The Burgess Boys (25 page)

Zach looked sorry. He looked pitiful and young, telling this to Charlie, everything they’d rehearsed. Charlie said, Okay, then, and sat down.

Diane Dodge stood up. A sheen of perspiration glistened on her forehead, she pushed her glasses up her nose. In her high voice, she began. So one day, Mr. Olson, you just decided you would go find yourself a pig’s head. You went to a slaughterhouse and there was a pig’s head and you decided to take it and now you sit in this court under oath and tell us you don’t know why you did that.

Zachary looked terrified. He kept licking his lips, answering, “It was just there.”

The judge asked Zach if he would like a glass of water.

“Oh. Ah. No, sir.”

Was he sure?

“Um. Okay, sir. Your Honor, sir. Thank you.”

A glass of water was handed to him, and after putting it to his lips he didn’t seem to know where to place the glass, even though there was room for it on the stand. From the corner of his eye Bob glanced at Susan. She sat, watching her son.

You went to the slaughterhouse of a friend, who is no longer a friend, with the intention of obtaining the head of a pig.

“No, sir. Ma’am. No, ma’am.” His hand trembled and the water spilled, which seemed to startle Zach, who looked immediately down at his pants. Charlie Tibbetts rose then, took the glass from Zachary, placed it on the stand to his right, and returned to his seat. The judge nodded just slightly to indicate they could proceed.

You didn’t take the head of a sheep, or a lamb, or a cow, or a goat, did you? You took the head of a pig. Is that right?

“There weren’t any other heads there, because of mad cow disease, you can’t—”

Answer the question yes or no. You took the head of a pig, is that right?

“Yes.”

And you don’t know why. Is that what we’re to believe?

“Yes, ma’am.”

Really. We’re supposed to believe that.

Charlie stood: Badgering.

Diane Dodge turned slowly in a full circle, and said, You stored this in your mother’s freezer.

“Yes, in the basement freezer.”

Was your mother aware the pig’s head was there?

Charlie stood: Objection, calling for speculation—

So Zachary did not have to answer that his mother had not used that freezer for years, not since her husband left her to go find his roots in Sweden, left her without anyone except this skinny child to cook for, no need for a freezer in the basement now, not like when she was newly married to her young husband from New Sweden, Maine, who these days could not, apparently, so much as telephone his son, could only tap out an email once in a while— Bob opened his hands on his lap, spread his fingers out, taut. Cold Susan had married a cold man, from a landscape stark as hers. And here was little Zach, with his washed ears, saying, “It was thawing in my hand and that’s why it slipped. I didn’t mean to hurt them.”

So you’re telling me, you expect me to believe, you expect this court to believe, that you had no idea this pig’s head would just roll its way into the mosque? Just walking along Gratham Street one evening, and oh by the way, I thought I’d carry along a frozen pig’s head?

Charlie rose: Your Honor, she is—

The judge nodded, held up a hand.

Diane Dodge said to Zach, Is that what you’re telling me?

Zach looked confused. “I’m sorry. Can you ask me the question again?”

You did not believe, even though you knew this was a gathering place for Somalis, that it was a mosque, their place of worship, you still did not believe that the pig’s head was going to go into the mosque and cause harm?

“I wish I didn’t walk to the door. I didn’t want to cause anyone harm. No, ma’am.”

And you expect me to believe that. You expect this judge to believe that. You expect Abdikarim Ahmed and Mohamed Hussein to believe that. She flung her hand to indicate those sitting in the back of the courtroom. Her green blazer opened briefly, showing the beige dress across her small chest.

Charlie stood: Your Honor—

Counselor, please rephrase the question.

Do you expect us to believe this?

Zach looked puzzled and glanced toward Charlie, who gave the slightest nod.

Answer the question, Mr. Olson.

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

And you knew, of course you knew, that this was during Ramadan, the holiest of holidays for those of the Islamic faith?

Charlie rose: Objection, badgering—

You may rephrase the question.

Were you aware that during the time this pig’s head
slipped from your fingers into the mosque
that it was the holy season of Ramadan? Diane Dodge poked her glasses up her nose and clasped her hands once more behind her back.

“No, ma’am. I didn’t even know what Ramadan was.”

And your ignorance included the fact that pork is vile to Muslims?

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand the question.”

And on and on, until she was done with him, and Charlie was able to ask questions again. He asked his questions quietly, as he had before. Zachary, had you heard of Ramadan at the time of this incident?

“Not then, no, sir.”

When did you first hear what Ramadan was?

“Later, after I read about it in the paper. I didn’t know what it was before.”

And how did you feel when you found out?

Objection: The question is not related to the facts.

The answer is completely related to the facts. If my client is accused of—

You may answer the question, Mr. Olson.

Charlie asked again, How did you feel when you found out it was Ramadan?

“I felt bad. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

The judge said to Charlie, Move it along, counselor, we’ve covered this before.

You weren’t aware of the regulations regarding mad cow disease specifying particular preparations of slaughter for any animal with a spine?

“I didn’t know anything about that. I didn’t know a pig didn’t have a spine that went up to its head.”

Objection
. Diane Dodge almost shrieked the word, and the judge nodded.

And what did you think you might do with the pig’s head once you took it?

“I thought it might be funny for Halloween. On a front stoop or something.”

Your Honor! This is material being repeated! As though its ostensible veracity will
increase
with each telling. Diane Dodge stood with a look of such sneering ridicule on her face that, had Bob been the judge, he would have cited her for contempt. For surely she was contemptuous.

But the judge agreed with her, and finally Zachary was allowed to leave the stand. His cheeks were bright red as he sat at the table next to Charlie.

