Come Christmas Steve
Chapter 34
It Begins
I lay in bed until early morning thinking about my life. I remembered a story I'd shared with Steve at Valentine's Day. I'd written a valentine to Julie Mangelsohn and shared my crush on her. She'd showed it to her friends and they shared it with some of "cool group" of guys. That's when the teasing began.
One day, they shoved me into the girl's bathroom after Julie ran in there and then held the door shut until a teacher came around the corner. The teacher believed Julie, who claimed I'd chased her in there and had been bothering her. All the boys denied shoving me in. None of it was true, but I got three days detention after school for it. Plus, I got extra chores at home. I was the innocent victim. No one cared.
I remembered the time Billy had been riding my bike and then left it at the foot of the porch steps where our brother, Karl, tripped over it and injured his back. I was still being blamed for that. I was innocent. No one cared.
I recalled several other times I'd been punished for other people's sins and for things I'd never done but got blamed for. When I had that thought, I was suddenly overwhelmed with a spiritual revelation. Tingles reverberated through my whole frame. "This is a small taste of what Christ felt" spoke an inaudible voice to my heart and mind. I thought about Pastor Nichols' sermon on the subject the week before my arrest. I wished Pastor Nichols was available to talk to. I needed input from someone like him.
I wanted to talk with my dad too. He was so insightful about things and I'd gotten over my bad feelings I'd foolishly had for him all those teen years. But there was no one to seek help from. This was all on me. I was alone, just like Christ had been. On the cross, he even cried out to his Father asking why he'd forsaken him. That made me sad.
"Don't leave me alone. Send me some help. I need some help," I implored.
The next morning after breakfast was over, I was taken to the visitor area. I was glad Adam was early and I could get it over with. When I walked into the visitation room, I was speechless. It wasn't Adam.
"Hello Shane," Pastor Nichols said. "How are you holding up?"
"Fine, I guess. What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I'm not sure. I was hoping you could tell me. I was awakened shortly after I fell asleep last night and could not get you out of my mind. I felt strongly like I needed to come see you. I got in the car and drove all night. So you tell me, why am I here?"
I started to tear up. "You are so kind. Thank you. I guess I prayed you here."
He just smiled compassionately and put his hand on my arm.
I haltingly began. I recounted my choices and my conversations with D.D. and told him how unfair it all was that I had to make such a choice. I told him I'd decided to take the eight years and wanted a confirmation that it was the right thing to do. I told him how I hadn't felt any peace with the decision and how I couldn't stop thinking about his sermon on Christ. "Christ could have recounted being the Son of God and saved himself, or at least avoided crucifixion. But he didn't. He was innocent. I'm innocent. I don't want to cave but if I don't, I could lose at trial and spend most of my whole life in prison and maybe even get raped and beaten or even murdered," I said. "What should I do, Pastor?"
"I cannot make that decision for you. If you have prayed and feel confirmed in your decision, then follow that," he said. "I can tell you that no earthly judge can impose any sentence on you that matters in the eternal scope of things. God knows your heart. You and God know your guilt or innocence. No one else really can. I believe in your innocence, Shane. But innocent people suffer all the time. Unfairly. Christ is the prime example of that. We all go through our trials but it's not what happens to us in this life that matters. How we deal with those trials is what matters. The experience refines us, makes us harder and stronger. This is a great trial you have been called on to endure. I can't tell you why, though I'm sure you've asked God that question many times. Whatever you do, don't let it turn you away from your faith in God. Let it strengthen you in it. Christ loves you. Rely on Him."
I thanked him for his words. We talked on for a long time and I shared all my fears and asked for his blessing that I could be strong and face whatever was coming my way. He promised to take messages to my parents about how much I loved them and ensure them I was innocent, even if I took the deal. He also promised to write to Steve for me and let him know what was happening. He prayed for me and I felt the power of God's love overwhelm me as he did. A rush of warmth coursed through my body. He held me and I cried one last time like a small boy. He cried with me. I composed myself as best I could and shuffled back to the cell.
