Blessed Are the Wholly Broken

by Melinda Clayton

  Of course, when I returned to the parking lot the car was gone, Peter and Anna nowhere to be seen.

  Chapter 46: March 5, 2013—Trial Transcript

  Court Clerk: Please state your name for the record.

  Amanda Whitburn: Amanda Lee Whitburn. People just call me Mandy.

  Court Clerk: Spell your last name, please.

  Amanda Whitburn: W-h-i-t-b-u-r-n.

  The Court: You may proceed, Mr. Young.

  Prosecutor: Thank you, Your Honor. Okay, Ms. Whitburn. Where were you on the morning of June 3, 2012?

  Amanda Whitburn: I was just past Dismal Swamp.

  Prosecutor: As you can see by the chuckles, not everyone is familiar with Dismal Swamp. Where, exactly, is it?

  Amanda Whitburn: Oh, I’m sorry! It’s at Big Hill Pond, the state park over in Pocahontas.

  Prosecutor: That’s in McNairy County, right?

  Amanda Whitburn: Yes, sir.

  Prosecutor: So you were in a part of the park called Dismal Swamp?

  Amanda Whitburn: Yes, sir.

  Prosecutor: Can you give us an idea of what that particular section of the park is like?

  Amanda Whitburn: Yes, sir. It really is a swamp, but it’s not ugly like you might think. There’s a boardwalk people use to cross over it, like a wooden bridge type thing. People go there to hike or camp or fish. It’s really pretty, with all the wildlife and stuff.

  Prosecutor: What time of day was it when you were at Dismal Swamp?

  Amanda Whitburn: It was around ten in the morning when I started on the boardwalk. I remember because me and my fiancé camped overnight at the park, and I was mad at him because he wouldn’t get up. I thought it was stupid to travel all that way to just sleep the day away, so I decided I’d go look around without him.

  Prosecutor: So at close to ten o’clock the morning of June 3, 2012, you were on the boardwalk hiking across Dismal Swamp?

  Amanda Whitburn: Yes, sir. I was heading towards the big tower, the observation tower they have there. They say you can see the whole park and even over into Mississippi from the top of it. I wanted to check it out for myself.

  Prosecutor: How long were you on the boardwalk?

  Amanda Whitburn: Not too long. It’s not even a mile, so maybe fifteen minutes? I wasn’t walking too fast.

  Prosecutor: So by 10:15, you had crossed Dismal Swamp.

  Amanda Whitburn: That’s probably right.

  Prosecutor: Could you see the tower from the end of Dismal Swamp?

  Amanda Whitburn: No, sir. There’s too many trees, and the tower is up a big hill, maybe a quarter mile away, as the crow flies, but the trail is longer than that because it doesn’t go straight up.

  Prosecutor: Do you remember what you heard that morning, after you’d crossed Dismal Swamp?

  Amanda Whitburn: Yes, sir. After I crossed the swamp and started up the foot trail, I heard a bunch of yelling and screaming coming from up towards the tower.

  Prosecutor: Could you see what was happening?

  Amanda Whitburn: No, sir, not at first because of the hill and all. But I ran towards it. Everybody did. The screaming was terrible. It sounded like somebody was dying. Oh, sh—I mean, crap. Somebody really was. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect.

  Prosecutor: That’s all right, Ms. Whitburn. You say you ran towards the screaming. What did you see when you got there?

  Amanda Whitburn: Well, I saw him and a woman on the tower.

  Prosecutor: Let the record show the witness has pointed to the defendant, Phillip Lewinsky. Ms. Whitburn, when you say tower, you’re referring to the observation tower at Big Hill Pond?

  Amanda Whitburn: Yes, sir. They were all the way up at the top.

  Prosecutor: Who do you mean by “they?”

  Amanda Whitburn: Him. The…what do you call it? Defendant. And a lady.

  Prosecutor: How tall is that tower?

  Amanda Whitburn: They say it’s seventy feet. You really haven’t ever seen it? You should go see it sometime.

  Prosecutor: I may just do that. So when you arrived at the tower you saw the defendant and Mrs. Lewinsky near the top. What were they doing?

  Amanda Whitburn: They were yelling and screaming, and she…the lady, I mean…she was holding a baby by the arm over the fencing at the top of the tower. Like she was trying to hang onto it and keep it from falling.

  Defense Attorney: Objection. The witness is speculating. It’s just as likely the lady was trying to drop it.

  The Court: Sustained. But Counselor, that was a pretty speculative comment you made, yourself. Watch it, now. The jury should disregard both comments. Continue with your witness, Mr. Young.

  Prosecutor: Just describe exactly what you saw. Don’t try to guess at anything.

  Amanda Whitburn: Okay. Sorry. Anyway, she was hanging onto the baby’s arm and leaning way over the fence, like she had climbed up it a little ways, and they were fighting. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, exactly, because they were so high up, but they sounded mad. And then all of a sudden he—Mr. Lewinsky—gave the lady this big push and grabbed the baby, and she…she fell. It was awful. I knew she had to be dead, she hit the ground so hard. Then everybody started running toward her and screaming, and I called nine-one-one but it took a while to get through on account of how out of the way it all is.

