“Where is Autumn? I need to see Autumn,” I say and my voice still doesn’t sound right. I know this is a PTSD type thing. The last time police cars were at my house was when they came to tell us our parents were dead. I’m reacting to the sight with the trauma of the past. Woody was wearing pajamas then too.
“She’s in the shed with the other cops.”
“What? Why?” I blink as Woody takes me by my shoulders and pushes me gently until I’m sitting on the bottom step. It’s easier than it should have been considering I don’t want to sit down, but my legs are made of Jell-O and toothpicks suddenly. “I need to see her. I know it’s stupid, but I need to see she’s here. Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” Woody stops crouching in front of me and stands up. He stakes several steps but stops. I don’t think he wants to leave me so instead he just yells, “Autumn! Come! Now!”
“No screaming,” Matt barks at my brother and then he turns to me. He’s wearing reflective aviator sunglasses even though the sun is behind the clouds and has been since I left the house this morning. I see my face in them and Woody is right, my skin is the same color as the white washed pine porch. “Bowen, we came here today with a warrant to search your premises.”
“Why?”
“This is why. This slander piece.” Woody shoves his phone in front of me. I didn’t even realize he was holding it earlier. It’s open to the online version of the local newspaper.
I have to really study it to understand what the hell I’m seeing. The headline says “Mayoral Candidate’s Brother is Suspected Drug Dealer.”
I read it four times but it still won’t compute. There’s a picture of Bert and Ernie in my back shed. As I scroll further down there’s another picture with both the pot plants and the rows of our tomato plants behind them. With the dark lighting of the shot it looks like rows and rows of pot plants.
“We need to take you down to the station for questioning,” Matt says gruffly.
“No, you don’t,” Autumn’s voice fills the air, high and somehow menacing at the same time. “Your buddies have only found the two plants, which is all they’re going to find. Which, legally, is allowed under the current recreational marijuana laws for the state of Vermont.”
“Autumn, don’t tell me how to do my job,” Matt grumbles at my sister.
“Well, someone’s got to,” Autumn retorts and storms right up to him. She’s furious. Her strawberry blonde hair is wild, unbrushed, and she’s in a pair of jean shorts and an oversized Beauty and the Beast T-shirt, which she always wears when we have farm work. “Isn’t it your job to know the penal code? Because here’s a part you seem to have forgotten. As of July first, 2018, adult cultivation in private of up to six marijuana plants – two mature and up to four immature – is no longer punishable by criminal or civil penalty. Those who cultivate marijuana for their own personal use may possess at home the total quantity of the harvest.”
“Didn’t know you were pre-law at Moo U, Autumn,” Matt says with sarcasm dripping off his words. He turns to me. “The question is whether you consume it recreationally, at home, or whether you sell if for profit, Bowen. We need to question you about that.”
“So do it here,” Woody interjects. He points to me. “In case you didn’t notice he’s not exactly doing well right now.”
“I’m fine.”
“Is that because he’s about to get caught?”
“No, you fuck wit,” Autumn barks. “It’s because the last time police cars ambushed us, we became orphans.”
“Autumn!” Woody snaps.
Matt turns slowly towards my sister, and I finally find my legs and stand. “I’ll go with you. Whatever you want. Just cut her some slack.”
Matt ignores me and faces off with my sister who would spit nails right now if she could. “You can’t talk to me like that Autumn.”
“Freedom of speech.”
I can see his jaw clenched so tight the vein in his neck bulges. “I’m going to cut you the slack your brother asked for because I get that this might be traumatic.”
Autumn opens her mouth to speak but I cut her off. “Say thank you Autumn and absolutely nothing else.”
Her eyes find mine. “Please.”
“Thank you,” she spits out.
Matt turns to me. “Can we just talk? I don’t think you’re a drug dealer but I gotta do my job which is due diligence.”
Three more officers come around from the back of the house. I know them all by face but not by name. None of them, thankfully, look happy to be here. “Just the two plants. And we’ve looked everywhere.”
“Okay good,” Matt says. The guy loves being an authority figure, clearly, but right now he’s not leaping off into the asshole abyss and I appreciate it. “We can talk here, I guess. Somewhere private because I don’t need the peanut gallery chiming in.”
Autumn opens her mouth but I glare at her so she closes it promptly. I nod at Matt and am about to suggest he come inside and we chat in the kitchen, when Woody starts yelling. “This is private property! Leave!”
