Some Justice-Part Two

4247 Maplewood Dr.

Monday, March 19, 2001 

8:00 AM 

“It’s the perfect time of year—somewhere far away from here—I feel fine enough I guess—considering everything’s a mess…” 

The music played in Jenna’s ears as she looked out the car window—it was funny, she thought—how even the people walking on the sidewalk seemed to be moving to the beat. They stopped at the light—there was a bus-stop on the corner—Jenna watched as a girl ran to catch the bus.  The girl almost looked like Lisa— Lisa, who was still upset because Jenna couldn’t practice with her today.

*~*

“You’re not going to make the dance team unless you practice, Jenna.”  Lisa had chided her over the phone last night.

“Come on—it’s not like I have a choice. I’m visiting the court tomorrow.” 

“I know that—but you haven’t exactly been enthusiastic about this whole thing, have you?”

“Lisa, I’m trying to—I really am—life is just a little crazy.”

*~*

But if she was really honest with herself—she hadn’t actually been trying at all. Life in general had been improving—Terri had moved on to tormenting others for the time being—probably little children and small animals, for all Jenna knew—but at least she was leaving her alone. The gag order the court had imposed on the press about her case had probably helped with that—out of sight, out of mind—that was good—and Dr. Pfaff was helping her with the courtroom stuff. Jenna still had good-sized butterflies in her stomach at the thought but the big giant lump—the ache—seemed to have dissolved a little.  So what was the problem with dancing? She could remember how she used to love it—but thinking about it now made her feel nothing at all— and Jenna had to admit that the ‘nothing’ feeling bothered her a little.

‘Maybe it’s not a big deal,’ she thought ‘Maybe I’m just outgrowing it.’   Still, she thought that she should feel something.

“It's like a dream - you try to remember but it's gone then ya try to scream but it only comes out as a yawn…”

“Jenna!”  

The song broke off as Dad reached over and pulled her earphones off. 

“What’s wrong?”  Jenna asked.

“What’s wrong is that I’ve been calling your name now for about ten minutes,” Dad told her. “What are you listening to, anyway?” 

“The Barenaked Ladies.” 

Dad’s eyes widened. “The what??” 

“Dad it’s just the name of a group—some Canadian guys—Phillip gave it to me for my birthday.” 

“It’s guys?—just guys?” 

Jenna nodded.

“And they call themselves the Barenaked—only none of them are naked?’ 

“No—they all keep their clothes on—it’s just a name, Dad—and the music is really cool.” 

“Really cool, huh? Weird.”  Dad shook his head. “One of these days I’ve got to introduce you to The Rolling Stones.”

“You don’t think that’s a weird name?”

“Not as weird as Barenaked Ladies, no.”  They had pulled into the parking lot—Jenna’s neck craned as she looked up at the tall white and blue building—Arlington County Courthouse. It was huge—she swallowed hard—suddenly feeling very small.  How on earth was she going to—the butterflies were going full swing now—big butterflies.

“Munchkin?”  Jenna turned her head. Her emotions must have been written across her face, because Dad’s own face was filled with concern.

“First we’ll be going up to talk to Mr. Dutton—he’s on the fifth floor,” he told her. “The courtroom is here in the same building—and they’re going to let us visit—you’ll be able to see  the room where you’ll be testifying—the cameras—we’ll try to get all of your questions answered, okay?” 

“Sure.” Jenna’s voice came out in a squeak—she could feel her cheeks growing warm. Dad took her hand and squeezed reassuringly.

“Everything will be just fine,” he told her. “You’ll be fine, Jenna—I know you will.” 

Jenna tried to smile at him—wishing that she could be as sure as he was. 

Office of the Commonwealth's Attorney

8:15 AM

"It's nice to meet you, Jenna."  The older man extended his hand to her—he was tall—chubby—with white hair. Bright blue eyes peered down at Jenna from behind thick glasses—but this man's eyes were kind, she thought—not cold at all. "I'm Mr. Robert Dutton—the Commonwealth's Attorney for Arlington County." 

