The Time Until (14 page)

Present Day

This courtroom is crowded and I have already elbowed
three people in order to keep my spot against the wall in the back.
 
Apparently, they mean it when they say, “Get
there early.”
 
Ethan and Quentin showed
up just as we were leaving and that caused a little delay.
 
Though I’m not mad at them for it; in fact,
I’m actually glad they came.
 
I’m
definitely going to need the support.
 
Unfortunately, we’ve been here nearly three hours and they still haven’t
gotten to the case I’m most interested in seeing.
 
My legs are cramping up and my patience is
starting to run thin.

I can feel the irritability growing as I wait.

After a long time, my people watching starts to
pick up certain things about the legal process — or lack thereof — taking place
in this room.
 
The entire room is
separated into an ‘us’ vs. ‘them’ mentality by way of a small fence that keeps
the audience and victims from the lawyers and guilty.
 
The defense lawyers run around and play games
with the prosecutors in order to try to get the lowest sentence for their
client they can, while the prosecutors try for the highest punishment they
can.
 
There’s a lot of back and forth
deal making, swindling, and finagling before they finally agree on something.

It’s a lot like I imagine Wall Street being.

“People vs. Jeremy Stanton.
 
Reckless driving with grievous injury,” The
judge finally announces to the room.
 
My
ears immediately perk up and I start searching for the guy.

I see a tall lanky man slowly stand up with a
lawyer next to him.
 
That has to be him —
I can even picture in the cab of the truck just before it hits us.
 
He’s wearing proper clothes, so I assume he’s
out on bail.
 
A little girl — no more
than five-years-old — is hanging off his leg and a posse stands behind him.
 
He doesn’t look more than 40 or so, but he
sure had a busy time — something like four kids ages five to late teens.
 
I think that makes me hate him even more.

Trying to use the sympathy vote to get out of what
he did.

It makes me want to spit bile just thinking about
it.

“Mr. Stanton,” the judge continues, “how do you
plea?”

Stanton leans over to whisper to his lawyer, nods
his head a few times and then looks at the judge.

“No contest, your honor,” he states.

Of the three choices he had — guilty, no contest,
and not guilty — no contest is like the agnostic of pleas.
 
You’re admitting only the barest of minimums
of guilt for the offense you you’re pleading to have done.

That is all of the guilt, none of the
consequences.

It makes me instantly angry.
 
It means I can’t sue him for anything that
might come from a guilty plea.
 
I can’t
seek compensation from him for medical bills, property damages, etc.

I’m basically left without a foot to stand on and
he gets off scot-free when his sentence is finished.

The judge nods his head in acknowledgement and
reads the rest of the verdict.

“Very well.
 
The defendant has
plead
no contest to the charges.
 
The sentence
will be six months in county jail, to be served immediately.”
 
My jaw hits the floor.
 
Six months?
 
Are they kidding?!
 
I groan loudly
and several people turn to look at me.

“You will also have a period of three years on
probation to begin following the completion of your incarceration.
 
You have a $1,000 fine, to be paid before
your probation is completed.
 
Finally,
your driver’s license will be suspended until successful completion of this
sentence.”

“Do you understand this ruling as I have explained
it to you?”

“Yes, your honor.”

I’m pissed now.

“This is bullshit!” I can’t stop myself from
speaking.
 
Ethan and Quentin move closer
to me
—
 
either
to help me if things got out of hand or to prevent me from making things get
out of hand.
 
Every head in the room
turns toward me.

I add their stares to my anger.

“Excuse me,” the judge asks.
 
I stare right at Stanton.

“This guy falls asleep at the wheel and smashes
into my car and what does he get as punishment?
 
Nothing!”
 
I give up on controlling my anger as I did in the hospital.
 
This man wrecked my life and destroyed
Sam.
 
There is no way I’m leaving without
at least a little of his hide in my teeth.

“I lose my scholarship to a good college because I
have no left eye because of him!
 
