Chapter 14 Chapter Thirteen

When Toy opened her eyes again, the morning sunlight flooded the room through the windows, and a nurse was taking her pulse, blood pressure, and temperature. "Very good," she said. "Would you like some breakfast?" "No," Troy said, "leave me alone. I just want to sleep." Ethel Meyers suddenly appeared at her bedside, and the nurse was gone. "Good morning, sweetheart. Are you resting well?" "Who else is there?" Troy asked, seeing no one else but checking to be sure.She didn't want to see Stephen.Not now, never. "Well, no one, honey. Look," her mother said, holding up a plastic bag, "all these letters are for you."

"What did you say?" "They all come from your admirers. And, Toy, they come from all over the world. Children, old people, say the same thing." "What? Say I'm a child kidnapper and deserve death." "No," her mother shook her head and put the plastic bag on the floor. "Of course, I don't read every letter. I don't have time, but Troy, in all the letters I've read, people think they saw over you, thinking you helped them in some way." Toy was startled.This must be her wild fantasy again.The only difference was that this time her mother was by her side as she passed through the penumbra.

"Here," said her mother, holding a letter in front of her, "I'll read it to you. This little girl lives in Japan. She sent this letter through Western Union. She must be very bright, Because she writes excellent English. 'Dear Angel'" - Troy's mother paused and glanced at Troy over her glasses - "how sweet! She calls you an angel. Well, we Go on.' I was playing in the creek next to our house, and suddenly I slipped and fell and couldn't get out. You came and pulled me out. You wore a sweatshirt with a big A and a halo, It's so beautiful! My mother said if you hadn't saved me, I would have drowned. I love you, Miss Angel! Miko. 'What are you thinking, Troy? Isn't this lovely?' Troy She didn't make a sound, she was immersed in the memories.She remembered something, a little girl with dark hair, with the most perfect hands and feet she had ever seen, a small river, a strange house, everything seemed to be close at hand.

When did she have this dream?she asked herself.Can't remember.Too many—such dreams, innocent children. "Do you want me to read you another one?" her mother asked. Troy's heart was warm and sweet, calm and restless.She stood up, leaned on the pillow, and looked at her mother. "I love you, Mom," she said, "no matter what happens, I love you and will always love you. You are the best mother in the world." "I love you too, baby," she said, "but you haven't answered my words yet. Would you like me to read you another letter? They're so sweet, so cute, they'll make you feel good stand up."

Troy studied her mother's benevolent face.Doesn't she want to know why these people are writing to her daughter?Doesn't she want to know why her daughter is being prosecuted for murder?Did she not care at all that her daughter might spend the rest of her life in prison?The answer to all of these questions is "no". Her mother was bending over the letters now. "Read them all." said Toy. "What? You say read them all? All these letters? Oh my God there are so many! So many letters from lovely children." "Read them all, mother. We're not going anywhere."

Her mother smiled, and took out a handful of letters from the bag: "That's exactly what I thought, dear." As Miles Spencer's driver pulled up in front of Roosevelt Hospital on Tuesday afternoon, at least fifty people gathered on the side of the road, many holding placards.The placard read: "Release the Angels!" Several people had placards that were even more special, associating his client not only with the Angels but also with the California Angels.As Miles peered squinting through the tinted windows of his limousine, he realized these people had only been attracted by a TV show, a few newsreel clips, and a few newspaper articles.It's all unbelievable.But of course, this is Manhattan, he told himself smugly.There are lunatics around every corner.

As soon as he got out of the car, a man with a long beard pounced on him, almost knocking him to the ground. "They crucified Jesus, and now they are trying to imprison his angels." Miles beat him off, wiped his hands on his clothes, and headed for the hospital.After registering, he pushed his way through the long line to the front. "I want to see Toy Johnson." "You and the rest of the world," said the woman, a silver-haired Brillopad-looking woman in a pink and white volunteer uniform. He glanced back at the long line of people. "All these people are waiting to see Toy Johnson?"