Jenna shook his hand. "It's nice to meet you, too.” It was a nice office—small for such a large building—and cozy looking—sort of like Dr. Pfaff's office except that she couldn't spot a freezer anywhere. Different diplomas hung on the wall—Virginia Bar Association, Georgetown University Law School—the sun shone in through a curtained window, casting a golden light on the carpet. A clock on the wall ticked softly. 

"Sit down," Mr. Dutton indicated the two chairs near his desk—Jenna took one and Dad sat down beside her. "Can I get either of you anything—maybe a soda?" 

"No, that's okay—I'm fine," Jenna told him. Dad just shook his head. 

"What was that you were listening to on your CD player?" Mr. Dutton asked her. 

"Just some music—the Barenaked Ladies." Jenna expected the same confused reaction she'd gotten from her dad—she was surprised when Mr. Dutton actually smiled. 

"Really? My daughter loves them," the attorney said. "She's a bit older than you though—she's sixteen. I took her to a concert last year for her birthday." 

"You went to a Barenaked Ladies concert?" Jenna asked. 

Mr. Dutton nodded. "Hard to believe, huh—an old guy like me? But I actually had a good time there."  He paused. "So, is this your first visit to a court?" 

"Yes sir," Jenna said. ‘Was sir the right thing?’ Jenna was pretty sure that she didn't call him ‘Your Honor’—that was a judge. "And I guess I'm a little nervous." 

"I can imagine," Mr. Dutton said. How have things been going in general, though—at school and home?" 

"Things are easier at school now,"  Jenna said. "I think because there's not so much publicity because of the gag order—people are treating me normally." 

"That's very good," Mr. Dutton said. "And at home?" 

"It's a lot better." 

"No nightmares or flashbacks?" 

"No, sir."  She didn't tell him about the brief flashes of panic she got from time to time—especially when alone—she usually managed to control those with breathing.

"I'm glad to hear it," Mr. Dutton said. "Now that I've asked you some questions, Jenna—I bet you must have a few to ask me." 

"Yes sir." Jenna drew in a deep breath before speaking. "How strong is the case against Gary Johnston? I mean people say it's a strong case but I don't really know—I mean, I never watched the news—not after that one time—but I heard that his attorney was saying stuff." 

"What kind of things did you hear?" 

"That he says Gary is innocent—it was all a misunderstanding—and that when the truth comes out the charges will be dropped and he'll be released," Jenna said. 

"And that scared you—didn't it?" 

"Of course," Jenna replied. "I don't want him to get out—if he's released he'll hurt me—I don't want to be hurt anymore." Her voice shook—Dad took her hand in his. 

"Jenna, let me tell you one thing," Mr. Dutton said. "Gary Johnston isn't going anywhere—we have a lot of solid evidence against him—and with your help, we can put him away for a very long time—possibly for the rest of his life." 

The rest of Gary's life—Jenna had to admit that sounded good. "What kind of evidence?" 

"Evidence that he took from you—he cut and dyed your hair—that he drugged you—there's DNA evidence—hospital records of your injuries—photographs—"

"Photographs? You mean—when I was in the hospital they took them?"  Again Mr. Dutton nodded. Jenna tried to think back—it was all one big blur—she remembered lights shining in her eyes, different voices—mom's hand holding her own tightly, not wanting to let go even though the nurse was saying that she'd have to—mom's hand smoothing the side of Jenna's face.
 

*~*
"You'll be fine, sweetheart—you're safe now—everything's all right."
*~*

Mom's hand had felt nice and cool—the touch soothing—so safe—Jenna had finally allowed her eyes to close—her tired body finally giving in to the rest it needed—after that she must have fallen asleep or passed out, because the next thing she recalled was the hospital room—and her parents.

"Munchkin?" Dad asked. 

"I'm all right," Jenna said. "Really. I—I just guess that I never thought of photographs—but it sort of makes sense that there would be—I mean, it's evidence against him—which is good." She felt silly, rambling in this way. And even though it was evidence—the thought of the photographs still made Jenna feel a little weird. 

"What I don't understand," she said finally. "Is why his lawyer would say that he'll be proven innocent if there's all this evidence against him." 

