Between Two Minds: Awakening

by D C Wright-Hammer

  I couldn’t contain my confusion. “What is this place?”

  The woman placed her index finger to her lips, shushing me, and then pointed to the far side of the room. There was a series of numbers on the wall. Hearing her type again, I was staring at the wall as a single number popped out on the far-left side. It almost seemed like a mailbox. Looking back at her, she leaned toward the mailbox, cuing me to go take a look.

  I proceeded trepidatiously toward the container protruding from the wall without so much as a clue as to what I would find. Closing in, I could finally make out the number 9230, and gulped hard as I peered inside.

  Surprisingly, the metal box was completely empty except for an old scrap of paper, and I whispered to myself, “They got the money and the note.” Then I gingerly grabbed the note and held it up in the dark room.

  Charlie,

  If you’re reading this, do not ever come looking for us. We’re better off without you.

  —Sarah

  Tears began to rush down my face as Charlie erupted from me.

  “I can’t believe I threw it all away!”

  Chapter 25:

  Trial by Fire

  I can’t believe I threw it all away!

  Sitting next to my public attorney, I sulked in regret, thinking about the bad decisions I had made. Even if I was innocent on some of the charges, the trial about to begin was surely rigged with lies and trumped-up charges. Having never seen a courtroom in person, the one I was in appeared much smaller and a lot less fancier than the ones in the movies. It almost looked more like a multipurpose room with cheap, low carpeting and generic furniture. Too ashamed to turn around, I could hear and feel the menacing crowd growing behind me. The place probably only held a hundred people or so, but it didn’t matter. I felt like the whole world was against me.

  I had lost some weight while I’d rotted in my cell, but the dress suit they had arranged for me was still a half size too small, and it was just my luck that the wide-open room was somehow suffocatingly muggy. The sweat soaking my shirt forced me to recall my time in the desert, where that was the norm. Hell, there was even a mob of locals behind me that wanted my head. But the humidity combined with the certainty that my fate was sealed made it different enough from my service time so that I didn’t even feel comfortable in my own skin, much less my snug suit.

  “All rise for the honorable Judge Donaldson. Case 41024290 to begin: The People versus Charles D. Rios.”

  A rumble overtook the room as the crowd followed the instructions of the court officer.

  An older, black-robed man appeared from a doorway next to the bench and addressed the room before sitting down. “Thank you. You may be seated.” Judge Donaldson cleared his throat. “This court is now in session. In The People versus Charles D. Rios and on the five felony counts, twelve misdemeanors, and twenty-two citations, how does the defendant plead on each?”

  Looking like his first day in court, my lawyer gingerly stood up from his seat. With zero confidence, he began rattling off each plea as he and I had discussed. “Not guilty, not guilty, not guilty, not guilty, not guilty….”

  Knowing full well what the result of the trial would be, I could have saved everyone a lot of time and energy by pleading guilty to all counts. But then the prosecutor would have had much more time to get curious as to why I had access to the car and who I worked for. If I gave them any leads on that, it would further incriminate me and border on snitching on the Padre. As much as I hated him, I knew snitching wouldn’t hurt the Padre, while it would only make my life exponentially worse. Most importantly, though, drawing the whole thing out in court meant that I wouldn’t be completely forgotten in some maximum-security prison where I would be ripe for getting taken out. Instead, I’d be in a holding cell during the trial as well as leading up to sentencing.

  The prosecution had it out for me. “Your Honor, we feel the defendant is a threat to public safety. We want bail set at five million.”

  My spineless public defender had at least enough guts to contend. “Your Honor, given my client’s clean record and veteran status, we feel that bail should be set no higher than five hundred thousand.”

  But the judge didn’t hesitate. “Given the number and severe nature of these crimes, I’m erring on the side of caution. Bail is set at five million. Trial will begin on the first of next month. Court dismissed.”

  While I was unfazed by the judge’s decision, it seemed to hit my lawyer pretty hard. Poor guy. It almost seemed like he would be the one sitting idly in a cell for the next few weeks. Fortunately, the time went by relatively quickly, and I was back in court hearing the opening statements.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. On the day in question, the defendant, Charles Rios, manually drove around town in a large steel-framed car at speeds unsafe by anyone’s standards. Clearly unstable, he continued menacingly driving this way until he spotted a car with innocent pedestrians getting inside. It was at that point that Mr. Rios consciously made the decision to speed up even faster and crash into the defenseless car, killing one occupant and severely injuring the others. It is my duty over the next several days to present the obvious evidence that will lead to your easy decision to convict the defendant on all accounts. Thank you.”

  If my fate wasn’t sealed before, it was after the comments from the prosecution. There was no way my timid lawyer was going to give anywhere near as convincing of a speech. While he wasn’t great or even good, I was pleasantly surprised by his performance.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, thank you for taking the time to fulfill your civic duty. I am Lee Jenkins, and as you know, opening statements are meant to give you an introduction to the case at hand. The prosecution decided to interpret the facts to make their case seem that much better. I will present the facts in a way that show Charlie Rios is a troubled veteran who, in spite of his mental issues, still managed to maintain a clean record leading up to the alleged crimes for which he is in the court today. Throughout this trial, I will prove all of this to you, and the only verdict that will make sense is not guilty on all accounts. Thanks again.”