"That's what they say. But you can't see her. No one can see her. She's under guard. She's a prisoner, you know?" "Yes, I know," Miles said, "I'm her lawyer and I have to see her. It's urgent." She stared at him. "Don't lie to me," she sighed, "I've had a busy day." Miles laughed.She reminded him of his mother. "Here." As he spoke, he slammed his business card on the table. Just then a pudgy woman with thick black hair came up to him carrying a small suitcase with an excited expression on her face.

"I heard you say you were Toy Johnson's lawyer," she said breathlessly, "and you took me to her. I'm her best friend, and I've been waiting here for hours. I'll Gotta catch a plane." "Sorry." As he spoke, he gave Sylvia a disgusted look, then turned and walked away. "No," she cried, "I've got to see her and tell her I'm waiting. See if she can get them to let me in." Miles glanced back, but didn't stop.Sylvia yelled again, but he couldn't catch what she was saying. "What?" He was a little annoyed by this weird woman messing around.

"Tell her I love her," Sylvia said. "Please, tell her I'm praying for her and everything will be alright." Miles continued to walk forward, and after a while, he stood at the door of the ward where Toy lived.He talked to the police officer on guard, and then he opened the door and walked in, as nervous as he was the day he took the bar exam. "Mrs. Johnson," he said, smiling faintly, "I am your attorney, Miles Spencer." He opened his mouth wide in surprise: the woman on the bed was so petite, so childlike.Her red hair fell loose on the pillow, she had no makeup on her face, and her eyes seemed to see right through him.Suddenly, he felt a chill and took a few steps back from the bed.

