than to Mom’s lawyer.
So I do.
It’s like tuning
to a different wavelength
on a radio.
I turn the dial
in my ears
to Rain.
Clay’s father and Gwen
don’t have much choice
where to look
but at the screen.
If they turn their heads one way,
Mom and I
are sitting there.
If they turn the other way,
the judge will see
they are looking out the window
instead of
eyes up front.
Then come videos of Jonah
after his surgery—
in the hospital,
in rehab.
His face says,
“WOW, something VERY BIG
must have fallen on me.”
The next thing we see
is the video
of Jonah at home
that the professional videographer
took when I was at school.
It shows Jonah
being fed
being dressed,
all his machines
working hard.
You can see Vivian
giving him meds,
washing him,
pedaling his legs,
rowing his arms.
As we all watch,
Dr. Kate tells the ways
Jonah is a baby now.
Tube-fed
Total care
Nonmobile
I like that the rain
washes away her words.
Apnea
Aspiration
Oxygen dependent
Seizure activity
Partial paralysis
Permanent brain injury
When Mom’s lawyer is done
with the Jonah show,
Clay’s father’s lawyer
gets up.
With her back to the screen,
she speaks to Dr. Kate.
Let me ask you this.
Would you say that there’s always
a chance Jonah Carrier’s condition
might improve, that new treatments
or medications might mitigate the
severity of his present diagnoses?
The rain comes down harder then.
The security officer checks the bucket
under the drip.
Even with my ears
tuned to the Rain station,
I can’t help listening
for her answer.
Dr. Kate looks up at the last frame
in the video.
Jonah is being moved
from the bed
to the wheelchair
in his Trapeze.
I wish that were true,
Dr. Kate answers her,
but in Jonah’s case,
I have to say his condition
is considered intractable.
Clay’s father’s lawyer pauses.
I think she’s wondering
how she can look up the word
“intractable”
on her phone
without it being obvious
to the judge.
I don’t know
what it means, either,
but I can guess.
Instead,
she thanks Dr. Kate for her time,
and sits down.
I decide that
even if it’s still raining,
tonight I will go to the river,
and wait for Clay.
Hair Trigger
I didn’t know there were
“firearms experts.”
It’s not a subject
they teach in school.
Not even in the
“hands-on” programs
they won’t let me join.
The firearms expert
doesn’t look much older
than Jonah.
He is wearing a police uniform,
and in between answering,
he bites his fingernails.
After he says and spells
his name
for the court,
A-B-R-A-H-A-M B-E-R-R-Y
explains that he first
saw the firearm
after the accident,
when he was asked to
examine it
for the police.
I think Clay would like
Abraham Berry.
He tells the facts
he knows to be true
about the gun.
He doesn’t seem to be on
one side
or the other.
No, he answers Clay’s father’s lawyer,
the Smith and Wesson Model 17 revolver
belonging to Arthur LeBlanc
was not damaged
and it did not have a hair trigger.
Yes, he answers, my findings are
that the gun did NOT go off by accident.
That means the gun
can’t be blamed
for what it did.
No, he answers Mom’s lawyer,
it did not have a trigger lock
or a cable lock,
and there were five more bullets left
in the six-bullet cylinder.
Mom’s lawyer asks
the firearms expert
another question.
Were there other firearms
taken from the home of Arthur LeBlanc
that you examined?
Objection, lack of personal knowledge,
Clay’s father’s lawyer shouts.
The judge turns her
see-through-you eyes
to Abraham Berry.
Arthur LeBlanc previously testified
that other firearms were taken from his home.
Did you examine those?
Yes,
Abraham Berry answers.
I will allow it,
the judge says.
How many other firearms
did you examine?
Mom’s lawyer asks Abraham Berry.
There were six other firearms,
he says.
And how many of those
were loaded?
Objection,
Clay’s father’s lawyer says again,
more quietly this time.
I’m going to allow it,
the judge says again.
Two of the six guns
were loaded.
I didn’t know guns
had names,
and numbers.
I didn’t know
so many bullets
could fit in
one gun.
I didn’t know someone
would have
so many guns.
I have been in Clay’s house.
There are three rooms downstairs,
and three bedrooms upstairs.
Does Clay’s father have one gun
for each room,
and an extra
for the attic?
No one in the courtroom
has anything left to say.
The judge looks down from her
high seat.
Her X-ray eyes freeze us in place.
Each side to file posttrial briefs
within two weeks, as agreed.
I will take this under advisement.
This court is now adjourned,
she says, smacks her gavel on her desk,
and stands up.
Someone says
All rise,
and everyone stands
as the judge disappears
through the curtain
behind her.
Clay’s father and Gwen
immediately get up and leave
out the back door.
What does that mean?
Mom asks her lawyer.
It means she will consider all the facts
and render an opinion sometime
in the coming weeks.
Is the trial over then?
Mom asks.
Yes, it is,
he answers.
Good. Two days’ lost pay
is two more than I can afford.
How do you think it went?
Mom asks him.
I think it went as well
as it could.
How it will turn out,
what the judge will do,
I can’t predict,
he says.
The ride back home
is quiet
except for the rain,
that is still coming down hard.
Mom has her headlights on.
That’s a rule in Maine,