Envious Moon(53)

The trial began on a Tuesday in October. The courtroom was stuffy and I remember that it was hard to breathe. The air was stale and still and I felt it in my throat. I stood to give my plea and I knew that all eyes were on me. They wanted to hear my voice, as if its very sound might answer all the questions they had about me. Danny Pedroia made me practice those words over and over. I tried to sound strong and confident, though I was neither of those things. I was indifferent at this point, to tell you the truth. I just wanted this over, the scrutiny. If I couldn’t live with Hannah, I at least wanted to be able to live with her in mind, where no one could bother me.

I stood, and I said, “Innocent by reason of insanity.”

I said it because I had to, not because I believed it. I knew what had happened and why it had happened. And other than the very end, when I was pulled out of the water against my will, I don’t know that I would have done a thing differently. But there was no forum for me to say that, and I did not. I said those five words, enunciating them as clearly as I could, and then I sat down.

The first person the prosecution called was Victor. He glanced at me quickly when he took the stand but the whole time he talked, he didn’t once look in my direction. He wore his suit from the funeral home and he played with his mustache. The prosecutor, a sturdy-looking woman with shoulder-length brown hair, kept having to ask him to speak up. But Victor did pretty well. He didn’t leave a whole lot out. He talked about the wake he did at the house, how he told me about the money. How I wanted it to use for college. He didn’t mention anything about his wanting the money, too, but that was okay. I wasn’t going to call him on it. Besides, the prosecutor went over this a dozen times, trying to show how clear-thinking I was. That I was making plans. Victor told them how we rode my skiff out and I insisted on going into the house alone. He told them how afterwards the only thing I would talk about was Hannah and when the woman prosecutor asked him if he thought that was odd, me talking only about the girl, Victor shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “Tony always liked girls.” Quite a few people in the courtroom chuckled at that and I even allowed myself a smile.

Sheriff Riker went next. He gave all the details of the scene at the house, of seeing Hannah’s father on the floor next to the staircase. I tuned him out when he talked, to be honest. There was nothing new to what he said. Instead I scribbled on the paper in front of me, like I was taking notes. I also watched a long-haired woman in a flowing dress to my left, in the first row behind where the prosecutors sat. She had a big sketch pad and was drawing pictures of everyone in the courtroom. I liked to watch her work. She was fast and used colored pencils. She did a great one of the judge, and also a nice one of Danny Pedroia. She drew me a lot, and didn’t seem to mind that I could see her doing it. But the one I liked the best was the one she did of Berta. I thought she captured her perfectly, her stoic face and the sweetness and depth of her sad eyes. If I could have, I would have asked her if I could have it.

They brought up Captain Alavares and he talked about how I didn’t show up for his boat that time and left him a note. The prosecutor asked him if I had ever caused any trouble before, and he said, “Anthony was an able fisherman.” It warmed my heart to hear him say it because I knew for Captain Alavares that this was the highest form of praise he could give.

Next they called old Terrence from the campground in Connecticut. I was surprised to see him and they cleaned him up for his big day in court. He limped up to the stand but otherwise he looked no worse for wear. He had a suit on. His face didn’t show any sign of our fight, but then again it had been a couple of months. He said how I attacked him, and then took his car. He conveniently left out any part about his interest in Hannah and how that might of affected things. But I whispered all that to Danny Pedroia and when it was his turn he grilled him on it hard. Terrence didn’t give in, though, and I realized he didn’t have to. It was his word against mine and I was the one sitting over here.

The final witness the prosecution called was Hannah’s mother, Irene Forbes. Everyone leaned forward in their seats as she made her way up the aisle and past me and to the stand. She wore a long black dress and heels, and the only hint of color came from a scarf around her neck that had a touch of red in it. When she sat down, the prosecution brought out a giant picture of Hannah and they propped it up so the jury could see it. It was slightly off center from where I sat, but I could see it nonetheless. It was only a shot of her face, and she was smiling, but there were her green eyes, and those freckles, and those full lips. I only looked at it for a moment. For in front of me was Irene Forbes, and in her face I saw more of Hannah than I saw in the photograph. She was a beautiful woman. The wrinkles coming off her eyes and her forehead seemed to accentuate her beauty, not detract from it. And in seeing her, I suppose I got a glimpse of what Hannah would have looked like had she lived, and the thought of this was almost too much for me to handle. I felt the tears coming and I fought them off as best I could. I looked away from her, toward the tall windows, and when I looked back she was staring right at me as she talked about her daughter. In her eyes I saw hatred. Pure naked hatred. And I couldn’t blame her. She hadn’t been with us. She couldn’t have known the truth about Hannah and me. All she knew was what was in front of her. That Hannah was in the ground. And that I was here.





When the trial ended, the jury had found in our favor. Which only meant that I traded prison for a hospital. They drove me in a van to this place, and I got my first glimpse of its brick buildings and its manicured lawns, looking more like a college than anything else, except for the heavy fences with the swirls of barbwire at the top. There were the first few years in the buildings everyone calls the farm, and finally my move to this room on the third floor, this room that has become my home. This room that gives me the ocean in the distance when the leaves are off the trees.