"This is my mother, Ethel Meyers." "Nice to meet you." He said, shaking her bony hand hard, then turned his eyes back to Troy. "Oh, I have some good news. I dare say it's the first good news of the day, huh?" Troy Neither she nor her mother said anything, just looked at him.Both of them had faint smiles on their faces. "We managed to track down Officer Kramer from the Department of Transportation and he confirmed your statement that he saw you on the day of the fire." "Isn't that nice, Troy?" her mother said, stroking her arm. "Does that mean they'll let me go?" "Oh, not exactly. I mean, it's going to take a few days. Because of your condition, we managed to postpone the extradition hearing until Thursday. The hospital promised you'd be fine by then. We're talking to the Kansas Authorities will contact them and they will send someone to take affidavits from Officer Kramer and the entire hospital staff. They will have to wait for their people to report on that tape edit." "What report?" asked Troy, who was holding her mother's hand at the moment. "Their relevant experts will compare the woman on the video with the video taken on the day you were arrested. If the two do not match, then the case is closed." "What about the case in New York?" "Well," he said slowly, "I think those charges are still pending. However, I am very confident that we can overturn the formal charges based on the child's testimony. I plan to have her as a witness next week. Her testimony will Pretty convincing." "Lucy?" Troy asked, green eyes shining. "How is she? I've been worrying about her." "She's fine." Miles hesitated and said he couldn't take his eyes off Troy's face.There was something special about her, he thought. "Mrs. Johnson," he said, looking at her eagerly, "could your mother leave the room for a few minutes so we can discuss your case." "Why?" Troy asked. "You can say whatever you want. I have nothing to hide." "I... I, well, frankly, I wanted to ask you a few personal questions." "Oh, really?" Troy said, looking at him suspiciously. "What kind of question?" "It's all curious," he said, walking to the window and looking down at the crowd that had gathered on the sidewalk.Either he was delusional, the crowd was twice as big as when he first arrived.Right now, new people are getting out of taxis or their cars, and they are constantly pouring into the crowd. "Why are those people standing there?" he said without thinking. "Of course they don't believe in angels, do they? That's absurd!" Troy exchanged a knowing look with her mother, and said, "Why is it absurd?" ?” "Well, you know that," Miles said, turning his back, eyes still on the crowd below, "angels are just fantasy, folklore. Anyone in their right mind knows that angels don't exist." "Have you ever read the Bible?" Troy asked him. Miles turned and faced her: "Of course I read it." "But you don't believe it, do you?" The lawyer's face turned from white to red, and from red to white again, and for a moment he looked as if he were ill. "I don't want to answer that question." he said angrily. Troy was an intuitive person, and her gut told her she didn't like this guy.Something in him repelled her, though she couldn't quite make out what it was.Suddenly, she saw it.A strange red light emanated from his body, as if he was standing in purgatory.Troy immediately understood what it was, self-serving, cynical, greedy and vicious.This man cared no more about her fate than he cared about anyone else's. All he cared about was himself. Approaching the bed, Miles Spencer opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again.After a while, he tried to start the conversation again. "If you... knew what... I, um, I think..." He seemed to be unable to remember what he wanted to say. Troy sat up from the bed: "I can only give you one suggestion. You said you read the Bible, right? Did you say so?" "Well, I did, but—" "When did that happen?" "Oh," he relaxed a little, but he still smiled nervously, "it was when I was a child." She hadn't touched him at all, but Miles Spencer couldn't help touching his face, as if he'd been slapped.She knows everything, he told himself.At this moment, he was completely convinced that the woman he represented was a mysterious and incredible creation.He was so sure of it that he thought he would hold up a placard and join the crowd on the street. She saw something deep inside him that no one had seen before—saw the small, shy boy whose father was a Methodist minister in a small Pennsylvania town.Images of his father when he preached came back to him, and he even felt the soft texture of the parchment Bible he always held in his hand.After listening to his father's sermon every Sunday, he always dreamed that one day he would become a pastor like his father and have his own congregation. "Have you read the Bible?" his father always asked him before he went to bed.Sometimes Miles would read the chapters assigned by his father and then forget what he had read. "Then you'd better read it again." His father would say so. He was so devout then, so caring for others.Where did all this go?How did he lose it? Yes, Troy knew what he wanted to know, what he needed to save himself from the eternal hell, he thought.And, she knew he had never in his life wanted to know more.Who is this ethereal elf who can appear in two places at the same time?A creation that inspired them all?Where did she come from, and where is she going? She understands everything, but she obviously won't tell him.Somehow, she read his heart and found him worthless. A few minutes later, when the lawyer shuffled out of the ward, the guard at the door looked up, almost identifying the man who had come out with the