Mr. Dutton sighed. "It's called spreading disinformation, Jenna—and unfortunately it's a game that some attorneys play—indirectly implying that the state's evidence is weak or that there's another side to the story that they haven't heard—leaving the media free to speculate what the other side could be—and the public often assumes that the defense case must be stronger than it actually is. Sometimes it's an attempt to influence a future jury pool. But let me tell you this—Gary's going to be tried in a court of law—not by the media—and our case against him is very strong."

Very strong. It sounded reassuring, but still—Jenna stared down at her hands—her father's hand still holding hers—and then looked back up at Mr. Dutton. "I'm your main witness?" 

"Yes—you are," Mr. Dutton said. "Your testimony is very important in this case." 

At those words the butterflies in Jenna's stomach fluttered their wings—slightly faster than before—with her free hand she gripped the arm of the chair. "What do you want me to say?" 

"Jenna I can't tell you what to say—all I need you to do is tell the truth about what Gary Johnston did to you—I'll be letting you tell your story and asking you some questions to clarify your account or to emphasize a detail. You'll only be giving a brief summary for the preliminary hearing—more in-depth testimony will be required for the trial." 

"What exactly is a preliminary hearing?" 

"It's a short hearing—it usually only lasts about an hour—all we need to do is establish probable cause that a crime occurred—which shouldn't be any problem." 

"Who makes the decision?"  Jenna asked. "Is it a jury?" 

"No," Mr. Dutton said. "For the hearing a judge would make the decision." 

"Does the trial come next?"  Jenna knew she was asking a lot of stuff, but she really needed to know—she wasn't trying to be a pest. 

"No—next comes the Grand Jury—you won't have to testify for that—only the law enforcement officers responsible for your case testify there—the jury determines if the charges are valid—and if they are an indictment is issued. The trial is usually a few months after that." Mr. Dutton opened his desk, taking out a small pamphlet and handing it to her. "Here's some more information on the process—reading it should help to give you a better understanding."

Jenna looked at the title—Courtroom Procedures in the Commonwealth of Virginia. "And I get to testify by CCTV?" 

"For the preliminary hearing, yes. Nothing's been decided about the trial yet, but that's months away—I wouldn't worry." Mr. Dutton said. "It's two-way CCTV—you'll be able to see the court and the court will be able to see you. He stood. "If you'll follow me, I'll take you to the room where you'll be testifying—you'll be able to see everything and a technician will be able to explain in more detail." 

Dad's hand gave her own a reassuring squeeze—together they stood, following Mr. Dutton out of the office. 

SMK SMK SMK SMK

A trip in the elevator—one floor up—then down a carpeted hallway and into the first door on the right. The room was small—smaller than Jenna had expected it to be. A rectangular wooden table and chairs occupied the center of the room—there was a camera—phones on the table—and at the other end of the table, facing her, was what looked like a large television and VCR on a cart with wheels—it reminded Jenna of school—the teacher would get those from the AV center and wheel them in so they could show a movie. A dark-haired woman was doing something to one of the cameras—she straightened as Mr. Dutton came into the room. 

"Jenna, this is Barbara," Mr. Dutton said. "She's a technician with the Virginia State Police. Barbara, this is Jenna—I was wondering if you could give her a basic rundown—tell her how everything will work when she testifies." 
 

Barbara smiled. "Be glad to. Okay, Jenna—you'll be sitting at this end of the table here—come here—" Jenna sat down where she directed. "Your lawyer will be on one side—and your parent or whoever will be with you that day—will sit on the other side. You'll be miked—we'll put a microphone on you so the courtroom can pick up your voice—and that camera there will be trained on you." 

Jenna looked at the large TV screen—she noticed how the wires from the screen and the VCR ran straight through the wall—vaguely she wondered where they ran—what they hooked up to. Barbara noticed her looking. 

"Those run through to the control booth," she explained. "It's nearby—you'll have a chance to see it later." 

"What does the TV show?" Jenna asked. 

"Well the monitor will show you a live picture of the courtroom," Barbara explained. "The VCR will record your testimony." 

The courtroom, Jenna thought—where Gary would be—and he'd be looking at her—she swallowed, looking up at Barbara. "They won't make me—I mean—I don't have to look at the monitor when I talk—do I?"