D.D. asked if I was okay. I said I was but wanted to be alone with my thoughts. He respected that. I climbed down and went over to the celly with the good voice. "Can you sing that song again? The one you sang earlier?"
"Innocent man?" he asked.
"Yeah, that one. Who's it by?"
"Billy Joel," he said. Then he began. The last three verses overwhelmed me.
Some people run from a possible fight Some people figure they can never win And although this is a fight I can lose The accused is an innocent man Oh yes I am An innocent man
You know you only hurt yourself out of spite I guess you'd rather be a martyr tonight That's your decision But I'm not below Anybody I know If there's a chance of resurrecting a love I'm not above going back to the start To find out where the heartache began
Some people hope for a miracle cure Some people just accept the world as it is But I'm not willing to lay down and die Because I am an innocent man
I am an innocent man Oh yes I am An innocent man
"Thanks," I said when he finished. He smiled.
When the time came that afternoon to meet with Adam and share my decision, I had a heavy heart. I was walking to my own Garden of Gethsemane and I had my own cup to drink. Not like the Savior's by any means, but bitter enough for a simple mortal like me.
Adam was seated at the desk with a legal document spread out on it. He looked up at me as I was escorted in. "You don't look so good. You been getting any sleep?"
"Not much," I admitted. "This decision has been keeping me up nights."
"Understandable. Sit down. This is the plea agreement. I can go over it in detail or I can summarize it for you," Adam said.
"Just summarize it," I answered while sitting down.
"Good. The bargain is for eight years at FCI Englewood in Colorado. It is a low security prison, not like where Steve and Todd are, but definitely better than a standard medium or high security facility. They have a SOMP program there," Adam began.
I broke in, "Sex Offender Management Program."
"Yes. How did you know that?" Adam asked.
"My celly educated me on some things. Including on how to stay alive as an SO or chomo in the house," I answered.
"I see. Was it educational?" Adam asked.
"Very," I confirmed.
"How much do you know about it?" Adam asked.
"I know that if you are a sex offender and get sent to one of the ten places that have one of these programs, there's a lot higher percentage of sex offenders in the prison population so the guards are pretty used to dealing with SO's, which makes it sort of safer," I answered.
"That's right. There are no guarantees that something bad won't happen, but the odds are definitely better than another prison."
"My celly also said that if you participate in that program, you can get some time off your sentence. Is that true?" I asked.
"Normally, yes. In your case, no. It is a stipulation in this plea that you will not be eligible for parole, or any early release. You have to do all eight. Sorry," Adam replied. My heart sank. I'd been hoping for that time off thing to be true.
"What are my chances, if I fight this thing and lose, that I could still get sent to one of these ten places that have a SOMP?" I asked.
"It could happen. More and more, they are trying to do that. The problem is that the SO population is exploding with all the pornography convictions these days, so they are horribly overcrowded. Englewood is rated for 1151 prisoners and today it houses 1149. You will make 1150. See the issue?"
"Yeah. So it's possible, just not guaranteed?" I asked.
"Yes. But that's a sizable risk. Did your celly educate you on what happens if you don't go to one of these types of facilities?" Adam asked.
"Definitely. He made it crystal clear. It's pretty sickening," I said. "He even included an object lesson."
"What does that mean?" Adam asked.
"It means that after bed check, he forcibly stripped my clothing off me and pulled me to the bed where he prepared to fuck me. He said it was tuition payment for the education he'd given me. But he didn't really do it. He just wanted to show me how it happens. He just wanted to scare me."
"Good," Adam said.
"Good?" I asked.
"Yes. Good that he educated you and good that he scared you. You need to be scared. It's for real, Shane."
"Oh. I think I know that by now. You've told me enough fucking times! I just can't get over how unfair it all is," I grumbled.
"I know. It is unfair. I want to fight it too, but I can't in good conscience recommend it any more. I don't think we can win with what we've got," Adam counseled. "Any more questions?"
"Can people visit me there?" I asked.
"Of course. And that's why I wanted Englewood. It's the closest option to your parents," Adam explained.
"That's good. Pastor Nichols came to see me this morning," I said.
"I know. I had to give permission for him to get in," Adam told me. "Was it good for you to see him?"
