‘Members of the jury, I appeal to you for leniency in the case of my client. He has been painted as a member of this notorious gang, and yet here he is … just a boy. The day before the awful events at the bank, Charlie helped around the farm as he always did, doing many of his father’s chores for him, as he has always done. He took care of his young siblings. He visited the church to talk with the priest and the nuns, who all adore and admire Charlie. Then he went to the high school where he is held up as an example to the other children, not of the things to avoid in this life, but of the way to be an exemplary student, on the way to university.’
A few members of the jury cast glances in Charlie’s direction, but he stared down at his hands, unable to meet their eyes, hardly able to believe himself that what Mr Adams said was true. He chanced a glance behind him, and wished he hadn’t. His mother sat five rows behind, held up by William, clutching a handkerchief to her tear-soaked cheeks. Of his father, there was no sign.
Adams had paused for his plea to sink in, but now he continued.
‘This young man has no previous criminal record. In fact, he has no previous criminal connections whatsoever, apart from his unfortunate acquaintance with Wendell Harrison - which only came about because of the charity Charlie’s family had extended to Harrison’s folks, offering them a house on their farm. Charlie has only ever seen the best in people. The best of people. The best kind of people. He had no way to see through Harrison’s manipulation of an innocent.’
Adams pointed at Charlie, and the jury’s eyes followed his finger. ‘He was recruited by the gang exclusively to be a get-away car driver. He was not armed. He did not participate in the robbery nor in the shoot-out. Did he know he was getting involved in a bank robbery? Yes, of course. He’s a bright young man. But did he know what that meant, or what it could lead to? Not in any way whatsoever. That was so far from the life that Charlie had led up to that terrible day that he could not ever have foreseen what might happen. He should not die because of this, and you all know that. You have children of your own. You were young yourselves. You can see how this might have happened, even when Charlie wasn’t able to see it for himself. If you truly care about justice, you will not give this boy the death sentence.’
Adams nodded firmly, first at the jury and then toward Charlie, and took his seat. When their arms touched, Charlie could feel the lawyer shaking.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered.
‘Please don’t thank me, Charlie,’ replied the attorney under his breath as the jury were led from the room. ‘I feel useless. You shouldn’t be here at all. You shouldn’t have been there at all. If I can save you from the chair, you can thank the good Lord for putting off the day of your meeting, and then spend every day of your life doing some good and showing your gratitude. But please, don’t thank me.’
As it turned out, though, Charlie owed him a debt of gratitude which he could never forgot. Only minutes later, the jury returned, and Charlie stood to hear the death sentence.
The leader of the jury spoke directly to the judge. ‘We return a verdict of guilty with extenuating circumstances, and recommend a sentence of life imprisonment instead of the death penalty.’
The gavel fell, and Charlie’s fate was decided.
And so, a few days before his 16th birthday, Charlie left normal life far behind, and was faced instead with the traumatic uncertainty of spending the rest of his days in prison.
Chapter 3
* * *
A Popular Girl
* * *
They treated me like my poor heart was made of a rock or stone, Mama,
Made of a rock or stone.
Treated me like my poor heart was made of a rock or stone,
And that's no way for me to get along
That’s No Way to Get Along, Robert Wilkins
Molly laughed as her nephew poked the cat with a branch. ‘She’ll only take that for so long, you know, Eddie,’ she cried. ‘Then you’ll be sorry you provoked her.’
‘What’s prodoked?’
Eddie was toying idly with the stick, so she eased it gently out of his chubby hand.
‘Teasing her. It’s not right to tease people.’
‘Or cats?’
Molly laughed again. ‘Or cats.’
Their conversation drew Maureen out onto the porch. She leaned in the doorway, watching her younger sister guiding her son through some animal husbandry.
‘You’re a fine one to talk about teasing people, Molly,’ she said with a smile, resting her hand on her growing belly.
Molly squinted up at her. ‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.’ Her tone – and the way her freckled cheeks colored up pink - suggested that she knew exactly what her sister was implying.
‘Hmm. Well, how many boys are you dating right now?’
‘Just … I don’t know, four or five.’ Molly shrugged. ‘It’s nothing serious – just ice cream parlors and county fairs.’
‘There are a lot of county fairs around here. That’s a lot of …’
‘Ice cream,’ interrupted Molly. ‘That’s all it is. Ice cream and a bit of fun.’
‘What do Mom and Dad think of that?’
‘They’re fine. I’m not coming home with the local miscreants, you know.’ Molly taunted her with an easy grin. ‘These are nice boys, and they always approve. Get me home by ten pm and everything.’