THE SECOND TRIAL: THE UNFUFILLING VERDICT

When they were seated in their respective positions, the Judge looked at the jury from beneath her glasses.

"Has the jury reached a verdict?"

"Yes, your Honor."

"What say you?"

"In the case of Joseph Hardy versus the Commonwealth, on charges of murder in the first degree, we find the defendant…"

Please, please, please….

"Not guilty." A relief was heard throughout the courtroom but the painful sobs for vengeance continued.

"On the charges of murder in the second degree, we find the defendant…"

Another hurdle to cross, another plunge to endure.

"Not Guilty."

There was a roar that was deafening, from his parents and sisters, from his friends. Frank turned and saw Brian and Chet not looking very happy at him but happy that Joe was acquitted. He knew what went on in their minds. He knew what went on in his own mind. He had condemned his brother’s love, to get his brother out.

And he would have to live with it for the rest of his life.

***

He was oblivious to the exuberance in the courtroom. He only heard Andrea’s sobs and each tear she shed felt like it was squeezed from the wrenching of his own heart.

But he could not cry. How could he when he had damned the very person he loved so much?

The Not Guilty verdict pierced him, like a thousand ice shards perforating his soul, bleeding him from inside. Bleeding him dry and then freezing him into that torment which was now eternally his.

***

PRESENT: THE LONGEST NIGHT I :INNOCENCE

Frank returned home after class. He had a tiring day, trying to make sense of Callie’s hostility, seeing Joe going mental and going for his afternoon till late evening lectures. However, he felt a sense of dread, as he knew he was most probably not going to have a good rest again.

How can I ever have a good rest now? If I don’t retrieve Joe from his spiraling torment, I don’t think I can ever rest. Can’t watch him dying slowly, everyday.

I really can’t. I’m going to have a good talk with Dad. I need help on this. I know he’s trying…

He threw his car keys onto the dining table, hoping the house would not be empty. His dad had a pretty big case and he only returned home on weekends. It was not weekend and the house was in darkness. It was a wish that was futile. Even Laura was not around. He climbed down the stairs after searching the second floor and found not even an ant. He made his way to the kitchen so he could fix himself a light, late dinner. Switching on the light, he suddenly recognized that he was depressed, because he felt so alone.

I’ve gone with your dad to New Orleans for a few days. We are trying to find his good friend, Emily Sterling…she’s a great psychiatrist but somehow, they had not been in touch for a few years and her contact number is obsolete. Your dad recently heard that she’s in New Orleans and we’re trying to seek her and get her to come over…I know her personally as well…she’s wonderful…she may be able to help Joe. Sorry to leave you alone…you understand, don’t you Frank?

Frank read the note that his mother had stuck onto the refrigerator door and smiled. Maybe they might not be physically around but he knew they were there- his parents and little Maggie- fighting alongside him, trying to extricate Joe from the consuming darkness that he was thrown into.

I’m not alone.

And neither is he. If only he’ll see. How do I make him see?

Hmm…contact lenses?

He heard a soft creaking noise that was oddly familiar and yet, not coming from the doors or anything. The noise reminded him of his childhood and at that moment, he stared out of the kitchen window and saw his kid brother on the wooden plank swing, back facing the house.

The three siblings had loved the swing that their dad had put up on the old maple tree with strong ropes, some metal clamps and a leftover plank from some renovation work in their house many years ago. When they were young they often fought to sit on the swing since there was only one and the person who went on it would most probably never get down, enjoying the feeling of soaring through the air and safely coming back onto the ground. Reaching higher and higher, for the fluffy white clouds, reaching higher and higher for Heaven. Frank would not join in the bickering. He preferred to be the one pushing his sister and brother, watching them squeal in happiness, feeling their joy bringing a sense of delight into his.

Joe…it’s a Tuesday…why’s he back on a Tuesday?

Frank exited through the backdoor into the back garden where the old maple tree was the sole resident, friendly and offering them shade during hot summer days. It had been rooted there ever since Frank could remember remembering. Like a nanny, it hovered over the house, watching the kids grow up and marked their heights in notches on its sturdy trunks.

"Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight…"

"Not fair Frank!!! Me won Maggie in that game! ME WANNA THE SWING SWING!!!"

