Behind the Robe

by Barbara Sattler

  Beverly had been on the family bench for more than five years. Her least favorite assignment. “Divorced parents, at least the ones who use the court system to solve their problems, are angry at their ex-spouses and irrational. If either mentions something positive about their kids instead of trashing their spouses, they win.”

  Lourdes recalled hearing lawyers joke that in criminal cases you get bad people on their best behavior and in divorce cases good people on their worst. She got irritated when people said that. She doesn’t believe people charged with crimes are always bad, but maybe the other part is true.

  “Doesn’t everyone who wants a divorce or a change in custody have to use the court system?” Lourdes asks Beverly.

  “Yes. But some people agree on most issues and work with a mediator on the rest. If parents put their kids’ interests first, cases can usually be settled. It’s only when one or both want vengeance that a case goes to a judge. Or if big money’s involved.”

  Lourdes is glad quality of education isn’t an issue. The girls, twins, will be fine at either school. Both schools have high graduation rates and their students are accepted at good colleges.

  Lourdes doesn’t know much about Jewish schools, but she’s an expert on Catholic ones. St. Peter’s until high school. St. Paul’s the next four years. At St. Peter’s, the nuns were mostly Anglo and favored Anglos. Sister Elizabeth hit her hands with a ruler if she spoke Spanish. Her mom complained, but by then Lourdes has learned her lesson. Speak English. Don’t complain.

  Do Jewish schools have uniforms? She hated the parochial school ones featuring plaid skirts two inches below the knee. She didn’t leave St. Paul’s a good Catholic. At least she never got molested.

  The standard in custody cases is ‘best interest of the child.’ She understands ‘reasonable doubt.’ For eight years she explained it to juries. But best interest of the child? What does that mean? Is it more important to stay with friends or make new friends? Learn Hebrew or learn Spanish? Immerse yourself in your culture or diversity? Which choice promotes family harmony?

  Judge Fischer is going to represent himself. ‘He who represents himself has a fool for a client.’ We’ll see.

  His ex is represented by Jill Carlson, one of the premier divorce attorneys in Tucson. Aggressive, a bull-dog and very, very expensive.

  At the time of the divorce both parents were awarded joint custody. There were many conditions about when the girls would be with each parent, but nothing about where they would go to school. The twins had attended the local public school from kindergarten on and had completed seventh grade when Fischer filed for this change. As part of the pleadings, Lourdes had gotten transcripts from the kids’ school. Both were good students, active in extracurricular activities and, according to their teachers, well-liked by their peers and teachers. Why would Fischer want to take his daughters out of an environment where they were doing well and change their life? Thirteen is such a difficult age no matter what.

  “Mr. Fischer, you . . .”

  “Please call me Judge Fischer.”

  “Judge Fischer, you have the burden on this. Why do you want your daughters to change schools?”

  “My wife promised to raise the children Jewish. We agreed she didn’t have to convert, but she was supposed to learn and practice our traditions. She hasn’t followed through. Thinks it’s enough she doesn’t take them to Christian Church. She totally lacks any spirituality.”

  “Objection, Your Honor, irrelevant. The issue is what school, not my client’s spirituality.”

  “Denied, but you’re getting close to the line. Please answer my question.”

  “Judaism is very important in my life. On her weeks my wife doesn’t have Shabbat dinner or take the girls to Friday night services.” He points at his ex. “She had a Christmas tree this year.”

  “Mr., excuse me, Judge Fischer, please answer my question. Why would it be in your daughters’ best interest to go to the Hebrew academy?”

  “Besides the fact that the quality of education is higher than in Arizona public schools, they teach Jewish history and religion. Their mom can’t teach that. I want them to be in an environment where they are taught Jewish values such as modesty and the importance of the family. I don’t want them in public school where kids their age have oral sex.”

  “Objection, Your Honor. That’s outrageous.”

  “Sustained. Judge Fischer, the point of this hearing is not for you to make accusations against your wife or the school. You understand what’s relevant and what isn’t.”

  “Ms. Carlson, can you tell me why your client wants the children to remain in public school?”

  “First, Your Honor, I need to reply to what Mr. Fischer said. When they were married, they never took the girls to services and rarely had Shabbat dinner.”

  “They were younger then,” Judge Fischer interrupts.

  “You had your turn, Judge Fischer, stop interrupting. And, Ms. Carlson, please answer the question.”

