Page 95 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

“No, your honor, I toldyou,that’s notwhat happened.” Savannah’s big brown eyes were wide and glassy. She was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, standing up in the box, lying with her hand on the Bible for me.

I’d spent several days in jail waiting around for my hearing because my parents didn’t have any money for bail. I told my lawyer the same thing I told the police: we were talking, walking in the woods, and Savannah tripped and fell. I ran home and got her an ice pack, and that was all that happened.

But her parents didn’t believe it because it really did look like a handprint. When they called the police, Savannah insisted we hadn’t done anything, but they checked her clothes for DNA anyway.

“If that’s the case, how do you explain his semen on your shoes?”

Savannah blushed and looked down, swallowed, and then looked back at the prosecutor. “We were kissing... and he... touched himself. It... came out on my shoes. That’s all. We didn’t... do that. He never touched me. And it was a different day.”

“Did he force himself on you when you were kissing?”

“No. He would never do that. Ben is my friend, and he cares about me.”

I sat there at the table in the courtroom watching her, wondering if my life was going to be over before it ever really got started, realizing that my life was now in the hands of the girl I’d bullied and tortured for the past year.

“And you say he didn’t hit you.”

“No, sir. I tripped and fell on the exposed roots of a tree, and hit myself. It didn’t even hurt that bad, it’s just I’m really pale... he ran home and brought me an ice pack.”

There was a lot of back and forth arguing about the details of the story, but when it came down to it, Savannah’s parents insisted I was a rude, dangerous guy who knowingly gave their daughter food that she couldn’t eat with intention to make her sick, and that I had it out for her.

Savannah was escorted off the stand, and the sentencing began. I stared at my hands laying limply in my lap, listening as my life and future was snatched away from me. The only thing I’d wanted was to get out of this fucking town and find a way to have a life that didn’t involve being the quiet scary one. I wanted to cook, own a restaurant like my dad, but do it the right way. I wanted to watch people enjoy what I made. Why was that so bad? What the fuck did I do to deserve to have that snatched away?

Savannah stood up and interrupted the judge. Her voice shook as she said, “Your honor, I’m sorry but this is wrong. You’re going to send an eighteen-year-old boy with a future to prison for something he didn’t do!”

Savannah was told to be quiet and sit down or she would be escorted out of the room. She ignored the security guard who attempted to silence her, staring at the judge with a fierceness I’d never seen before.

“My parents don’t like Reuben and have been looking for an excuse to keep me away from him. You want to know why? Because he gave mechocolate chip cookies.” She said it as if she were disgusted and repulsed by the line of logic. “He baked me warm, fresh, gooey chocolate chip cookies one day, and my parents got mad that he broke the stupidfakediet that they force on me. I don’t have any food allergies, by the way.None. There is nothing wrong with me! But they don’t let me eat eggs or dairy or gluten or processed sugar or fried food because they think it’ll make me fat. This is coming from the people who let me stay in bed for two weeks with a viral infection and refused to give me ‘new age antibiotics’ until the doctor threatened to call social services on them for endangering my life!”

The court was murmuring now as Savannah finished her defense of me, and the judge called for order, gesturing for her to continue.

“Ben Weston is a good man. He’s a hard worker, he cares about his family, and he cares about me. He dropped out of High School to help his dad run his business, and he works more hours a day than anyone in this room, for less than minimum wage. He takes care of his sick mom who can’t walk and can’t cook. He’s my only friend and he’s looked out for me plenty of times. I can’t tell you how many times he’s saved my hide from stepping in bear traps or getting bit by a snake. He makes me lunch when my parents refuse to feed me, and he built me a tree swing because I asked. He’ssweet. He’s myfriend. But everyone in this town seems to be biased against him because he’s bigger than everyone else and he’s quiet.”

It was quiet in the courtroom as the judge stared at Savannah. I hadn’t realized how much she’d listened and picked up on the finer details of my life until then.

She repeated her original lie. “I was walking. I tripped and fell on a set of exposed roots. Ben freaked out, ran into his house, grabbed me an ice pack, and took care of me until my parents called me home. That’s all that happened. He didn’t kidnap me, he didn’t hit me, and he didn’trapeme. Helikesme... he would never hurt me.”

I stared at Savannah, watching her push through her embarrassment of being the center of attention. I knew she was shy, but here she was, making a scene and possibly getting herself in trouble for me. She was quivering under the attention of the room, or maybe the adrenaline, but she stood tall, her shoulders square, her chin high, and spoke as clearly as she could with a conviction I hadn’t expected.

In that moment, I stopped thinking of her as the annoying, weak, silly little girl next door. She wasn’t weak. She had never been weak. She had never been a victim. The only reason I got away with any of the shit I did to her was because sheletme. She had set herself in my hands and took what I gave her because she wanted it, not because she couldn’t stand up for herself.

I couldn’t tear my eyes off her. Suddenly, even without the tears and the blush of humiliation, she was beautiful to me. I distantly recognized that my lawyer was demanding the doctor come in and provide testimony, and the parents saying something about me being older than her so it was still rape, but in the end, I was found not guilty, and was told I was free to go.

Savannah ran over to where I sat. She stood in front of me, hope and relief on her face. I wanted to hold her face in my hands and... what? Kiss her?

I had never imagined kissing Savannah. Not really. All my fantasies involved doing things to her body and watching her face and hearing her pitiful little sounds while I did it. The only time I’d kissed her was when I’d forced her to eat my sandwich. No, I didn’t want to kiss her. Bite her, maybe. I wanted to sink my teeth into her neck as a sign of affection. I wanted to give her another mark to wear proudly as my thanks.

No more marks. Not now, not ever.

Instead, I reached my hand out and took hers in mine, and kissed the knuckles. “Thank you,” I whispered. Her eyes widened at my touch, and she bit her lip.

That was the photo that the press used when they put the story on the front page of the newspaper. The press painted the two of us as victims: Savannah of her hippie crunchy parents, and me of my alcoholic father. Later, as a result of the case, Savannah’s parents were investigated for child abuse, and were required to put her in school instead of homeschool her. They had to bring her to a dietician once a week to check her blood and take her weight. Dad’s bar blew up when the college students nearby heard about what happened, and came by to meet me, support me, and try my food.

Dad was ungrateful of the increased traffic at the bar and blamed me for his increased workload. His health continued to deteriorate from his drinking, and within six months, he’d stopped going to the bar altogether. I ran it myself, mostly because I knew if I left, dad would drink away any and all welfare money that mom got as a result of her disability, and she’d be on her own.

I met a few people around town and ended up making some friends. There were a few local college students and a professor who seemed to like me, and an old Cherokee guy who ran a martial arts studio who was always polite to me. Andy Greenwood did some work on the dining room after some storm damage in exchange for some nice dates for his new wife, and we got to be friends. Strangely enough, there were a few kids who Savannah babysat sometimes who liked to play out by the lake, and I showed them how to skip rocks and tie secure ropes. The Cooper boys and Tammi Levine, even though they were younger than me, became friends of mine simply because they hadn’t been indoctrinated to be afraid of me. And even though they were a little annoying sometimes... they weren’t bad. They just wanted to have fun and play games. And that was something I’d missed out on as a kid.

I stopped playing such dangerous games with Savannah. Instead, I made her show me her body while I stared at her, or whispered cruel things to her in her ear, or set my hands very lightly on her skin, not even touching her enough to leave a warm spot. Once I made her take her shirt off for me and show me her breasts, and I stared at them while I touched myself, but I wouldn’t touch her.

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