Chapter Five, phew....
Might leave it here for a bit and see what comes of this....
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Thanks <3
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14 May 1985 – Tuesday
Richmond, Kentucky
“He wouldn’t do that.” Charlotte said with such conviction the doctor should have believed her.
“He confessed.” Lawrence replied.
Charlotte stared at her husband. He was upset. She could tell that much by his body language. He sat back in his chair. Arms crossed and legs turned away from her. He must have been upset about Cole.
“He’s not like that.” She said again. “He must be confused about the accident.” She was convinced that Eliot had not crashed the car on purpose. She knew there was no way he had intentionally done it to harm Cole. “We have to go back to his room and take a psychiatrist to analyse him.”
Lawrence insisted, “It will not make a difference.”
Charlotte was horrified. “No, he is innocent.”
Lawrence sighed heavily. “I am not interested in discussing this right now. We have a funeral to arrange for our son.”
“And we have another son in hospital with the threat of prison over his head.” Charlotte said.
“He is not my son.” Lawrence stood. “He was brought into our family by your mother. Adrienne didn’t want him so she pushed him at us.”
“Eliot is our son.” She repeated. She remembered the pregnancy. She remembered his birth.
“He is not!” Lawrence shouted. “You have convinced yourself. I don’t care any more Charlotte. I am going home to our daughter and then arranging Cole’s funeral myself. If you do not wish to join me, then you can stay here with that...” He gestured with his arm towards the general direction of Eliot’s room. He stopped and looked down at the doctor.
Charlotte’s eyes followed his gaze.
The doctor looked shocked. His eyebrows were so high they almost reached his hairline. His mouth was an ‘O’.
Lawrence sighed again, committing himself to finish the sentence. “Murderer.”
Charlotte gasped. Her hand shot to her mouth.
Her husband walked out the door. She started to cry.
The doctor quietly rose from his chair and escaped the room as fast as he could make his legs carry him.
Eliot lay awake in the bed. He was smiling. He was happy. He wasn’t itchy anymore; even if he were though, he wouldn’t have been able to scratch. His arms were at his sides, there were straps holding them down tight. He was smiling.
Eliot started to giggle.
The nurse in his room wasn’t watching him. She was reading her magazine. There was a policeman at the door. He was looking out the window.
Eliot stopped giggling.
“Why are you here?” He asked, lifting his head to look at the man by the door. He didn’t even acknowledge Eliot had spoken.
Eliot called louder. “Hey dick face, why are you in my room?”
The officer’s eyes slid to his, but still did not speak.
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