- Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:

Sorry for splitting the scene up.. but it is a long task and I felt it would have more impact if broken into two parts. I hadn't anticipated how complex this story would become.

About Roy's attorney - I had thought about him a lot - what kind of man is a defense lawyer representing someone like that? I couldn't make him a nice person, nor a particularly competent one. Although I felt the characterization of Thorne as a bit sleazy and mean was definitely a cliche, I just couldn't bring him to life any other way.

  

Strange faces crowded out the courtroom. For three days she had seen the same people come and go, with a healthy handful of new observers mixed in each day the trial went on. Looking to the right, through the aisle between the public seats she could see a cluster of older people dotted around. A chill ran through her at the sight of them, some winking and waving to each other as though a criminal courtroom was their old meeting place. She supposed the reason they came to the court was for some sort of entertainment. They probably went home afterwards and when they bumped into each other on the street or in the supermarkets they would gossip about who went to the wife beaters case and who was at the trial of the kid who burned down his neighbors gazebo, their very own real life Judge Judy.

The sight of such a large crowd turned her already quavering stomach. She hadn't anticipated so many people staring back at her. But then again, she had not faced the gallery before as she was now. Her momentary bravado dissolved the second the wide eyes crawled over her. Not for the first time that morning she had the urge to vomit, and the possibility that she might do so in the stand intensified the anxiety bubbling throughout her body.

She was here. Literally facing judge, jury and her almost-executioner.

And there he was, right there in front of her. For the first time since that night, since she left – escaped – him, she looked at him. He did not look angry. Of course he didn't – he looked pitiful, and that was what he wanted, had always wanted in the end, to be pitied, as if pity could subside any culpability he may have felt over what he had done. His head was bent slightly and he was whispering rapidly to his attorney. He did not look up at her.

So many faces, familiar and strange, all transfixed on her. Behind Roy sat his mom, a dark scowl tugging the corners of her mouth down. There was a whole sea of people she couldn't place sitting in the defense side of the room, except for one very familiar tuft of dark brown hair as she spotted Michael, up in the end rows, just as she figured he would be. And she noticed with surprise that there next to him, looking very uncomfortable and stiff was Dwight. Pam's dazed mind skipped over this, not fully registering their presence or the fact that they were sitting in the defense area. Of course if this was some other situation she and Jim would likely have had a good laugh over that, making up their own guesses as to why the pair of them had – presumably mistakenly – sat in the area assumed to be reserved for those who were there for Roy.

The proceedings got underway and the Judge went through the morning schedule as usual and then bang, it was all happening fast, faster and Murphy was talking, using her name, pulling her back to the courtroom. Pam cringed, shrinking back against the seat. Her heart was beating too fast, her mouth and throat dry and rough as sandpaper.

"Pam," he spoke patiently. She wondered if he had had to call her name more than once. "Some of the things I'm going to ask you about may be painful for you. Please feel free to say if you need to take a moment, okay?"

Pam nodded slightly. Murphy frowned, holding his gaze at her expectantly. Quickly she mumbled a shaky "Yes, sir." at him, blinking rapidly.

Murphy observed her a moment longer before beginning. "You and Mr Anderson had a seven year relationship, isn't that correct?"

"Yes." said Pam.

Murphy stood straight and stiff, clasping his arms against his back. "How did the two of you meet?"

"It was...uh, in the office. He was working in warehouse and I started upstairs on reception." She smiled a small smile. She wasn't really sure why. Roy had been already employed in the warehouse when she took the job. She hadn't really paid much attention to him, not finding much that made him stand out for her until he made his interest in her clear.

"As time went on, how did the relationship progress?"

She thought about it. "He… he would come upstairs and kinda… not flirt, but come up to talk to me sometimes. Eventually he asked me to go on a date with him."

"What was it that you liked about him?" Murphy asked.

"Roy was very.. direct and he seemed to really like me. He was nice to me and I thought we'd have a good time together." Pam said. She looked away from the attorney. The expression of sympathy showing on his face was almost too much for her to bear.

Murphy continued. "Where did you go on your first date together?"

Pam shifted her eyes uncomfortably and looked down at her hands. "Um… a minor league hockey game, actually."

"This was your first date, you went to a hockey game. Did you have a good time?"

Pam knew what he was driving at, they had been over this in the preparation. She'd been embarrassed then to talk about it, but now was a whole new level of shame. "It….It wasn't great...He brought his brother too." A flush crept into her cheeks.

Murphy nodded slowly. "His brother accompanied you on your first date?" he said, scratching his head.

"Yes."

