THE SECOND TRIAL-

"He and the victim had a rocky relationship. He was not prepared for her confession! No one hinted anything to him and we can imagine how betrayed he must have felt, how he would want to avenge his honor. And while his defense lawyer tried his best to seek acquittal for him, guilt overwhelmed him and he admits he did it. He admitted to killing her right here in this court. What else do you look for? Evidence points one way. That he killed her.

Look at him, look at the anguish and guilt on his face. Show justice. Be fair to the victim who had not done anything wrong, but loved her boyfriend. And now, her boyfriend’s lawyer turned the tides and said that she killed herself. A survivor of suicide grief is very strong. They know first-hand that suicide will not solve anything and they know first-hand the intense grief it will bring on the people they loved. So how could Vanessa ever think to dish this punishment on her mother who is now more alone than ever?

Contemplate on this. Her therapist said she had grown much stronger from her ordeal." The DA ended his closing argument. The tension was unbearable. Verdict was at hand. Bayport had been tracking this trial- tracking the impending fate of one of their most popular youngster with unbridled fervor.

The blessed golden boy.

***

PRESENT

The professor looked up to see a young, blond man trying to sneak pass the width of the back of the hall to an empty space in the corner of the last row of seats. The young man would not make it far though, the professor had the eyes of an hawk.

"Young man. What are you doing in my class? I don’t believe I have seen you before." The professor was someone who could remember every single student taking his module by name. No where in his vastly expansive mind for details and memories could he place the face, with a module and match it with a name.

This young man did not take any of his classes and was disrupting his rhythm. He did not like it one bit, in fact, he abhorred it tremendously, hated it with a vengeance.

"I haven’t seen you before either," came the offhand reply that induced a few sniggers in the quiet, deadened class. The student had not stopped at all and was now very comfortably seated. The professor was seething inside. Every student knew they had to show him respect or he would mark down their grades.

"Are you sitting in or actually taking this class?"

"Taking. I’ve forgotten I’ve actually enrolled for this module. Don’t worry. I’ll catch up." He replied extremely disrespectfully since he was so indifferent and the sniggers grew louder. The student rummaged through his Adidas haversack and after a while, he took out some crumpled pieces of paper and started smoothing them out, intending to write on them.

He’s taking notes! My carefully prepared notes on pieces of rubbish!

 

But the professor kept his cool. If this young man was taking his class, he was not going to ace it at all. The professor kept grudges and showed favoritism. Once in his bad books- never to be delivered.

"What’s your name?"

"Joe... I mean Joseph Hardy." He answered as casually as before, almost like he felt his name did not matter. He did not even look up or show any signs of remorse.

The ex-convict! Taking my class! Oh dear. I had thought he dropped out. Can I still mark him down? Will he take out a gun and shoot at me?

This new student was all the History Department could talk about a week before semester started. Though he was acquitted when the trial was re-opened, there were still several people out there who believed the first verdict should stand.

Somehow, not wanting to be sued for discrimination, UB accepted his application finally. Hector Angrid, his defense lawyer at the trial of the re-opened case of the Bender girl’s death, had hinted that a suit would definitely happen in a letter to the Social Sciences Dean after Joseph Hardy was rejected the first time round.

The professor was a Canadian and it was his first semester in UB. He had heard horror stories about the case and had blanched when he saw the name in his class roster. However, when he did roll-call for the first two weeks and the name was not answered to, he heaved many sighs of relief. Though the department did not inform him if Joseph Hardy actually dropped the module, he thought the kid had done so but the department was slow to inform him, being extremely short- handed.

And now, the kid finally showed up. He finally found the face to the terror.

His train of thoughts was absolutely derailed.

Oh dear…

***

Joe tried to ignore the stares of his fellow students as he tried to diligently copy down each and every word that the fat professor was mumbling without really registering anything in his mind and without any success. It was getting a little old, the accusatory looks were becoming more and more irritating with each passing day. Though acquitted, he was to some, still an ex-convict- the Adonis boyfriend who shot his gorgeous girlfriend.

Which I feel I really did.

So I’m a fugitive, not a free man.

The professor’s drone made Joe sleepy and he actually dozed off for a few seconds twice. But he tried hard to keep his eyes opened- he was not that totally indifferent towards his education.

I owe Frank that.

