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you." Maybe my boss was right. Perhaps work was the best thing for me.
God knows I needed something. It was day two of the trial. I had already
presented sufficient testimony to guarantee a 'guilty' verdict. Harrison
refused counsel and he wouldn't speak in his own defense. He was obviously
guilty, but it still bothered me to send a man to hang. I read, and
re-read the files, but I still couldn't understand why a decorated combat
veteran would act the way he did. I packed up the case files and poured
myself some fresh coffee. The large mug was warm and it felt good against
my palm. Keith always liked this mug. I sipped my hot coffee and stood
next to the large window, which overlooked our front yard. I had often
stood in this very spot while I waited on Keith to come home. I stared
out the window, as if I half expected to see him skipping up the steps.
I sipped more coffee and wondered how I was going to make it. I was
wearing a major's uniform, but I was no soldier and neither was Keith.
I couldn't stop wondering why he had volunteered for combat duty. He
was no fighter. I kept wishing he had stayed in the Judge Advocate's
office. My mind was chasing the same dead ends, but I couldn't stop
myself. I was lost in a vicious circle of hopeless wishes and painful
memories. Before I sank into a complete depression, my shuttle landed
on the lawn, and my driver smiled and waved at me. I put Keith's favorite
mug in the sink and picked up my files. When I opened the front door,
a sharp cool breeze swept my face. I was glad I still had my hair braided.
That wind would have blown it all over the place. I always braided my
hair when Keith was away. I just hadn't felt like unbraiding it. The
shuttle took me the short distance to the main court building. Through
the observation windows I could see hundreds of soldiers milling around
outside. "The Harrison case is drawing a lot of attention," my driver
said. "Do you want me to walk you in?" "No, it's okay. I'll be alright,"
I said with a quick nod. "Hey, why don't you wear Keith's gold bars?
Those soldiers would respect that." Keith's captain's bars were attached
to a black armband. I carried the armband everywhere I went, but I had
never put it on. It just didn't feel right. "Good luck," my driver said
as I closed the shuttle door. The soldiers could see me as I walked
to the building and they each focused t
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