"It wasn't great because his brother was there too?"

"Yeah… and," she said timidly. "Also when I went to the bathroom, the game ended and they forgot about me. They had to come back for me."

"Ouch. I'm sure that was very unpleasant." Murphy said with obvious distaste. "But you did agree to go out with him again?"

"Yes I did." It sounded ridiculous even to her, coming out of her own mouth. And why had she agreed to see him again exactly?

Murphy was thinking the same. "Why was that?"

Pam considered her answer a moment before replying. "I liked him." she said, finally. "He thought what happened at the game was funny, but he did apologize."

The mans lips pursed thoughtfully and he moved to the other side of the witness box. "And during those first few months of dating, he was good to you, he treated you well?"

Pam turned towards him. "Yeah.. I mean, he could be thoughtless but he treated me okay." She tugged at her shirt, twisting it in between her fingers.

"As things went on it was a typical relationship, you did things together, you went on dates?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Did he, say, bring you flowers?"

"Once or twice I think."

"Jewelry?"

"Not at first." Pam said.

"And his brother, did he accompany you on further dates with Mr Anderson?" Murphy said, looking curiously in Roy's direction.

"Yes, sometimes." Truthfully, she remembered Kenny being with them more often than not, something she had accepted without complaint during the early stages of the relationship although she had never truly been comfortable having Kenny there during their dates.

"So, we've established that up until a point the relationship was, for the most part normal." Murphy concluded, gazing at her carefully. "I want to take you back to the night of your boss's birthday party. Could you tell us in your own words what happened that night?"

Silence rang out through the room.

She looked around uneasily. There it was. Her breathing quickened – she knew this was the part when her testimony actually began. Her stomach rolled. "Um… we had a party in the office for Michael," she said, after a moment. "Jim and I were, were laughing about a prank and Roy got angry."

"He was angry because you were laughing with Jim?" Murphy asked.

"Yes. He said Jim was trying to… to… well, you know. And uh, he sort of came at us fast." Her eyes dropped back to her hands, twisting in her lap.

Someone in the courtroom sneezed. "What did you do when he came at you?" Murphy continued.

Pam had an urge to close her eyes. She could see everything, it was as though that night was playing out in front of her, memories on a stage. Her instinct, even back then had been to put herself in the firing line first. "I got in the middle and I tried to calm Roy down." she said, frowning. "I told him we were just laughing, but he was really mad."

Murphy straightened up, moving back to the other side of her. "You got in the middle – between Roy and Jim? Did you assume they were going to fight?"

"No." she said. "I thought he was going to hit Jim, so I got in the way of that."

"He was s– " Murphy cut off as a fierce snort exploded from Roy. Heads turned to him. Pam looked up herself, but not at Roy. She noticed the Judge, fixing Roy with a hard expression she took as a warning. He would be bristling about that, she mused to herself uncomfortably. She knew the warning signs well.

"Mr Anderson was so angry that you were laughing with Jim you thought he was going to strike him?" Murphy resumed.

"Uh…. yeah." Pam said, momentarily distracted.

"What happened then?" He encouraged.

Pam shook her head. "Roy and I went home."

"Right away?"

"Yes."

"And after you arrived at home, had Mr Anderson calmed down at all?"

She saw the concern in his face. "No." she swallowed hard. "He was still mad. But he didn't say anything in the car, we didn't talk. He was driving really fast and I didn't like it. I asked him to slow down but he wouldn't."

"Pam," Murphy said, and she heard the caution in his voice. "I appreciate this is difficult for you, but would you please describe what happened once you arrived home?"

Her whole body went rigid. Inside herself she fell silent, not finding any words to respond and she only stared with wide nervous eyes at the man. Squirming awkwardly, she roughly pushed her hands into her pockets. Even through the material of her jacket the cold seeped through as they rested against her thighs. They felt like frozen slabs of meat.

That was when her fingers closed around the smooth paper. Blinking, she felt around in her pocket and slid out the photograph. She stared at it in surprise, taking in the meaning of the picture having made its way into her pocket. Slowly her eyes lifted and moved over the front row of people, her family, settling on Jim. He smiled knowingly, a small smile meant for her alone. Understanding passed between the two of them and a small appreciative smile of her own curled the corners of her mouth. She looked at him with awe.

"I don't know what happened." Pam lowered her head. The words came to her. "We went indoors.. Roy was behind me. He closed the door and I turned around to say something, and, and he just… hit me."

Murphy squinted at her. "I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you." he leaned forward. "Would you repeat that for me?"

"He hit me."

