"What happened next?"
"We waited just a little bit, and then he walked me back to the road. I sneaked back into the hotel. My mother was sleeping by then, so I put the dress back in her closet."
"Did the dress fit you?"
"Yes, perfectly. My mother and I are the same size."
"Were you in love with Mr. Coleridge, Miss Spooner?"
I ducked my head. "Yes, sir, I was."
At least I got to tell one solid truth today.
"Did you have any knowledge at any time that Mr. Coleridge might have a romance with your mother?"
"Oh, no. I knew he didn't. She spent time with both of us. It was a good ... cover, Peter said. No one would suspect the two of us if my mother was along."
"Was Peter Coleridge in love with you, Miss Spooner?"
"Yes. He was. He told me so."
Mom slowly slid off her chair.
The photographers who were hiding their cameras rushed forward. The judge banged his gavel, but no one listened. I stood up.
"Give her some air!" I heard Joe shout.
People rushed forward, but Joe waved them back. The judge banged his gavel again. Someone called for water. It had turned into a circus in a tent, all color and heat and movement. And smell. I felt like I could smell everyone in the room, the ladies with the half-moons of perspiration under the arms of their rayon dresses, the men with their handkerchiefs already wet from mopping their foreheads, their hats tilted back.
Through all the commotion, I noticed a man sitting on the aisle near the back. I noticed him by his stillness. He was the only one not whispering or craning his neck to see Mom. A man dressed in a plain dark suit, a white shirt buttoned tightly at his neck, and no tie. He would have been handsome if it weren't for the deep lines in his face, his thinning iron-gray hair. I thought I was used to people staring at me, but this gaze felt deeper than the others.
"I call for a recess, your honor," Mr. Markel said. The judge sighed. He leaned over and said to me, "Would you like a recess, miss?”
“No, I'd like to go on," I said.
"Then please sit down, Miss Spooner."
I turned again to Mr. Markel, in a hurry to get this over with. I could still feel the gray-haired man's gaze.
Mom pushed away the glass of water one of the court officers kept trying to get her to drink. She pressed her handkerchief against her forehead. She looked so pale, so small.
I broke Mr. Markel's rule and looked straight into her eyes. She shook her head, just a little bit, tears pooling in her eyes. I didn't know what the head shake meant. You don't have to lie, Evie.
But I did, and she knew it, so maybe she was shaking her head at the whole awful stink of it.
Not too much longer, Mom.
"Did your parents ever find out about your romance with Peter Coleridge?" Mr. Markel asked. "I told them this morning," I said. "They were surprised?"
"They were shocked. I wish I'd told them before."
"Now we come to the second part of your testimony," Mr. Markel said. "I know you come forward reluctantly on this issue, Miss Spooner, and I know this might be hard for you. Can you tell us about the events of September seventeenth?"
"Well, my parents and Peter had planned to hire a boat that day. Then we found out that a storm was coming, and they talked about whether to go."
"There were small craft warnings."
"Peter said he could handle the boat, if they still wanted to go."
The man with the thin gray hair and the thick hands was still staring at me.
Stop looking at me like that, stop it.
"So they went out on Mr. Forrest's boat, and I was waiting for them at the hotel. Wally — Walter — was getting off his shift."
"That's Walter Forrest, the former bellhop at the Le Mirage Hotel?"
"Yes. I was nervous and upset — the weather was getting worse, and I was worried about my parents and Peter. I knew Wally from the hotel, and he seemed like a swell boy. He reassured me, saying the weather wasn't too bad yet. Then he said maybe we should walk to the beach and look at the waves. We walked along the beach for a while, and then ... he suggested that we sit up near the dunes."
"Was anyone else on the beach at that time?”
“No, it was beginning to get quite windy.”
“What happened then?" I hesitated.
"Miss Spooner," Mr. Markel said in a gentle voice, "please go on."
"Well, Wally kissed me. And I guess he lost his head. He pushed me down on the sand. He ... pulled up my skirt. I tried to get him off me —"
Just the fans whirring now. That was the only noise. It was like a roar in my ears. I had to speak through the noise. I saw a woman in the third row, her round blue eyes trained on my face. I saw sympathy there, and surprise, and ... greed.
"I'm sure he didn't mean to frighten me —"
Suddenly Mr. Forrest rose from a middle row. I hadn't seen him. His big sunburned face was red. "Liar! You led him on! You're a whore like your mother!"
The word whore was like a bomb thrown into the courtroom. A couple of women shrieked, and Joe half-rose, as if he'd deck Captain Sandy, and the judge called, "Get that man out of my courtroom!"
Whore. How strange it felt, to have that word thrown at my head.
I had to concentrate on the roar of the train in my head, of the shadow that noise could cast.
The silent man on the aisle, watching me. Never taking his eyes off me.
I leaned over and buried my face in my handkerchief. I wasn't crying. Tears were so far away from me now, it was like they were in another country. I just kept my head there, until the gavel stopped banging and the room went quiet, and I knew that Mr. Forrest had been escorted from the courtroom.
"Miss Spooner?" The judge spoke in a nicer voice than I'd heard before. "Can you continue?"
Slowly, I raised my head. The women had stopped fanning themselves. The reporters were furiously scribbling in their notebooks and looking at me at the same time.
Everything happens underneath the same moon. Things you never thought you'd see. Or do.
I was sorry about Wally. But I had to do it. I had to tell them what happened so that they wouldn't believe him over me. But I couldn't let it stay like that.
"I'm responsible for what happened," I said. "I went with Wally to the beach alone. And when he suggested we find a place in the dunes, I went with him. And when he kissed me, at first I was so surprised that I didn't say no. I guess he thought... well, I guess he thought I was fast. I don't blame him for that."
"What happened after the ... incident?" Mr. Markel asked.
"He walked me back to the hotel. My skirt was torn. I was upset. And the hotel manager, Mr. Forney, he saw us. He was outside. He called to Wally, and later on Mr. Forney told me that he fired Wally because of what happened. It's not like I think Wally would hold a grudge against my family or anything...." I looked down at my twisted handkerchief. "I mean, I hope he doesn't blame me for his getting fired. He saw someone with Peter that night, and I guess he thought it was my mother. It's not like he was making anything up. He just got confused because of the blue dress, maybe."
It was almost over. I looked out at the woman in the third row. She was nodding just a little bit as she listened.
The state's attorney was looking down at his notes. His bald spot was shiny with sweat. It was his turn now.
I answered every question, and he couldn't rattle me. He tried to do his job, but I knew by his eyes that he believed me, too. After ten minutes he gave up, and I was dismissed.
When I walked down the aisle to leave, I had to pass the man. I looked right into his face. His eyes were light green. I could see how handsome he'd been once. He had the hands of a fisherman, thick and useful-looking.