Left for Garbage

gather up the papers she had spilled. Grabbing one, seemingly at random, he began reading aloud, “Medical report from some guy named Dr. Green at Wayne State, Denise. Can I use the language in it, Denise, or do you need me to break this down into pop-up book form so you’ll be able to understand it?”
    “Fuck you,” Denise said sullenly.
    “I’ll take that as a ‘Go ahead, Salvatore, I’ll try to follow you’.”
    Denise leaned back in her chair and pretended to ignore him, but she heard well enough.
    Salvatore cleared his throat. “Okay, I’ll try to be succinct. Every person is born with four sutures in their skull. The one that matters here is one called the sagittal suture. It’s like an expansion joint for our skulls which allows the skull to expand as the brain grows in child and adult development. Under normal conditions, this sagittal suture will not begin to close until about the twentieth year of life and will not finish closing until a person’s forties or fifties. Are you with me so far, Denise?”
    Denise yawned. “Well , I don’t have anything better to do since my tennis lesson got cancelled. I’m listening but I don’t know what it’s got to do with me.”
    Salvatore sighed and answered her ponderously. “According to Dr. Green, Deeley’s sagittal suture was starting to close already.”
    Denise shrugged. “So she was advanced, just like me.” She finished on a laugh which Salvatore, to her annoyance, ignored.
    “Denise, a premature closing is not a good thing. I’ll just read on, shall I?”
    Denise waved her hand. “If you want. I don’t care.”
    “I wish you did,” he said heavily, before continuing to read. “When the sagittal suture is closed prematurely , there are significant birth defects: blindness, retardation, disfigurement and –“
    Denise cut him off, tiring of the information quickly. “Well, she didn’t have any of those, Salvatore, so I guess Dr. Gr een is either a liar or a moron … maybe both,” she finished disgustedly.
    “You need to learn to listen, Denise. His report doesn’t say she was born like that. He says there were marked signs that it was beginning to close prematurely.”
    Denise rolled her eyes. “Again, so ?”
    “So,” Salvatore continued, “s o he researched cases where this had happened before and this is his conclusion: Deeley Brown was not born with any of the signs of a premature sagittal suture. She did not have the flat headedness we see in these children. ”
    Denise nodded self-righteously.
    Salvatore ignored her and continued reading, “ Then, as a scientist, I must ask what caused the premature closure in Deeley Brown? My conclusion is that the child was forced, over some period of time, a time period lasting several months or longer, to often be forced to lie on her back, maybe with her head restrained, maybe under sedation, maybe because she was terrorized, or possibly because she was so exhausted she often fell asleep in an awkward, unnatural and forced position. Due to her extreme youth this caused an unusual early fusing but not one which is related to disease .”
    Salvatore stood and moved in front of where Denise sat, and stared down at her until she reluctantly met his eyes.
    When she did, he said softly, “In short, Dr. Green feels that this proves non-specific but still clear evidence of chronic child abuse, Denise, and any way you slice it, when the jury hears this, they are going to want to inject you themselves. So, anything you want to say now? And I mean anything , as long as it’s not another fucking Manny the nanny story, because it will be great to hear something, because as of right now my entire opening statement consists of the following words: Ladies and Gentleman of the jury, on behalf of my client, Denise Brown, I would like to plead not guilty by reason of insanity .”
    Stung, Denise blurted out, “Insanity? You’re the one who’s insane if that’s what you think I’ll go for. My God, Salvatore, what’s wrong with you? For almost three years you’ve been telling me it would be an acquittal as soon as we went to trial, and now you want to say I’m crazy? That’s your whole defense? What’s happened to you?”
    Salvatore shrugged and crossed back to his chair. He stayed silent while he fashioned the damning report from Dr. Green into a small paper airplane and tossed it up in the air. Feeling trapped, Denise watched him.
    Salvatore did not look at her as his eyes trailed the