The Trials of We

Eleven pairs of eyes stared at me. Some angry, some resigned. All tired. I met each pair. Their right hands were raised in unison, tall trees of judgment with angry, tired limbs. They looked at my hands, rested firmly on the table, and finally lowered theirs.

I looked at Janet, to my left. She was the most agreeable, but my stubbornness had tested the limits of her charity. Her mouth twitched in aggravation. As she lowered her hand, she bumped elbows with Tracey. His dark skin was a stark contrast to the creamy whites and light browns in the room. He was the foreman, and he wore the title well. A known and respected small business owner himself, the other jurors were inclined to follow his lead. Though there were twelve of us, Janet and Tracey were the two I needed most. But their patience was wearing thin. This was our third vote in as many days.

Well, our third vote today.

We were tired. Tired of passing through metal detectors, tired of eating takeout, tired of sitting in chairs, tired of arguing. The boy was guilty. Everyone said so. At first, even I had fallen for the neatly packaged tale spun by the prosecutor. A store was robbed at gunpoint by a hooded, black figure. The owner was killed. The boy lived nearby and was seen with the same color hoodie. He had a history of petty theft. He’d argued that same day with the store owner over the price of… what was it again? I could never remember.

Tracey rubbed his temples. “It looks like we have a hung jury. If we can’t agree, we’ve got to call it.”

“Wait!”

Tracey’s eyes were weary, but he hadn’t given up entirely. He was willing to indulge me one more time. That’s what I told myself, anyway.

“Let’s go over everything one more time…” My suggestion was met with a flurry of expletives.

“Enough!” Jerry grumbled. “We’ve been over every scrap of evidence a hundred times already! What’s left to look at?”

“There are holes in the story on both sides. They never found the murder weapon. The boy had traces of GSR on his hands, but he claimed he never touched a gun. The owner was shot at close range, but there were no traces of blood on the boy’s hoodie.”

“The boy was caught lying twice during his testimony!” Jerry wasn’t enthusiastic at all about my idea. It stung a little, but I pressed on.

“Okay, let’s talk about that. The first lie was about where he was that day. On the police report he originally told them he was at home during the time of the shooting, but during his testimony on the stand, he said he was at his girlfriend’s house.”

“Which is five miles further. How convenient.”

Jerry again.

“Okay. So he either lied or misspoke.”

“He lied!”

I really wished Jerry would shut it.

“Okay, Jerry. Thanks. If he lied, why did he lie?”

“Because if he was at his girlfriend’s house, he couldn’t have been at the store when the owner was shot.”

Jerry was killing me.

“Maybe. But according to his testimony on the stand, his grandmother was with him during the first interrogation.”

“So what?”

“You don’t think that made a difference?”

“No. And what about the GSR?”

“I was going to talk about that next. Where are the reports?”

“Here.” Janet handed me the reports. Her eye was twitching now. I started reading the report out loud. Bad move. I lost them three minutes in. Foreman Tracey finally called it at minute seven.

“Let’s take a break, everyone. Take a walk, order some dinner, then put it to one final vote. If we can’t all agree, we’re a hung jury.”

“But that doesn’t help the boy, that just means a new trial.”

Tracey shrugged. “Everyone okay with Chinese?”

I watched them all scatter. Eleven tired bodies. They were ready to go home. The holes didn’t matter to them. Going back to their lives mattered. It wasn’t about the boy anymore, or the store owner. But maybe it never was. We were all looking at the trial through the lens of our own experiences, our own values. I had to appeal to that. Facts weren’t enough. I needed to engage their feelings. I looked at Janet and Tracey. If I could somehow convince those two that the boy was innocent, the others would follow. Tracey was a tough nut to crack.

I started with Janet first.

“Hey Janet! Love your shoes!” I thought it was a great opening, but Janet saw right through it.

“He’s guilty, and I want to go home. Also, thanks. They are nice shoes.”

“Okay, Janet. You caught me. But listen-”

“No, I don’t want to listen! I want to go home! We’ve been at this for three days! I miss my husband and my kids and my comfy couch!”

“Of course. You’ve got two kids, right? Ages seven and… thirteen months?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Janet gave a little smile as she pulled out her phone. “My husband sent me this while we were voting. See her little tooth?”

“Man, that’s something.” All I saw was drool. Gross, gross, gross. I had one shot at this, though. “And the seven-year-old? That’s Brunson, right?”

“Named after my dad. He passed away when I was a teenager.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. How did he die?”

“Cancer.”

“That really sucks.”

“It was awful. God, I was a wreck. I don’t know how my mom put up with me during those days. I don’t know how she survived most of my teenage years. I have no idea what I’m gonna do when Brunson is a teenager. I don’t want to think about it. He’s such a sweet kid. I hope he never changes.”

“He’s adorable. And you seem like you turned out okay.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Must have been tough, losing your dad, being raised with one parent?”