"No, not if you don't want to," Barbara said. "Bur you'll be able to communicate with the courtroom—and they can communicate with you."

"Is that what the phones are for?" Jenna asked.

"No," Barbara said. "The phones are for private communication between attorneys or attorneys and their clients."

"And the other lawyer—Gary's lawyer—for the defense—he'll be in here too?" 

"Yes," Mr. Dutton said. "He'll be at the other end of the table." 

"Will he be asking me questions too?" Jenna asked. 

"Yes," Mr. Dutton told her. "He's entitled to cross-examine you." 

Jenna had a vague idea of what cross-examination was—she'd seen Matlock before—usually the person that Matlock cross-examined ended up crying, confessing to something—part of her knew that was only TV, but still—

"He'll stay in his chair, right—the defense attorney?" Jenna asked. "I mean, he won't get up and walk towards me or anything like that."  She saw the confusion in Mr. Dutton's eyes and tried to explain. "I just don't like anyone standing over me—it makes me nervous." 

"Jenna, no one's going to be allowed to do anything that will frighten or intimidate you," Mr. Dutton said. "I promise." 

"Okay." Jenna realized her hands were shaking slightly and she clenched them in her lap. "But what does happen during a cross-examination?" 

Mr. Dutton was silent for a moment. "He's probably going to try and make you seem less believable—imply that you're confused—that you're mistaken or exaggerating what happened to you." 

"But I'm not—I'm not mistaken about anything—it's all true." Jenna said. 

"We know that, Jenna—but the only way that he can defend his client is to cast doubt on you." Mr. Dutton took the seat next to her. "For instance, he might ask you questions and want you to answer them with only a yes or a no—he'll try to twist around what you said so that it sounds like something else." 

She couldn't win, Jenna thought—this was sounding more and more complicated—the butterflies in her stomach were going crazy. "What can I do if he tries to do that?"

"Just stick to the truth." Dad's voice broke in. "Tell him if you can't answer a question with just a yes or no—don't let him confuse you—and if there's something you honestly can't remember just say so—no one expects your memory to be perfect. I’ve testified in court before,” he explained when she looked at him.

“Your father’s absolutely right,” Mr. Dutton told her.  “Just remember—you have the truth on your side, Jenna—you know what happened to you better than anyone else.”

“I know,” Jenna said.  “It just—it seems like a lot to remember all at once.” 

“You don’t have to remember it all at once,” Dad told her.  “We’ll work on it, munchkin—I promise.” 

“Yes we will,” Mr. Dutton assured her. “We won’t let you be unprepared—don’t worry.” 

“I won’t,” Jenna tried to sound convincing—even if the butterflies wouldn’t leave her alone.  She wasn’t sure what else to say—brave was what she wanted to be—what everyone expected her to be—she didn’t want to let anyone know how much it all still frightened her. Dr. Pfaff kept reminding her that she was in control, that she had the power this time, but Jenna wasn’t so sure about that. Wouldn’t someone with power feel more—powerful somehow?

Barbara’s voice broke the silence. “Jenna—if you still want to see the control booth I can show you now.”

SMK SMK SMK  SMK

The control booth was nothing like Jenna had expected—it was mostly dark—with two overhead lights—track lights, Barbara called them. She said they were used for illuminating the audio console and the switcher. The audio console was a black box with lots of red, white and yellow buttons and switches—and levers that moved up and down—Jenna wondered how anyone could keep track of which ones to press.

Maybe it was because it was dark, but to her it felt a little stuffy, the air close—the only sound Jenna could hear was the whirring of fans and that slight hum that you always heard around computers. There were a lot of screens of different sizes—mostly black and white but some color—they seemed to be piled one on top of the other and the images—Jenna peered closer at one of the black and white images.

“Is that the room we were just in?”  she asked, looking up at Barbara.

Barbara nodded. “Yes it is—and here’s one of the courtrooms.” She pointed. Jenna could see the people in the courtroom—they looked so small from up here—she could see the witness box, the judge—Jenna wondered what  it would be like to have to actually sit in the box and testify in the courtroom—with Gary sitting right there—she shivered. Hopefully she’d never have to find out.