"You missed a huge chunk about the war on two fronts. Do you want to copy mine?" A familiar crystalline voice whispered, jolting him awake as he had been sleeping with opened eyes. With a sense of dread, Joe turned to his left.

In his haste to get to the seat quickly, he had not noticed his neighbor. Haunting grey eyes faced him squarely. However, after the initial turmoil that those grey eyes brought him once, he was immunized. Though his brains still churned out painful memories, he could control himself.

Annoyance and Anger visited his house of moods as well.

She stole Vanessa’s eyes!

The thought was ridiculous of course, but that was how he felt. In the warped recesses of his mind, he really believed in that absurd allegation of thievery.

He turned away from her, and started scribbling furiously. His notes had no start, no end and plenty of breaks. But he did not care. If she saw that he was busy, she would not bother him.

He suddenly wanted to bolt.

"Can anyone tell me what’s the turning point of World War II?" The professor asked the question out of the blue. Some answers were mumbled by those who thought they knew the answer and yet, had no confidence in their convictions. Mina did no such things. She raised her hand- not proudly- just respectfully.

"Yes, at the back."

"That Britain survived. Germany, in their pride and haste to conquer Europe, made a mistake. They attacked Russia when Britain was still very much in the game and had to fight the war on both fronts, unable to employ their resources fully on blitzkrieg attacks on the gigantic Red country."

Oh yes. Britain did survive. Barely.

"But would Blitzkrieg actually be successful against the Red army?" The professor took Mina’s answer a step further.

Mina nodded. "It was not blitzkrieg that lost Moscow for Hitler. It was bad decisions and the chilly winter. I believe blitzkrieg is actually perfect foil to the vastness of Russia. Act fast, destroy utterly and advance quickly."

Joe gave Mina a sidelong glance. Maybe there was something to be deliberated over what she had said. Nonetheless, the way she answered was impressive, so was her knowledge of The Second World War. Joe had not known a girl who actually knew what was blitzkrieg. Out of rare curiousity, his eyes swept quickly across the lecture theatre and saw that she was one of the very few girls who was taking that module.

Weird girl.

"Very good. We will discuss this later. Now, to our next new and yet not new student, Joe. Can you tell me…and I am jumping a few lectures ahead, why would Hitler continue to persecute the helpless Jews when he was actually losing the war in the final months?"

For fun, peace, joy and laughter?

How would I know? Actually…*smugly* I do know an answer to your question. An answer. Nothing is absolute.

But I like the frivolous one that came just now to my head. You know why? Because of my sick sick life. I wish for once, instead of being tortured, I can torture someone.

Argh. Dark thoughts. Chase them away.

The professor must had been waiting for far too long. He started tapping his foot. "Well? I must warn you, those who don’t answer my questions seldom pass. If you can’t answer…well…Ma…"

Oops.

"Ideological warfare. It’s the third front he was fighting on. To him, a vulnerable Jewish mother is as dangerous as a Red soldier with a rifle. Jews to him are parasites, more dangerous than any other army. He found them insidious and blamed them for all the woes in the world. In fact, his aim was to kill all Jews and enslave everyone who’s not Aryan. Maybe he actually thought if he exterminated them, he could win the war- having blamed them for Germany’s defeat in the first one."

A third front. Brutalize. Dominate.

Stop it…stop it…how can you link things so different from one another?

But that’s the nature of man. We’re just animals. So different from the human beings we are supposed to be. The weak always suffer. The heartless strong ones always get what they wanted. Put Man in a callous cell. His behavior will appall you; shock you.

And you’ll think we’re already in hell, just walking on, fooling ourselves that there’s salvation at the end of the day. How can there be salvation when we don’t seem to want to be saved?

I think I’m getting the Intellectual History module finally.

*mockingly*Frank would be so proud.

He heard his professor grunt and look away from him. Several students were jotting down what he had said energetically. Mina wrote something on her notepad and shifted it to him. He wanted to just ignore it; ignore the crazy girl.

But he read it anyway.

That’s good. Another point for debate.

He gave her a strained smile. She took her notepad back and scribbled another message.

Can you meet me later? I have something to talk to you about.

His heart pounded, he could, with an anxious and yet excited feeling in the pits of his guts, guess what she meant. Using his pencil, he wrote frantically and faintly on her notepad.