"Yes. It was. I needed it. We talked about how bad things can happen to good and innocent people. He likened it to what Christ went through. Falsely accused and lied about. I could tell that he agreed I should probably take the plea deal and accept my fate. He said I may come out a better person from it all somehow."
"I agree with him," Adam said.
"What about the sex offender list? Will I be put on that after I get out?" I asked.
"Yes. Not negotiable. The hair brush rape and posting of it on the internet aspect of Colt's case is insurmountable for keeping you off the list. I'm sorry. But only for ten years if you behave yourself."
"Steve said that's like a life sentence. You can't live anywhere because of children and schools and, and, and. You can't get a job. You have that stigma wherever you go," I said. "A modern day leper."
"That's true. But it's better than being dead."
"Is it?" I pondered.
"To me it would be," Adam answered.
"Okay, where do I sign?" I asked picking up Adam's expensive pen.
"Right here," Adam pointed.
"By the way, it doesn't really matter now, but I did remember something about Colt when he was naked in my room. He had a small scab just above his penis. He was rubbing it when I was yelling at him."
"I know that. At least, I knew it was there. It was in the doctor's report. Odd that he was touching it. But yes, it is a moot point since you are taking the plea."
I reached down to sign and there was a small black dot where I was about to begin my signature. I paused and it moved. A small black mite scurried left then right, uncertain how to escape the looming risk of my pen stroke. I pulled back.
Adam saw and reached out with his index finger to squish the tiny bug for me. I dropped the pen and grasped his wrist, staying his hand. "Why are you going to kill it? What great crime did it commit to be worthy of execution?" I snapped.
Adam pulled his hand back and stammered. "Nothing, I suppose. I just thought ..."
"You just thought it was a tiny bug, not useful and unimportant and it was just in our way. Kind of like me. You know what? I may be just a useless mite to everyone. But I'm a mighty mite. I'm not going to give up without a fight. I'm not signing this! If I lose and go to some hellish prison then so be it! At least I go with my honor and courage intact. Fuck them! Fuck them all! I didn't do it. I'm not going to say I did. I am an innocent man. Oh yes, I am. I am an innocent man!" I leaned down and lifted the document slightly and blew the little mite off the paper and onto the table. Then I took the papers in my hands and ripped them in half. "Tell them no fucking deal. And, I want to testify."
Adam looked heartsick. "Shane, don't overreact. You're emotional. Don't make an emotional and rash decision here. You had a rational decision made when you came in the room. I'm sorry I triggered your raw emotions with the bug, but that's not a reason to throw away this deal. The alternative is very, very bad. Please calm down and reconsider. I can have a new document drawn up. Please take the deal," Adam begged.
"No. No, I'm not going to," I answered. "No way. I'm innocent. Final answer." A rush of warmth reverberated through my body when I said that and the inaudible words came to my mind, "Trust in me, Shane. Trust in me."
It was Him. It was His voice. It was God or Christ or an angel from God or whoever had been speaking to me in my head and it filled me with peace. Real peace. The kind of peace that made you free even within the walls of a prison.
I pushed my chair back, "No, Adam. I'm fighting this. Do your best, but if we lose, it's not on you. It's on me. I know that you have been doing all you can and will continue to do your best to free me. I know the cards are stacked against me, but I have to fight this. I will take whatever comes and deal with it. I don't want the plea deal. I want freedom. I want justice. I want the truth. The truth will make me free, Adam. Only the truth will make me free. And if it doesn't, at least I will know the truth and God will know the truth and that will keep me free even if they lock me up, beat the shit out of me every single day, rape my ass, and even if they kill me. I'll die in innocence, just like Christ."
"You're not Christ. This is not rational. Please, Shane. Don't throw away this chance for a deal," Adam implored once more.
"No!"
Adam sighed. "All right. I'll push for a trial date. May as well get this carnage over with. I just want to make absolutely sure that you realize there is no going back. This decision is final when I walk out of here."
"I know that. Fight it," I said firmly, confidently. I felt peace. I felt good. I felt liberated.