Sam, my
best friend, is in a coma and lost her legs, because of HIM!
 
I can’t play soccer anymore, something I
love, because OF HIM!
 
I have pins and
bolts in my arm because OF HIM!
 
She will
never run again, something
she
loves
to do, BECAUSE OF HIM!
 
And all he gets
is a fucking slap on the wrist and a ‘don’t do it again’!?
 
That’s fucking bullshit!”

The entire room is silent and I can see that there
are more sheriffs now than there were before.
 
Apparently, yelling in the courtroom is cause for alarm.
 
The judge is calm and collected as he let me
tirade.
 
Stanton looks devastated, which
makes me feel even angrier.
 
He has no
right to pity us.

None!

Nate has a proud look on his face while Mary is surprised.
 
My dad and mom seem equally surprised, but
Jenn
is smiling like it’s the funniest thing in the world
that everyone is so shocked.
 
Ethan and
Quentin take another step closer to me.
 
My anger is overflowing and I do not intend to try to stop it.

Everyone can burn in my flames for all I care.

“This asshole—” I jab my finger at Stanton to make
my point, “destroyed not just one, but two lives that night!
 
But no one seems to care about that!”
 
I take a step closer to Stanton and he
recoils a bit, placing his daughter behind him in order to protect her from
me.
 
My rage explodes in my chest and I
growl angrily.

Ethan and Quentin each grab an arm as I try to
make a break for Stanton.
 
I’m so lost in
the red of rage I can barely hear what I’m yelling.
 
I struggle against my two friends as they
pull me from the room and into the parking lot.
 
A couple of sheriffs follow us out in order to help if needed.
 
They follow me with their eyes as I pace
through the parked cars.
 
Ethan and
Quentin stand in close proximity to prevent me from entering the courthouse
again.

“I think we should go out tonight,” Ethan
announces after my tenth lap around the cars, “I think you need to blow off
some steam.”
 
I stop pacing and look at
him for a minute, shocked.
 
I think it’s
not the best idea — all I want to do is fume in silence — but maybe a night out
would do me good.

I slowly nod my head.

We start walking back to the car as Quentin texts
Nate and my dad about what we’re doing.
 
I know exactly why he said that, but I’m slowly coming back to my senses
now.
 
The red is fading, but a clear
picture of Stanton with his family causes the rage to flare up again.
 
One minute I'm walking by a cement wall and
the next a single memory is turned into an uncontrollable jolt through my arm.
 

It’s almost on reflex, like an involuntary spasm.

My fist smashes into the concrete and the pain
instantly clears my head.
 
I’m still
fuming to the point that acknowledging the pain is not an option, but not angry
enough to disregard the pain altogether.

“Feel better?” Quentin asks through his bright
smile.
 
Ugh.
 
My rage fizzles even more at the playful tone
of his voice.
 
Ethan is grinning behind
him.
 
I roll my eyes.

“Shut up,” I tell Quentin, then look at Ethan and
his stupid grin, “And you!
 
Wipe that
shit off your face, you look like an idiot.” I can’t stop the smallest of
smiles from crossing my face as I see Ethan’s grin grow exponentially.
 
We finish walking to the car.

I don’t even have to tell them where I want to go
next.

I walk into Sam’s room just as the nurse is
emptying Sam’s dialysis bag.
 
The sight
of her piss in a bag turns me off.
 
I
know she can’t help it, but I can’t help myself.
 
It’s disgusting.

Sam wouldn’t have had that thought; she’s always
been the better one of us.

“Just give me a minute, love,” the nurse tells me
as she starts to clean up around the bag, “I’ll be out of your hair in no time
at all.”
 
I nod slightly as I slide a
chair to Sam’s open side.

“She’s a lovely girl,” she notices while looking
at her face.
 
I gently take Sam’s hand
into mine.

“Yes.
 
Yes,
she is.”
 
I stare at Sam’s face for a
moment or two before the nurse turns to leave.