The Sabbathday River (46 page)

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Authors: Jean Hanff Korelitz

BOOK: The Sabbathday River
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Then, as sharply as it had begun, it ended. Judith pulled herself together, and Naomi found her voice.
“Are you—”
“I'm fine.” Judith put up her head. Her eyes, incredibly, held only the faintest aftermath of tears. “It gets me sometimes. This whole mishegaas. You'd think people wouldn't fuck up their lives like this, you know?”
“I know,” said Naomi, who wasn't sure she did but thought it best to say so. She kissed her friend. “It's all right.”
“You think so?”
“Of course,” Naomi said heartily, glad that whatever had just passed between them appeared to have passed. “I'm sorry we quarreled,” she said after a minute. “Did we quarrel?”
Judith looked surprised. “No. Not at all.” Then she smiled. “I mean, I don't think we did.”
“Friends can quarrel,” Naomi said, offhand. “Not that we did.”
“Sure.” She looked at her watch. Ten minutes to court.
“Did you fix it so I could bring Polly to see her mom today?”
Judith nodded. “Yeah. They're expecting you around six.”
“Good. That'll give me time to get up to Mrs. Horgan and back.”
“Have you told Polly?”
Naomi bit her lip. “Well no. I don't think she'd get it, actually. So I didn't.”
“Well, I'm sure you're right.”
“It's the only thing I could think of yesterday,” said Naomi. “I mean Heather was so …” She trailed off. She was not willing to open this subject again. “Anyway, I think it'll be good for them both. Get Heather back on track a bit, you know? Give her something to focus on.”
“Hope so,” Judith said briefly. She was looking past Naomi now, to the front steps of the courthouse with its little thicket of people and microphones. Naomi saw her concentrate, her lips pursed.
“What?” Naomi turned her head, too.
Judith was beginning to smile. “I spy …”
“What?”
“With my little eye … Well, well.” She nodded. “So they actually made it.”
Abruptly she grinned, and Naomi could only look blankly at her, struck speechless by the quicksilver of this transition.
“What?”
“Not a what. It's a who.”
A who, Naomi thought, quickly turning to follow the line of Judith's gaze. Or indeed a what, for though two of the three people walking toward them were decidedly female, the figure at the forefront of their triangle was not immediately classifiable. It was tall, with slender hips and light hair close-shaved to a delicate skull. It wore a silver stud in one ear, a pair of corduroys the color of rust, and a dark green sweatshirt that said, bewilderingly, WAD. Or was it W.A.D.? Naomi peered. One of the women was carrying a knapsack over the crook of her elbow, unzipped and crammed with lavender paper.
“I'm Ella,” said the one in front. A woman? Naomi frowned. She had a deep voice.
“Hello, Ella.” Judith got up. Naomi got up, too.
“We spoke last night.”
“So we did. I'm so pleased you could make it.”
They shook hands all around. One of the others was called Simone. The third woman just said hi and ducked her head.
“We had a meeting last night,” Ella said. She stood with her hands on her narrow hips. “I'm not the only one who'd seen the magazine. A bunch of us felt that we needed to get together and speak about it.”
Judith nodded, reserved but open. “I'm glad.”
“It was when we read that she'd been at Dartmouth that we more or less felt compelled to be here. You know?”
Naomi, who didn't, looked at Judith. Judith smiled and nodded.
“I mean, bad enough this should happen at all. Even worse that it should happen where we live ourselves. But the fact that she was a member of our own academic community—that's what sort of put us over the edge. So we started calling, and Simone set up a table at Thayer this morning with a sign-up sheet. We'll have a convoy here sometime around midday. After morning classes,” she said, a touch apologetically.
Naomi, who was taking this in, looked in alarm at Judith. Judith wanted this?
But Judith seemed pleased. “And may I see the flyer?”
The as-yet-nameless woman handed Judith one of her lavender pages. WHY IS HEATHER PRATT ON TRIAL? Naomi read over her shoulder. BECAUSE A PATRIARCHAL JUSTICE SYSTEM WOULD RATHER FIND A WITCH TO BURN THAN EXAMINE ITS OWN CONSCIENCE.
“This is good,” Judith said. She passed the flyer to Naomi. “How are you going to do this?”
“Loud and long,” Simone said affably. “As loud we can and as long as it takes.”
“Ah,” Judith said. “Well, that might, in the end, be the less effective course.
Simone looked suddenly fierce, but Ella appeared to listen.
“The thing is, we all want the same thing here. We want to help Heather. Yes?”
A tentative nod from the nameless one. Ella still held her counsel.
“So we need you to make your points on her behalf without calling undue attention to other elements of your platform, regardless of how we ourselves are in solidarity with them. This is a very conservative community, as you know. This isn't Hanover.”
The rolling of eyes. Hanover wasn't, evidently, Hanover either.
“I hope you're not expecting us to ‘dress appropriately,'” Simone sneered.