  “The prosecution can call their first witness.”

  “The prosecution calls Anthony Rodriguez to the stand.”

  One of the Padre’s bulbous goons came thudding from the audience, up to the stand, and swore on the Bible that he’d tell the truth.

  He didn’t.

  “I was walking down the street when I noticed one of those old-fashioned Cadillacs speeding. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it as it passed me, and it seemed to speed up once it got the green car in its sights. The window was down a bit in the car, and I even heard him screaming, ‘I’m going to get you,’ right before totaling the car. If he hadn’t been knocked out by the crash, I would have been scared for my life.”

  “Thank you. No further questions.”

  “The defense has the floor.”

  “Mr. Rodriguez, let me remind you that you’re under oath. Do you have netphone coordinates proving that you were at the location you said you were?”

  I thought my amateur of a lawyer was onto something. But I was wrong.

  “Yeah. I gave that to the prosecutor.”

  “Okay. What were you doing walking down the street?”

  “I was headed to the grocery store to pick up a few things for the day.”

  “Mr. Rodriguez, according to court records, you live on the complete other side of town. Why were you walking where you were to a grocery store so far away from your home?”

  “Objection, Your Honor. Irrelevant.”

  “Your Honor, it’s possible that the witness planned to be in the area when the defendant allegedly committed the crime for which he is charged. He may be fabricating what he saw to help convict my client.”

  “Sustained. The witness himself is not on trial.”

  “Th
en I have no further questions, Your Honor.”

  A couple other doctored witnesses took the stand, and their stories were mostly the same. There were two other people who seemed to be legitimate witnesses, but they were either told to keep their stories consistent or had gotten wind of the Padre’s involvement. It was definitely an open-and-shut case for the prosecution. That was when things changed—not in the case itself but in the way in which I remembered it. Mr. Jenkins, who hadn’t been worth his weight in salt for most of the trial, stood up and said something that sent chills running down my spine.

  “Your Honor, I’d like to call some character witnesses to the stand.”

  “Very well, counselor.”

  But there never were any character witnesses in the real trial. I certainly didn’t know of anyone who would vouch for me, and Mr. Jenkins never asked. Yet apparently that was where the trial was headed, and what was about to transpire would shake me to the core. Mortified didn’t begin to describe the emotions that overtook me as the name left Mr. Jenkins mouth. In complete disbelief, I waited for the so-called character witness to make his way to the stand before I could even acknowledge was what happening.

  “Mr. Reno, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

  “I do.”

  My scumbag of a lawyer, who was apparently in on framing me, approached the witness stand. “Mr. Reno, do you know the defendant?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “How would you describe Mr. Rios as a person?”

  “He’s hardworking and dedicated. I took him from an orphanage known for housing some of the worst kids in the state, but raising him was one of the easier things I had ever done. He listened closely and did the chores I gave him. And even the few times he questioned me, he changed his tune once I presented him with the logic of the situation.”

  “So, you’d say Mr. Rios was a good kid growing up?”

  “Absolutely. Which is why it was so shocking that he turned out to be such a vindictive ass who stops at nothing to hurt people he believes have wronged him. When I needed him most after years of depression and suicidal thoughts from losing my wife, he treated me like a plague. I provided him a safe home with food on the table for eight years, and all I asked was that he earn his keep. And like I said, he did. But his good behavior was all a lie. He was plotting against me from the day I saved him. It got so bad that by the end of high school, he even hit me, an old, broken man, because he didn’t work hard enough to get good grades. And to this day, he blames me for all his shortcomings. A pathetic man and a terribly ungrateful person. He deserves to rot in prison, or worse.”

  I couldn’t hear any more of his lies. “You bastard! You said kids were only good for their cheap labor!”

  The gavel came down hard two times. Thunk! Thunk! “Order in this court! Order!”

  Mr. Jenkins didn’t stop. “Isn’t it true that, after all the things you did for him, he didn’t want anything to do with you? He legally changed his name back to the name of the parent who abandoned him?”

  With fire in his eyes, Mr. Reno looked dead at me. “You’re damn right. In the end, he’s a really sad, confused, and dangerous person who has no place with the general public.”

  “No further questions, Your Honor.”

  I felt like a professional boxer had socked me in the gut. It was tough to breathe through it all, and as bad as it was, nothing could have prepared me for who would come next.

  “Your Honor, the next character witness.”

  “So be it.”

  Turning around to see who would be coming to the stand, I jumped up and blurted, “Sarah! No! You can’t be here! You need to be in hiding with the kids!”

  The court officer darted in my direction to restrain me, and the gavel attacked my ears even louder than before.

  Thunk! Thunk! “Mr. Rios! Either you maintain the order in this court, or I will add contempt to your laundry list of charges.”

