the jury,
they seem pretty straightforward,
but answering them on the stand
feels a hell of a lot different
than it did in his office.
When he gets to the question
about why I went upstairs,
I say we had a fight.
He asks what we fought about
and I tell him,
“I thought her boyfriend was boring,
I told her she was staying with him and giving up dance
because she was afraid to take risks.”
What made me think getting that off my chest
in this room, of all places,
would make me feel better?
“It would be taking a risk
for her to have sex with your brother, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, but …”
“Thank you, Miss Grayson.
No further questions, Your Honor.”
Yes and Yes and Yes and …
“How long have you known Ms. Morgan?”
“About ten years.”
“And you were best friends for most of that time?”
“Proud to be her friend?”
“Trusted her?”
“Shared personal secrets?”
“Called her your ‘forever-best’ friend, didn’t you?”
“You are aware that Ms. Morgan has claimed she was raped?”
“You understand rape is a serious charge?”
“That one convicted of rape might lose not only his reputation
but also his freedom?”
“And you understand that, even though it’s not fair,
being raped might damage the victim’s own reputation?”
“And yet Ms. Morgan has come forth to say that she was raped
by the defendant, right?”
“Would it be fair to say that someone who would make up
such a story would be dishonest and dishonorable?”
“And for all the years you’ve known Ms. Morgan,
have you known her—your ‘forever-best’—
to be a dishonest and dishonorable person?”
“Objection!” Uncle Nate calls out,
and the defense attorney withdraws the question.
“Now, Ms. Morgan has reported that she was raped in her
best friend’s house, right?”
“And you’re that best friend?”
“She has reported that this horrible crime occurred while her
best friend was sleeping upstairs, right?”
“That was you sleeping?”
“And she has reported that the rapist was her best friend’s
brother, correct?”
“That was your brother?”
“Now I would expect that someone who had a houseguest
raped in her own house might feel shame. Would you agree?”
“And that shame might be double in intensity if that
houseguest were a friend, and perhaps double again in
intensity if that friend were a best friend. Would you agree?”
“Now, Ms. Grayson, you’ve known Ms. Morgan for years. Your
friend, trusted confidante, your ‘forever-best.’ Do you think
she is the sort of sick person who would lie to make you feel
that sort of shame?”
Uncle Nate jumps to his feet. “Objection! Argumentative.”
The judge says, “Sustained.”
“Now, you love your brother, right?”
“And, while friends are friends, blood runs deep?”
“Would you do anything for your brother?”
“I wouldn’t lie for him about something like this.”
Fast and Furious
These questions fire at me
like the clicks of camera
set on continuous mode.
But memories
of a brother, a best friend,
the worst night of our lives,
are impossible to fit
into the frame of yes-no responses
I’m expected to give.
So they swell up inside me.
Until there are no more questions
until there is no more space
until I leave the courtroom
in a flood of tears.
Adjourned
At the end of the day
I scan the hall for Kate
but I don’t see her.
Closing arguments
are Monday morning.
We should have a verdict
by Monday afternoon.
“I think things went well,” Uncle Nate says,
and congratulates Mike
for keeping cool on the stand,
congratulates me, too.
As we leave the courthouse
I put my hand to my mouth
to keep from throwing up
all over Uncle Nate’s
shiny black shoes.
Natural Light
I’m looking to do anything
to keep my mind busy this weekend.
I haven’t taken a portrait in a long time,
but Mrs. Pratt wants one taken in natural light,
and the sun glistens off the water
as I come down the ferry ramp.
I see an old man at the
they seem pretty straightforward,
but answering them on the stand
feels a hell of a lot different
than it did in his office.
When he gets to the question
about why I went upstairs,
I say we had a fight.
He asks what we fought about
and I tell him,
“I thought her boyfriend was boring,
I told her she was staying with him and giving up dance
because she was afraid to take risks.”
What made me think getting that off my chest
in this room, of all places,
would make me feel better?
“It would be taking a risk
for her to have sex with your brother, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, but …”
“Thank you, Miss Grayson.
No further questions, Your Honor.”
Yes and Yes and Yes and …
“How long have you known Ms. Morgan?”
“About ten years.”
“And you were best friends for most of that time?”
“Proud to be her friend?”
“Trusted her?”
“Shared personal secrets?”
“Called her your ‘forever-best’ friend, didn’t you?”
“You are aware that Ms. Morgan has claimed she was raped?”
“You understand rape is a serious charge?”
“That one convicted of rape might lose not only his reputation
but also his freedom?”
“And you understand that, even though it’s not fair,
being raped might damage the victim’s own reputation?”
“And yet Ms. Morgan has come forth to say that she was raped
by the defendant, right?”
“Would it be fair to say that someone who would make up
such a story would be dishonest and dishonorable?”
“And for all the years you’ve known Ms. Morgan,
have you known her—your ‘forever-best’—
to be a dishonest and dishonorable person?”
“Objection!” Uncle Nate calls out,
and the defense attorney withdraws the question.
“Now, Ms. Morgan has reported that she was raped in her
best friend’s house, right?”
“And you’re that best friend?”
“She has reported that this horrible crime occurred while her
best friend was sleeping upstairs, right?”
“That was you sleeping?”
“And she has reported that the rapist was her best friend’s
brother, correct?”
“That was your brother?”
“Now I would expect that someone who had a houseguest
raped in her own house might feel shame. Would you agree?”
“And that shame might be double in intensity if that
houseguest were a friend, and perhaps double again in
intensity if that friend were a best friend. Would you agree?”
“Now, Ms. Grayson, you’ve known Ms. Morgan for years. Your
friend, trusted confidante, your ‘forever-best.’ Do you think
she is the sort of sick person who would lie to make you feel
that sort of shame?”
Uncle Nate jumps to his feet. “Objection! Argumentative.”
The judge says, “Sustained.”
“Now, you love your brother, right?”
“And, while friends are friends, blood runs deep?”
“Would you do anything for your brother?”
“I wouldn’t lie for him about something like this.”
Fast and Furious
These questions fire at me
like the clicks of camera
set on continuous mode.
But memories
of a brother, a best friend,
the worst night of our lives,
are impossible to fit
into the frame of yes-no responses
I’m expected to give.
So they swell up inside me.
Until there are no more questions
until there is no more space
until I leave the courtroom
in a flood of tears.
Adjourned
At the end of the day
I scan the hall for Kate
but I don’t see her.
Closing arguments
are Monday morning.
We should have a verdict
by Monday afternoon.
“I think things went well,” Uncle Nate says,
and congratulates Mike
for keeping cool on the stand,
congratulates me, too.
As we leave the courthouse
I put my hand to my mouth
to keep from throwing up
all over Uncle Nate’s
shiny black shoes.
Natural Light
I’m looking to do anything
to keep my mind busy this weekend.
I haven’t taken a portrait in a long time,
but Mrs. Pratt wants one taken in natural light,
and the sun glistens off the water
as I come down the ferry ramp.
I see an old man at the
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