I wanted story -- not facts

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How am I doing?

I don't know.

"Convince me." That's what I wanted. The last day of the trial, I wanted to be convinced one way or the other without any reasonable doubt. I think that's what we all wanted as we listened to the closing arguments by both defence and Crown Wednesday.

"Bad science," were the defence's words as he summed up his argument.

"DNA says he was present," was the Crown's summation.

And the judge talked forever about how the jurors were to arrive at their decision. "Use your common sense," he said in the end.

I don't envy them.

It was all brilliant. We've definitely had three of the best minds deliberating over it all.

For me it was worth it all as again another piece of the puzzle slipped into place. That one little piece of new insight was worth it all, as we have sat there endlessly for almost five weeks now.

Candace was worth it. My children need to hear it. I am grateful for every word spoken.

But these keepers of the truth are all lawyers with lawyer ways. I wanted story -- not facts.

I wanted all the pieces of the puzzle to be laid out and then pulled together into a beautiful story with character development, main plot, subplots, climax, descriptions, and a grand finale with good winning in the battle of good and evil, the truth in drama not more legalese.

As someone left, I heard him mutter, "I'll wait for the movie."

Actually, now that it is done, I think I want to wait for the movie, too. I want it not only all figured out but also done in a style that is easily accessible. I want story. I want to know the answer to the elusive "why?"

And I want someone to write it out for me in a way I understand. It could begin, "As Candace was walking home that fateful day, an unknown man came up behind her. It was snowing, the visibility was poor. She didn't know him and was surprised at his forwardness as he started to engage her in a conversation... Before she knew it... His name was..."

Then I want the story to continue for the next 26 years ending with the conclusion, "And the jury's decision was..."

The reality is I don't know if we will ever know the details I am looking for. This isn't the forum to provide that for me.

Besides, the story isn't finished. What was past tense has become present tense again. We have now become part of the story again. It is no longer about what happened back then, but what will happen next. It is a story on the move, again being written by a new cast of characters -- the 12 people sequestered in the back jury room of Courtroom 230. And that is the terrifying part of it now.

We are also part of it again. Until the jury makes a decision, we have to stay within 15 minutes of Room 230. We will be just hanging out -- waiting -- from 9 in the morning till 9:30 at night.

This takes the "exquisite art of waiting" to a whole new level that I'm not sure we are prepared for.

Come wait with us on the fourth floor. I have no idea how to live out this part of the story.

I held a moment in my hand, brilliant as a star, fragile as a flower, a tiny sliver of one hour. I dripped it carelessly, Ah! I didn't know, I held opportunity.

-- Hazel Lee

Wilma Derksen blogs at mylemonade.org. Cliff Derksen posts drawings and photographs with her blogs. Lemonade is part of Victims' Voice, a program of MCC Canada.

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition February 18, 2011 A14