“You okay, Munchkin?”  Dad asked her—even in the dim light she could see the worry on his face—she hated that she was always worrying him. Jenna nodded and tried to smile a little.

“I’m fine,” she told him. “Am I going to get to see a courtroom?” 

Mr. Dutton looked at his watch. “Courtroom G is empty,” he said. “We could go there right now if you like—I could have Judge Nelson meet us there—he’s semi-retired—he doesn’t hear many cases any more, but he’s always available to answer questions.”

“Okay,” Jenna turned to Barbara. “It was nice to meet you—and thank you.”

Barbara smiled. “You’re welcome, Jenna.”

SMK SMK SMK SMK

The judge seemed friendly, Jenna thought—he said that she didn’t have to call him ‘your honor’ unless she was in court—he did like to answer questions—mostly he seemed to like to talk, and  Jenna let him—the butterflies were making it difficult for her to think of anything to say herself.  It had been one thing—practicing all of this with Dad, with Dr. Pfaff—this made it all seem very real...

“Now the bailiff stands here—close to the judge—” Judge Nelson pointed. “The court reporter will be sitting over there—the prosecution on that side—the defense over there. You’ll be able to see all of this from your monitor, of course.”

‘Sure—if I look’, Jenna added silently. She hadn’t quite decided what she was going to do about that.  Dad walked beside her as she followed behind the Judge, and she could hear Mr. Dutton’s footsteps behind them.

“Of course the bailiff is the one who will swear you in.” the judge said. “Is this going to be closed or open to the public?” 

“Closed,” Dad said.

“Well in that case friends and family will be seated in the audience,” Judge Nelson said. “Unless they’re called to testify, of course.” 

“Will I be sworn in up in the CCTV room?” Jenna asked. 

The Judge nodded. “You’ll be up there the whole time.” He paused. “I realize you won’t need to sit in the Witness Box for the hearing—but would you like to try it—just in case?”

In case she had to sit there for the trial—that’s what he was trying to say. Jenna looked at the box—the courtroom was smaller than she’d thought it would be—but suddenly the box looked huge. “I don’t know—”

“Go on, munchkin,” Dad urged. “You’ll be fine.” 

“Okay.”  Jenna walked up—at first she tried to push the little door leading into the box—it didn’t budge—so she pulled it—the door opened—Jenna sat down. The chair was a little big, but it didn’t feel too big.  Then she looked over the court—her heart pounded and her mouth felt suddenly dry.

“Testifying in open court is not as frightening as many make it out to be,” the Judge was saying. “We do everything we can to alleviate fear for the person testifying—particularly if that person is a child.”

“I understand.”  Jenna told him. Why would he be telling her this?  Unless he wanted to prepare her for the possibility that she might have to— she pictured  Gary sitting where the defendant  normally sat—the smile on his face—blue eyes like blocks of ice—“Will the man I’m testifying against—will he have handcuffs on for the hearing or the trial?”

Judge Nelson shook his head. “Most likely not—a person is considered innocent until proven guilty—handcuffs might be considered a presumption of guilt—especially during a trial.”

“But he will be guarded, though—right?” 

“Oh, there’ll be plenty of guards—don’t you worry.”  Dad told her.

“What about when we’re waiting to testify?  We won’t be in the same place—will we?” 

“No,” the Judge told her. “You’ll have a separate room—you won’t be close to him at all.” 

“I just don’t—I don’t want him getting loose or escaping.” Jenna explained.

“He’s not going to escape,” Mr. Dutton said. “And your testimony will ensure that he never gets out again, Jenna—think about that.” 

‘I could put him away for the rest of his life.’

Could she do it here, Jenna wondered—sitting in this box? If she really had to?   In her mind’s eye, though—she could still see that man—looking at her—it would be a little hard to testify if she was unable to move or speak.

“Do you have any more questions for the judge or anyone else?” Mr. Dutton asked her.

A million things ran through her mind—but nothing that—finally Jenna shook her head.

“No.”  Her voice echoed slightly. “No more questions—I’m fine.”

 TBC