True Colors

“I hear you suddenly think Dallas Raintree is innocent. So that means the police and the jury were either stupid or wrong. And I guess you figure I’m a liar.”

Winona understood the long faces looking up at her now. News of her petition had gotten out faster than she’d expected.

She took a deep breath and began to explain, forming each word with exquisite care, but as she looked out over the crowd, she knew. Her words might be perfectly chosen and elegantly, passionately strung together, but in the end they were weightless things, bits of sound and breath that disappeared like soap bubbles into the air. No one cared about remedying a long-ago mistake.

No one cared about Dallas Raintree.

Halfway through her explanation, Trumbull cut her off, saying, “Your time is up, Winona.”

And the people applauded.

Chapter Twenty-six

This is the worst Christmas ever. We went to church but I guess all that talk about forgiveness and faith is a bunch of shit. I mean, hardly anyone in town will talk to Aunt Winona and all she’s trying to do is tell people that maybe they were wrong about my dad.

He’s not helping either because he STILL WON’T SEE ME. Aunt Winona says he doesn’t want me to see him in handcuffs and behind bars but that is so lame. I know all this would be easier if I could just hear him say he didn’t kill that woman.

I tried to talk to Cissy about all of it but even that isn’t working like it used to. We talk at school and stuff, only people are watching us now, pointing and whispering. At the winter break assembly I couldn’t find her anywhere. I know she was hiding so she didn’t have to be seen with me. The worst part is I get it. I know how mad her dad is at Aunt Winona. And Cissy says her grandma just cries all the time. It totally pisses me off. Why does everyone care so much about my dad being a murderer? It’s like just the IDEA of him being innocent makes everyone crazy. Aunt Winona says It’s because people need to believe in the law and the cops and we’re scaring them, but that’s totally bogus.

I tried to talk to my mom about it on Christmas night, after we got home from Grandpa’s. I could tell she was sad and she’s doing what she always does when something bugs her, she gets all quiet and stares out the window as if she’s waiting for something. But she has a chance to believe in my dad again, maybe even to hope that he can come back to us and she acts like Aunt Winona is ruining our lives for even trying.

So tonight I asked her. I said why don’t you want Dad to come home to us?

And she DIDN’T EVEN ANSWER ME. She just walked into the kitchen like I was invisible. So I went into my room and slammed the door shut behind me.

What an excellent Christmas.

P.S. And Aunt Winona lost the election by a landslide. Rumor is that only Aunt Aurora and Mom voted for her.

Vivi Ann heard Noah’s bedroom door slam shut. She bowed her head, releasing the breath she’d been holding.

This couldn’t go on any longer.

Straightening her spine, trying to simulate a strength lost long ago, she went into the hallway and walked down to his room. Even as she knocked and heard his irritated, “Come in. I can’t stop you,” she wondered what exactly she would say. Opening the door, she went inside, pretending to study the posters and pictures tacked up onto the walls. “You asked me why I don’t want Dallas to come back.”

“And you stared out the window.”

She turned to him finally. “Yes. Can I sit by you?”

“I don’t know. Can you?”

She went over to his bed, said, “Move over,” and then sat down beside him. “Remember when you were little, before the electricity was done in your room? I used to sit here with you and read by flashlight. You loved The Dark Is Rising, remember?”

“Just answer the question, Mom.”

She leaned back against the wobbly headboard and sighed. “I never should have let you hang out with Win. You’ve learned her Doberman techniques.”

“Don’t say anything bad about her. She’s the only one in this stinking family who cares about my dad.”

“Believe me, Noah. I care about your father.”

“Coulda fooled me. You never talk about him. There aren’t any pictures of him in the house. Yeah, you really care. You’re not even hoping he’ll get out of prison.”

“You’re young, Noah, so hope seems shiny to you, and I’m glad of that. I really am. But I’ve learned differently over the years. It can be dark, too.”

“So? You don’t just give up on someone.”

Vivi Ann closed her eyes in pain. “That’s an easy thing to say, Noah. You have no idea what we lived through, Dallas and I.”