“Well, my mom remarried about a year later.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I hated her for that. And I made sure she knew. But I was just a dumb kid, you know?”

I nodded, seeing my opening. “So it’s safe to say you weren’t a saint as a teenager?”

She laughed. “Not even close!”

I shrugged. “I guess, in a way, you can relate to the boy. Except, he lost both of his parents and was living with his grandmother.”

“I never killed anybody!”

“Ever… shoplift?”

Janet shrugged. “Once or twice.”

“Were you ever caught? Arrested? Sent to juvie?”

“Once I was caught, but they gave me a warning.”

Time to dig in.

“Listen, Janet. I know you’re tired and ready to be home with Brunson, but try to imagine, for a few moments, that our suspect was your son. That twelve really tired people held his life in their hands. Twelve strangers who don’t know him like you do, don’t understand him like you do, who make snap judgments about him without knowing much about him. He’s a dumb kid with no parents who’s made some mistakes. Maybe he did this. But what if he didn’t? If he’s found guilty, they are going to put him away for the rest of his life. The least we can do is make sure we’ve looked at all the evidence, at all the facts, and come to no other conclusion than that he’s guilty.”

I shrugged and walked away quickly. Janet didn’t follow me, but I didn’t think she would. I needed to talk to Tracey next. He was checking with the deputy about our food delivery. He saw me coming and he frowned. It stung a little.

“Food should be here in ten. But I’m guessing you aren’t looking for food?”

“You caught me. You’re a smart man, Tracey. You like to read?”

“Sure do.”

“What kind of books?”

“A little of everything, but I love biographies and histories.”

“I’m a history buff myself. Do you remember the Central Park 5? The boys who were falsely accused of raping a woman in Central Park?”

“Pretty hard to forget. Why do you bring it up?” I was on thin ice. So I skated a little further out.

“Well, I was recently reading up on Matias Reyes. Do you know who that is?”

“Name sounds familiar.”

“Matias Reyes was the man who confessed to the woman’s rape.”

“Oh yeah. I remember now.”

“Do you know how many other women he attacked?”

Tracey raised his eyebrows. “No. Should I?”

“He attacked nine women total. Five of them were attacked after the Central Park jogger. One of them was murdered.” Tracey’s wheels were turning. I was pretty sure I heard them.

“You know -probably better than most of us - that bias and cultural differences make it harder for people like this kid to get a fair shake. I saw your face when we were talking about how he lied on the stand. Jerry doesn’t understand why he’d lie in front of his grandmother about where he was that night, but you understood where he was coming from.”

“Doesn’t make it right. He shouldn’t have lied to the police.”

“So he’s a liar. That doesn’t make him a murderer. And if he didn’t do this, that means the person who did is still out there. You live in this community. You have a small business. What happened here shouldn’t have happened. But if we’ve got the wrong guy, odds are it’s gonna happen again. What if the next time it’s you?” Tracey sighed, but he didn’t walk away.

“Why do you think he’s innocent?”

“The surveillance tape. I just can’t see how he shot the owner from that close without getting a single trace of blood on his clothes.” My phone buzzed and I checked my messages. I smiled. “And this.” I showed Tracey the message.

He glanced at it, then at me.

“What am I looking at here?”

“I asked a buddy of mine to find out what causes GSR residue other than guns.”

“Okay…?”

“Do you remember what the kid said he was doing at his girlfriend’s house that night?”

Tracey sighed again, but he indulged me.

“Setting off fireworks.”

“Take a look at the list again. What do you see on that list?”

“Fireworks…” Tracey rubbed his chin. “Hey, that’s what the kid and the store owner were arguing about. The price of fireworks.”

Oh yeah.

“Exactly! So the kid wants to set off some fireworks. He goes to the store, but they’re too expensive there. He complains about it, he and the store owner get into a screaming match, whatever. He leaves, comes back an hour later, demands money, shoots the guy and… doesn’t take a single firework with him?”

“He could have been lying about the fireworks.”

“He is a liar. But I don’t think he was lying about that.”

“But we have no proof, other than his testimony.”

“And the GSR. That could have come from the fireworks.”

“Or the murder weapon.”

“…or the fireworks.”

I shrugged and walked away. Our food came and we sat down to eat. Janet fiddled with her fork for a while before clearing her throat.

“Before we take another vote, I think we should look at all the evidence again.” She got a few stares, but nobody swore at her. Everybody liked Janet. They saved their swears for me. That stung a little, but I tried not to let it show. Jerry shot daggers my way. I used them to cut my kung pao chicken.

“What could we have possibly missed?” Jerry asked.

Tracey took that as an opening.

“We missed a few things, Jerry.” Tracey looked at me. “And we’re not leaving this room until we get them sorted out.”

I nodded in thanks.

Time to dig in.