Adam sighed, gathered up the torn document and his pen and left without another word. He was upset. I think he was worried about losing and he didn't want to lose. I think he didn't want to lose because he was a competitor but also because he had grown fond of me. I was fond of him. I had to let him know that I would not hold him accountable if we lost. It was my folly for not taking his deal. And it would be me living with the consequences.
When I got back in my cell, D.D. wanted an update. "I rejected the deal," I said. "I'm fighting it."
"You gonna regret that, bumpkin. Least you can't say ol' D.D. didn't warn you. Better try and score some kind of lubricant early on when you arrive at the house, cuz your pink ass is gonna get jack-hammered."
"No shit!" One of the other celly's said. "You'll be drinking your dinner from a straw and shitting your pants from your stretched-out boy pussy in the first two weeks. You're in for a long dance with the devil kid. A long, slow dance. Not that I give a shit, really. All you chomo's should have your balls nailed to the floor and handed a dull knife as far as I'm concerned."
I didn't respond. There was no need to. I knew I was probably in for it. Just like Christ knew. I understood then, why Christ hadn't responded to his accusers. Why should he? He was in the right. He was innocent. I was in the right. I was innocent. I knew it and God knew it, but nothing I could say would convince the haters otherwise, so why bother?
The next week was nerve wracking. Then one morning, a staffer showed up with a grey dress suit for me to put on. My teacher, D.D., had already left a few days earlier to start his fiver. He wished me luck and said I'd need it as he'd left. He whistled a happy tune on his way out. I dressed in my suit and was soon escorted off to the shuttle.
I waited most of the morning in the holding cell at the courthouse. I was starving by the time they came for me around 11:30. I was ushered in to meet the judge and start the process. I was nervous, but at peace at the same time. "Whatever will be will be," I whispered to myself. "Trust. Trust."
"So, we couldn't come to an agreement, I see," the judge said right off the bat. "Disappointing. Well, let's see what you've got, Mr. Thompson."
The federal prosecutor stood and outlined the various charges against me. He started with little Daniel's case from Yellowstone. He laid out the evidence. There was hotel security video footage, photos of the hotel room, hall and bathroom being presented as evidence. The desk clerk, Daniel's mother, Wesley Jensen from the dorms, Whittaker, and Steve were all identified as intended witnesses against me. I was confused by that. "Why is he using Whittaker and Steve for his side?" I whispered to Adam. Adam just pressed a finger to his lips to shush me.
Daniel's original video deposition was then given to the judge to watch. Before Adam had a chance to share that Daniel had been coached, the prosecutor just laid it all out there, knowing it would come out anyway. He then suggested a revised deposition video be done with the attorneys asking the questions instead of psychologists. I looked at Adam and he scribbled a note. "I proposed that change," he wrote. I nodded. It seemed like a better idea to me also.
The judge asked Adam's opinion on that and Adam agreed to it, subject to a stipulation that if the parents were allowed to attend, that they had to be out of the line of sight of Daniel during questioning. That was agreed to and a tentative date was set for that to take place.
"Your honor, based on our review of the evidence and in light of the bad behavior of the state prosecutor's expert, the government is dropping all charges related to the alleged molestation of Daniel Taylor." I looked over at Adam but he didn't even flinch. He must have expected it. I almost cheered. Then I remembered to keep my courtroom face on and did my best not to smile.
"However," he continued, "we will continue to pursue the indecent exposure charge with the special circumstance of a minor child victim." The urge to smile quickly left me. Still that was something positive to hold onto. It explained why they still wanted to do another deposition with Daniel.
"Moving on to the Colt Withers portion of the case," the prosecutor said, "I have produced a long list of evidence and witnesses." He handed the judge and Adam a copy. Adam flipped through it and I looked over at it while he did. I was surprised to see how many people were listed. A bunch of them were people I barely knew. I was actually glad to see Agent Caprino from the FBI included. He'd always seemed to be on my side. Some of them had stars by their names. I wondered why. The evidence list was also interesting. The underwear, Jaime's phone and phone records, computers and images of Colt, the brush and lotion bottle were among the list of physical evidence. Shockingly, they were also trying to include the infamous flash drive from the Uncle Arty case and some images off of that. I couldn't see any relevance to that at all.
