Tangled Up in Blue

The Verdict

Keegan

In some ways, this doesn't even feel real. 

If someone had told me a year ago I'd be sitting in a courtroom on an Army base in the middle of Oklahoma, waiting to hear the fate of a boy I love so much I can sometimes barely breathe, I'd have laughed out loud.

It would have sounded to me like the plot of some outlandish romance novel. But here I am. 

Here we are, minutes away from hearing the verdict. 

And this is as real as it gets, even if I'd like to pretend it's all a bad dream.

I know Blue lied about what happened that day. I know that was wrong. 

He's not perfect; he's just a human being. 

And he was scared and ashamed of what happened. 

I know the consequences of his actions—the deaths of three soldiers—cannot be ignored. 

But what good will it do to lock Blue away?

What good will that do anybody? Why should his life be destroyed?

I'm praying, pleading, trying to negotiate with God or Fate or whatever entity my urgent thoughts are reaching out to, as if I have the power to change things. 

But I don't. All I can do is sit here and listen to the verdict. And then support Blue, no matter what happens next.

I'm trying to rein in my panic, but I can feel it riding up my spine. 

I can't even imagine how Blue is feeling. 

I stare at him, sitting rigidly next to Holmlund, wishing I could telepathically transmit feelings of hope and love. 

Blue went out of his way in the waiting room to communicate those feelings to me.

A side door opens, and the members of the panel file in. 

I focus desperately on their faces, searching for some signal that the verdict is in Blue's favor. 

But most of them are stone-faced; none are looking at Blue.

Once the panel is seated, the bailiff instructs everyone in the room to rise. 

The judge enters the courtroom, takes his seat, and everyone sits down again. The judge then asks the panel if they've reached a verdict.

A man with a buzz cut and ramrod straight posture is instantly on his feet. 

"Yes, sir, Your Honor. We have."

I see Blue's back rise and fall as he takes a deep breath. But it doesn't feel like I can do the same. 

My breath is stuck in my throat, and my heart is racing. There's a sharp, sudden pain in my stomach.

The judge instructs Blue to stand up, and he and Holmlund come to their feet.

Virginia grips my hand tightly, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her do the same to Maria. 

"Here we go," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. 

My grandmother cares more than I give her credit for. She probably always has.

The judge's voice seems to boom around the room. 

"On the charge of misbehavior before the enemy," he asks the panel foreman, "endangering the safety of the unit in violation of Article 99 of the UCMJ, how do you find?"

"We find the defendant not guilty."

The judge had warned everyone not to make any noise, but poor Maria can't help crying out. 

She claps her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound, but everyone turns to look at her. 

There's a moment when I think she might get thrown out of the courtroom. 

But she makes no further sound, and after giving her a stern look, the judge continues.

"On the charge of making false official statements under Article 107, UCMJ, how do you find?"

It's like everything gets soaked in a hideous slowness. The light in the room seems to dim. 

My tongue feels like it's swelling, like it won't fit into my mouth anymore. 

There's a strange, still moment where all I can hear is my own heartbeat pounding against my eardrums. 

Then every word the foreman says slams into my chest: 

"We find the defendant guilty."