man who had gone in.The man who just entered had a dignified demeanor, with his head held high and his chest held high, with a majestic and solemn expression on his face.And now the man who was walking alone along the corridor was hunched over, gray-headed, just walking forward mechanically.The police officer opened the door of the ward to see if anyone else was inside: "Is everything normal?" "Yes," said Troy's mother politely, "you've done a good job, officer." After the man's head flinched, Troy's mother held up a letter: "Go to the next one, sweetie? Oops, it's from Arizona." At night, after his mother had left, Troy was about to fall asleep when the door slammed open and Sylvia rushed in. "Hush—" She glanced back toward the door, and said in a low voice, "I'm a nurse, and look! That's the only way I can get in." Troy looked at her friend and couldn't help laughing.I saw Sylvia wearing a small nurse's cap with a red cross on her head, a small stethoscope hanging around her neck, wearing a white blouse and white trousers about two sizes smaller. "Is that plastic?" Troy "clucked" grinning, fingering the stethoscope. "good." As Sylvia spoke, she picked up the stethoscope and placed it on Toy's forehead. "It's okay, there's nothing in there." Seconds later she said, making Troy giggle again. "Where did you get that hat?" Troy finally stopped laughing. "Did you steal it from a little nurse or something?" "Oh, this?" Sylvia grinned at Troy. "They wouldn't let me in, so I went and bought a kid's Halloween costume. Since there was nothing for me, I wore my own white smock, and found these trousers in a thrift store." She stopped talking and twisted her buttocks, "It's a little tight, huh?" "Just a little tighter." Toy said, turning his head away and laughing again. "Damn it!" said Sylvia, tugging at her crotch. "This is a discounted price. I thought I picked a big deal." Having said that, Sylvia's face turned serious, and she sat down on the edge of Troy's bed, "I missed the plane." "What's going on?" Troy asked with concern. "You have to go back to school tomorrow. Because of me, someone has to—" "What's going on?" cried Sylvia, shaking her head. "My best friend is in the hospital and the police charged her with murder. How can I not be worried, huh? What do you think? I'll just go home and put Did you forget about it?" "I'm fine," Troy said, "Really, Sylvia. I'm fine. They put a pacemaker in me, so it should be fixed once and for all. I want you to go back, I want you to take my place Go see Maggie. I dreamed about her the other day and I was worried." "Oh, really?" Sylvia squinted at Troy. "What about the police? I just went there to testify, and they were very rude, Troy. They're convinced you did all those horrible things." thing." "They couldn't prove it," Troy said immediately. "I was having a heart attack at the time of the Kansas fire. You were with me, remember? You told them, didn't you?" "Of course I told them," said Sylvia, "but they didn't believe me. They thought I was lying and tried to cover you." Sylvia was silent for a while, and finally said, "I've been thinking and thinking, and I can't figure out what's going on. The newspaper said there was a video of you rescuing the boy. And the whole thing is exactly what you said : The fire, the school, and even the wilderness. How could this happen?" Troy just shrugged with a mischievous look on his face. Sylvia took a deep breath. "Oh my God," she said aloud, "I'm sitting here talking to you like you're a mortal, but you're not, you've actually been there, haven't you?" Troy nodded. Sylvia jumped up and held Troy's head tightly in her arms, her eyes wide with surprise. "I see," she said, "this is a miracle. I just can't believe that you are my friend, that someone so extraordinary would want to be with me." "I love you, Sylvia," murmured Troy, resting his head on her chest.At this moment, Sylvia was wrapping her arms around her neck, almost strangling her, and when she finally let her go, Troy looked up: "We can't be together if you transfer to another school." Sylvia put her hands on her hips: "What are you talking about? Transfer? Who said transfer? I never wanted to leave Jefferson." She shook her head, "I was only joking when I said that." "No, you're not joking." Toy didn't let up. "Yes, I'm kidding," Sylvia argued. "I love Jefferson. I love being with those kids. They need me, why would I ask for a transfer?" "They do need you," Toy said. "They want someone with a positive outlook on life and a sense of humor." She smiled and added, "There were a lot of accidents in Jefferson, and you were good at artificial respiration." Sylvia puffed out her chest, full of pride: "I did a good job, didn't I? I thought I was going to panic." "You've done a great job," Troy said earnestly. "I owe you my life, Sylvia. I mean it." Seeing her friend's tears, Troy felt her own eyes water too. "Let's go," she urged Sylvia, "If you go now, you can catch the plane back tonight." "But I can't leave you." Sylvia sobbed. "Go!" said Troy, more firmly than before. "Go, Sylvia! You are needed at school. We can't be both. You have to go back!" "I want you to know that I believe in you," she whispered, taking Troy's hand. "I keep thinking, you're an angel, I mean, not really an angel, but someone good enough to get into them." Now, all these people know too, which is good, they know what an extraordinary person you are!" Troy leaned forward and kissed her forehead.Silvia stood up and prepared to leave, but hesitated.At the door, she stopped and looked back at Toy with a puzzled expression on her face. "Does that mean I'm no longer a Jew?" "I don't think so, Sylvia." Toy forced a smile, "Why