"Anything else?" the judge asked the federal prosecutor.
"No sir," he responded.
"Mr. Christopherson, are you planning on bringing witnesses or evidence to the preliminary?"
"Not currently, your honor. I do reserve the right to modify that as the proceedings unfold, however," Adam said.
"Noted and approved," answered the judge. Looking at his schedule, he penciled in a date. "We'll get started with the witnesses and evidence for the preliminary hearing on September 25th. That work for everyone?" Both attorney's responded that it did. It was not even a week away. I was glad.
"Good. This will be a closed hearing because of the age of the victims. Only the children's guardians will be allowed in the gallery. No media. I mean it. I will not tolerate leaks and I will punish you severely if one is linked to you. Understood?" he asked. Both attorneys confirmed that they got the message.
"Your honor," Adam began. "Being respectful of your desire to keep the proceedings closed, which we support, my client would like to request a single exception to that. He would like to have his parents present at the proceedings."
"I wouldn't be opposed to that," the judge responded, "Mr. Thompson, do you have any objection to this request?"
The prosecutor paused, considering the question. I had the sense he wasn't in favor of it, but didn't want to oppose the judge on a seemingly small matter. Finally, he responded, "No, your honor. No objection."
"Good. Mr. Thompson, I trust you won't need too much time in the preliminary phase to accomplish your objectives. Do you think you can hold it to one full day?" the judge asked the prosecutor.
"Certainly sir. My preference as well,"
"Mr. Christopherson, anything you want to add?" the judge asked Adam.
"No sir," he responded.
The judge rapped his gavel and said "Dismissed." Turning to his clerk, he asked, "What's next?"
Adam and I went to a consultation room and he filled me in on what the preliminary hearing was all about. He explained that the primary purpose was to establish that there was sufficient evidence to support the charges. It was almost always found to be the case. Only rarely did something get eliminated or reduced, but that did happen on occasion. Usually it's the judge who modifies it, but in my case, the prosecutor had already reduced the charges against me regarding Daniel.
"Don't be worried if I don't participate much in the preliminary hearing next week. Nothing I say or do is going to have much bearing on whether or not you're charged and bound over for trial. So there's no advantage in giving away my arguments to the prosecution. I'll wait for trial. It's an advantage for me to hear what their witnesses say. If I want some clarification on something, I may ask a few questions, but mostly, I'll just listen and take notes," Adam explained.
"Okay," I said. "I'm glad it's moving along finally."
"I'm not sure you should be in such a hurry. If the outcome isn't favorable, you'll wish you were back in the holding facility, I fear," Adam said bluntly. His words dropped my mood considerably.
The weekend passed and before I knew it, I was dressing in my new suit again and heading back for my preliminary. It was the same players. The proceedings started off with playing of the video deposition of little Daniel. It was handled much better than before. The prosecutor tried to get Daniel to say he was shocked or frightened by seeing me naked. He also asked if I tried to touch him or asked him to touch me. Daniel never gave him any ammunition except to say that I never covered myself or tried to hide my pee-pee from him.
Adam had done a masterful job of getting Daniel to tell him that he didn't really think about any of it and had mostly forgotten about it ever happening. He was his normal, cheery self again. Adam got Daniel say that I had never touched his pee-pee or his bottom. It seemed like a forgone conclusion that the Daniel matter would go away completely. The prosecutor dwelt a lot of the time on the sleigh ride and how I had sat next to him and had started caroling and how Daniel liked that. Adam just ignored all of that part. It made no sense.
I thought how ironic it was that I wouldn't even have been in the whole mess except for that innocent act of kindness and now that would get tossed out only to put me still at risk on the Colt issue.
They also showed the security camera footage of me in the hallway, and at the front desk. It showed me jumping the counter and taking the Taylor's key and then slipping into the Taylor's room again to retrieve my sex bag and return Mr. Taylor's clothing. Then, I am seen going back into my room and emerging shortly after to go back down to the party, fully dressed.