“Not at all. By all means, be here and be yourselves. But you'll be doing Heather no good at all if you appear aggressive. Try not to give the impression that you feel bitterness toward the members of this community, or by extension the television or radio community. If you're asked to speak to the press, do it calmly, even though you're angry. You support Heather. You're here for Heather, because you think her treatment has been unfair, and you're ready to say why. But if you yell and scream, you'll alienate people who'd otherwise agree with you. Do you see?”
They looked uncomfortably at one another. “Thank you,” Ella said finally. “We respect your opinion.”
“And I yours,” Judith said evenly. Naomi handed back the flyer. “I appreciate your being here, and I know Heather will, too.”
“Tell her Dartmouth women support her!” the nameless one chirped, and Judith nodded and said she would. Then they turned in a single, formless group and went back to the courthouse to take up their assigned positions.
There Is No Group Here
“DARTMOUTH WOMEN SUPPORT YOU,” JUDITH SAID archly, as Heather was seated next to her.
“What?” said Heather. She looked, if possible, even more wan than the day before. The trial was acting as a kind of parasite, sucking her strength from within. There was, Naomi mused, some manner of race going on, to see whether it would finish its work before the proceedings were completed.
“Your sisters. Your fellow women of Dartmouth. They're turning out to support you in their covens. They're visualizing victory.”
“I don't understand,” Heather said fearfully. “I don't know anyone at Dartmouth. I only met a few people.”
“
Judith,
” Naomi whispered disapprovingly. “Come on.”
Without turning around, Judith nodded consent. She went back to her notes for Ann Chase. She was looking forward to this. Heather, for her part, twisted around to give Naomi a querying look, and Naomi tried to hustle up an expression of warm encouragement.
“I'm bringing Polly tonight. It's all set.”
Heather closed her eyes, briefly animated. Then that passed, too, and she turned around again.
Ann arrived, early and as bright as Naomi had ever seen her. She was dressed in something Naomi had never seen her wear—a magenta woolen dress with a lace collar—and she had had something done to her hair, Naomi thought: a kind of hardening rinse that lacquered it into place. She walked down the central aisle of the courtroom, passing the table where Judith and Heather sat, and somehow managing to convey her contempt for them without ever glancing in their direction. After being sworn in, a ritual she enacted with gravity and no small self-importance, she gave her name as Mrs. Whit Chase and took her seat. She did not seem to suffer on the witness stand, as Naomi had done. She spoke with confidence, if not perceivable glee.
Heather—the gist of her testimony went—was a slut.
Heather flaunted her affair, and then her pregnancy, and later her child.
Heather dressed provocatively. She even disrobed in public. In fact: on the deck of Tom and Whit's general store, Ann's own family business. This, as it happened, created such a horrendous situation that the police had to come to persuade her to cover herself.
That Heather had found herself in this situation was not remotely surprising. Heather had never shown the slightest regard for any but her own needs, wishes, and, above all, urges.
She had not personally met Christopher Flynn, Ann Chase concluded, but she had heard of him.
When Charter finished his direct examination, Ann looked smoothly at Judith without anxiety, even waiting calmly while Judith jotted notes.
Judith stood. She tugged the back of her jacket and stood at her place. “Hello,” she said.
A wary nod.
“I'm Judith Friedman. We've met before, though I don't think we were formally introduced.”
That day at the mill, Naomi thought. Clearly Judith hoped to unnerve Ann with the memory.
Ann pursed her lips.
“You stated your name”—Judith smiled—“as Mrs. Whit Chase.” Her voice was warm. Alarmingly warm, Naomi thought, looking quickly at her. “Would it be all right if I called you Whit?”
“I …” Ann's composure drained immediately. “No. My
husband.
My husband's name is Whit.”
“Oh, but you said …” Judith stumbled carefully. “I don't understand. Do you have a first name of your own?”
“Ann,” said Ann Chase. “My name is Ann.”
“Oh,” Judith said. “I'm sorry. I was confused. Well, may I call you Ann?” Ann Chase clearly wished to say no, but instead she nodded.
“That's fine.”
“Good.
Ann
. Now”—she made a show of shuffling her papers—“I've been listening carefully to your testimony, and I'm not sure I understand exactly why you're here today. Am I right in thinking that you have no direct knowledge that bears on the deaths of these two infants?”
It took her a moment to work through the syntax. Then she took umbrage. “You are not right. I know what I know.”
“But what is that, Ann?” Judith said sweetly. “Your testimony has been wholly about what you considered to be Heather's sexual misbehavior. I never heard you even mention the two infants whose deaths are at issue in this trial. Am I wrong about that?”
“Well.” She was thinking through her response. “It may be that my only eyewitness account was of her taking off her clothes and messing around with a married man, but I think that has something to do with the babies. If
you
don't …” She shrugged dramatically and rolled her eyes.
“Did Heather confide relevant information to you?” Judith pressed.
“Of course not,” Ann said, offended.
“She never said, ‘Ann, because we're friends or acquaintances, I want to unburden myself to you and tell you what is happening in my life'?”
“No.” She shook her head to dislodge the disagreeable thought.
“Oh, but then you must have seen her do something to these babies, with your own eyes. And so you're here to tell us what you saw.”
“Did I
say
that?” Ann sneered. “Did you
hear
me say that?”
