Right after those thirteen that had been there all along went out, I was taken out too. And when I was brought in again, they filed in too. And when the one on the end stood up, I cared less than any one in the room what he was going to say. Then the word “Guilty” came floating toward me like a golden balloon in the air, the reward for all I had been through.
And it grew dark, and it grew light again, and it grew dark and light again. Maybe six times, or maybe sixteen times or maybe sixty. And they kept bringing me back to that place, and bringing me back to that place, and bringing me back to that place. And the last time they brought me back, the judge spoke for a long time, and ended up by saying, “and may God have mercy on your soul.” Then I heard a loud cry in a corner of the room, and turned that way, and saw Maxine lying on the floor. And while the world rolled on without her, I wondered if she had died then or was still living. But some day soon, soon now, the world won’t have to wonder that about me.