"Anything else on this charge?" the judge asked.
"No your honor. That is sufficient for now," the prosecutor responded.
"Anything from you, Mr. Christopherson?" the judge asked.
"No your honor," Adam responded.
Then came the Colt Withers assault portion of the hearing.
Colt took the stand and looked over at his mom and dad who were sitting in the front row of the gallery. My parents were sitting on the opposite side behind our table and it did my heart immense good to see them. I wished I could have hugged them and spoken with them. But, just seeing them and seeing the love and support in their eyes was a great comfort. They were the only spectators due to the closed nature of the hearing. Colt was spit shined with his snap up, white, cowboy shirt and cowboy tie. He had on a pair of Wrangler dress pants and his dress boots. He looked as cute and vulnerable as they could possibly make him appear.
"Colt," the prosecutor began, "Tell us in your own words how you met Shane Steele."
"Well, umm," he began softly, teeming with childlike innocence. "It was in a gas station bathroom on our way back from a rodeo. He needed to use the bathroom and he was waiting in there for me to finish up because there was only one spot and my brother was in the stall part."
He went on and told about how he had recognized me from the TV news. He said he gave me his number because I had asked for it, which was not true. I had not asked for it. He'd begged me to take it and call him so he could ask me more questions. I struggled to keep my courtroom face on.
He spoke in a demure, childlike manner how I had called him on Jaime's phone and said that I wanted to see him. He claimed that I told him that I was calling from my brother's girlfriend's phone but not to call back on Jaime's phone because his dad got assigned to protect my family. That part was sort of confusing, but the prosecutor swept past it. That's when he claimed I started using notes posted to a telephone pole down the street from his house when I wanted to meet up. He claimed we met at the big oak tree out by the canal multiple times. He couldn't say exactly how many.
"What did you do there at the big oak tree?" the prosecutor asked.
"We went in the bushes nearby and talked at first. I wanted to know how a guy could tell if he was gay or not," he said blushing since he had spoken that in front of his mother and father.
"Are you gay, Colt?" the prosecutor asked.
"No sir. I just got confused because of the things Shane told me and what he did to me."
"Like what?" the prosecutor queried.
"Like in the bathroom when we first met, Shane asked why I stared at him when he was going pee. There wasn't a wall or anything between the urinal and the sink so I could see him and he turned towards me a little so I could look at it better."
"At his penis, you mean?" the prosecutor clarified.
"Yes sir. I was just curious. I hadn't seen a grownup's before. So I was looking at it. And I told him I was just curious. He said that meant I might be gay since I was so interested. He said there were other ways to tell - like if I ever wondered what my friends at school might look like naked. And I had wondered that sometimes so I got worried. But, now I know I'm really not gay."
"And how did you figure that out?"
"By talking to my counselor," Colt lied.
"What sort of things did you and Shane talk about by the big oak tree when you met up?" the prosecutor continued.
"More about how to tell if I was gay or not," he answered. "Then Shane said we should do some experiments to see if I really was."
"What kind of experiments?"
"He said that he needed to see my penis and at first I didn't want him to see it, but he said I needed show him for the experiments and besides, he'd already seen it in the bathroom when I was going pee. So I let him pull my pants down and look."
Colt put his head down and pretended to be ashamed. With some coaxing, which seemed a little coached to me, Colt went on to describe how I gradually got him to masturbate and described a gradual progression of sex acts I encouraged him to perform, including things I supposedly got him to perform on me.
Colt claimed I had given him money and made him promise not to tell anyone what we were doing. He said I took pictures of him naked and doing sex things. He said that I had promised to get him some condoms because he wanted to show them off at the rodeo events like some of the older guys did to look cool and tough.
I couldn't resist any longer and I shook my head slowly in protest of his lies. Adam reached down and gave my thigh a warning squeeze against doing that. I stopped. Inside I wanted to scream out, "LIAR!" He was a fairly skillful liar, which I knew from the time he came to my house and pretended he was there to get back some things I'd supposedly borrowed from his brother.