do you say such stupid things?" "Oh, if you're an angel, and I believe you are," she mused, "I don't know, the whole thing doesn't seem quite kosher." "Look," said Troy eagerly, "I can't explain what's happened to me. But I can tell you one thing. I believe this ship is helmed, and there are special arrangements for all of us, Searle Via. I don't think it's a real problem if we're Jewish or Mormon or whatever. You know what I mean?" "I totally understand," Sylvia's eyes flashed a look of determination, "I understand that I want to go back to that school and be the best teacher those kids have ever seen." Before Troy could say anything, Sylvia turned around and disappeared at the door. The next morning, Toy told her mother she wanted to see Stephen.As her mother went down the corridor to call him, Dr. Esteban dropped by and told Troy that he would have to release her back to the detention facility tomorrow. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I did my best. They're going to put you in their infirmary, but..." "I get it," Troy said, "and I want to thank you for everything you've done for me." As soon as he was gone, Troy pushed back the tray on the bed, tried to comb his hair, and put on some lipstick.She didn't want Stephen to see her listless, she wanted him to see her fine. This afternoon, Stephen stood by his wife's bed.Before he arrived, Toy had been allowed to get out of bed and walk the aisles under the watchful eye of the guards.Now, she was wearing a bathrobe, sitting on the bed with her back against the pillows. With a straight face, he said coldly, "You want me to come, and here I am. What's the matter?" "I left some stuff in the hotel safe. Please get it out for me when you check out and get home. There's a videotape, I don't remember what else. But promise me you'll keep it safe for me. Maybe Very important." She stopped talking and handed him something, "This is the key." "Is that why you called me here?" he said angrily. "What? You think you're a celebrity now and I'm your squire?" "I've made up my mind to divorce, Stephen." Troy herself was taken aback when she finally said it.Trying to keep her composure, she said in a low voice, "I know you've been unhappy for years. I don't know why. I mean, I tried to do everything you asked of me. I guess that's not the case." .” He looked at her without a word, his eyes dim and distant. "I'm not going to bankrupt you or anything," Toy continued. "You can keep having the house, the car, everything. Just give me enough to pay the lawyers and start a new life." "What are you going to do?" Troy didn't answer him.It is useless to say more.Gone are the days of a heart-to-heart bond. "I want you to know that I really loved you," she said softly. "The time when I married you was the happiest day of my life." His face softened, and he shuffled back and forth on the oilcloth floor: "I still love you, Troy, but I don't think you love me anymore. It seems like everything I've done or said lately has been wrong." .” "I never said that." Troy looked for his eyes as he spoke. "Well, it shows in your actions. I mean, I'm only worried about your health. I knew something terrible was going to happen. Of course, I never thought you'd be arrested for murder. If you don't Walk away like a fool, none of this will happen. You should stay home, where you belong." "Listen to what you just said!" said Troy immediately. "Think about it, Stephen, you treat me like an imbecile." He shook his head slowly. "No, Troy, you're wrong. I think you're too fragile, too kind for the world we live in. I'm just afraid, you know, that somebody's going to hurt you." When he said this, he choked up, with tears in his eyes, and had to stop talking, "You have paid so much, and there is nothing left. You must hate me for wanting to protect you?" "No," Troy said, with a deep sigh, "I don't blame you. I understand, Stephen. Really, I understand." "Then why do you still want a divorce?" Tears flowed down from Toy's face: "I just know it's time." She reached for a tissue. "What time is it?" he asked. "It's time for us to break up." she whispered. "I see," he said stiffly, "then I think we're going to break up." "I think so." Troy said sadly, "But, can you give me a hug? Just a few minutes. I just want you to hug me." Stephen came and sat down on the edge of the bed next to his wife. Then, he held her slender body in his arms. "Is it really that bad?" he whispered. "I give you everything I can. We have a beautiful house, nice clothes and a new car." "Yes, Stephen," Troy said softly, "but you didn't give me one thing I needed." His face was contorted with agony: "Tell me what you need and I didn't give you! Tell me!" "you do not believe me." Troy turned away as her husband pushed her onto the bed.When she turned her head, she saw that the door had closed and Stephen was gone.The following day, they transferred Toy to the infirmary of the detention facility.In the afternoon, she was allowed to see guests.Sitting in the small meeting room, still in pajamas and slippers, Toy looked at Jeff McDonald: "What do you want me to do?" "I want you to go on screen," he said, "and tell the world what you just told me. How you had a heart attack, how those dreams were made. How these dreams became real events. Our audience All over the world. We're going to do a 90-minute special that will air in prime time." The reporter leaned back in his chair and sighed.For all he knew, the woman in front of him was a dangerous criminal or at least a madman, and the public didn't want to hear that.Like or any other silly sci-fi flick, they wanted to believe she was an angel, so Field and the rest of CNN's bigwigs decided to let them