Vanessa?

She looked at him with those eyes again, shining with a brilliance, an intelligent brilliance, so much like Vanessa. Different, and yet so similar.

She nodded impassively. His heart almost leaped out of his chest.

And he could no longer concentrate on the lecture, not that he was doing so in the very first place.

***

"Can we go to the cafeteria to talk?" Mina asked Joe who had waited for her when class ended. She could hardly believe it. She had thought she would only see him in the Intellectual History lecture on Friday. But then, when he sat next to her in lecture that day, she almost knocked her stationeries off her cramp attached- table.

She had stayed behind to collect the reading list from the professor as well as to ask him about consultation hours since she was so far behind. The rest of the class had already learned about the mood of Europe during the Inter-War period. That was the philosophical aspect of the that Military War module. A small aspect, but perhaps the one that was the hardest to grasp.

"The food there sucks." He muttered as they walked down the clustered hallway. Social Science was not exactly a faculty held in high esteem. Its places were for those who could not make it to the professional degree programs. Its campus was the smallest and yet, with one of the largest number of intakes.

"But I’m hungry." Her tone was final. Mina was used to getting her way. Her late father was rather well-off but he taught his daughter well in grace and manners. Mina grew up humble but assertive, knowing she had much and yet, not showing off.

And very questioning. Her father taught her to question everything.

Did he kill her? Reasonable Doubt. Always leaving us searching for more…

Joe shrugged and led her through the hallways. She felt uncomfortable as people were staring at them. She had thought it was her heritage that made the students curious, yet, as time passed, she realized they were staring at him- at his face and at his hands.

She became conscious that she was staring at his hands too and he noticed it and clenched them for a split second before thrusting them into his jeans pockets.

"Do you get this often? People staring?"

He did not answer her, just continued walking in silence. But she saw that he turned slightly rigid at the question. Suddenly, he made a sharp left turn. The cafeteria was straight ahead and she wondered where he was leading her to.

Perhaps sensing her puzzlement, he clarified things for her in a soft, monotone. "This is a longer route to the cafeteria. If you’re not used to the stares, this will help reduce the number of the pairs of eyes. I’m sorry. When you walk with me, you’ll get that."

When you walk with anybody, you’ll get that.

I may as well be another pair of eyes, staring and suspecting.

They reached the cafeteria at last, after walking down many winding corridors. While the route they took was always almost empty, it would not prevent the inevitable. The cafeteria was packed.

Joe spotted a vacated table immediately and without notifying her, simply strode over to the seat and while she marveled at his sharp eyes, she detested his lack of gentlemanliness.

"Go get what you want. I’ll wait here for you." He drawled, staring at everything in his line of vision, seeing nothing at all.

"You want anything?"

"Nope. You go ahead." He answered her apathetically while he looked at her with hooded eyes. She suddenly just felt like he knew what she was going to ask.

It’s probably the same question that everyone who was staring wanted to ask as well.

She came back about 20 minutes later with a sandwich and a glass of ice-cold orange juice. He was still looking at her with those mirrored eyes- his sole defense.

Ignoring him, she concentrated on giving her growling stomach what it demanded. She unwrapped the triangular nourishment and ate it without tasting it. Actually, she did taste it and thus, she tried to shut down her taste buds. Nonetheless, she still tried to force it down, not liking the thought of wasting food.

Joe was right. The food sucks.

"You want to ask if I killed her right?" Joe’s voice lost that edginess. His voice, though soft and suspicious, was as clear as crystal to her ears even in the din. He was now looking deep into her, as if he wanted to ransack her mind with mental fingers, too impatient to wait for her reply.

And she was so taken with his frankness- his sudden question. He had raised the question that had been in her mind all the time.

Did he do it?

Why am I not feeling the intense hatred that I should have?

Because in my heart I know it is suicide? Somehow just knew?

"I have some letters of hers with me. But it’s not a good place to show them to you. I wanted a quick bite which was why I suggested coming here first."

He was about to say something when Mina heard murmurs from the table beside them which was just occupied by three jocks. She gave them a sidelong glance and saw them throwing Joe those accusatory glances.

"The convict…besides us…funny, he hardly comes here."

"He hardly comes to school…do you know he takes Total War as well? We just found out."

