Here’s again a short story about a high hyperope girl with an eyepatch. Enjoy
It was already after 9 o‘clock in the evening when Officer Chapman parked his police car in front of our house again. I did not recognize him directly, but by the way he moved it must have been him, I thought. I had not met this guy before all those things happened, but when he walked, his arms moved in a special way. I instantly had noticed that.
I heard our doorbell ring and my father opening the door. I heard dad’s voice, then the voice of Officer Chapman, and a third voice that belonged to a woman. Who was that? And what did they want? I thought I had told the policemen everything I could remember. Some things I had told over and over again. And for some things they had asked three, four, five times. I was tired, my eyes hurt, and all I wanted to do was sl-
“Jessica, can you please come downstairs?” I heard my dad call. “The police are here again, just for a short question!” “Yeah, I’ll come.” I sighed. I adjusted my glasses over my adhesive eyepatch which I was just about to pull off and hopped down the stairs, pretending to be wide awake. I looked at Officer Chapman and the woman who had come with him. “Hello, Jessica”, he said. “I’m sorry that I have to disturb you, but I’d like to introduce Mrs. Mann to you. Mrs. Mann is from a department which is in charge of murder cases, and she has some important questions.” My god! Did he really say “murder”? Until now I was convinced that I was the witness of a fight between some people. Now it was murder? I looked at the officer, then at the woman. She appeared to be a cool, rigorous person, with short and nearly white bleached hair, a narrow face and business clothes – she did not wear a uniform. She stretched out her right arm, took my hand and said: “Kathleen Mann. Nice to meet you, Jessica. Is there a possibility to talk to you alone?” I turned around to look at my dad. He nodded. “Go upstairs, it’s the best place to be undisturbed”, he suggested. “I will stay with you”, Officer Chapman said to my dad. “Maybe we can talk about what you have seen when you wanted to fetch your daughter. I know we are repeating things, but maybe there are some details you recall just now.” “Sure”, dad said and offered him a chair while I walked upstairs with the cool white lady.
“I did not know that you wear an eyepatch”, Mrs. Mann said. “Do you need it because of double vision, or for curing a lazy eye?” I felt my face turning red. That was not the first question I expected from a member of the homicide squad. “Because of both”, I stammered. Double vision was not a problem for me, but it was the explanation that everybody understood, so I always said yes when somebody offered me this. “So I guess you put it on after school?” Mrs. Mann asked. “No.” I shook my head. “I have to wear it from morning to evening. I put it on after having a shower in the morning.” “Oh, sure, because you see double all the time”, Mrs. Mann said. I nodded. “And because I really need some vision training.” I looked at her, but I could not really see her, so I looked somewhere next to her – my optometrist had explained that this was because of my strabismus. My eye had learned to use another part of the retina for seeing, unfortunately a part which did not have a great resolution. With the patch on the other eye, my left eye could see straight but still did not use the right part. “You were wearing your patch when you were at the bus stop this afternoon?” Mrs. Mann asked. “Sure”, I nodded. “And you were wearing your glasses, I guess”, she added. Again I nodded. “I have to wear them. Otherwise I would not see a thing.” Mrs. Mann looked at me, at my eye and my glasses. “They seem quite strong”, she stated. “May I ask how strong?” “Sure.” I opened the drawer under my desk and pulled out a small card. “This is the prescription. The glasses are quite new, I got them only some weeks ago.” Mrs. Mann pulled out her smartphone. “Is it okay for you that I take a picture of this?” she asked. I shrugged. “Yeah”, I said, although it was a little embarrassing. “Do you know the numbers on this card?” she asked me. “Right eye is patched so it does not matter”, I said. “But the left should be +11.25 now, with a reading add of +3.” Mrs. Mann nodded. Then she carefully touched my left lens with her finger and nodded again. “So the reading add is the cause of this line here in the middle of your lens”, she said. “Do you know, well, how much you can see? I know this is hard to describe of course, but believe me, it’s equally hard to ask the right question!” She laughed. It was a cold laughter, I thought. She did not think anything was funny. “Sure I know how much I can see”, I grumbled. “But you are right, it’s hard to estimate. You can’t know how to compare what I see, because everyone sees differently I think.” “That’s the problem”, she said. “And that’s why I’m here. I have to find out what you have seen.” “I told Officer Chapman what I’ve seen”, I said. “I don’t know how often. So what do you want to know?” I sat down on my bed while Mrs. Mann took the chair from my desk and pushed it over so she could look at me directly. She pulled out a small notebook and a pen. “So you told the officer that you were waiting for the bus when suddenly a fight broke out.” “Yes”, I answered. “It was after school. I missed my regular bus and had to wait for the next one.” “Why did you miss your bus?” Mrs. Mann wanted to know. “Because I was still in the classroom”, I said. “Because of my vision it took a bit longer to copy everything from the board correctly. This happens sometimes. My maths teacher knows about my vision