Ashes

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of violence, death, domestic abuse and mental illness.

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I can’t believe they make us wear these things. They really think I’m gonna run? Like I got anywhere to run to. Daddy still ain't responded to my message. Maybe he’s out of credits.

“Arlotti?”

Yeah, right here. Stuck in these cuffs, sheriff. Can’t even fix my hair before I walk in there.

“Have a seat right here by your attorney.”

Well, ain’t that nice. Plushy.

“Hi, Constance.”

Constance? That’s funny.

“You prefer Connie or Constance?”

“Connie.”

“Ok, Connie, do you remember what’s happening today? The judge is going to come in and ask you a few questions about your agreement, and then Mr. Fromm is going to go over the evidence. The judge might have some questions for you or me after that. Just remember to use Your Honor. And then, if you need to ask me anything, just write it down on this paper here. Hold on, let me get you a pen.”

I don’t recognize that lady sitting over there in the gallery. Must be one of Lee’s friends. I shouldn’t be surprised. He likes to spy.

“Alright, there’s your pen. You need some water or anything?”

“No, thanks.”

“Ok.”

It’s cold in here. All these old white people on the walls.

“All rise!”

Ok. Oh, I need to stand up. You ain’t gotta tug on my arm, Bailey.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, Your Honor.”

There’s Daddy. Oh, he looks awful. He just get off work?

“We’re here this morning on the matter of CR22-1582. I understand we’ve got a plea agreement on the table.”

“That’s right, Judge.”

“Alright, Mrs. Arlotti?”

“Yes, sir.”

Whoops. Meant Your Honor. Don’t look at me, Bailey. Don’t look at me.

“Ma’am, the grand jury charges that on or about July 27, 2022 you willfully or deliberately, with premeditation, killed Ava Lee Arlotti in the commission of abduction. How do you plead to that charge?”

“No contest.”

“Alright. You can have a seat.”

Back in the plush. Blech. How many people have sobbed all over this table?

“I’ve got a piece of paper here, we’ll go over what it says in a minute, but there’s a signature here at the bottom. Mrs. Arlotti, is that your signature?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Were you in any way threatened, forced or coerced into signing this document?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Has your attorney done everything that you asked him to do?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Except get Lee. They shoulda arrested him.

“And you’re requesting that I approve this agreement today?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“You understand that if I do accept this, it’s almost impossible for you to appeal my decision?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

It’s really not fair.

“Alright. Let’s have a look at it. It says that on the matter of CR22-1582 you are going to plead guilty or no contest and be found guilty on one count of felony aggravated murder. It says that in exchange for your plea, you’ll be sentenced to 30 years of incarceration, suspended after an active term of 10 years. And, Mrs. Arlotti, you will get credit for the time you’ve already served towards those 10 years.”

Two years and three months. I should get out now.

“Um, once released, you’ll be placed on supervised probation for a period of five years. And during that time you’ll need to pay your court costs, submit to post-trial services, complete any mental health treatment recommended by your probation officer. And you’ll also be ordered to have no contact with Joseph Lee Arlotti.”

I won’t need him.

“Ma’am, is that your understanding of your agreement?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Ok. Mr. Fromm, can you provide me with a summary of the facts of the case, please?”

Fromm. He’s got the funniest little tuft of hair on his head.

“Yes, Judge. If this case had gone to trial, the prosecution would have presented the following evidence.”

Bailey said a trial was a bad idea. Because I’d end up with more time.

“On July 27, 2022, the Jefferson City E-911 Center got a call at 7:41 p.m. from an individual who identified herself as Connie Arlotti, the defendant in this case. Mrs. Arlotti told the dispatcher that her 3-month-old daughter was not breathing and she thought the child had choked on one of her husband’s cigarettes.”

That’s right, she had ashes in her crib.

“The dispatcher walked Mrs. Arlotti through the Heimlich maneuver, and once Mrs. Arlotti indicated that the child was breathing again, the dispatcher offered to send an EMS unit to the residence to provide additional treatment. Mrs. Arlotti hung up before answering the question, so the dispatcher sent police to do a welfare check on the apartment.”

Well, that ain’t right. I told her we didn’t need an ambulance. She was fine. She was crying. And breathing.

“When police arrived at the residence, um, Judge, this is the apartment complex across from the Food Lion there on West Main Street. Um, when police arrived on the scene and knocked on Mrs. Arlotti’s apartment door, her husband, Mr. Joseph Arlotti, who goes by ‘Lee,’ answered it and stepped outside onto the landing to talk with them.”

Yeah, he didn’t want them to see me. He didn’t ever let anybody see me.

“Officers advised Mr. Arlotti that a 911 call had been made from the residence and that they were there to follow-up and make sure the child didn’t need additional medical treatment. And Mr. Arlotti told police that he had just gotten home from work and that he wasn’t aware of the choking incident. When officers asked to see the child, Mr. Arlotti told them she was sleeping but seemed fine.”

She was. She was in her crib and she was snoring away like a little piglet.

“The officers asked Mr. Arlotti several times for permission to enter the apartment, but he asked them to leave and to respect his family’s privacy, according to body cam video, Judge. They did, but a couple hours later, at 10:13 p.m., the 911 center got a call from Mr. Arlotti reporting that the infant was dead.”

No, I called. I dialed. And he took the phone out of my hand.