Recess was called while the judge considered his ruling. Again Bob glanced at Margaret Estaver, again there was a small nod. Bob went with Zachary and Susan and Charlie Tibbetts to sit in a small room off the courtroom. They stayed absolutely silent until Susan asked Zach if he needed anything, and Zachary looked at the ground and shook his head. They returned to the courtroom when an officer rapped on the door.

The judge asked Zachary Olson to stand. Zach rose, his cheeks red as ripe tomatoes, sweat sliding in drops down the side of his face. The judge said he was guilty of the civil rights violation, that he had committed a threat of violence that violated the First Amendment right to freedom of religion, and should he not abide by the injunction, prohibiting him from going within two miles of the mosque, except to see his lawyer, and having no contact with the Somali community, he faced a five-thousand-dollar fine and up to a year in jail. At this point the judge removed his glasses and looked blandly (and therefore almost cruelly) at Zach, and said, “Mr. Olson, in this state right now there are two hundred such orders in effect. There are six people who have violated them. And they are—all—in jail.” The judge pointed a finger at Zach, his head thrust forward. “So the next time I see you in this courtroom, young man, you’d better bring your toothbrush. It’s the only thing you’ll need. Adjourned.”

Zach turned to look for his mother. The alarm in his eyes rippled through Bob, who would remember it forever.

And so would Abdikarim.

In the hallway Margaret Estaver stood off to one side. Bob touched Zach’s shoulder and said, “I’ll see you back at the house.”

They rode through the streets of Shirley Falls, and finally Bob spoke. “The decision was already written, before any of the testimony was heard. You know that’s true. That Diane Dodge just beat up on him.”

“She did,” Margaret agreed. They were riding along the river, the empty old mills to their right. The sky was a light gray above the empty parking lots.

“She was enjoying it,” Bob said. “She loved it.” When Margaret didn’t respond to this he glanced at her, and she returned the look with a concerned face. “You can see what a sad guy Zach is,” Bob added. He moved his feet around two empty soda cans, a wrinkled paper bag. She had apologized earlier for the untidiness of her car.

“He’s a heartbreaker.” Margaret turned the wheel and drove up past the community college. She said, “I don’t know if Charlie told you. About Jim.”

“Jim? My brother? What about him?”

“It seems he hurt things. I know he came up here wanting to help. But he spoke so well he made Dick Hartley feel like a fool, and worse—he didn’t stick around.”

“Jim never sticks around.”

“Well.” Margaret said the word with a sigh. “In Maine you stick around.” Her hair, pulled up messily, had strands that hid part of her face. She said, “The governor spoke after him, if you recall, and it was taken as a sign of disrespect—I’m just telling you what I heard—that Jim walked away right as the governor got ready to speak.” Margaret slowed for a stop sign. “And of course,” she added in a lower voice, “the governor didn’t speak so well.”

“Nobody’s going to speak as well as Jim, it’s what he does.”

“I could see that. I’m just saying there was some fallout in Augusta. I know someone in the AG’s office up there, and apparently Dick Hartley stewed about this for weeks, and then gave Diane the go-ahead as soon as they felt they could prove the bias part. Jim called Diane himself, is that right? It only made her angrier, of course. I think that’s part of what you heard today.”

Bob looked out his window at the small houses they were passing, Christmas wreaths still hanging on many doors. “Were there editorials about this in the
Shirley Falls Journal
? Jim reads that online.”

“No, this was all internal, I think. And the reality is—well, you saw those men testify, Mohamed and Abdikarim. It was a really distressing thing for them to go through. I know you know all that. But this decision today may nudge the U.S. Attorney’s Office along. Some folks in the Somali community are still pushing for them to take action.”

“Jesus.” Bob gave a small groan. Then he said quietly, “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“For saying ‘Jesus.’ ”

“Oh God. You’re serious.” Margaret looked over at him, rolled her eyes. She made another turn, heading back toward town. “Gerry O’Hare didn’t want the AG’s office going ahead, he didn’t want what happened today. I guess he’s known Susan from way back. His feeling’s been: Enough. But—” Margaret gave a small shrug. “You’ve got people like Rick Huddleston at the Office of Racial Anti-Defamation, who doesn’t ever want it to drop. And honestly, if it wasn’t Zachary,
I
wouldn’t want it dropped.”

“But it is Zachary.” He could not get over the feeling that he had known her a long time.

“Yes, it is.” After a moment, Margaret added, “Oy,” with a sigh.

“Did you say ‘Oy’?”

“I did. One of my husbands was Jewish. I picked up some expressions. He was very expressive.”

They drove past the high school, its playing fields covered with snow. A signboard spelled out GO HORNETS BEAT DRAGONS. “Have you had a lot of husbands?” he asked.

“Two. My first I met in college in Boston, the Jewish one. We’re still friends, he’s pretty great. Then I came home to Maine and I married a man up here, and that ended quickly. Two divorces by the age of fifty. I imagine it affects my credibility.”

“You think so? I don’t think so. If you’re a movie star you’re just getting started with two.”

“I’m not a movie star.” She pulled into Susan’s driveway. Her smile was clear and playful and faintly sad. “Nice to see you, Bob Burgess. Call if there’s anything I can do.”

To his surprise Susan and Zach were at the kitchen table as though they’d been waiting for him. “We were hoping you’d brought something to drink,” Susan said. In her navy blue dress, she appeared grown up, in charge.

“In my duffel bag. Did you look? I got whiskey and wine on my way from the airport.”

“That’s what I figured,” his sister said. “But we don’t go pawing through people’s private belongings in this house. I’d like a little wine. Zachary said he’d like some too.”

Bob poured the wine into water glasses. “Sure you wouldn’t like whiskey, Zach? You’ve had kind of a rough day.”

“I think whiskey might make me sick,” Zach said. “Once I got sick on whiskey.”

“When?” said Susan. “When in the world did that happen?”