles of documents from nearly matching briefcases.

  As I sat, nervously glancing back and forth between Jason and the attorneys at the Plaintiff’s table, the door behind the platform at the back of the courtroom opened. A tall, uniformed man emerged. His serious face was emphasized by his intense eyes. His eyes flitted across the gallery as he approached the attorneys. Talking to each one in turn, he turned and disappeared back into the doorway that he had come from.

  Low voices echoed throughout the small room as everyone waited. The energy of the small crowd was electrified. Suddenly, a door opened on the side of the courtroom and two figures made their way into the room. A tall figure, dressed in bright orange, bound and shackled at the wrists and ankles shuffled inside, followed by another uniformed officer. Before he even raised his head to look at those seated in the gallery, I knew it was him.

  Matthew looked like a broken soul. The time he had already spent behind bars had obviously taken its toll. He was quickly moved to the table Jason Slater occupied, where he was seated in one of the two empty chairs next to his council. Jason leaned in close to Matthew and whispered something into his ear. Matthew responded by looking up, his gaze met mine and my breath caught in my chest. I felt the incredible pressure of the stale air in my chest, unable to release my lungs for several seconds as his eyes fixed onto mine. Bright blue pools tainted by the gloom of the sadness that reflected there. I held his stare as long as I could stand before diverting my eyes to the ground. Oh, how the tables have turned . I flinched at the thought as I realized that it was now me who was casting their eyes away.

  His commanding presence pierced the room as he entered the courtroom. Gordon stood tall as he passed through the gallery by way of the center aisle, making a b-line straight to the two attorneys at the Plaintiff’s table. He shook their hands in turn before taking a seat next to them. Papers continued to shuffle as both tables placed their documents in neat piles across the surface of each table. Suddenly, the tall officer emerged again from the back of the courtroom, clearing his throat loudly to command everyone’s attention.

  “Hear ye, hear ye, the Honorable Judge Judy Steele is presiding. All rise,” he finished speaking and stepped quickly to the side. The sound of everyone standing to their feet came in waves across the room. I stood quietly and stared toward the other side of the room where the Judge would undoubtedly appear.

  A short woman dressed in a crisp, black robe walked through the doorway. Her head was held impossibly high, her chin turned up slightly to make herself appear taller. She nodded at the Bailiff who had announced her presence before walking up the risen platform and taking a seat in a large, leather chair at the top. The seal of the Great State of California was fixed to the front of the wooden façade that cascaded down in levels until they ended abruptly on either side. On one end, an older woman yawned as she turned toward the Judge, awaiting her orders.

  The petite Judge cleared her throat loudly, the sound echoed off the walls behind her. She shuffled through some pages before looking up at the crowd in front of her. Looking back and forth between the two sets of attorneys, she appeared satisfied that everyone was in place before addressing the courtroom.

  “Thank you, bailiff,” she nodded in his direction before speaking to the rest of us, “you may be seated,” she was all business. I partly had hoped she would be one of those humorous judges who attempted to entertain the crowd, but it appeared as though my hopes would go unfulfilled. More shuffling reached my ears as everyone, including myself, began to sit back down. Before speaking again, Judge Steele glanced casually across the room, her gaze falling on every face in the gallery before looking back down at the file on her desk.

  The room felt like it was getting hotter as we all waited for her to speak, the air conditioning doing little to remove the stuffiness from the small space. She took her time, as she flipped through several pages, re-familiarizing herself with the contents. Finally, Judge Steele looked up, her gaze bouncing between the opposing forces that were seated before her.

  “This is a hearing to determine cause in the matter of the People versus Matthew Chambers. Mr. Chambers is being arraigned on charges of attempted manslaughter,” Judge Steele read a lengthy statement prepared on behalf of the District Attorney’s office. As I sat and listened to her words, I was transported back in time to that moment when Gordon’s eyes met mine before he fell into unconsciousness. She stopped speaking briefly and turned her attention toward Matthew and Jason who were anxiously waiting their turn to speak, “Mr. Chambers, how do you plea?” Her eyebrows arched up as she questioned him, I could almost picture her foot tapping impatiently underneath.

  Jason leaned toward Matthew, whispering something into his ear. Matthew nodded several times before clearing his throat and responding to the Judge. He stood slowly and faced the platform that she was poised on. The sound of his voice nearly broke my heart, again, as he spoke four words and nothing more.

  “Not guilty, Your Honor,” Matthew stated flatly. He stared forward as Jud
ge Steele made some notes on her file, the courtroom coming alive with low murmurs as they waited for her to speak. I watched the court reporter as her hands moved skillfully across the keys of her recording device. My heart was beating in my throat as the seconds ticked by .

  Judge Steele looked at the large calendars poised on the wall behind the platform she was seated on. She appeared to be considering something before she looked back down at her file and scribbled more information onto the paperwork inside. Nodding in Matthew’s direction, the Judge finally spoke.

  “Trial will be set for January 12 at 8:30 AM,” she stated. In response, all the attorneys scribbled the date down onto their long, legal notepads before looking back up at her and waiting to be dismissed. “Next case,” she waved her hand in the air, indicating that their part of the hearing was over and she was moving on to other pressing matters. All three attorneys moved quickly to put their paperwork back into their oversized brief cases. Gordon stood and held his hand toward what was obviously his team before turning and making his way down the aisle that split the seats of the gallery down the middle. He did not look at me, instead, his eyes cast down as he approached the area I was seated in and made his way out the heavy, double-doors.

  I was a little put off by Gordon ignoring me. Had he looked at me, my irritation would have been evident by the look on my face. Moreover, I would have to return in January to Matthew’s trial. According to the summons I had received, I was to be prepared for that, as I could be called at any time to take the stand. They wanted me to testify against Matthew, on behalf of the District Attorney. I struggled with that idea as I had no intention of ever harming my pet, but in this instance, I was without a choice. He had made his bed and I had to watch him lie in it. In fact, I was to possibly be the one to tuck him in.