“Police responded again to the apartment complex, and on arrival they found Mr. Arlotti, still on the phone with dispatch, standing outside the building on the sidewalk. Um, on the portion of the sidewalk nearest to the building’s stairwell, an open-air stairwell, Judge, was the Arlotti’s 3-month-old child. The infant was unresponsive and appeared to have an injury to the back of her head. Jefferson City Fire and Rescue personnel pronounced her deceased on the scene.”

And then they just took her. He took her away from me.

“Police spoke with Mr. Arlotti, and he told them that his wife, the defendant, Judge, had thrown the child over the fourth-story banister and that she was still upstairs in the apartment. Officers went into the residence and found Mrs. Arlotti in the bathroom with a lit cigarette in her hand. And, Judge, throughout the apartment were ashes, um, on the furniture and carpet, including in Ava Arlotti’s crib.”

It wasn’t me. I wasn’t smoking. I don’t smoke. I quit. It was Lee’s.

“Police had a conversation with Mrs. Arlotti there in the bathroom, and Judge, that was all captured on body camera video. Mrs. Arlotti did not provide clear or reasonable answers to the officers’ questions. She repeatedly told them it was snowing, um, that it was, quote, ‘Too cold for angel wings.’ During the interaction, police did not observe Mrs. Arlotti actually putting the cigarette that was in her hand to her mouth, but they did watch her tap it, shaking ashes onto the bathroom floor.”

I wasn’t smoking. And it was cold. Lee hid the blankets.

“Once police realized that Mrs. Arlotti was not going to provide them with any helpful information about the incident, they walked her outside the apartment and down the stairs, where she was assessed by rescue personnel. They took her to Jefferson City Memorial Hospital, where she was seen by the on-call psychiatrist, who determined that she was exhibiting symptoms consistent with psychosis.”

Hm. No, it was abuse. I’m not crazy.

“Judge, Mr. Arlotti was interviewed briefly by police back at the apartment complex. That conversation was also captured on officer body cameras. Mr. Arlotti said that he and his wife had gotten into an argument about the ashes that were all over the apartment. He said she had started screaming and crying, repeating the words, um, ‘Snow falls, angel calls.’”

What? No. He was yelling at me. He wouldn't let me put a blanket over her.

“Um. He said that they had often gotten into arguments before about the cleanliness of the apartment.”

That’s true. He did, he left his cigarettes on the counters.

“He also said that his wife had an appointment scheduled with a therapist because she had been having some bad dreams and was not sleeping.”

Well. I wasn’t sleeping because I thought he was going to take her. He took her before.

“Judge, ultimately, according to what Mr. Arlotti said in his interview, and according to some of the complex’s surveillance camera footage that police reviewed of the Arlotti’s building, this argument that the couple had on July 27, 2022 became physical. Mr. Arlotti said that in the struggle with his wife he got some of those ashes in his eyes, and as he was trying to get them out, Mrs. Arlotti retrieved their child from the crib and rushed outside onto the landing and tossed the infant over the railing and into the air.”

I had to get her away from him. I thought . . . . I tossed her to someone there at the bottom. I saw them. They were going to catch her.

“Judge, an autopsy determined that blunt force trauma consistent with a hard fall caused the child’s death. Um, the prosecution believes the evidence is sufficient for a finding of guilt, and we would ask Your Honor to accept this plea agreement.”

It’s over. Is it over?

“Alright, Mr. Bailey, is that the evidence that the defense would have anticipated had this case gone to trial?”

“It is, Judge. Of course, we would have contested some of the facts as to my client’s state of mind on the night of this incident and the history of verbal abuse that existed between Mr. and Mrs. Arlotti. But, understanding the risks of litigation, we would also ask you accept the agreement.”

That’s right. Verbal and physical abuse, Bailey.

“Well, this is a very serious case. I don’t think, in my 15 years in this court, that I’ve ever heard such a . . . traumatic, and toxic, set of facts. And I hope I never have to hear anything like it again.”

Lord, here he comes with his big fat opinion.

“Mrs. Arlotti, it’s appalling to me that, given the things you were experiencing at the time, neither you nor your husband, who I think was just trying to do the right thing for you and for your child, that neither of you sought help. And I think you need help. So, I’m going to accept the agreement, because I think some time to be treated in a controlled environment is, really, the best thing for you, and for this community. There just have to be consequences for this kind of negligence of, well, self-care, and self-sufficiency. Do you understand?”

No. No, he hurt me. He was hurting me. He did this to me.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Alright, then, having heard your plea of no contest and having reviewed the evidence produced by the prosecution, I accept your plea and find you guilty of one count of felony aggravated murder. I sentence you, in accordance with this agreement, to 30 years of incarceration suspended after you have served 10. You will get credit for time served, and you will be on supervised probation for five years upon your release. You’ll pay your court costs and comply with post-trial services. And that means no drugs, alcohol, or cigarettes, understand?”

I don’t smoke. I quit.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“You’ll also have no contact with Mr. Arlotti. No text messages, no calls, no liking his Facebook pictures, nothing. Alright?”

He thinks I’m crazy.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Alright, then, I remand you into the custody of the sheriff. Good luck to you.”

“This court will stand in recess.”

Bye, plushy. Back to the ice box made for Lee. But instead it’s me.

It’s not me.

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This story was written in response to the Unreliable Challenge issued by Vocal: “Write a story from the perspective of an unreliable narrator.”