The last bit of his testimony was about the fateful Saturday that I had allegedly lured him with a note on the telephone pole to my house with no one home. He told how I'd made him pose for pictures that I posted on the internet and then assaulted him with the brush among other horrible things. Both mothers gasped slightly at his description. It was graphic and gut wrenching. Colt actually summoned tears as he told it.
When the prosecutor was done, Adam stood and walked over to Colt after getting permission from the judge. "I'm sure this must be hard for you. I'm sorry that I have to ask you a few more questions and then you can be done for today," Adam said kindly.
"Okay," Colt sniffed.
"You testified that all of your meetings with Shane were near the big oak tree on the Steele's property, near the canal. Is that correct?"
"Yes sir."
"Why did you go there to meet with him? What was it that you wanted from him?"
"I wanted to know if I was gay or not?"
"And you thought Shane could help you figure that out?" Adam asked in a fatherly tone.
"Well, yeah. He's gay so I thought he would know about that stuff."
"Why didn't you just ask your dad? Wouldn't that have been better?"
"No. I couldn't ask him."
"Why not? Don't you get along?"
"No. I mean, we get along. I just, we don't talk much and he gets mad easy. He doesn't like gay guys and he might not like me asking about that kind of stuff, so that's why I wanted to talk to Shane instead."
"Was Shane willing to help you?"
"He said he was. But then he mostly wanted to do sex stuff with me."
"And you didn't want to do that?"
"No sir."
"So you started meeting at the big oak tree and you started doing sex things together. How often did you meet up and how long did you spend there when you did?"
"Once or twice a week, I guess. It was like an hour. I didn't want to be gone too long so my mom wouldn't worry about where I was or get suspicious."
"If the sex activities upset you so much, why did you keep going back for more?" Adam asked. Colt shrugged and paused. He looked over at the prosecutor and then at his father who shrugged slightly. Then he answered, "I don't know. I just did."
"You don't know, or you don't want to say?" Adam pressed.
"I don't know."
"Is that the only place these sex activities took place?" Adam asked.
"Yes sir."
"Did you ever meet up with Shane for any other reason, besides to do sex things or talk about sex?"
"No sir."
"Did you ever do anything with him at your house?" Adam asked.
"No way!" Colt blurted.
"What about his house? Did you ever go into his house for sex or for any other reason before that Saturday when Shane was arrested?"
"No sir. Never."
"So then, the first time you were ever in Shane's house was on that Saturday when he was arrested?" Colt looked at his father again, who nodded slightly, "Yes sir," Colt answered.
"Thank you, Colt. That's all."
I couldn't believe that was it. Colt had just made me out to be a dangerous, disgusting, horrible pedophile and Adam had treated him like a legitimate victim instead of the complete liar he was. I struggled to keep my courtroom composure.
"Anything else, Mr. Thompson?"
"No, your honor. I think that is sufficient."
"Mr. Christopherson?" the judge asked towards Adam.
"No your honor. Not at this phase," Adam said flatly.
"Very well then. Based on the evidence presented, I find adequate cause to proceed to trial. Please meet with my clerk and block out time for a trial. We'll block out two weeks, which should be more than sufficient."
Both attorneys agreed and the judge signed some documents, rapped the gavel, stood and left.
"He's lying through his teeth. None of that is true. None of it," I said loud enough for everyone to hear even though I meant it to be whispered.
"Shut-up!" Adam whispered sternly. I cowered but I was still seething. I turned to see my mother, tears in her eyes and a hand over her mouth. I was heartbroken and I wondered if I'd made a mistake in asking Adam to get the judge to allow my parents to be there.
I turned and caught Colt's eye and he recoiled and jerked his eyes away, clinging like a small, frightened child to his mother. I wanted to hate him, but I couldn't do it. I pitied him.
"Consultation room three," Adam spoke to the bailiff who gripped my bicep and led me off. I waited half an hour before Adam came in.
"Listen to me, Shane," he growled. "If you want me to represent you, then you will behave in court. You will not speak above a whisper that only I can hear. You will not react to any testimony by rolling your eyes or shaking your head. You will simply pay attention and keep your courtroom face on. Understood?"