"He hit you? If I'm understanding this correctly, you had just come through the front door of your home, and before you had a chance to speak, he hit you?"

"That's right." Pam said. Her voice shook. She could hear the sympathy growing in the attorneys own voice and it threatened to undo her.

Murphy seemed to notice this and adjusted his tone slightly. "Did he hit you with an open hand or a closed fist?"

"He… it was a punch." she said. It sounded far away from her, as though she had become disconnected from her voice.

Murphy glanced around sharply at Roy. "Where on your body did he punch you?"

"Side of my head."

"How many times?"

"Once."

"After he punched you, what happened then? Were you knocked to the ground?"

"Yeah…He.. uh… hadn't ever hit me before. I was so shocked." she said, feeling further and further away from herself. "Yes I was on the ground. It was really…. hazy…...I didn't know what had happened, how long I was on the ground, didn't know what to do or say. I think I said something like 'why, Roy'. He was yelling really loud and…" she shook her head, inhaling heavily through her nose.

Murphy's eyes flashed. "What was he shouting?"

"Something about me and Jim." She glanced solemnly down at the photo in her hand. "I didn't understand and he said that we were laughing at him and making him look like a joke in front of everyone. I remember feeling dizzy when I got up, trying to tell him it was just office pranks and that I was sorry but he kept yelling."

"And then?"

"And then….I tried to move past him to go upstairs. I wanted to go to the bathroom – I wanted to get away from him but he grabbed my arm really, really hard."

"Go on."

She grimaced at the memory. "I remember hitting the wall pretty hard. And…" her breath jumped in her throat, as a half gasp, part sob that, to her, rang out loud enough in the courtroom so that even anyone outside could hear. Her hand shook as she reached for a tissue from the box in front of her.

Murphy allowed her a moment before nudging her for a response. "What did he do then?"

Making a physical effort to keep control of herself, Pam took a mouthful of water. It tasted fishy and old, nearly causing her to gag. The next words brought up another kind of bile in her throat. "Grabbed me by the throat." she said.

"Mr Anderson choked you?" The man was disgusted. He shook his head.

"No.. not then." she said. "He.. uh just h-held me against the wall and – I'm sorry. Sorry." she finished in a whisper.

"It's quite alright, take your time." Murphy said, stepping back to his seat.

"Thank you." Pam nodded, drawing in a breath.

"Okay?" he asked. "Okay, good. If you need to take a break, we'll stop, alright? Alright. So that night, Mr Anderson – Roy –" he stabbed his thumb in Roy's direction. "Punched you, grabbed you, pushed you into a wall and put his hands to your throat and held you there?"

"Yes." Murmurs ran through the gallery. Pam kept her eyes low, her chest rising and falling heavily.

"Can you tell us what happened next?" Murphy's question floated over her.

She let her eyes close a moment. "Nothing. Nothing happened. Roy uh.. said I was to stay away from Jim, he hit the wall next to my head and then he let go."

"What did he do then?"

White-faced and red nosed and eyed, she lifted her head. "He got a beer, turned on the TV and sat on the couch like normal. I..I took a bath and I went to bed." Her voice was sounding further and further away from her, as though it was someone else speaking, and it had taken on a stuffy, nasally tone. "He came up later on. I was still awake. I think I was in shock, I was so numb. I didn't feel anything."

The worried frown that Murphy wore deepened, wrinkling his forehead. "Did he say anything when he came up to bed?"

A shiver rolled over her. That night, and countless others were clear in her memory. On her bed, knees drawn up to her chest, some part of her stinging or throbbing or just outright burning with pain, feeling cold and so alone. How many times? How many injuries? She sniffed. Her eyes were back in her lap. "He said things, things he would say every time. He said he was sorry, he never meant to do it. He said he didn't want me to leave him, because he needed me and it would kill him if I left him. He was sorry it happened but he couldn't help but getting mad when he saw me with Jim."

"Did you think his remorse was genuine?"

"He was crying." she stated simply. "I believed him."

"Did you confide in anyone what had happened?"

Guilt dropped into her stomach like a bowling ball. They were all there in the room, her family, the same question they had all asked her. "No…. I couldn't. I was ashamed that it had happened. I didn't think anyone would understand."

"During the relationship, from this point on, this type of violence became a regular pattern, is that true?"

"Yes."

Murphy looked a little sick. "The violence grew worse as time went on."

"Yes."

"Roy would hit you, er, punch you, push you, leave you with bruises and injuries?"

"He uh.. kicked me, threw things at me." she said, and shuddered. "He'd pull me by my hair. He just seemed to always be mad about something. I didn't even know what for half the time."