"FRANK! ME! ME WON! NOT JOEYYYYY!!!!!!"

"Hey, cool it…I decide! Maggie goes first…wait…Joe…don’t cry…oh you’re not crying……MOMMY!!!!!! Joe’s trying to eat worms!"

"Coz you don’t say me go first. Me eat wormies and get tummyache…me will!"

"Ok…Joe goes first…"

"ME WANNA SWING!!!! ME HOLD BREATH IF HE EATS WORMS! YOU LIED! YOU LIED!!!"

"Wish I may, wish I might...

Joe was just sitting on the swing. It moved a little back and forth but that was all. He was looking down on the ground and singing a little song softly, a song that was the siblings’ favorite as well, because it was simple and it rhymed wonderfully.

"Have a wish I wish tonight..."

A song that brought to Frank’s soul- a sweet, sad aching tug. Pulling him back to the innocence of their childhood. Hearing Joe’s raspy, whispery voice singing it broke his heart.

He’s probably singing it, hoping it could transport him back to those times as well…those wonderful, happy times.

"Hey…" Frank held on to the rope, bringing the swing to a gentle halt. Joe looked up with dazed eyes, and broke into a soft, strangely serene smile.

"Hey yourself…" He looked away from Frank and started humming the tune that Frank had interrupted all over again, staring at the ground, kicking some soil from the ground.

Frank smiled and knelt down next to Joe. He wanted so much then to cry but both he and his kid brother were not criers. Joe used to be able to cry when he was extremely touched but no longer. Frank just did not have the practice. His own tears flowed on the inside, more intense than those that would come to his eyes and down his cheeks.

"Good doggy…" Joe playfully ruffled Frank’s hair, taking Frank by surprised. Pretending to be annoyed when he was actually feeling an uplifting joy that his brother probably had somehow, beat all odds and ran back home, he looked at Joe with narrowed eyes and a tight smile that was full of mirth as well. Joe laughed quietly.

"I got the swing now. No one plays with it. I think old Maple’s lonely…" Joe whispered whimsically, reaching out to stroke the tree’s trunk, like he was pacifying an old friend who had missed him for a very long time.

"What are you doing here? Miss me?" Frank teased his little brother, feeling warmed by the return of some closeness, the closeness that they once had. His kid brother, the person who was closer to him than anyone else, who knew him better than anyone would…maybe even Frank himself.

"Nope. You’re too irritating, always bothering me." Joe grinned lightly, a rare glint in his eyes. Frank waited, not responding because he knew the remark was in good humor and that Joe had something important to say.

"I really don’t know why I’m here…maybe...I’m…" Joe’s voice withered away and Frank saw the sapphire gems gleamed. "Frank…can we ever be innocent…like if we lost it…because…I don’t know…you’re the philosopher. Can we?"

You’ve never lost it. Are you finally opening up to me now? Please…say you are…

Frank followed Joe’s trajectory of vision and saw that his brother was gazing up at the sky. There were only some stars but plenty of clouds. Frank’s heart fell, he wanted the night to be beautiful. He knew how much Joe loved stars.

And how much Maggie love the sun. Me? I love…

I still love the world. It may seem cruel sometimes. But it’s not its fault. We make it cruel. We can make it beautiful.

"We can. It’s a goodness in us that never goes away. We may think it’s gone or that someone had taken it away from us but the moment we think of it…it’s there…right in front of us. Nothing and no one can take it away, Joe. I promise you that." He looked up onto Joe’s tortured mien. Each word he spoke he baptized them with his love, desperately hoping and wishing that it was true- that his brother had returned. Silently praying that God had found Joe, and that Joe would not run away from love anymore.

Joe eyed him then, confused. A suspicious look flashed across the gems but he blinked and the paranoia was gone. Joe turned away and shivered slightly, hugging himself tight. It was not a very cold night, though it was Autumn. It was not cold enough for someone to shiver. If Joe was chilled, it was because his soul was frozen with a painful frost.

"I want to go inside." Joe stood up abruptly. "It’s too cold out here."

"Your wish." Frank stood up as well, his knees growing a little numb from kneeling down. He let Joe walk in front of him into the sweet Tudor, resisting the urge to put an arm around Joe, to melt some of the frost with touch- with love.

And the frost…it’s in my heart as well.

