Words fell on Deaf Ears

“It wasn’t me; I swear! They took him - I was bound up and couldn’t help him.”

“Little green men you say?” scoffed the sheriff.  

“Grey men with black eyes!”

“Young lady, I have heard some stories in my time but yours takes the cake. You are asking us to believe that you and your brother saw a flying saucer in the field and “beings” came out from it, bound you up, and took your brother. Is that right?”

“Yes! Honestly!”

Sheriff Wilson did not believe her. Her protests fell on deaf ears.

“Take her away!”

Young Susan was led away to a jail cell to await her trial. Sheriff Wilson eyed the $50 bill that was in his wallet - a “gift” from the girl’s stepfather. Jason Parker was well known in the town and highly influential but was eager to discredit his stepdaughter. Sheriff Wilson had a nice ring to it, janitor Wilson didn’t. He would call the department of human services in the morning and get them to send an attorney for the girl. That was the right thing to do, even though he was sure the girl was just making the story up.

Susan repeated the story to the attorney, and it seemed like he believed her. At last, a glimmer of hope. Susan’s brother Sammy had been missing for three weeks and everyone wanted Susan punished, even her family thought she was lying. The only visitor she got while in jail was her attorney. She would appear in court the following week. Susan’s story never wavered, and she kept protesting her innocence, but her words fell on deaf ears.

“It wasn’t me; I swear!” she said in court.

Judge Joshua had heard that so many times while hearing cases he had lost count, but rarely from a seventeen year old girl. Circumstantial evidence, yes, but he had been “approached” by the girl’s influential father to hand down an appropriate sentence and make it quick. It pained him to speak the words:

“Susan Parker, it is the judgement of this court that you be sent to the Bridgewater State Hospital for the criminally insane until you are willing to tell the authorities where you hid the body of your brother.”

The judge could still hear the girl protesting her innocence as she was led away. Her cries would haunt him for many years. Jason Parker, the girl’s father, gave Joshua a nod. Joshua just looked away; he was not sure he had done the right thing but would have to live with his decision. Joshua had nightmares about the heartbreaking or terrifying cases he heard, and Susan Parker’s case would certainly be one of them.  

Susan’s defense attorney was irate - how could the judge side with the prosecution? That was the insanity in this case, not his client. He would find the girl’s brother and make sure her name was cleared if it were the last thing he did. He believed Susan, but no one else in the town did. Most likely it was because he could relate to her - he was often blamed for his brother’s “pranks” because was older and therefore “knew better”. His client was destined to be valedictorian in 2015, now that was never going to happen. Ostracized by her classmates and the entire town just for telling her story. It was sad. The best he could do was to insist that she be put in solitary confinement for her own protection as most of the “residents” were men.

Sammy Parker was three years younger than Susan and got up to mischief whenever he had the chance. Since the two children were always together it was Susan who got the blame - she was older and therefore more responsible. Whatever he did, it was her fault. Now she was alone in a small cell with only her memories and thoughts for company. Her worst memory was the forest fire when he played with matches in the woods by their house. Protesting her innocence always made the punishment worse. Her brother could do no wrong in their parents’ eyes. She would remember the fire beating for years - it hurt when she sat down for weeks afterward. He had dropped the match when she tried to take the book of matches away from him and the flames had spread quickly so part of her accepted the blame - if she hadn’t done anything, the fire would not have started. Tears stung Susan’s eyes as she sat in the cell. She wasn’t even allowed writing materials in case she stabbed herself with the pen. Her meals were handed to her on a tray from a slit in the middle of the door. She was allowed no visitors, no contact with any of the other prisoners, for her own safety they kept telling her. Protests of innocence fell on deaf ears, just as it had always done.

Four years later a dazed young man walked up to the Parker house. Jason Parker answered the door and his jaw dropped.

“You! How? Where? Why…”

“I will explain everything but first I need to find my sister - where is she?”

“She told us you were abducted. We didn’t believe her, so she was sent to the state hospital. We hear she is being taken care of. Changes in the system have made it so she can write in a journal now and receive treatment from a psychiatrist. We haven’t visited at all and had given up hope of finding you.”

“No, it can’t be! She’s innocent! I was taken! All I can remember is seeing Susan bound and gagged and being dragged away by a figure with big black eyes up a ramp into a room with lots of computer screens and wires. I don’t remember anything else until I woke up in the field this afternoon. I don't even know what day it is.” 

Sammy’s words fell on deaf ears, just like his sister’s words had done. Almost miraculously, the Parker’s neighbor Mr. Littlestone, who was Susan’s attorney, drove past and recognized the teen. He immediately contacted the judge and filed the paperwork to obtain Susan’s pardon and release. Massachusetts held too many bad memories for both, so Sammy and Susan moved to Pennsylvania. Susan married into an Amish family and became a best-selling author. Her stories were inspirational, but always had a supernatural twist. Sammy went to work for the FBI as a special operations agent for “out there” cases. They made a pact never to talk about the summer of 2014 and the terrors they experienced and never return to their hometown of Hadley, Massachusetts. Popular with visitors because of its association with the Salem witch trials it may be, but it was not for them.