"Yes. I'm sorry," I answered contritely.
"Fine. This is the last time I expect to have this conversation," Adam said sternly.
"You're going to do more questioning next time, right?" I asked timidly. Adam cracked a slight grin. "Yes. It will be very different next time. I just wanted to establish a rapport this time with Colt. Next time, it will be much different. This was just the preliminary, remember. Nothing was going to change the case being set for trial, so I didn't want to tip my hand."
"I thought so. What's next?" I asked.
"Jury selection. In this Federal Court, the judge will select the jury. I can submit two questions that I want asked and the prosecutor can do the same thing. We each also get two preemptory objections that we can use to preclude a juror without giving cause. Other than that, it's up to the judge to panel a jury. It's difficult because the jury has to come from Montana and yet the Yellowstone jurisdiction issue puts the trial in Wyoming. I am going to float the concept of a bench trial because of this. I know the judge will be okay with it and if I can get the prosecutor to agree, we should be able to get it done," Adam said.
"What's a bench trial?" I asked.
"Sorry," Adam said. "If everyone agrees to it, you can waive your right to a jury trial. The judge acts as judge and jury in that case and decides guilty or not guilty based on the facts. My sense of this particular judge is that he is quite impartial and has no particular leaning. I think we are better off with a bench trial than we would be with the jurors we would likely get. It would have to be an older, conservative, religious group of older men and women who could serve on it. They would probably be more likely to be swayed by emotion to protect the children and think the worst of you as the accused abuser."
"Wow. No jury?" I mused. "I didn't know that could happen."
"Doesn't happen a lot. Usually, one side or the other feels there is too much of an advantage to have a jury that can be persuaded and more affected by emotion. In this case, without the difficulty that there will be with seating a jury, the prosecutor would never consider agreeing to it and he still may not."
"Why do you think it's possible then?" I asked.
"Because I think the judge will pressure him into it. The prosecutor doesn't want to aggravate a judge in his jurisdiction that he has to go before over and over again for a case that isn't really in his jurisdiction. The prosecutor isn't too concerned with his popularity in Montana when he is in Wyoming."
"Wow. Everything is so political. I never would have thought that about the legal system," I said.
"Life is full of politics. Whenever there are two opinions and a decision to be made, there are politics. Poly means many and well, you know what tics are." Adam made a joke. I laughed but not really at the joke, but because Adam had told one.
"So you think we should do a bench trial?" I questioned.
"I do. Are you willing to put your destiny in the hands of one man?"
"That didn't work out so well for Christ going before Pontius Pilate," I said. I don't know why that popped in my head.
"Well, you're not Christ and we don't have Judge Pilate," Adam answered.
"True. If you believe it's the best thing to do, then I say try it."
"Okay. Sign this waiver and I'll present it." I signed. Then Adam slid up close and locked our eyes. He put a hand on my knee. "Shane, the plea offer has been extended one last time. Will you please reconsider it? Even with a bench trial, I fear that the prosecution has the better case. We're busy trying to find some cracks, but there is a lot of damaging evidence."
I swallowed hard. I didn't want to go through all of that again. I really didn't. "I want my day in court, Adam. I'm innocent. I'd rather die in prison with my honor intact, than live with perceived guilt. I would never be truly free." I said it without flinching. I surprised even myself at how determined and calm I was in the declaration of it.
"Okay. We fight on." Adam stood, gathered up his documents, gave me a warm smile and left. I went back to the waiting room until the van was ready to leave. Later, back in my cell and in my grey jumpsuit with a number on my back, I climbed up onto my gray, steel bunk and pulled the lame excuse for a pillow over my head. I missed my fluffy down pillow from home.
"God, I'm in your hands now. Do with me what you will." I felt a peace. The decision was made.
Whatever happened, I would live with it, deal with it and fight on.
###
Shane is going to have his day in court. The plea is off the table and his fate is in Adam's and God's hands. Hopefully, he hasn't made a mistake. Adam has a mountain to climb to defend him. I hope you remain intrigued with the story. I have written it to the ending so chapters should flow well to the end.
Hans h.schreiber@hushmail.com