  Being slammed back into my seat by the bailiff, I watched as the woman I loved headed up to swear on the Bible. What I thought was going to be a rigged trial that would come and go turned out to be the longest and worst nightmare I had ever had.

  Mr. Jenkins began his questioning. “Please state your name for the court.”

  “Sarah Cunningham.”

  Her last name is no longer hyphenated with mine? Trying to rationalize it even though it hurt, it made sense if she were trying to distance herself from me.

  “Ms. Cunningham, do you know the defendant?”

  “Yes. Intimately. I fell in love with Charlie in high school. He was such a sweetheart, going out of his way to let me know how much he liked me without the slightest creepy vibe. I had secretly thought he was cute, but it was his personality that really attracted me to him once we started talking. It wasn’t long before I knew he was the man I wanted to be with for the rest of my life. But things started to change after I left for college.”

  “What would you say changed in him, Ms. Cunningham?”

  “Well, we had a plan to be together in college. I lived up to my end of the bargain by settling for a state school when I had a shot at an Ivy League university. But then I came home after one year away, and Charlie had just pissed away all our hopes and dreams.”

  “So, based on your relationship with Mr. Rios, would you say he’s a good person?”

  “In a word? No. He’s a foolish man who makes terrible life decisions without thinking of the consequences.”

  “Do you think he would be capable of committing the crimes with which he is being charged today?”

  “I was surprised he didn’t do worse. And sooner. He had been running with the Padre for a while, and I knew it would catch up with him. I told him it was a bad idea the day he told me. Mind you, he told me after several weeks of breaking the law, doing who knows what for blood money.”

  Popping from my seat, the bailiff had already began attacking me again as I blurted out anything to get her to stop. “Sarah, no! You’ll put the kids in danger! Stop!”

  The gavel, piercingly loud, assaulted my ears to nearly the breaking point.

  “This is the last warning you’ll get, Mr. Rios. Now, you’ll sit down and you’ll listen to everything these witnesses have to say, or we will lock you away and no one will ever hear from you again.”

  Mr. Jenkins went on. “So, you’re saying that Mr. Rios was part of a larger criminal conspiracy?”

  “Yes. Dirty money from dirty people. If I could have done it all over again, I would never have gotten mixed up with the big-headed football player in high school. The only good things to come from our relationship are our children, and he even tried to ruin them. The world is better off without him.”

  It was too much for me to take. If I had had a bridge to jump from, without question, I would have. But it was around that time that something else came to mind. In my darkest hour in that court room, I remembered being that low before. Only it wasn’t a feeling from the past, but a feeling that somehow felt like it was coming from the future.

  My cell. The chain mechanism opening and closing the door. The sheets. The metal hook. It was all rushing back to me. I did end it all! I can remember my last breaths. I can remember my life flashing before my eyes. So, I had to be in some kind of hell where I was reliving the worst parts of my life.

  “I have no further questions for this witness, Your Honor. But I would like to call to the stand my last character witness.”

  “You may proceed.”

  “Ryan Carter, please make your way to the front of the court.”

  My thoughts began to race as I tried to recollect who Ryan was and what he represented. If I was indeed in hell or some twisted nightmare, he seemed to be someone I could trust, someone who would help me. Maybe he was the best attempt of my subconscious at creating something positive amids
t all of the negativity that swirled throughout my mind. As terrified as I was at the testimony from Mr. Reno and Sarah, I was a lot less on edge anticipating what Ryan had to offer. But then a seed of doubt started to grow in me. Something didn’t add up about how Ryan had all of a sudden started to appear in my thoughts and memories. He appeared out of nowhere in the weirdest wheelchair, and the next thing I knew, he was in my body. I started to wonder if he was a red herring trying to get me to drop my guard so my emotional underbelly would be exposed to make for an easier evisceration. I began to question whether he could be trusted, and then I answered my own question.

  No one can be trusted.

  I was on my own, and no matter what Ryan said, I would need to stay strong. He said his oath and sat down.

  “Mr. Carter, do you know the defendant?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “It seems like I’ve known him his whole life. All of his thoughts and memories, I’ve been there for all of it.”

  “So, you would say that you have a good idea of who he is. Correct, Mr. Carter?”

  “Absolutely. As much as anyone.”

  “Can you describe Mr. Rios for the court?”

  Ryan shuffled in his seat and sighed. “Charlie is a complex man. When he was younger, his folks moved around so much that he never really developed a concept of home. Unfortunately for him, it was when he was abandoned at the orphanage with troubled boys that he learned a definition of home and even of family. But unsurprisingly, those definitions were flawed, and they only got worse when Mr. Reno swiped Charlie up from the boys’ home.”

  I found myself nodding as Ryan went on, but I was still cautious that things could turn at any moment.

  “He was indeed a slave to the Renos. If you take a castaway with a head full of bad ideas and work him to death, it usually ends up very poorly. Miraculously, Charlie stayed afloat in life and in school. Then he met Sarah, which further saved his life. She gave him something good to work for, so much so that he made a difficult, albeit rash decision to join the marines. But he did it because he concluded that it was the only way for him to pull his own weight in the long run.”