and he stays in class until I have finished copying, because maybe I have questions or can’t read something. And he has to lock the door when I’m gone. His name is Mr. Lambert, just in case you want to ask him.” “Very good”, Mrs. Mann smiled and wrote down the name. “So after you finished your lesson with Mr. Lambert, you walked over to the bus stop. And there?” “I waited for the next bus”, I finished her sentence. “Mary Simpson from my class and some of the seniors came over and waited there too.” “Can you tell me the names of the seniors? Well, if you know them of course.” Mrs. Mann took her pen and looked at me. “Sure.” I closed my eyes. “There’s a bench next to the bus stop. Mary was sitting there when I arrived. We had the math lesson together but she finished it with all the others, so she could go earlier. I don’t know why she had missed the bus too. Then some of the boys came over and one of them sat down next to Mary. I think it was William… William Miles. Yes, it was him, I remember his long black coat.” “So did you recognize William, or only his coat?” Mrs. Mann asked. Damn, I thought. I looked at her. “I think I saw more his coat than his face”, I said. “But yes, he had black hair, so it was William. He is one of the guys who always wear black, dye their hair, wear rings in their noses and so on.” “Is there any other senior boy who has black hair?” she inquired. “Sure”, I said. “Isayah has black hair, but he has black skin too. I would have noticed if it was a colored boy. Some girls have dyed their hair black, too. And we have some Asian boys who have black hair, but same here – I would have noticed. And none of them wears a long black coat. No, it was definitely William!” “What about the other boys?” “Jake Turner, Michael Hanson, Devin Singh”, I said.Mrs. Mann penned notes into her little book. “I don’t really know them, I only know their names, and some things that are told about them.” “Some things?” Mrs. Mann asked. “What things?” “Oh”, I smiled sheepishly. “Things like, well, which girls they date, or who failed the last exams, and so on. School stuff.” “And you are one of the mentioned - girls?” Mrs. Mann asked slyly. “No!” I shook my head fiercely. “These guys are not my friends, only schoolmates as I would put it. And”, I added in a lower voice, “I don’t think anyone of them would want a girl with my eyes.” I peered through my strong lens, trying to focus her face. “Don’t worry about that, Jessica”, she said in a comforting voice. “If a boy is really interested in you, your eyes won’t matter to him!” “Thanks, I will remember that”, I sighed, closed my left eye and rubbed it with my fingers. “Sorry, I did not want to offend you”, she apologized. “I can imagine that it’s not easy for you.” I shrugged. “Don’t know it any other way”, I said. “My eyes have always been bad, and I had enough time to get used to it, don’t you think?” Mrs. Mann smiled her cold smile. “You are right”, she said. “So can you tell me… what’s written on the poster here over your bed?” I looked in the direction she was pointing. “I know what’s written there”, I admitted. “But to be honest, I could not read it if I did not know the words.” “Good”, Mrs. Mann said to herself and wrote something in her little book. “Then please tell me again what happened when William sat down on the bench next to Mary Simpson.” I took a deep breath and looked upwards. I always did this when I pondered on something. Damn it, I thought when I felt the little spasms in my eye muscles again. My left eye pulled inwards and I couldn’t do anything against it. My, that was embarrassing! I closed my eyes, hoping to be able to see when I opened them again. I tried to concentrate on Mrs. Mann’s question. “William came from the schoolyard”, I told her. “Then I guess he spotted Mary because he walked directly over to her. She was doing some homework and I think she did not want to be disturbed. She was a bit rude when he approached her, and told him to leave her alone.” Mrs. Mann took notes. “Do you know what she said to him?” she asked. “Yes”, I answered, opening my eye again. “First it was something like ‘leave me alone’, or ‘please go away’, or ‘can’t you see I’m doing homework’. Then she went louder and shouted names at him which I won’t repeat. But he did not go away. He sat down next to her and stayed there.” “And then the other boys came over”, Mrs. Mann continued. I nodded. “Devin Singh was the first boy. School gossip says that he likes Mary and wants to be her boyfriend but she has not decided about him yet. He went over to the bench and told William to leave her alone. But William did not listen and kept hassling Mary. And suddenly fists were flying. William pushed Devin away while Mary was kicking William with her boots. Then Michael and Jake ran over to help Devin, he was lying on the ground, screaming. Someone must have hit him, but I could not see if it was Mary with her boots or William who was kicking him too. William always wears those heavy safety boots, you know.” “Safety boots?” Mrs. Mann interrupted. “Yes, those heavy black leather boots with a steel cap inside”, I explained. “He showed them off in class. He said he can kick anything without even noticing it, and he showed it by kicking in a door.” Mrs. Mann took her notes. “What consequences did this have?” she asked. “None”, I shrugged. “Nobody said a word to any teacher. Because nobody wanted to get kicked the same way.” “Would you say that William is violent?” Mrs. Mann asked. I looked around and nodded. “Yes, that is his only weapon”, I sighed. “Everyone is afraid of him. And he has no friends. At least not real friends. Only hack guys