“Realizing that you’re not an engineer, Mrs. Nelson, can you describe the physical layout of the mechanism for me?” Ben glanced at Abernathy. To his surprise, there was no objection. Abernathy was doodling on his legal pad, only barely paying attention.
“The tractor was nothing out of the ordinary—one of those big John Deere machines. The flatbed behind it was large, wooden, and flat. Enough room for thirty or forty of us without much crowding. Plus an ice chest filled with Cokes.”
“And what did you do on this flatbed?”
“We just rode around on the dirt north of the football field. I don’t know why. They’re teenagers, for God’s sake. What they do for fun…” Her voice trailed off.
“And parents were involved in this? As well as the kids?”
“Oh, yes. We try to do everything we can with our children. Especially…Jason.” Another twitch, quickly stifled.
“And then what happened?”
She released a stream of air through parted lips. “At first, nothing. Everyone was having a great time. Laughing, shouting, passing around the Cokes. Jason was swinging his legs off the edge of the flatbed, flirting with Terri, his girlfriend. Everything was wonderful.”
Ben bit down on his lower lip. He hated this. What could possibly be worse than forcing a woman to relive the night her oldest son…
“And then?” he said, nudging her along as gently as possible.
“And then…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what happened. I still don’t understand. There was a sudden…lurching. We heard an awful sound—metal grating against metal—then the flatbed pitched violently to one side. I immediately thought of Jason, dangling off the edge.” Her face twisted, tightened. “I saw him waving his arms, trying to regain his balance. He was always such a coordinated boy, so strong, so light on his feet…”
Her eyes began to water. “I reached out to him.” She extended her hands, as if reliving the entire horrific incident. “I shouted, ‘Jason! Someone grab Jason!’ But no one did. He fell.” Tears were streaming down her face.
Ben paused while June tried to regain her composure. The tension was affecting everyone in the room.
“Did you see anything after that?”
“Oh, yes,” she cried. “Oh…yes.” She wiped me tears from her face, but more streamed down to replace them. She was full out crying now, no turning back.
“What did you see?”
She breathed deep and raspily. “Jason held onto the flatbed as long as he could. Too long. As he fell, he pulled himself back under the flatbed. He got caught—between the tires and axles and—” Her eyes widened. “I ran toward him, but I was too late. He was caught in the metal workings under the flatbed. He, screamed out in pain. Blood splattered into my face. It was hideous. He was…mangled in the machinery. Jason!—”
She collapsed into the arms of her husband, crying and gasping for air. She would never have agreed to bring this lawsuit, Ben thought, if she had realized she would have to relive that nightmare.
Ben wiped the perspiration from his brow. Everyone else in the room seemed equally edgy. Even the court reporter appeared near tears.
“Let’s take a five-minute break,” Ben said. There was no dissent.
The five-minute break became a fifteen-minute break; Ben made certain everyone had all the time they needed to recover from the stress of June’s testimony.
When the deposition resumed, Ben departed from the night of the accident for less emotional grounds—matters that could only interest an attorney.
“Do you have any idea what caused the lurching of the flatbed you described?”
June glanced at Abernathy. “The defective leaf spring made by your company.” It was more a question than an answer.
“Is that something your attorney told you to say?”
“Objection.” Abernathy proved he was awake for the first time in the deposition. “That’s protected by the attorney-client privilege. I instruct the witness not to answer.”
“Do you personally have any knowledge regarding the design of the Apollo suspension system?” Ben continued;
“Well, no,” June answered.
“Do you know what is referred to as the XKL-1?”
“I’m…not sure.”
“That’s the trade name of the suspension system Apollo designed and manufactured that was used in the flatbed. Have you seen any documents suggesting there is a design defect in the XKL-1?”
“Not that I recall.”
“Do you have any reason to believe there are any documents suggesting the existence of a design defect in the XKL-1?”
She looked again at Abernathy, but he was no help. “I…don’t know of any, no.”
“Did you personally observe any machinery you believed to be defective?”
“I’m not very mechanically inclined. I can’t even start the lawn mower—”
“Please answer my question, ma’am. Did you see any machinery you believed to be defective?”
“No. Not that I was aware of.”
“How fast was the driver of the tractor going?”
“I’m…not certain…”
“Mrs. Nelson…isn’t it possible the flatbed just hit a bump?”
She seemed to be focusing on a point in the center of the table. “I don’t think so…”
“But you don’t know for sure?”
“The dirt field had been recently graded…”
“Do you have personal knowledge of that fact?”
She placed her hands under her arms. “No.”
“Can you say with absolute certainty that the flatbed didn’t just hit a bump?”
Abernathy hoisted himself up again. “To which we object.”
“On what grounds?”
“On…ummm…I object to the form of the question.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Mrs. Nelson, that’s what we call an objection for the record. Your counsel will renew it at trial, if he’s not too embarrassed. For now, however, you must answer my question.”
“I don’t think it was a bump.”
“But you can’t rule it out?”
“No. I suppose I can’t.”
“And it isn’t Apollo’s fault that the driver took that flatbed over a bumpy field, is it?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Thank you,” Ben said, relieved to be done with it. “I appreciate your honesty.”
15
BEN STARED HOPELESSLY AT the map.
“I’m sorry, Christina. I’m lost.”
Christina clicked her right turn signal and pulled onto the side of the road. “I knew I shouldn’t let you navigate. You have no sense of direction whatsoever.”
“I offered to drive.”
“Yeah, but then we’d have to take that beat-up Honda of yours, and I don’t, carry enough life insurance for that. Your Honda is seriously déclassé. When are you going to get a new car, anyway?”
“After Apollo makes me wealthy beyond my dreams of avarice.”
“Any day now.” She tugged at the map. “Here, let me.”
He resisted the tug. “I’m perfectly capable of reading a map.”
“I know,” Christina said. “Unfortunately, you’re reading it upside down.” She took the map from him and turned it right side up. “Now this could solve a lot of your navigational problems.”
“Is it my fault the orientation wasn’t clearly marked?”
Christina declined to comment. “I’ve been turning left off this dirt road when I should’ve been turning right. Which more than likely explains why I keep missing Camp Sequoyah.”
“Well, speed it up. We’re late.”
“Aye, aye, commandant.” She started the car and returned to the road. “Personally, I’m suspicious of anything that takes place this far from civilization as we know it. What is this DARE retreat, anyway?”