  “The girls like the public schools they’re in. Next year they’ll go to Tucson High. They can walk to school. Their friends live in the neighborhood. The Hebrew Academy is a twenty-minute drive, and my client is the one who drives them to school. She’s very active in the PTO and other school activities. She wouldn’t be comfortable at the Hebrew school and I doubt if Judge Fischer has the time for that much involvement.”

  “Mrs. Perkins-Fischer also wants the girls to continue to learn Spanish. She feels since they live in a community where many people speak Spanish, and they live sixty miles from Mexico, learning Spanish is more important than Hebrew. It’s also helpful when applying for a job.”

  Lourdes fades out. Mom had gotten Dad to the hospital in time for the ER Doc to give him a drug that curtails damaged caused by the stroke. She’d seen him last night. Although weak, he knew her and was coherent. She should be with him. Mom had stayed last night and was there now. She needs to rest, but there is nothing Lourdes can do until this is over. She is a judge.

  She asks each counsel several more questions. Judge Fischer doesn’t seem to have a good reason to change the kids’ school other than to make life harder for his ex-wife. It’s almost a no-brainer. The girls should stay where they are.

  She remembers a book her book club read although the title escapes her. A divorced mother had sex with her boyfriend in the bedroom where her six-month-old baby slept. The ex-husband learned about it and tried to take custody away from her. Lourdes had been shocked when half the group thought the mother should lose custody and half thought the mother hadn’t done anything wrong. Does the outcome of a case like this depend on which judge you get?

  She hardly knows anything about this family. She hasn’t met the kids, talked with them. Doesn’t know for sure what they think about school. Why can’t these parents work this out themselves?

  The hearing is done. She could take it under advisement, but she knows no amount of research or thought will change her mind.

  “I’ve listened to what both parties have to say. Judge Fischer, you have the burden of proof. You haven’t presented any evidence that moving the kids to the Hebrew Academy is in their best interest. It is the order of the court, that the plaintiff’s motion is denied. The children are to remain in public school.”

  TWELVE

  Because of her dad’s illness, Lourdes hadn’t had a chance to get together with Bev. Or Molly. The good news is he’d been released from the hospital into rehab. Lourdes tried to get there whenever she could to see him, and to give Mom some relief. Even when Dad was in therapy or exercise class Mom stayed with him. She’d fall asleep almost anytime she was alone or even with people around when there was a lull in the conversation. Lourdes caught her sleeping in the dining hall at the rehab center.

  Dad has ten days of rehab covered by insurance before he comes home. She suggests Mom get a health care aide or nurse to come
in a few hours a day after he’s released. Mom’s adamant, “Dad won’t like having strangers in our home,” or “You think I’m not competent to take care of him,” and, when she’s most overwhelmed, “No, no, no I won’t have it, it’s my house.”

  Tia Gloria was visiting her grandchildren back east when dad had his stroke. “Mom, you should call her. She’ll help.”

  “No, I’m not going to call her and don’t you. She’s been looking forward to seeing the grandkids. She hasn’t seen them for months.”

  She thought about calling her anyway, but didn’t want Mom wasting energy being angry at her. Lourdes called some of the other relatives, but if they showed up at all, all they did was create extra work. If they came to the hospital she raced around getting them coffee or donuts from the cafeteria. If they came to the house, Mom cooked for them.

  The good news was her cousin Carmen called Tia Gloria who flew back to help. Lourdes’ brother, Steve, also came down on the weekends. Lourdes had been forbidden by her Mom to tell him, “Don’t interfere with his school.” She did anyway.

  Lourdes finally takes a break from her routine and plans lunch with Beverly who suggests they eat in her chambers. “I like eating in. It’s healthier,” Bev points to her salad. “And I can avoid running into lawyers. I hate all the phony ‘Hi, Your Honor,’ ‘Nice to see you Judge,’ when most are thinking about the trial they lost because you were biased against them, the last motion you ruled against them, or the last time you yelled at them for no reason. Like being twenty minutes late is no reason.”

  “I notice you haven’t started eating, Lourdes, do you need some utensils or to put something in the microwave?”

  She pulls her sandwich out of a bag. “No, I’m good.”

  Bev took a few bites of her salad, made a face, and continued. “A couple years ago I was in the restroom after a seminar where lawyers and judges talk about a legal issue. No one realized I was in there. I heard two of the lawyers talking about my ‘evil eye’. I walked out and smiled at them. Of course, when I see either of them in public they act like my new best friends. How’s your dad?”

