asks.
“No. I mean, yes. Coach gave Jeremy his bat.”
“Thank you. Now, Hope, I’d like to go back to the day of the murder.”
I wouldn’t. It’s the last day I’d like to go back to.
“I’m hoping you can help us fill in a few time gaps,” Prosecutor Keller says. “Where were you on the morning of June eleventh?”
“Asleep. In my bed.”
He nods, like he knew this already. “Did you see your brother that morning? Before the police knocked on your door, that is?”
“No.” I add quickly, “But I saw Jeremy when I went to bed the night before. He was in his bed sound asleep.”
“Okay. Let’s talk about the next day. What woke you that morning?”
“Pounding on the door. The front door. It woke Rita and me both up.”
“But not Jeremy?”
I shrug, then remember I’m supposed to use words. “I wouldn’t know about that.”
“Of course,” he says, like he agrees with me. “So what did you do when you heard this pounding on the door?”
“I answered it.”
“Go on, please, Hope.”
The facts. Just the facts
. Raymond’s coaching throbs in my head, along with a headache that better not turn into a migraine. “Sheriff Wells was standing there, with a couple of others behind him. He asked me where Jeremy was, and I told him Jeremy was asleep.”
Keller nods for me to continue, waving one arm while he takes a couple of steps toward the jury.
“Sheriff Wells started to come in, but that’s when Rita took over.”
“That would be your mother and the defendant’s mother, yes?”
“Yes. Rita shoved in front of me and stood in the doorway so they couldn’t get in. ‘What do you want with Jeremy?’ she shouted.” I figure it’s okay to leave out some of the four-letter words Rita used. “ ‘We need to talk with him. There’s been an accident, Rita,’ Sheriff said.
“So Rita asked what kind of accident. And the sheriff told her that Coach Johnson had been found murdered.
“Rita gasped, and tears filled up her eyes. I thought she was going to pass out, so I took hold of her. But she shook me off and glared back at the sheriff and told him to stay right where he was unless he had a search warrant. He said he was waiting on one right now, and she said he would just have to wait then, wouldn’t he.
“Then she slammed the door right in Sheriff Wells’s face and told me to go and check on Jeremy while she kept an eye on the police. So I ran to Jer’s room and knocked and hollered and knocked. Only he didn’t come. And I got so scared that I went in anyway.” I stop then because my mind is flashing back to my brother, sitting on the floor, in the corner, in nothing but his boxers, rocking back and forth and staring at the wall as if he were watching a movie, which I suppose he was in a way.
Keller turns to me, and his voice is soft. “I know this isn’t easy for you, Hope, but would you please tell the court what you saw when you entered Jeremy’s room?”
I take a deep breath. “I saw Jeremy, but I’m not sure he saw me. He wouldn’t look at me, so I sat down on the floorwith him and tried to hold him. I sat there with him until Sheriff Wells got his warrant and barged into the room.”
“What happened next?”
“They tore up his room. They searched under the bed and took photos of everything, including me and Jeremy. Then they searched his closet.”
“And what did they find in your brother’s closet?”
I know this whole courtroom, except for me, has probably already heard exactly what they found. They’ve probably seen pictures. Maybe they’ve even seen it for themselves. “A bat.”
“Was it a wooden bat?” Keller asks.
I nod. “Yes.”
“And even though most of the Panthers use metal bats for the league, what kind of bat did Jeremy own? What kind of bat had Coach given him?”
“A Louisville Slugger.”
Keller bows his head. “Metal or wooden?”
“Wooden,” I admit.
Keller is silent for at least a minute, probably letting that
“No. I mean, yes. Coach gave Jeremy his bat.”
“Thank you. Now, Hope, I’d like to go back to the day of the murder.”
I wouldn’t. It’s the last day I’d like to go back to.
“I’m hoping you can help us fill in a few time gaps,” Prosecutor Keller says. “Where were you on the morning of June eleventh?”
“Asleep. In my bed.”
He nods, like he knew this already. “Did you see your brother that morning? Before the police knocked on your door, that is?”
“No.” I add quickly, “But I saw Jeremy when I went to bed the night before. He was in his bed sound asleep.”
“Okay. Let’s talk about the next day. What woke you that morning?”
“Pounding on the door. The front door. It woke Rita and me both up.”
“But not Jeremy?”
I shrug, then remember I’m supposed to use words. “I wouldn’t know about that.”
“Of course,” he says, like he agrees with me. “So what did you do when you heard this pounding on the door?”
“I answered it.”
“Go on, please, Hope.”
The facts. Just the facts
. Raymond’s coaching throbs in my head, along with a headache that better not turn into a migraine. “Sheriff Wells was standing there, with a couple of others behind him. He asked me where Jeremy was, and I told him Jeremy was asleep.”
Keller nods for me to continue, waving one arm while he takes a couple of steps toward the jury.
“Sheriff Wells started to come in, but that’s when Rita took over.”
“That would be your mother and the defendant’s mother, yes?”
“Yes. Rita shoved in front of me and stood in the doorway so they couldn’t get in. ‘What do you want with Jeremy?’ she shouted.” I figure it’s okay to leave out some of the four-letter words Rita used. “ ‘We need to talk with him. There’s been an accident, Rita,’ Sheriff said.
“So Rita asked what kind of accident. And the sheriff told her that Coach Johnson had been found murdered.
“Rita gasped, and tears filled up her eyes. I thought she was going to pass out, so I took hold of her. But she shook me off and glared back at the sheriff and told him to stay right where he was unless he had a search warrant. He said he was waiting on one right now, and she said he would just have to wait then, wouldn’t he.
“Then she slammed the door right in Sheriff Wells’s face and told me to go and check on Jeremy while she kept an eye on the police. So I ran to Jer’s room and knocked and hollered and knocked. Only he didn’t come. And I got so scared that I went in anyway.” I stop then because my mind is flashing back to my brother, sitting on the floor, in the corner, in nothing but his boxers, rocking back and forth and staring at the wall as if he were watching a movie, which I suppose he was in a way.
Keller turns to me, and his voice is soft. “I know this isn’t easy for you, Hope, but would you please tell the court what you saw when you entered Jeremy’s room?”
I take a deep breath. “I saw Jeremy, but I’m not sure he saw me. He wouldn’t look at me, so I sat down on the floorwith him and tried to hold him. I sat there with him until Sheriff Wells got his warrant and barged into the room.”
“What happened next?”
“They tore up his room. They searched under the bed and took photos of everything, including me and Jeremy. Then they searched his closet.”
“And what did they find in your brother’s closet?”
I know this whole courtroom, except for me, has probably already heard exactly what they found. They’ve probably seen pictures. Maybe they’ve even seen it for themselves. “A bat.”
“Was it a wooden bat?” Keller asks.
I nod. “Yes.”
“And even though most of the Panthers use metal bats for the league, what kind of bat did Jeremy own? What kind of bat had Coach given him?”
“A Louisville Slugger.”
Keller bows his head. “Metal or wooden?”
“Wooden,” I admit.
Keller is silent for at least a minute, probably letting that
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