As they were making their way into the living room, past the kitchen, Frank’s stomach rumbled and Joe chuckled. "Why don’t you get yourself some cookies and bring some for me too?" He suggested.

Frank gave a Joe faux scowl. "Always exploiting me."

"That’s what big brothers are for. To pamper their younger siblings." As Joe spoke, faking seriousness with his head nodding like how a wise man would when revealing some secrets of the world to his listeners. Frank let out a slight laugh and ruffled Joe’s hair from behind, pleasantly surprised that Joe did not cringe.

Actually, he did…but not as violently as before. I’m not asking him to heal completely immediately…that’s not healing…that would be pretending. His healing must not be rushed…it must be comfortable for him.

And I will be here to watch him. To keep him safe. To make sure the darkness is kept far away…far, far away.

Joe turned around and stuck out his tongue and Frank wrinkled his nose back at Joe. They always did this when they were young. Some gloom seemed to visit his brother then as Joe, who had actually been smiling slightly, lost that momentary peace and turned around awkwardly, making his solo way into the unlit living room. Frank’s heart sank, but he knew. He understood.

The healing may be slow and it’s usually painful. But he’ll come out of it stronger.

We are survivors.

When he emerged with the cookies, he found Joe flirting with the piano, playing snippets of pop music that came into his mind. Frank set the plate of cookies on the dining table, switched on the lights and went to his brother who was playing a classical piece. Joe hardly played classical pieces for fun. This Largo piece was brought an aching to Frank’s heart.

Largo from ‘New World’ Symphony. I love that piece…melancholy…bittersweet.

A new world…

Joe only occupied one side of the stool, a clear sign he was inviting Frank to join him on the piano. Frank sat down and watched his brother’s strong, slender fingers dance fluidly with the changing chords.

"Sad." Frank commented wryly.

Joe stopped, his lips curled slightly.

"You want to play the duet?" Joe randomly played some arpeggios and the keys produced the purest of tones. The soft timber echoed in the empty living room, like wind chimes tinkling from a soft breeze in a cave.

Wordlessly, Frank began playing the chords to the innocent little song the three siblings were so hooked on after watching the movie Big. Joe waited until he was ready and the childish, everlasting tune brightened up the house, repelling the shadow that had lingered around for quite some time.

It’s time to dispel the night and let the sun in. Don’t ever let the sun set when it rises in the morning. It’s going to be beautiful..

And Joe stopped unexpectedly just as the song was going into a second repeat. It was one of those never-ending little tunes. He pressed his lips together and his eyes stared fixatedly at his own reflection in the piano backboard.

"My God…I’m changed…" His brother exclaimed in a breaking, hissing voice. He seemed to only realize it for the first time. The revelation in his voice was not a good one.

Frank was worried.

Is it a good time to tell him I know? Is there ever a sign to help me out? Is he going to tell me instead?

Frank watched in silence at Joe’s reflection as Joe disfigured hands caressed the face of the reflection, his appearance deadly pale and calm.

"You’re still you. No matter how you’re changed. Because somewhere inside, something pure is still there…can’t be taken away." Frank repeated his answer to Joe, not knowing what else to say, only that he had the conviction in him then that Joe was innocent of Vanessa’s death- innocent still.

"You said that just now…you have no idea…" Joe spoke in low tones. "No idea."

"Will you tell me about your hands?" Frank turned his head slightly and look at his brother in real person, rather than the sepia image.

Joe was like marble- the angular sculptured face with the now too jutting cheeks. He closed his eyes, his expression was one of someone in spiritual agony. Frank could only guess the intensity of the torment that Joe was going through. Guess and not be able to share, to lighten his brother’s load.

Hyperventilating, Joe’s ragged breaths were accompanied by the swaying- like a young, slim tree defenseless against the howling, strong wind.

Frank felt guilty for pushing him. He put an arm finally around Joe who flinched and abruptly stilled himself.

"Give me time Frank. I promise you…I just need more time."

"But don’t take too long…whatever…just don’t run away again. We miss you. We all miss Joe…" Frank replied softly, not taking his arm away. He knew Joe needed that comfort, that knowledge that someone would always be there.

That he need not be alone.

We’ll always be here. Me, Maggie, Dad and Mom.

I’ll always be here beloved brother. I’ll always be here.