Page 44 of No Take Backs

As teenagers, Eddie, Ella, and the rest of our siblings had banded together and tricked our parents into renting an RV for one whole summer, and we traveled around, doing every crazy thing we could. We hiked the Grand Canyon and stepped on the Four Corners. Ella threw up at Mt. Rushmore, and I got to step foot in the ocean in California. We had a blast, and our parents swore that after they finished raising us, they were going to do the trip again, without the responsibility of keeping us alive.

"Mom loves it, even if she calls to complain every single weekend like clockwork."

We fall into a silence that is a lot more comfortable than I ever remember it being between us, and I sip the coffee, surprised that Eddie still remembers exactly how I like it.

By the time we pull into the parking lot, my bladder is full and we have less than twenty minutes until we are going to be late.

"I don't know why it takes so damn long to get through the county and Belfast," Eddie mutters as he leads the way into the building and through security.

But I’m not paying enough attention to him to answer. The coffee goes straight through me, and I’m practically dancing from foot to foot to keep myself from peeing down my leg while I wait in line to be let into the bathroom. Once security makes sure that I’m not hiding anything except tampons in my purse, they point knowingly in the right direction.

While nodding thankfully, I rush off at the sound of Eddie's laughter.

With everything going on and the reason we’ve driven halfway across the state before the sun came up, I didn't think I'd hear him laugh. At least not until we leave the building.

“I really thought I might pee myself,” I admit to him quietly when we are waiting outside the room we’ll spend the majority of the day in. “I’m glad I made it.” Even though I say it with a smile on my face, it is definitely the truth. I barely had my pants down before it was like Niagara Falls. I also am not about to tell him that’s how close I came.

Eddie chortles.

We both sit down, and maybe another two minutes later, there is a man standing in front of us wearing the familiar brown uniform of a sheriff.

"Officer Stryker. We're ready for you, sir."

Swallowing down the bile that threatens to rise at what I know comes next, I follow Eddie as he stands. And when his hand takes mine, clasping tightly, I don't pull away. But if anyone asks, I'll lie to them and say that neither of us are trembling as we walk into the room already almost full of people and other officers.

"Thank you for coming today." The man at the front of the room wears a black suit with a white shirt, and I can see the gold cuff links from the back of the room. "Now that everyone is here," he says while staring directly at Eddie, "we can convene today's panel."

Eddie takes a deep breath next to me and leads the way to the only two empty seats on the left side of the room. The same side of the room where the rest of the police officers are sitting. The side where no one is wearing an orange jumpsuit or has their hands and feet handcuffed in front of them.

It is the side that I’m safe making eye contact with people in. Because if I look at the other side, I'll see him. The man who is responsible for why I’m sitting in the middle of the Maine State Prison.

"Breathe." Eddie squeezes my hand. "It's going to be over soon."

"I know," I tell him quietly. "I just, I feel terrible."

"Don't." Eddie lets go of my hand and readjusts himself so that he is sitting with his hands resting on his knees. "It's fine."

"Today, we're gathered to discuss the matter of parole for multiple inmates of the Maine State Prison system. First, we will address Daniel Williams. Mr. Williams was found guilty five years ago for the attempted murder of Officer Edward Stryker of Birch Police Department, in Birch County, Maine," the bailiff standing to the right of the original speaker announces to the room as a whole. "We will hear the testimony of the officer he shot, as well as hear written reports from the guards who have served on his block for the last five years."

My palms are sweating, and my heart thuds loudly in my chest as I keep my eyes glued to the five men and two women sitting at the front of the room.

Gold cuff link man has a grimace on his face as he looks out across the room. In fact, none of them look like they want to be there, and I can't blame them. I would rather be doing literally anything, and yet there I am, sitting next to Eddie to give him the support he needs.

"Officer Stryker will give his testimony first," Mr. Gold Cuff Link announces loudly.

Eddie clears his throat and gets up, giving me a smile that looks more like he is about to run in the opposite direction than actually testify, so I reach out and grab his hand.

"You've got this," I tell him, trying to forget the image of him lying in a hospital bed that flashes into my mind. "Trust me. You got this."

He nods and then proceeds to the front of the makeshift courtroom, not once looking at the man responsible for his pain.

"My name is Edward Stryker," he says once he stands in front of the panel. "And on Halloween night, six years ago, Daniel Williams shot me four times. Once in the chest and three times in the back and side. Mr. Williams was the suspect in an OUI, or 'operator under the influence' call that I was dispatched to by my agency, Birch Police Department. When I pulled his vehicle over, Mr. Williams followed my instructions to get out of the vehicle, denied that he had any alcohol, and then ran from me. On that night, Mr. Williams managed to get a shot off that embedded itself into the Kevlar vest that covered my back, and as I turned, he fired two more rounds that hit me in the side, where there was no protection from my vest. The last shot, the one that hit me in the chest, managed to pierce the vest and lodged in my sternum." Eddie clears his throat, sounding like he swallowed a pile of ash and then chewed on it. "But that information is in the file that you have in front of you. He was found guilty by a jury of his peers." Eddie takes a breath then, pausing as he thinks about what he is going to say next.

"I came here today, convinced that Mr. Williams had robbed me of the life I was supposed to have." His eyes find mine in the gallery, and he closes them for a brief and painful moment. "He did not. Over the past five years that he's been incarcerated, I haven't thought about him, unless I've felt the tearing pain of my chest aching as I've rushed to help another caller. I've not felt the pinching muscles in my back as I've sought to work and achieve everything that Mr. Williams thought he was tearing away from me. A jury of his peers found him guilty," Eddie repeats his earlier statement.

"And he was sentenced to the maximum penalty afforded by the State of Maine for attempted murder. He was sentenced to imprisonment for life with the possibility of parole after twenty years." He swallows deeply, and the sound echoes throughout the room. "Due to his mother's diagnosis of inoperable cancer, he was granted this early parole hearing. One that I plead with you to reject. Mr. Williams was not thinking of anyone else but himself the night that he tried to steal my life. He did not think of my mother. My family. Nor his own. He only sought to rob me of the life that I've spent helping others. To give him that consideration now would be a slap in the face to all of those whose lives he damaged and hurt with his actions six years ago.”

With one last look at the panel, Eddie turns and starts to walk away.

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