Envious Moon(31)

“You Anthony?” he said.

“Yes,” I said.

“I’m your lawyer.”

“My lawyer?”

“Court-appointed.”

“I remember you,” I said.

He flashed a big smile. He was used to this. “We’re from the same town,” he said. He held out his hand. “Dan Pedroia.”

I shook it. “Anthony Lopes.”

“Mind if I sit down?”

I motioned to the seat like it was my own house. He sat down across from me. I pulled my chair out and he did the same. I saw him studying me. “So,” I said.

“First thing we have to do is get you out of here,” he said.

“That’d be good.”

“They’re going to arraign you on Monday. I can’t do anything before then. I’m sorry about that. They’re going to keep you in a holding cell until then.”

“Then what?”

“Then we go before a judge. I’m going to ask that you be released on your own recognizance. It just means you get to go home while we wait for trial.”

“I know what it means,” I said.

“Good. Or a plea, depending on what we decide to do. We make the case that you have strong ties to the community and are not a risk to flee. I’m going to say you’ll agree to wear a monitor on your ankle and stay home. They’re worried you’ll try to find Ms. Forbes. But if the judge agrees, you get to live at home pending the outcome of the trial. If he disagrees he can set bail for you to go, in which case we’d need money to get you out. Or he may just leave you here until the trial.”

I nodded. “Let’s hope he agrees.”

Danny Pedroia smiled. He had the smile of a shark but I liked him. He said, “I’m going to do what I can. One other thing I’m going to ask for. I want to have you evaluated.”

“Evaluated?”

“See an expert. Someone you can talk to. Talk about the time you spent on Cross Island. What brought you there. That kind of thing.”

“I’ve been trying not to talk about it,” I said.

“I know. That’s good. This is different. It’s smart right now not to say anything to the police. I’m talking about a psychiatrist. It could help.”

I smiled. “Okay, Danny,” I said.

Danny smiled when I used his neighborhood name. “Let’s see if we can get you out of here, Anthony,” he said.





After that, they gave up on me. They put me into a small holding cell somewhere in the state police barracks. There were two cells and both were empty. They put me in the far one and in it was a cot with a blanket and hard pillow. The toilet also doubled as a sink, which was something I had never seen before. They fed me twice a day. Pizza at night and a fast-food breakfast sandwich in the morning. Other than that, they did not bother me and I slept like I only did when I had the flu. I drifted in and out of dreams. A few times I woke in a cold sweat. I knew I had been having nightmares but I did not remember them. I’d sit on the edge of the cot and wish they’d let me smoke. Then I’d start to think about Hannah and it made me sad. I’d lie back down and sleep again because it was only in the sleeping that the sadness went away.

Monday morning they handcuffed me again and led me out the back of the barracks and into another police car. They drove me to the courthouse and inside they took off my cuffs and escorted me into a courtroom. Danny Pedroia was here as was Berta. I sat between them and we waited for our docket to be called. Berta’s eyes were rimmed with red and she looked tired and old. My heart went out to her and I held her hand. Danny Pedroia talked into my ear, explaining everything that was happening, and when our number was called, the two of us stood and made our way to the front tables. We stood in front of the judge, who was old and black and bald with a gray mustache, and the prosecutor explained the charges against me, how serious they were, and the judge looked impassively at him as he did. Danny Pedroia explained that I was a good kid who did a dumb thing but had never done anything before. That I was from Galilee and that it was all I had ever known. That I was a fisherman and that my father had been a fisherman. Danny Pedroia was a good talker and I liked listening to him. He said I should be released on my own recognizance and undergo a competency evaluation. That I was no threat to anyone or even to myself. And that I certainly would not flee, that all my roots were in Galilee and there was nowhere for me to go. That I would be willing to wear an ankle monitor as an act of good faith.

“What about Cross Island?” the judge wanted to know.

“The young woman is no longer there,” Danny said, and I perked up at this. “She left the island,” he said, and I wanted to ask where Hannah went but I knew enough to know I couldn’t do that.

The judge took all this in. He looked wise when he nodded as he listened. I thought that he was what a judge should look like. The prosecutor made another argument for bail. No one mentioned the money. They knew nothing about that. The judge shook his head. “I’m going to grant the defense request,” he said.

And so that afternoon, for the first time in weeks, I returned home to my small bungalow. It was just me and Berta in the house. I had this small bracelet around my ankle with a little black box on it. If I left my small yard, or took the bracelet off, an alarm would sound and the police would come to get me. I stayed in my room mostly and smoked. At night I took in the late-August breeze and smelled the ocean from my window. In a couple of days the psychologists were going to come to my house. They were going to want to know if I was crazy. Danny Pedroia made it sound like it would be a good thing if they thought I was.