  Prosecutor: What was Mr. Lewinsky doing during this time?

  Amanda Whitburn: He was still up on the tower, and it looked like he was hitting that little baby, like he was hitting him right in the stomach.

  The Court: Order. We will have order in this courtroom, or Mr. Stone, your client will be removed.

  Prosecutor: What happened next, Ms. Whitburn?

  Amanda Whitburn: Well, the ambulance got there and they loaded her up on the stretcher, trying to work on her, you know, and the police came and ordered Mr. Lewinsky off the tower. They told him to hand over the baby, and he did. Then they cuffed him and put him in the car, and that was pretty much the end of it, except they roped off the whole tower and I never did get a chance to climb it.

  Prosecutor: I have no further questions for this witness, Your Honor.

  The Court: Mr. Stone? Your witness.

  Defense Attorney: Good afternoon, Ms. Whitburn.

  Amanda Whitburn: Good afternoon.

  Defense Attorney: You testified that you couldn’t hear exactly what the Lewinskys were saying because they were so far up the tower, is that correct?

  Amanda Whitburn: Yes, sir.

  Defense Attorney: And that you saw Mrs. Lewinsky holding the baby over the side of the tower by his arm, correct?

  Amanda Whitburn: Yes, sir.

  Defense Attorney: Isn’t it possible she was attempting to drop the baby?

  Amanda Whitburn: Oh, I don’t think so. What sort of a mother would do that?

  Defense Attorney: But you don’t know that that wasn’t the case, correct?

  Amanda Whitburn: Well, I don’t know for sure, but—

  Defense Attorney: You also testified that Mr. Lewinsky appeared to be hitting the baby in the stomach, correct?

  Amanda Whitburn: Yes, sir.

  Defense Attorney: But could you actually see the baby’s stomach from your position on the ground?

  Amanda Whitburn: Well, no, because I was looking up from under them, but—

  Defense Attorney: Could you see Mr. Lewinsky’s hand?

  Amanda Whitburn: No, not…not specifically, but he was raising his arm up and down—

  Defense Attorney: Raising his arm up and down as if perhaps he were performing CPR on the baby?

  Amanda Whitburn: Well, I don’t know….

  Defense Attorney: But it is possible, isn’t it?

  Amanda Whitburn: I suppose it is.

  Defense Attorney: Thank you, Ms. Whitburn. No further questions, your honor.

  The Court: Mr. Young?

  Prosecutor: No further questions, Your Honor.

  The Court: The witness may step down.

&nbs
p; Chapter 47: June 3, 2012

  I ran, which may seem strange to some, but I knew immediately there was no abduction, no stranger appearing out of the swamp who had absconded with my wife and son. I knew Anna had taken him, and I knew where she’d gone.

  Always before on our trips to Big Hill Pond we’d parked in the lot on the south end near Travis McNatt Lake. From there, we’d hike less than a mile northwest to the observation tower before looping around to head southeast across the boardwalk at Dismal Swamp. We’d complete the loop with a short hike back to the car.

  Anna had taken Peter to the tower; I knew it. It’s difficult to judge distance in the park because the roads and trails are winding, but I estimated the south lot to be close to two miles from where I stood. I was a runner; I regularly went for long runs on the backcountry roads of Lauderdale County. I could reach the lot in fourteen minutes—thirteen if I pushed myself—less time than it would take me to find a park employee, explain the situation (I couldn’t imagine how I’d explain it), and hope for a ride.

  So, I ran, jumping over the young couple making out on Fox Hollow Trail, barely registering the shocked expressions of the elderly couple I shoved past on the rickety boardwalk leading to the access trail. I crashed through trees and wetlands when shortcuts were possible, finally nearly colliding with our car, which was parked haphazardly at the edge of the lot as if Anna couldn’t be bothered to take the time to secure it in a space.

  I sprinted farther, leaving the trail and slogging through brush to find the quickest route to the tower, finally cresting the hill and spotting her, the auburn of Anna’s hair bright against the blue of the sky. I had always loved Anna’s hair.

  She was midway up the tower, holding the rail with one hand as she made her way up, and while I could not see Peter, I knew by Anna’s awkward gait she held him against her with the other arm. Calling forth every ounce of strength and speed I could, I raced for the tower, fairly leaping up the stairs, yelling Anna’s name, desperate to reach her before she reached the top.

  I remember everything.

  She reaches the observation deck when I have two flights left and turns to look at me. Maybe, I think, maybe she’s going to wait for me. Maybe this whole morning has been just some crazy mistake brought on by sleep deprivation. She’ll wait for me and we’ll enjoy the view together, and in twenty years we’ll laugh about how I thought….

  She swings one leg over the railing when I have one flight left.

  I reach her just as she dangles Peter over the edge by his arm. Over the sound of my shouts and Anna’s sobs, over the sound of the screams below and the wind rushing past my ears, I hear the pop of Peter’s arm as he swings in the wind.

  I leap for them both.

  In the midst of that leap I manage to grasp Peter by the back of his jumper with my left hand.

  And I manage to shove Anna away from him with my right.