“No, Ann,” Judith said solemnly. “What I heard you say was that you did not like Heather. You did not approve of her choice of lover or her behavior with that lover. But you see, I can't for the life of me figure out what your opinion of Heather's personal life has to do with two dead babies. I'm just completely at a loss, and I need you to help me. That's all.”
“Which part don't you understand?” Ann said cruelly. “The part
about her running around with a married man and taking off her clothes in public or the part about her having babies out of wedlock and expecting that to be just super fine with everybody?”
“Ah,” Judith said happily. “I'm glad you brought this up, because I'd like to look more carefully at these things, if you don't mind.”
“I don't mind,” Ann said smugly, gearing up to vent again.
“I take it you disapproved of the fact that Heather and Ashley had a physical, sexual relationship.”
“Certainly.” She nodded. “It was disgusting.”
“You must have been forced to witness many lewd acts, I suppose. For example, actual intercourse between Heather and Ashley?”
“Don't be ridiculous. They wouldn't do it in front of me!”
“No?” Judith said. “Well, perhaps you saw them fondle each other. Did you see that?”
“No.” She was catching on, and naturally she didn't like it.
“Well, you must have seen them kiss, I suppose.” She waited a beat. “You never even saw them kiss?”
Ann, tense, remained silent.
“What about hand-holding?”
Her timing, Naomi thought, was matchless.
“Did you ever even see them speak to each other?”
Now Ann wasn't talking on principle. She sat, petulant, in her seat, her arms crossed. At this point Judith calmly asked Judge Hayes to request that the witness answer. To Ann's immense displeasure, he did so.
“I never saw those things,” she spat. “All right?”
“Well, sure.” Judith frowned. “But then how exactly did Ashley and Heather flaunt their sexual relationship in front of you? I mean, from what you describe, they sound as if they were pretty discreet about their activities.”
“They would go off in the woods!” Ann shouted. “They didn't do it where anybody could see.”
“Now how”—Judith smiled—“could you possibly know that?” She waited for the answer she knew wouldn't come. “Did you follow Ashley and Heather into the woods, Ann?”
“There was a group,” she said, haughty but newly uncertain.
“I don't care about a group,” Judith instructed sternly. She held out her hands, the palms up. “There is no
group
here. You've come forward
voluntarily to lend the weight of your own testimony—your own evidence—to the serious charges against Heather. I'm interested in
you.
”
“Fine.” Ann jerked her head. Her red cheeks were flushed even deeper than usual. “That's fine.”
“So you followed Ashley and Heather into the woods.”
“There were—” She stopped herself and gave Judith a bitter look. “I did. Sure.”
“Do you recall the date of this event?”
“Last January. I don't know the date.”
“Could it have been January the sixteenth?”
She shrugged. “Could have been.”
“And whose idea was it to drive out after Ashley and Heather?”
“Sue's idea,” Ann said. “His
wife's
.”
“Did you walk or did you drive your car?”
“I drove.”
“Did you wait to see which way Ashley's car was going and then follow it?”
“I guess,” she said tersely.
“And what was the route you followed?”
Ann frowned. “Along the Sabbathday River, past Nate's Landing. There was a logging road.”
“Was it a long drive?” Judith voice was vaguely sympathetic.
“Not too long.”
“And how far back in the woods?”
“‘Bout a quarter mile. Their car was parked.”
“Was it light out, Ann?” Judith asked.
“No. It was dark.”
“And were there lights on inside Ashley's car?”
“No.” Then, unable to resist: “They didn't need any lights for what they were doing!”
Judith smiled at this unanticipated tidbit. “But how could you see what they were doing, Ann? By your own account it was dark out and dark inside the car.”
“I had a flashlight!”
Judith looked studiously amazed. “You had a flashlight? You went up to this car, in the darkness, in the woods, and shone a flashlight in it?”
She was enraged. “You're making it sound worse than it was! You make out it was me doing something wrong. You don't care about what they were doing!” she yelled.
Naomi looked reflexively at the jury, as she did whenever there was some outburst. Her favorite juror, she was pleased to note, looked downright embarrassed.
“But that's just my point, Ann,” Judith said kindly. “I
don't
care what they were doing. It's none of my business what those two consenting adults were doing in their car, in the woods after dark. What I don't understand is why
you
cared.”
She waited for an answer, knowing there wouldn't be one.
“Is it possible that you got in your car on a winter's night and followed this young couple along a snowy, remote road into the woods, and then took out your flashlight and approached their car, because after eighteen months of what you considered a public affair, you wanted to see it with your own eyes?”
“That's absolutely revolting!” Ann said. “I resent that!”
“After all,” Judith went on, impervious, “this wanton affair had been going on and on. You knew it had to be a sexual affair, because people said so, and because there had been a baby. Polly. But you'd never actually seen any action, had you?”
“I'm not going to answer that!” she yelped.
“So when you took your flashlight and approached their car, weren't you hoping you'd get to see an actual, carnal act? Something you considered obscene? Something you could tell your friends about? You were hoping to see some skin, weren't you, Ann?”

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