who do not want to get kicked again. They literally lick his boots, they do everything for him. And they think William is a real friend to them.” “And what about the other boys” – Mrs. Mann looked at her notebook – “Jake and Michael?” “They do not belong to William’s people”, I explained. “They are both brilliant musicians. The stars of our school band. One plays the tenor saxophone, the other the trumpet. Violence is not their business. Well, at least not usually.” A little smile came to her face. “They are not my close friends either, in fact I don’t really know them, but they are nice guys.” “Do you know anything about Mary Simpson?” Mrs. Mann inquired. I rubbed my eye which was awfully tired and tried to focus Mrs. Mann’s face, then the poster over my bed – I could see none of it clearly. “What do you want to know?” I asked. “She is in my class, just a normal girl, nothing special. Now and then we sit next to each other. Horses are her world, so I guess we won’t become close friends because my world is, well, without horses.” I laughed. “But nevertheless she’s nice, and she’s a good student, and she sometimes helps me with reading the board.” “How long have you been wearing your eyepatch at school?” Mrs. Mann wanted to know. “About one year”, I said. She nodded. “So can you tell me how things went on at the bus stop?” she asked. “Yeah”, I yawned. “Sorry, Mrs. Mann. Ehm, I think I could not recognize too many details, but the boys started to fight seriously. Devin had gotten up again, and they were hitting each other, now and then one fell on the ground but soon stood up again and went on. Then Mary was hit, she was screaming, while the boys kept on dashing their brains out. That was the moment when I called the police – and my dad.” “This was the right moment”, Mrs. Mann assured her. “And the officers arrived a short time later, together with the ambulance.” I nodded. “Was Mary still screaming when they arrived?” I racked my brains. “I don’t remember exactly, but I think she was silent by then”, I said slowly. “Maybe she fainted. I only remember the ambulance guys putting her on the stretcher and pushing her into the car.” “Can you remember any detail about the fight between the boys?” Mrs. Mann wanted to know. I closed my eyes again. Suddenly I could see the whole scene repeating in front of my inner eye. And it was pin sharp. I saw Jake’s shoes approaching Mary’s throat in slow motion. I saw the shoe hitting her neck. I heard her screaming one last time, then she was silent, at the same moment I heard the ambulance blaring. Jake did not pay any attention to where his feet were stepping, he just went on fighting. Again I saw Jake’s shoes: He had the same boots that William was wearing. Black safety boots. I guess I never had noticed them before because he simply wore them, but he did not show them off or used them as a weapon. And he wore them under his trousers, not like William who stuffed his trousers into them. To Jake, they were just fancy boots.
“I went one or two steps nearer”, I said. “And I saw William hitting Mary’s neck with his heavy boot.” I was shaking a bit because it was a lie. But Mrs. Mann put a hand on my arm and said: “I know it’s horrible, but please try to remember exactly what has happened!” “That’s what I saw”, I said. “William hit Mary with his boot. Here.” I touched a part of my own neck. “Those boots are big enough so I could see them clearly. Why is it so important?” “Thank you very much”, Mrs. Mann said and wrote something into her book again. “I’m afraid to tell you, but Mary Simpson was killed in this fight. And with your giving of evidence I think it will be easy to find William guilty of killing her.”
My face went pale and I felt hot and cold at the same time. My hands were shaking. “Mary is – dead?” I stammered, not wanting or being able to believe that. Mrs. Mann nodded. “Yes, and I’m so sorry about that.” “Oh my god”, I said silently. “I think even William would not have wanted to do this. Although he’s a totally evil guy. I don’t believe that he would actually want to kill a person.” “Whatever he wanted or not, he obviously did it”, Mrs. Mann said in her cool voice. “And I believe you. I believe that you have seen what you just told me, although your vision is really not good, but good enough to have witnessed those things. Would you repeat that to my colleagues at the police station tomorrow?” I nodded. Mrs. Mann got up, left my room and walked down the stairs where she joined my dad and Officer Chapman. Henry, my brother, was sitting with them, trying to be as cool and grown-up as an 18-year-old boy could be. “Finished for today”, Mrs. Mann smiled, and for the first time it was a real smile, not one of her cool fake smiles. “I think with the information that Jessica provided, the case is solved. We’ll just have to do the official paperwork tomorrow at the police station. Jessica will repeat what she just said.”
I sat down next to Henry while the adults kept on talking. “Mary got killed”, I said silently. Henry nodded. “I already heard about that. It’s so awful. Who did this?” “William”, I said. Henry sighed. “Sooner or later something like this had to happen.” I made a face, then I started pulling off the adhesive eyepatch. When I readjusted my glasses, Henry looked at me. “Put it back on”, he smirked, moving his eyes in a funny way. “I’m just about to go to bed!” I protested. “I don’t need it there!” “Goodbye, see you tomorrow”, I heard Mrs. Mann’s voice, and I saw Officer Chapman waving his hand. I put the patch on my right eye again, then I got up and went upstairs again. I smiled. The patch had been a very good thing today.