get it.If the public wants to see serials about killers, it's shown to them.They wanted angels, and they had them.He felt like he had been stung in the ass.He was doing explosive detective work, and they were trying to turn it into vulgar journalism. "No," Troy said, "I can't. First of all, I'm in prison." "That's not a problem," he said impatiently. "I've already spoken to the warden, and we're here to shoot this part of your show." "I have no idea." said Toy.She remembered the man, and remembered him being with the photographer the day she was arrested.It was him who told her to turn around so they could snap her face.And now he's sitting here asking her to be on national television. "Look," MacDonald said, leaning forward, "this is your chance to show the world who you are and tell your story from your perspective." He paused, "This is a good chance for you to prove your innocence. If these cases are not tried, who knows whether you are guilty or not." Troy understood what he was talking about.What he meant was that she would always be a criminal who kidnapped children and set fire to a school building full of them.No matter what she did, the shadow will always hang over her head. Toy wondered if she would lose her job, and if so, whether other school boards would hire her. "All right," she said at last, "that's it." "Fantastic!" said MacDonald, rising to take her hand. "We'll be fully prepared. Maybe tomorrow, will you?" "I don't think it's a problem," Troy said. "What do I have to do?" "Just answer the questions truthfully." "Okay," Troy nodded, and then thought of something: "I want my mother to be there." Macdonald frowned.Everyone will make a request.At least she didn't ask for money like everyone else.He knows that if they don't report first, other TV stations and film studios will compete to buy TV and movie shooting rights.These days, she is the biggest news in the country.Whatever this woman wanted, she got it. "Let's see if we can arrange it." He said. When Sandy Hawkins came to work the next morning, more than 200 people gathered in front of the prison, everyone holding signs that read "Free the Angels."The NYPD has quickly dispatched officers to monitor the crowd. "How long have they been there?" Sandy asked the officer at the watch booth. "All night. They stand there with candles." "My God," she said, "they must have heard the news that there's going to be a video here today. You know, everybody wants to be on TV." "Have you seen those people?" said the male officer, staring across the street from his post.Before Sandy could answer, he went on, "There were children, old people, women, everyone broke their normal lives and came in there. Do you know that man in the black raincoat? That's Senator Weissbarth. He It was the last to join the crowd." "I don't know," Sandy said, peering through the glass with a cup of coffee in his hand. "What is he doing standing there?" "I bet he lost interest in alcohol from the moment he saw her. He seems to have been battling alcoholism for years, and he has a bad liver. Did you see the reports about him? All It was published in every newspaper. I think she saved his life. Is this more convincing than anything else?" "Yeah," Sandy said, sarcasm in his voice, "totally insane. That's the way it is." The police officer turned his chair and looked at the tall and strong female guard, "Can you take me in to meet her?" "Meet who?" Sandy asked absently, unable to take her eyes off the crowd across the street. "You know." he said coyly. She shook her head: "You, Zebo? Do you believe in that woman now?" "I didn't say I believed her. I just said I wanted to meet her. Who knows, maybe she's a bit of an angel. If she is, I want to prove it and make three wishes." After he finished speaking, he smiled, but it could be seen that the smile was forced.He is serious. "I think you're a little confused, Zeb. Angels won't keep your three wishes." Sandy said, thinking she had heard enough, got up and walked out of the prison to her shift. "That's a monster, fool." Sarah read every article about Toy Johnson in all the newspapers and magazines before showing it to Raymond.He was awake by the hour.He had spoken to her several times, and resumed painting.His eyes are no longer slack, but more and more alert.Sitting next to him on the attic floor with two glasses of wine and a half-eaten pizza in front of me.Sarah said, "We've got to do something, Raymond. She's going to be transferred to Kansas to stand trial for murder. Tomorrow is the hearing." She paused and looked him over. "I don't know what to do. I've called the hospital and the prison, but they won't let me talk to her." There were newspapers strewn all over the floor, and Raymond picked one up. "Look!" He pointed to a photo accompanying one of the reports. "I know," Sarah said, looking over his shoulder at the picture of his fingers, "that it's the boy she saved in Kansas." "Let's call him." Raymond said, looking frantically around the room. "Call the boy? He's hurt, Raymond. What can he do?" "He was able to tell the court exactly what was going on." Sarah scratched her head, thinking.His suggestion is not too far-fetched.If they could have persuaded Jason Cummings to fly to New York for Toy's hearing tomorrow, they might not have extradited her to Kansas.If anyone could prove to the authorities that Toy hadn't attempted to harm or kidnap the child, it must have been the child she had saved, she thought. "You may be on to something," Sarah said to Raymond. "Give me a piece of paper, and I'll see if I can get in touch with the kid's parents in Topic." "No," said Raymond firmly, standing up and looking down at Sarah, "I've got to do it myself."