Page 37 of The Space Traveller's Lover
“Because of what?” Sam snaps, lifting his head and making eye contact with Wray, albeit dejectedly.
“Because I believed you, Sam. I do believe you truly loved her. I could see it in your eyes, deep down to the bottom of your soul. Every time you spoke about her, your eyes glowed with passion, your cheeks bloomed in bright red patches, and your voice never failed to tremble with anguish. Every time you recounted your story—”
“And do you believe what they’ve said about me in the hearing?”
Wray opens his suitcase and takes out his digital notebook. The screen comes to life with high-contrast images and bold texts showing the latest news headlines. He scrolls through until finding the content he was looking for—the summary of all the witnesses’ accounts.
“Let me read some of the damning testimony now,” Wray says, pausing to look directly at Sam before continuing with a gloomy voice. “Sam was always pursuing Erin. He often waited for her after school or after finishing her shift at the tuna farm and then accompanied her to her house. He once confessed to me that he was besotted with her. Still, he was frustrated that he never saw any inviting gesture from her. He said he had waited long enough to have her and that he would not wait any longer. He said his feelings were so strong for her, he couldn’t live without her. The day they disappeared, I noticed he was very nervous. He even arrived at work later than usual.
“We all laughed at Sam. He looked like a clown, like a small puppy around Erin. And it was plain to see she didn’t want anything to do with him, but he was fascinated with her.
“Sam used to practise boat surfing on the dangerous coast. He told me one day he would enter the Diablo’s cave and get close to the treacherous waterfall, and he wanted to impress someone, someone very special to him.
“Sam told me, if he could not have Erin, then no one ever would. He said he would do anything on Earth to make sure she would be his. These are his exact words: ‘I’m prepared to even kill for her love.’”
Wray finishes reading and gazes closely at Sam for a few more seconds, as if trying to decipher every muscle movement on his face.
“The things people say looking for the limelight—and after so much bad press about you.” Wray shakes his head dismissively.
“I know I’m fascinated with her. I love her so much, but she was never interested, despite our close friendship. I was very frustrated. I probably said something similar. But I never meant it seriously.”
Sam stands up, glaring at his lawyer, who leans back in his chair, waving his hands to try to calm his client down.
“I love her. I still love her,” Sam insists. “And I’d never kill her.”
“Okay, okay, but you need to realise that no one will believe this story about the alien man flying towards you while keeping the boat perfectly still at the waterfall’s edge, then taking Erin away with him.” Wray tries hard but cannot keep himself from sounding very sceptical.
“He must have taken her. I fainted before I could see what he did …”
As Sam lounges himself back into his seat, the lawyer strokes his bristly black moustache before continuing.
“Sorry, but it’s hard to follow this story, never mind taking it seriously.”
“I am very sorry too, as I have no proof, no witness, no compelling evidence,” Sam replies in a sad whisper.
“I see only one option,” Wray says, leaning over the table and trying to sound upbeat. “Tomorrow, you must prove to the entire court and the world what you said to me. Write your final plea as a proclamation of love, and let’s hope that Judge Abiko, so profoundly touched by your testimony, shows some leniency.”
Sam slowly nods with a bitter look of defeat in his eyes. Deep inside his mind, he has come to accept that nobody will ever believe him.
“Don’t give up,” Wray reassures him while patting his shoulders. “If you are telling the truth, then it’s worth fighting for it.”
“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll write something—that is, if they want to hear my testimony after the last witness from the prosecution gives evidence,” he glumly replies.
“Sam, concentrate on what you have to say. I’ll handle Professor Khan and Ms Porter. Deal?”
This time, Sam nods with a flashing smile and a slight expression of confidence that finally pleases Wray.
“Let’s get ready for tomorrow, as all we have is today,” the lawyer concludes in an uplifting tone, putting away his notebook and grabbing his suitcase. “Don’t ever lose hope if you are telling the truth,” Wray firmly says, looking straight into Sam’s eyes before closing the door.
That night, Sam pours his soul out into his lengthy self-defence testimony. He writes the whole story—since he first met Erin until the last minute he saw her alive. Reading his words repeatedly, he realises that his writing resembles a fatal epitaph, a dire capitulation of a failed wasted young life.
“I am entirely to blame for taking her there, and now she’s gone … she’s probably dead. First, I should pay for what I’ve done, but never for being a coward, never for being a liar. This tragedy is solely my own making, so I should get the punishment for what is entirely my fault.
“How can I make this right? How can I make this entire nightmare disappear as if it has never happened?” he keeps asking himself.
He starts twisting his bed sheet into the sturdiest rope he can make and then ties it tightly around his neck, pulling away at each side as firmly as he can. The throbbing pain pushes through his sweaty forehead; he shivers as his pounding pulse knives through his swollen temples, but he keeps pulling even harder. As his vision becomes blurry, he starts hallucinating and hearing double-echoed voices from afar while he aimlessly stares at the ceiling.
Only when I am gone will this whole madness come to an end. I must find somewhere to hang from.
