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Curt's life takes a turn that he never expected, and he realizes that it's because he forgot something that didn't seem important at the time. He also discovers that others have forgotten things that are important and that turns out to both help him and hurt him.

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Mature or distressing themes. This story deals with abuse.

Chapter 17 — Curts Deposition

I answered Beth Wolman’s question about being ready to start my deposition.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

“Good. This should be short and simple. First, you will be sworn in, similar to when you’ll testify on the stand. Your testimony during the deposition is admissible in court, so it’s critical that you be honest and answer all questions truthfully, alright?”

“Yes, I understand.” And I did understand.

The swearing in was just like I’d heard a hundred times on TV shows, and was just as easy for me to respond. After I was sworn in Beth read my name and Mr. Williams address that she described as my current address, and asked if this information was correct, and I answered ‘yes’.

She asked, “Is your attorney present and if so please state his name.”

I replied, “Yes, my attorney is Michael Williams and he’s sitting next to me.”

“This deposition will be recorded. Do you understand that?”

“Yes.”

“A transcript of the audio recording of this deposition will be provided to you through your attorney. Now what I’m going to do is have my assistant read sections of your police interviews, and I will ask you if the statements are true and correct to your knowledge. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Her assistant read the police report including the transcript of my statements that Officer Brady recorded when the police came and rescued me from Don. That took almost no time because I didn’t say much before I passed out. Then they read the statements I made when I was interviewed by Office Brady in the hospital and the call I made to him the next morning. Her questions were mostly about the bat and when I traded it to Tom Williams (July 4th), the last time I saw the bat (July 4th), what traded to me for the bat (a Supertramp CD). Then she began asking more questions about the bat and the CD.

“Where did you get the bat?”

“It was a gift that I got last Christmas.”

“Who gave the bat to you?”

“My mom and Don Clarey gave me the bat.”

“What kind of bat is it?”

“It’s made of aluminum and is the kind used by high school baseball teams.”

“Why did you trade the bat for a CD?”

“I have no use for a baseball bat. I don’t play baseball. Tom plays baseball. He got two Supertramp CDs for his birthday and he offered to trade one of them to me for the bat.”

“So he knew you had the bat?”

“Yes. I told him about it when I saw him right after Christmas.”

“How often did you use the bat before you traded it to Tom?”

“Never. I don’t play baseball.”

“No pickup games?”

“No.”

“Where did you keep the bat when you had it?”

“In my bedroom, on the floor in my closet.”

“Was it always there?”

“From the time I took it to my bedroom on last Christmas day until July 4th when I saw Tom at his birthday party and agreed to exchange it for the Supertramp CD and got the bat and gave it to Tom.”

“When did you actually do the trade of the bat for the Supertramp CD?”

“July 4th, after Tom’s birthday party.”

“Do you still have the Supertramp CD?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the title of this CD?”

“The Very Best of Supertramp.”

“You said Tom received two copies of the Supertramp CD. Have you ever seen his other copy?”

“Yes, on his birthday.”

“Have you seen it since?”

“No.”

“Do you know if he still has his Supertramp CD?”

“No. That’s a question you’d have to ask Tom Williams.” Beth grinned and nodded after I answered. I understood why she was asking these questions about the bat. Don had lied about me hitting him with the bat as the reason he went after me. But the evidence is that I didn’t have the bat, so I couldn’t have hit it with him. I think Beth was happy that I was able to answer her questions so easily.

She switched to a different line of questioning. I could also understand why she asked me these questions.

“Are you gay?”

“No.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Do you date girls?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever had a sexual relationship with a boy?”

“No.”

“Have you ever had a sexual relationship with a girl?”

“No. Unfortunately.”

The rest of the questions were about where I was living and why. These were more personal and more embarrassing.

“You are currently living in the home of your attorney, Michael Williams, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Why aren’t you living at home with your mother?”

“She doesn’t believe that Don Clarey beat me up and broke my arm. I decided that I couldn’t live with her if she believes I’m a liar, and these aren't lies. So I talked to Mr. Williams and he arranged a temporary placement for me through CPS. Since his home is registered as a foster home that’s where I’m staying.”

“Are you estranged from your mother?”

“I don’t know the meaning of ‘estranged’ so can you explain what it means?”

She gave me a dictionary, and I looked up estranged. It means apart, separated (spouse, etc.); alienated, disaffected.

“I’ll rephrase the question. Are you and your mother estranged or are you still speaking with each other?”

“We’re still speaking with each other, but I’d say otherwise we’re estranged from each other because she doesn’t believe me when I tell her Don Clarey caused my injuries.”

Finally she had her assistant read the part of the police investigation report about Otto Vanvelick and Tom’s run-in with him the morning before Don beat me up. I confirmed that what they read to me was the way I remembered it.

Finally Beth said, “This concludes the deposition of Curtis Fischer.” She turned off the tape recorder and the stenotypist stopped and pulled out a long trail of what looked more like toilet paper than anything else. She saw me looking at the paper and her machine.

“If you’re curious Curt, this long strip of paper has the text of my transcription of your deposition printed on paper.”

“Thanks. I was curious.”

The stenotypist used one of those notary stamps to emboss the beginning and ending of the paper strip and had Beth sign both places. She picked up her stenotype machine and left, saying goodbye to us.

Beth stretched and yawned. “Alright, let’s go to lunch. Is that okay with everyone?”

“Yeah,” I replied, “I’m starved and I bet Kyle and Mark are the same.”

Mr. Williams added, “I could certainly use some lunch.”

We walked out and I checked my watch. It was five after two, and my deposition ha

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