A Death in Canaan by Joan; Barthel Page B

remember. You’re afraid of what’s going to happen to you if you tell me the whole truth.
P:
I can’t understand it. If it meant bringing my mother back right now, I don’t remember it.
K:
You said three months ago you fired a flashlight at her. Have you done anything more serious? Tried to choke her, or hit her in the face?
P:
No, no. Absolutely not.
K:
So how do you think we’re going to resolve this, Pete?
P:
We got to keep drilling at it. But I’d like to get some sleep.
K:
Do you want me to start yelling at you?
P:
No.
K:
Would you come back here and talk to me again?
P:
I’ll be happy to come back anytime you want me to. If you want me to see a psychiatrist, except I don’t have any money now.
K:
That’s why I keep talking to you now. I think you almost remember.
P:
I don’t know. I still don’t remember anything. There’s space in there now.
K:
Sit there and close your eyes and just relate your story again from the time you arrive in the yard with the Corvette.
P:
OK. I drive in the yard. Shut off the car. I remember shaking down the headlight. I put it in gear. Locked it up. I went in and yelled, “Mom, I’m home.” I looked up at the bed.
K:
Was the bed messed up, or just turned down?
P:
There was a sleeping bag on top of the blanket. She had the sleeping bag open. The bed lamp was on. I thought I saw her, you know what I mean? Then I did a double take.
K:
See what I mean?
P:
That’s what could mess me up.
K:
This is probably where you flipped over. You probably did see your mother there. And the next thing, you see your mother on the floor. This is our gray area. You feel you saw her standing there.
P:
No, lying in bed.
K:
Oh, all right. Lying in bed.
P:
But I still don’t remember.
K:
Would she have had the light on? Does she normally go to bed so early?
P:
As soon as the news is over, and it got too cold outside to read, she’d go to bed and read. Usually when she went to bed she wore all her clothes. It wasn’t all that fancy as far as cleanliness went.
K:
Maybe this is the problem. Your friends’ houses are nice and clean. You come home to a dirty house.
P:
That doesn’t bother me that much.
K:
Maybe this turns you on. You know?
P:
I wish I could go out and have that cigarette now.
K:
I got a couple here. Let me get an ashtray.
P:
If I did do it, why don’t I remember it?
K:
Because you mind is trying to—
P:
Block it out. I don’t think I’m any dummy.
K:
Oh no. I don’t think you’re a dummy. I think something happened, and you’re so goddamned ashamed, you’re afraid to come out with it.
P:
Do you think I’m deliberately lying to you?
K:
Yeah, I do.
P:
I don’t.
K:
I feel you could tell me right now exactly how your mother died. The way I read the report, something violent had to occur between you and her.
P:
It had to happen between her and I?
K:
Especially with the broken legs. She had to be hit with something, right? Or it could be a complete goddamn accident and you hit her with your car. Maybe with this ailment she had, she had fallen down, and you hit her with the car, and you panicked.
P:
Are my footprints going into the bedroom there?
K:
I understand they have some in blood.
P:
Blood? In my shoe marks?
K:
Well, this takes a while to check out. This isn’t magic.
P:
When I fell asleep this morning, I dreamed I hadn’t gone to the Teen Center, I stayed home, and somebody came into the house, and I was trying to protect her. I don’t remember that clearly either, but I want to find out. I’m more than willing to come back and take another test because if I did it, I want to know I did it.
K:
I think you know now. I think you’re afraid.
P:
I’m not. All my fears are gone. If I was afraid, I’d start crying.
K:
You know what I think, Pete? You’re afraid we’re going to lock you up someplace and throw away the key. This isn’t going to happen.