"Really? Man, thank god I opted out of that crappy module…"

"Lucky you. We didn’t."

The whisperers thought they were very quiet but Mina’s sharp ears heard them loud and clear. She had a peculiar feeling that Joe heard them too but was so accustomed to such comments that he simply ignored them. The truth was not out yet and those jocks were making useless comments that could hurt people. Mina could not stand the judgment by ignoramus. If anyone could actually be allowed accuse Joe so cruelly, it should be her and Andrea.

And she was not doing it. She had always hated to pass judgment before a matter was solved.

She left her place and walked towards the offending group. She glared at the one who was sitting by himself on one side.

The three jocks stared at her, a little taken aback by the sudden intrusion. Mina was not daunted though, she was hardly one to shut up when somebody needed defending, whoever that someone might be. She felt Joe tugging at her sleeves.

Like a little boy, pulling his mother’s sleeves, afraid the mother was going to get into trouble because of him.

"Drop it Mina. Forget it. I’m not bothered." He spoke huskily. Mina knew then by reacting to the hurtful words, she brought the pain to his heart because she acknowledged it and when she did- he could not hide from it.

But the deed is done. I’m incensed. It’s my flaw actually. I’m pretty meddlesome.

"Excuse me. Did your eyes see him commit the crime? If you did, I think you should inform the police. It’s a crime to withhold information." She spoke coldly to the three jocks who looked at her, summed her up and then sniggered.

"So Joey, found a protector huh?" The leader of the pack stood up and spoke up. He was an intimidating figure, a sandy-blond guy an inch taller than Joe- several inches taller than her. Mina did not like the way he said the word protector. She felt that she was just defending an innocent guy against ugly words. Undeserving ugly words.

Is he really innocent? Vanessa told me so much about him, I feel like I know him before I even met him.

It seemed like Joe did not like what he heard as well, because Mina felt the hand on her sleeves shudder. Mina could almost feel him glowering at the dumb jock, the heat from his anger disseminating on her back.

The other two, snickering, watched the confrontation with glee. Some other students were also staring- curious onlookers.

Always staring. Can’t someone do something besides using the ‘power’ from their eyes?

"But you’re a pretty girl. Why hang around an ex-convict?" The sandy-blond haired jock ruffled Mina’s hair and she roughly swiped away his hands. She was not expecting Joe to do anything to help her- the tiny mosquito who had stood up for him. Just as she was about to push the guy, without any idea if she actually had the strength to do so- Joe had swiftly moved behind the guy and poured her glass of orange juice on the creep’s butt.

The jock yelped and turned around, murder in his eyes, hands covering his bottom which had experienced a sudden, chilling bath. His two companions stood up as well, eyes threatening.

"Don’t be angry. I was just offering you a drink. Your breath stinks, which is no surprise, since your mouth is on your ass." Joe smiled widely but with fatal eyes. The jock raised a fist to sock Joe but Joe caught it in mid-air.

"Don’t mess with her alright?" He glowered at the guy and started squeezing the captured wrist hard and painfully. The jock tried to flail at Joe with his free hand but Joe caught it too. The other two guys rushed over to their leader’s side- their reaction to their leader’s predicament was rather retarded. At that moment, Joe released both hands and shoved the leader who had been wheezing with pain into the two lackeys, knocking all three slightly back.

Mina marveled at his speed and ease in subduing a guy much bigger than him.

"You watch out. Just you watch out." The jock was humiliated but did not want a commotion. He gestured for his two lackeys to follow him out of the cafeteria. The onlookers were dumbfounded for a moment; they were expecting a fight. Ten seconds later, everything was back to normal.

And she waited with bated breathe for the rebuke that she thought would come. Instead, she saw for the first time, an actually satisfied smile on the tormented, gorgeous face.

Gorgeous face. Did I really think of that?

"That was fun. I was getting so sick of them." He turned to her. She caught the fleeting, impish glint in his eyes but it was gone in a flash, replaced by the melancholic expression again.

I must have imagined it.

"If you’re not afraid of me, we can go back to my dorm. You can show me the letters and we can talk in private." He gave her a half smile before walking away.

A little stunned, she could only dumbly follow behind, even though she knew it was not safe for a girl to be alone with a guy, any guy, in his dorm room.

Especially when he could have killed my cousin.