Chapter 34
He lacked the strength to do much, but by the grace of God, he appeared to be making progress every day.
The feeding tube had been removed, and he was consuming liquids through a metal straw.
The doctors and medical staff were amazed by his progress.
Even the cops stationed outside his door seemed to marvel at his recovery.
When Hollis attempted to speak, producing a few syllables at a time, Rocky basked in God’s miracle and thanked the Lord every day.
“We’re here, Hollis,” she said to her husband as Jamillah stood beside her. “You will overcome this, my love. God isn’t finished with you yet. And neither are we.” Rocky began to pray: “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done…”
She knew that if the family stood on the solid rock of faith, they would get through the greatest tribulation they had ever faced.
In the end, Hollis’s triumph would change the world.
It would be his testimony, and when people spoke his name and learned about his story, they would know that God was real.
Beau Lee entered the hospital room with Capes.
“We just got word,” Beau Lee said. “The appellate court gave us a hearing date so we can argue Hollis’s bail denial.”
“Thank goodness,” Rocky said. “It’s been wrecking my nerves.”
“It gives us one more shot in front of new judges.”
“So no more Lambert?”
“Not at this hearing. We’ll have three new judges to argue why Hollis should be given a reasonable bail. And if we win, we’ll go back to Judge Lambert to set the bail amount,” Beau Lee said. “And hopefully these judges will be more impartial.”
It had become clear that Lambert was making an example out of Hollis, and her decision ignored his standing in the community and the fact that he had no prior charges of any kind. It was rooted in bias and spite.
“Finn and Capes will discuss the matter with our video experts. We believe we can show that the license plate was legible based on the video. Finally, we’ve got some good news.”
Beau Lee turned to Finn and asked, “Is it possible that the police department still has possession of the damaged license plate in case it’s to be entered into evidence during the trial?”
—
In downtown Chicago, the North City Weekly Press was a bipartisan newspaper and one of the last independent publications still in print.
After Rocky had spoken to a reporter at length, they’d published an exposé on the front page.
The series continued for several weeks, with more information about Hollis’s case added in each subsequent issue.
Rocky had the fourth installment tucked under her arm when the nurses placed Hollis in a wheelchair for the first time.
She couldn’t keep herself from crying as they wheeled him, arms shackled, through a secure wing of the hospital.
They were accompanied by two CPD officers and a member of the Nation of Islam whom Harpo had tasked with keeping Hollis safe from crazies and the officers standing guard.
Rocky knew that not all the police could be trusted, and a few on Hollis’s rotation couldn’t hide their derision for her husband and their family, so she was thankful for the security of Harpo’s friend.
The fact that Hollis had even survived was a miracle, but Rocky feared what would happen if he wasn’t able to walk and function well enough for Cook County Department of Corrections medical staff to be able to properly care for him.
The doctors couldn’t forecast his full recovery, and he still required round-the-clock support.
He was unable to urinate without the aid of a catheter, and his bowel movements were few and far between.
Ultimately, she knew Hollis feared he would not be able to walk again.
However, he was trying his hardest to communicate, and Beau Lee and Alvarez took full advantage of the moment.
They spent a considerable amount of time with Hollis each day, collecting information and trying to jar his memory from the night he was shot.
“Did you recognize any of the officers who stopped you?” Beau Lee asked. “An identifying feature or distinctive way they spoke?”
“No, I don’t remember much,” Hollis said. “Everything’s coming up blank.”
“Do you remember if you had your wallet in your pocket at the time the police pulled you over?” Beau Lee asked.
Hollis replied, “I can’t remember.”
Rocky interjected, “You always have your identification when you drive. That night wouldn’t have been any different. You’ve been driving all your life and never got a traffic citation. There’s no reason you wouldn’t have had your wallet.”
“Thanks for that, Mrs. Montrose,” Beau Lee said. “We need Hollis to try to remember on his own. Hollis, can you remember anything having to do with your wallet that would have kept you from identifying yourself?”
Rocky looked on, hoping her husband would recall something that could help.
She’d been told he was experiencing what doctors referred to as “missing time”: When a person experiences something traumatic, their mind works to remove the event to protect them from pain, thus resulting in memory loss.
While the memories often return, it’s impossible to know when.
It could be weeks, months, or years before Hollis might piece together exactly what happened that night.
Beau Lee reached into his briefcase, removed Hollis’s laptop, and placed it near Hollis’s free hand. “Thought I’d return this to you,” he said. “We analyzed it and probed the hard drive for several days, but I’m afraid we weren’t able to access your data cloud.”
Hollis huffed as he tossed the laptop aside and said, “I just wish I could remember more.”
“The tide will turn in our favor,” Alvarez said. “Something will break, I’m sure of it.”
“You’ve got a good number of photos on your laptop,” Beau Lee said. “Plenty of your grandkids. If you can go through them, it might help bring your memories back. Sometimes flooding the brain with positive images helps provide clarity.”
Tears streamed down Hollis’s cheeks as he began to look through photos of his grandkids. Rocky hugged her husband, and he wept on her shoulder.
“I saw photos of the playroom you were designing,” Beau Lee said. “I guess you were documenting your progress?”
“All that HGTV I was watching,” Hollis said with a smile. “It had me thinking I was a big-time contractor.”
The men laughed, and the mood lifted.
“You’ll get your chance to finish the room soon enough,” Rocky said, wiping her and her husband’s tears. “And you know the grandkids will love it.”
Rocky moved a chair next to his bed. They were silent as Hollis clicked through the images—snippets of his life before the shooting. It seemed to brighten his spirit.
Finn entered the room holding a large, colorful tin of Garrett Popcorn, a Chicago staple and Hollis’s favorite snack.
“What’s that you got there, Doyle?” Hollis asked. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Your favorite,” he said, holding up the tin. “A few of us pooled our money together and ordered you the biggest one we could find.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Hollis asked, rubbing his palms together and nearly salivating. “Get that thing open.”
Rocky was grateful there was still enough of the old Hollis left. The shooting hadn’t completely destroyed him, and despite the uphill legal battles they were facing and the reality that he’d never walk again, he still managed to joke and smile, and that meant the world to her.