The Wave by Kristen Crusoe (ebook reader online txt) 📗

‘If you will direct your responses to the court,’ the judge said to Claudia, gently.

‘Yes, Your Honor,’ she replied.

Several other witnesses filed through. The fisherman who had watched her walk into the water. The paramedics who had pulled her out. A neighbor who had seen her drive her car out of the driveway that afternoon. She remarked that, ‘Mrs Mercer was very highly strung, running back and forth from the car to the house several times before backing out of the driveway at high speed. I almost went over to check on things. Since the poor boy was lost, that house had a darkness to it, so I didn’t.’

The mental health court investigator described Clair’s state on admission, her psychotic delusions, disorganized and tangential speech patterns, and determined that at that time she was experiencing psychosis and was mentally ill.

Staff attested to her cooperative behaviors on the unit. Jet was called.

‘Dr Juliette Elena Taylor, forensic psychologist, Harbor Hospital,’ she cited.

‘Dr Taylor,’ Clair’s defense attorney asked. ‘Do you agree that Clair Mercer does have a mental illness and that at the time of her attempt to murder her husband, Adam Gage, she was mentally ill?’

‘Yes, I do,’ Jet replied.

‘And do you think that she continues to present a danger to herself or any other person at this time?’ he asked.

‘I do. Dr Mercer continues to have suicidal ideation and I do think that if not under safe and structured conditions, she will attempt to kill herself again. I do not think she presents a danger to any other person at this time.’

Adam Gage was called. He looked less than his former self, as though life had taken an erasure to his charisma. All the features were there: the craggy face, lines like ski runs marking his way through life, from his soulful blue eyes to his full, wide mouth. His hair, silver blonde, shined like a new coin. He dressed for the part, Clair thought, studying him from her chair. Dark, charcoal pants, silk shirt, light navy cashmere sweater draped loosely over his shoulders. But she could see it was an act. That his assurance was lacking. She almost felt sorry for him. She pondered this thought for a moment, as he was sworn in.

Clair had never been one to speculate on the unknowable. She preferred the smooth electric slide of numbers to the intractable tangle of meaningful questions that held no answer. Devon had opened a new world to her. A world where the unknowable became known through feeling, not thinking. When he had smiled at her, his whole being would light up like a shooting star, and she knew then what was true. Adam couldn’t see it like that, never found a way in, to be a part of that wonderful mystery. They had split on this and never found a way back. He had discounted their son and, because of that, carelessly lost him that hellish day on the beach at Seal Cove.

This sudden understanding shocked her. She gasped. She had not been able to place the pieces together in this way, like her equations, that made sense. But now, she could see the algorithm. Her attention turned back to Adam’s questioning. He was telling the story, as he saw it.

‘And was there a time when you began to fear for your safety?’ the DA asked.

‘After the accident, Clair didn’t sleep. She would roam the house all night, sit in Devon’s room, on the floor or lie in his bed. She had become obsessed with watching the Weather Channel, following storms all over the world. She had stopped eating meals. I would find her standing at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cold cereal or microwave noodles in front of her, forgotten. She had tried to return to work. She would leave the house in the morning, dressed for work, but she would return earlier than normal. Then her pacing would begin again. If I tried to help, she would either shun me or scream at me that I had already done enough harm. Not to try to do any more. Once I did wake up and find her standing over me, just staring down at me. I wasn’t afraid for my safety so much as for her own. It was unnerving, though. I knew she needed to see a therapist, but she refused.’

‘And that day, September the twentieth, was there anything different about her?’ the DA continued his questioning.

‘She did seem happier. When she came in from work or wherever she went during the day. I had heard from colleagues that she would leave campus right after her class, missing her student advising sessions, department faculty meetings. But I never knew where she went. And yeah, that day, she had been more, well, just there. She had offered to make me a drink, fixed me my favorite snack, cheese toast. I had thought maybe things were turning around for her, for us.’

Adam had been speaking directly to the judge, not looking around the small, crowded room. Clair stared hard at him, willing his eyes to reach hers. This wasn’t how she remembered it, not at all. Clair heard her name being called.

‘Dr Mercer, do you want to speak to the court?’ her attorney was asking.

Clair started to stand, then settled, feeling all energy leaving her body like air from a released balloon. She folded her hands between her legs, as though they were startled birds that might fly away. Her heart was racing. She felt her breath catch in her throat, and was afraid she might be sick.

‘No, I have nothing to say. I don’t care what you do with me. Send me away, leave me here. It’s all the same.’ Looking at Adam she said, ‘I don’t want to kill you anymore, Adam. If that is worrying you. I see now that was wrong. I’m to blame more than you. You never even wanted Devon so why should I have expected