"Did Roy ever hit you with anything other than his fists?"

Her blood froze. Mental images swarmed her vision and she found herself breathless. It was like being caught in a trap and she looked to the attorney desperately. "Yeah." It came out a croak. "Yeah. Just sometimes... whatever was nearby."

"He'd get angry and pick up something that was lying around?"

"Yeah." her eyes were swimming.

"What sort of objects did he hit you with?"

"Like..," she said, drawing a heavy breath. "A shoe, a cup, a broom, anything."

The attorney ran a quiet hand over his mouth, contemplating her. "This abusive behavior went on for years. Prior to the week you left him for good, how many times would you estimate you sought medical treatment for injuries you had received?"

"I'm not sure. I remember a lot of times."

"What sort of injuries were you treated for?"

"Uh… broken fingers, toes. Sprains, stitches. Ribs. Muscles. Back pain. Broken wrist." Pam glanced shakily over at her mother, her heart falling to the floor at the sight of the tears on her cheeks. She looked away again.

"And all of these injuries were sustained by Mr Anderson, this man sitting right there?" Murphy said, pointing.

She barely trusted herself to speak. "Yeah." she said. Her voice came out frail, quavery.

"During the-" Murphy was saying, then Pam jolted almost out of her seat at the sound of a loud thud as something struck wood forcefully on her right, a resounding explosion that drove waves of startled terror throughout her body. Frantically she threw her hands to her head and covered her face, horrifying scenarios flooding her mind.

"Goddammit!" Roy yelled. "That is not what happened! Your honor -"

"That's enough Mr Anderson." Judge Summers rebuked sternly, standing up. From behind her hands Pam heard the nasally tones of the defense attorney imploring him to stop yelling. "Sit down, now."

"I was not the one screwing around with him, sitting right over there-"

"Stop." Thorne said, as the bailiffs approached.

"You're a liar, Pam. Nothing but a liar."

"Enough. That's enough!" The judge was losing her patience.

Roy's mom decided to enter the row. "What do you expect, your honor? She's sitting up there and everything she's saying is not the truth, what do-"

There were shouts of protest from both sides of the room, followed by the Judge's ire.

"Quiet!" she hissed. Two bailiffs stood behind Roy, waiting for an order to remove him from the court room. "Mr Anderson," she said firmly. "Control yourself, or you will be removed. Is that understood?"

There was not a sound in the room as Pam slowly lowered her hands, and tentatively looked towards the bench.

"Is that understood, Mr Anderson?" Judge Summers repeated.

"Yes, your honor." Roy said sulkily.

"If there is one word from anyone during the hearing," she now addressed the room. "One word, on either side, you will be removed and you will be arrested. I hope that's clear." Nodding at Murphy, she sat back down primly.

"Pam," Murphy began.

She did not hear him. She was not in the room. Everything in her body had come loose and turned to water. Water was coming down her face and there were waves thrashing in her head, watery fists punching at her brain. She needed to run. She needed to get out of the courtroom, away from Roy and his hands, hands that could squeeze the life out of her, literally. Away from his burning anger before she was set aflame. Her eyes closed, wet lashes clumping together. Rough fingers were around her neck, crushing her windpipe, cutting off her oxygen. No one was going to save her, no one could.

Somewhere on the other side of the sea around her Murphy was calling for a break. There were voices talking through the waves but she couldn't reach out to them, couldn't say a word, she couldn't breathe.

Then, as everything grew dim around her, the hands clutching her throat softened and melted away and suddenly they were arms, warm, comforting arms that wrapped around her whole body and she felt the cool relief of oxygen flowing into her. Carefully her eyes began to open again and the courtroom began to focus. Murphy's concerned face just in front of her. Her mom, dad, both looking stricken, unable to take their eyes off of her. Penny, her head pressed into their fathers chest, her shoulders quivering, Betsy whispering to Helene, her hand resting comfortingly on the womans forearm.

And Jim, standing, prepared to come to her as he always was. The ghost memory of being held against his chest wrapped around her, of his hug outside the conference room that had stayed with her.

And then she understood. Memories were powerful things, her bad memories dragged her to the darkest places, but her good memories held so much more strength – the good feelings would win in the end. She felt the photo in her pocket again – the photo that had become more than a picture, had become a totem between her and Jim, past present and future.

"Pam," Murphy brought her back. "Let's take a break, okay?"

Wordlessly, she stood and allowed the man to lead her back to the conference room to prepare herself to get the rest of it over with.


You must login (register) to review or leave jellybeans