K. Randis - Spilled Milk

I had some questions of my own for Heather and Rob. “Who do I look at when I’m answering a question? I want to look at the person who asks but I don’t want to look at David. I can feel the jury looking at me, so I don’t know where to look.”

“Talk to the jury,” Rob said, “They’re the ones that need to understand, not myself, not David’s lawyer.”

“And you can always look at me,” Heather suggested. “I’ll be sitting with the previous jurors and family members who are supporting you.”

“Can I use words like penis and rape? Can I say that?”

“You can use whatever words you need to give the jury as much detail as you can. There’s no right or wrong way, you won’t get in trouble in that court room. Not even if you curse, or cry. It’s expected. There’s a lot of emotion,” Rob said.

“Don’t feel like you need to answer a question right away either. If you need to think about it for a few seconds, then do that. There are a lot of dates and specifics that they’ll try and confuse you with. Listen to the question carefully, ask them to repeat it if you need another minute to think.” Heather smiled. “You’ll be okay.”

“I didn’t want to do this again.”

“We know.” Rob rubbed the scruff on his face. “But we’re really glad you are.”

When I walked through the white door of the courtroom again, it wasn’t any easier. I knew what to expect though, so the stares from the jurors were not so intense and I managed to completely ignored Earl when I took my seat on the witness stand.

Rob started first, and we channeled through his questions like we were old pals catching up on each other’s lives. We established that I bought my own car and anything else I needed from working and that I wanted to sleep at my boyfriend’s house because I was scared to go home, not to be rebellious. “Brooke can you please explain to the jury, in detail, what happened during the two incidents you were raped.”

Too ashamed to make eye contact with any of the jurors, I spoke to the wall behind them. My eyes burned when I tried to explain how I was grabbed and pinned down on the bed. By the time I started to explain the second rape, an unfamiliar warmth shot across my chest. I was angry.

I gripped the edge of the witness box, the tone in my voice articulate and betrayed, not caring anymore about the tears that soaked my face. When I finished, I glanced up to make sure the jury was still there, that they had heard me. I caught sight of an older black man with a bald head. A hand covered his mouth, his brow wrinkled in fury.

I steadied myself for the defense to start. Earl had a new lawyer, again. He struggled to get out of his seat and smoothed his jacket over his protruding belly.

“Brooke, I’m Mr. Solak.” He approached, his eyes told me he wasn’t going to let me go easily. This time, I was ready.

Okay Brooke, here we go. Be precise. Be strong. Be truthful. Be yourself.

Mr. Solak edged his way around a poster board he had on display in front of the jurors. “Brooke, on this diagram of the upstairs of your house, could you please tell me what room this is?” He pointed to my parent’s room.

Be precise.

“That’s the room I was raped in.”

He nodded at first, undoubtedly not expecting to hear that, then frowned and glanced at Rob who’s face tried not to give away that he was smirking.

“Please tell me who slept in this room.”

“Oh, my parents.”

“And what room is this alllll the way down here.” He dragged his finger to the other side of the hallway, stretching out his words as if to say ‘ See how much distance is between each room?’

“The room I would hide in. My bedroom.”

The corners of his mouth dropped. “So you expect the jury to believe that Mr. Nolan carried you all the way to his bedroom?”

Be strong.

I looked down at my diminishing figure, and then up at the jury. “Yep. All 95 pounds of me.”

On cue, the jury glanced across the room at Earl, studying his stocky, more than two hundred pound body. Exhilarated that they got my point I positioned myself for more.

Mr. Solak pulled out my grades from high school and asked me to read them out loud. When I was finished he turned to the jury with a smug look. “So your grades actually increased during the time you claim to have been raped.”

It wasn’t a question, or even directed to me, but I spoke up. “Because the only time I was allowed to keep my bedroom door locked is when I was studying. So guess what I did all the time?”

I knew I didn’t fit the classification of what everyone thought a sexually abused child acted or looked like. My coping skills just happened to be funneled into productive outlets instead of destructive ones.

Mr. Solak didn’t even have the patience to object. Instead he fired off another question; one he thought would corner me for sure. “Miss Nolan, if this was going on for so long, why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Be truthful.

“I thought I was protecting my brothers and sister.” For the first time I made eye contact with the jury. “I thought that if I let him hurt me, he wouldn’t hurt them. But I wasn’t protecting them , I was protecting him . I thought that what happened in my house was normal, I didn’t know anything else, it was all I knew. But when I found out…” I shook my head, still in disbelief that I actually thought this happened in every household. “When I knew that my house was different, I knew it had to stop.”

“And what is it you’d like to see happen to David?”

Be yourself.

He wanted me to show a malicious side, Rob told me earlier. The truth was it didn’t matter to me if Earl ended up in jail. I didn’t care if he strutted around in anklets and never saw the outside world again. It wasn’t about that, this was not revenge. I didn’t have a mean bone in my body, even after everything he’d put me through. There was really only one response I could give.

“I just want to make sure that he can never hurt anybody ever again. It doesn’t matter what happens, I just don’t want to see other people get hurt.”

“No further questions, your Honor,” said Mr. Solak. He waddled over to his table and huffed as he sat down.

Rob had one more point to prove. “Brooke, you testified earlier that the reason why your grades were so high was because you studied a lot?”

“Yes.”

“So when Mr. Nolan was trashing the house, or abusing your brothers or sister, you coped by distracting yourself…with studying?”

“Yes.” The tone in his voice was disbelief. I got uneasy about what he was trying to say. Wasn’t he supposed to be my lawyer? Wasn’t he on my side?

“You can tunnel your stress, your worry, and forget about everything else except what you’re trying to memorize?”

“Yea.”

“Brooke could you please empty the contents of your pocket for the jury?”

“Objection your honor, relevance?” Mr. Solak didn’t want any more surprises. He shook his head at Rob and waited for the judge to make a call.

The judge looked as surprised as I was.

“I assure you, Your Honor, the relevance will be revealed momentarily.”

The judge eyed Rob. “I’ll allow it.” She leaned forward on her bench to get a closer look.

Three index cards fell out of my pocket and onto the stand in front of me. I realized where Rob was going with this and grinned.

“Brooke, please tell the jury, what the contents of your pocket are.”

I picked up the note cards and turned them over in my hands. “They’re chemical reactions, for my organic chemistry class. I have an exam in two days.”