  I was pumped full of adrenaline, alternately terrified and angry, and I knew Anna was clumsy, had always been, but my goal that morning was not to hurt Anna; my goal was to save Peter. It’s what Anna—my Anna—would have wanted me to do.

  I wrest Peter from her grasp and she loses her hold on the railing. For one brief instant, our eyes connect. She isn’t afraid; her expression is calm, peaceful, and I know even then that she loves us, Peter and me. I know, too, that although I will forever feel I’ve failed her, she felt I’d saved her in that moment.

  I hear the thud as she hits the ground, and the sound reverberates in the shattering of my heart. In the beat of silence that follows, I realize Peter isn’t breathing. I turn away from Anna to tend to my son.

  You told me to take care of him if you couldn’t, Anna, my love. That’s what I did. I kept my promise.

  Chapter 48: April 1, 2013—Attorney Consult

  I was unable to read Brian’s expression as the guards led me into the room and removed my cuffs. He waited until we were alone before coming to sit across from me.

  “I have some good news, and some bad news,” he said. “Which do you want first?”

  “The good news,” I replied. “I’ve had enough bad news lately to last a lifetime.”

  “Okay, then.” He sat back, hands on his knees, and took a deep breath. “It seems you were right, and I was wrong.”

  “About?”

  “About Peter.”

  My heart thudded in my chest. “What do you mean?”

  He allowed himself the smallest of smiles. “There’s been some improvement.”

  “I knew it!” I nearly leapt from my chair before Brian held out a restraining hand. “What’s he doing? What do they see?”

  “He’s tracking objects with his eyes. At first they thought it was coincidence, so I didn’t say anything. Didn’t want to give you false hope. But it’s real. I went by to see for myself. And Phil, it gets better. He’s making eye contact. He looked right at me. He responded to my voice, moving his arms. The doctors say these are very hopeful signs.”

  “Thank God!” I said, taking a few seconds to compose myself. After such wonderful news, I couldn’t imagine what could be bad, or at least not bad enough to erase the euphoria I felt at knowing my son was still there. “Brian, this is incredible. And we’re so close, aren’t we? You’ve managed to tear apart everything the prosecution has set forth, and now it’s our turn. We’ve got the expert testimony, and my testimony,” I stopped, as he put a hand on my arm.

  “Phil. That’s the good news. The bad news,” he stood, walking behind me to put his hands on my shoulders. “The bad news is that the test results are back.”

  I stilled, the joy of a just a few seconds ago seeping away. I knew what test results he meant. I swallowed, preparing myself. “And?”

  “And you’re not his father.”

  I had known, or at least strongly suspected, that that would be the case. But even hearing the words, I didn’t completely grasp what they meant.

  “But I’m on the birth certificate,” I said. “And I was the one caring for him. For Christ’s sake, I’m the one who saved him. Tests mean nothing, Brian.”

  He moved back around to sit across from me. “Unfortunately they do, Phil.”

  I sat back in my chair, my mind racing. “All right. So now what? The Williams guy, he’s divorced and at least ten years older than I am. There must be something he can sign, something absolving him from having to pay child support, or whatever he’s afraid of. I don’t want anything from him. I just want my son.”

  Brian ran a hand over his face before answering me. “He won’t sign anything like that, Phil. He’s fully prepared to seek custody of Peter. In fact, child welfare is completing a home study even as we speak in order to move Peter there.”

  “But my trial isn’t over. He can’t just take my son because I’m in here. And what about Cathy? And Mrs. Tyler? Why would they move Peter when he’s been doing so well there?”

  “It won’t come as a surprise to you that Cathy’s skipped town. We both knew she didn’t have it in her to care for a baby, particularly not one with special needs. And Mrs. Tyler is in her seventies. Her health has steadily declined over the past year given all she’s had to deal with. So those are factors in the decision to move Peter. But the main reason is because he has a biological father who wants custody of him. This is a blessing in some ways, Phil, because had Peter not had a biological relative able to care for him, he would have to be placed in foster care.”

  “I’m glad Peter will be in a safe place, but Brian, I still intend to get him back. Placement with Anna’s coworker will be temporary.”

  “I’m afraid that’s easier said than done. Robert Williams is proven to be the biological father. The biological mother is dead, and the man who was married to her sits in jail accused of her murder. Has been sitting in jail, I might add, for most of Peter’s life.”

  “But we’re going to win, and I’m going to get out. Right? I mean, that’s almost a given at this point.”

  “Yes, we’ll probably wi
n. And you’ll get out. But Peter will still be Dr. Williams’ son. You’ll get your freedom,” he reached out and put a hand on my forearm, “but Phil, you won’t get Peter. He’s not yours to get.”

  Before I could respond pain sliced through my chest, crushing me, leaving me breathless. Through the blood rushing through my ears, I heard Brian’s voice, panicked, summoning the guards before everything faded to black.

  Chapter 49: April 7, 2013

  Myocardial infarction, they said. A mild heart attack caused by coronary artery disease. “Not unusual for a man your age,” the attending physician said. “You’re lucky you’re so physically fit,” he continued, “or it might have been a lot worse. You a runner?”