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There was a thunderous pounding on the front door. Michael rolled out of bed and made his way through the dim house. It was half past six and the sun was barely peeking over the mountains on the eastern horizon. The pounding echoed through the house again. Michael opened the door and turned on the porch light.
The county sheriff blocked the doorway, a menacing look occupying his face. He was a solemn man in his mid-fifites with abelly that hung over his belt.
�Michael Roberts?: The sheriff asked, squinting through the darkness.
�Yes,� Michael ansered, still trying to wake up.
�Would you come to the station with me, please. I�d like to ask you a few questions.� His tone was low and serious.
�What about?�
�Would you please just come with me?�
The sheriff stepped aside so Michael could get out the door. Confused and half asleep, Michael did what he was asked. Silence controlled the air between them on the short trip to the station. Michael tried to come up with an explanation. Would the police in this podunk town come to your house at six in the morning for one unpaid parking ticket?
Probably.
The sheriff escorted Michael to an empty chair next to a big oak desk. There were files on top of papers on top of files. The police department was not very efficient in Dorland, primarily because there was rarely a real crime to investigate. WIth his hands in his lap, Michael looked at the people in the room, He looked at everyone and noticed nothing unusual about them. He did not notice how many were in the room or what they wore. He only noticed that they were all staring at him.
A large woman in a floral print dress led him to the class. Michael entered Mrs. Jones� second grade classroom with her. He was nervous, as most seven olds are on their first day at a new school. Quietly, he fixed his blue eyes on the aging teacher. She seemed warm and friendly as she tried to find him a seat. Then Michael scanned the faces that were all glaring at him. Some of the kids just stared as if he were from another planet, other whispered and snickered with friends. When he was given a seat, he sank low in the chair, trying to escape the empty stares.
"Micheal, did you see Lacey Richards last night?" The sheriff asked casually.
"No, why?" Micheal answered, anxiety growing in him.
"Did you speak to her at all?" The sheriff pressed, his tone sounding unconvinced.
"She called me last night. What is this about?" Micheal began looking around nervously.
"Lacey told her mother she was going to see you last night, and you're telling me you didn't see her at all last night."
This sounded like an accusation.
"No, I didn't see her. She called because she got into a fight with her step-father. She probably told her mother she was coming to see me so she could get out of her house."
A deputy came into the office, somewhat out of breath.
"We found her body, Sheriff," The deputy said.
The sheriff glared into Micheal's eyes. He was searching for a confession in those eyes.
The lunch bell sounded, and Micheal found himself alone. He ate his lunch in the far corner of the cafeteria. A girl, with long golden hair, from his class came and sat down next to him. She was polite and introduced herself as Lacey. Instantly Micheal and Lacey became best friends, and this friendship lasted for the next twelve years. In that time, Micheal suffered the torment and ridicule of the town. But through it all, Lacey remained at his side.
"Where was the body found?" The sheriff asked.
"Down by the river, about a mile and a half from the Roberts place. Looks like she was stabbed in the back about five times and then had her throat slit from ear to ear," The deputy replied as he glared at Micheal.
"You don't think I did it? She was my best friend, how could I?" Micheal was scared. He knew they would blame him, just to get the freak out of their peaceful, little town.
"Now, you are positive you didn't see Lacey Richards last night?" The sheriff accused him again.
It was suddenly clear that no matter what was said, Micheal was guilty. The sheriff had made up his mind on that much. The town would agree in no time because Micheal had always seemed a little different. There was nothing Micheal could say or do to change the closed minds of the citizens.
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