  “Getting out of rehab in a few days. I’m more worried about my Mom. She’s totally exhausted and won’t let anyone help.”

  “Parents. Both of mine passed several years ago. I still miss them every day. But their last years were hell. They couldn’t take care of themselves and wouldn’t move out of their large home. It was dirty and ill-cared for. My dad drove even after he had several minor collisions. Eventually he was cited for leaving the scene of an accident. ‘It wasn’t me,’ he insisted.”

  “Did you represent him or were you already a judge?”

  “Judge. I hired a lawyer friend to represent him. He wanted to go to trial. I was afraid if he was on his own he’d scream at the prosecutor or the judge. He got very argumentative, even aggressive, as he grew older. I was afraid if he acted out the City Court judges would all recuse themselves, they’d have to get an out-of-county judge and the whole thing would become a big fiasco.”

  “What happened?”

  “He backed up, hit a parked car. Kept going. A neighbor got the incident on camera. The judge suspended his license for a year. He kept trying to get it back. None of our family would help. They knew he was a menace. He had a friend drive him to the DMV, but he couldn’t pass the eye test.”

  Lourdes doesn’t want to leave without asking for advice. “Remember that custody case I had involving Judge Fischer?”

  “Sure, everyone knew about it. Refresh my memory.”

  Lourdes summarizes what happened in court trying to be as succinct as possible.

  “Which way are you leaning?” Bev asks.

  “I ruled against the judge.”

  “Ballsy,” Bev replies. “Why?”

  “I think the kids should stay at public school. They were both doing fine. Their friends live in the area and the Jewish school is 20 minutes away by car. It’ll be tough on the mom to be involved in a Jewish school. I went to Catholic school. We had students that weren’t Catholic, but their families never seemed involved. Anyway, Judge Fischer had no good reason for them to change.”

  Bev didn’t say anything.

  “You think I blew it?”

  “Not at all. I’m proud of you. Many judges would’ve had trouble ruling against another judge. Good for you for listening to your gut.”

  Lourdes is relieved. She’d put the hearing out of her mind, but wasn’t sure she’d done what was right. “I learned one thing. I never want to be a family judge. I’m happy in criminal where I can rule on evidence and juries can rule on guilt or innocence.”

  Lourdes has Friday afternoon free. The DUI trial she’d been scheduled to preside over this week was dismissed. A missing witness. The jury commissioner asks if she can hear an aggravated assault case next week. She wonders if she can say no, but she’d rather have a trial than not. The case is re-assigned to her.

  She spends most of the weekend visiting her dad, who’s now in rehab, and catching up on her sleep. Carlos visits but only for a short time each day.

  Monday she drives to court and realizes that she’s feeling a lot more comfortable in the new job. She looks forward to having a trial on Tuesday and hopes it doesn’t go away. Dismissals and pleas aren’t uncommon, but the next morning the case is still alive.

  Jury selection goes quickly. In an hour six men and two women sit in the jury box. They are diverse group as to age and race.

  From the opening statements she learns the case results from a bar brawl. The Dallas Cowboys are playing the New England Patriots and the game is broadcast on several TVs. Fans on each side yell nasty remarks about the other team which soon escalate to personal insults.

  As the men get drunker it gets louder and nastier. After the Patriots win, a Cowboys fans pushes a Patriots fan and a brawl ensues. Lots of black eyes and bruises, but one guy (who wasn’t there to watch football) gets hit in the head with a beer bottle. Needs stitches.

  By the time the police arrive most of the brawlers have left. None of the guys on either side want to rat out anyone. The police arrests seem somewhat random to Lourdes. From the file she can tell four men were arrested. Two have pled out to misdemeanor assault, one had his case dismissed. Lourdes’ trial is for the remaining defendant.

  None of the state’s witnesses tell a coherent story:

  “I didn’t know who started it.”

  ”I was just minding my own business.”

  “I don’t remember . . . ”

  After the state’s witnesses finish testifying, Lourdes directs a verdict in favor of the defense. The state’s evidence is too weak. There’s not enough evidence to show the defendant did anything but enter the bar and have a drink. Ralph Bloom, the defense lawyer, has been a PD for only a few months. This is his first trial. A directed verdict or DV is a victory. He seems happier than his client. The prosecutor looks at her with a sigh that seems to say, “I know you had no choice.”

  Even though the prosecutor doesn’t seem upset, Lourdes realizes this is the third case in a row she’s ruled against the state. She had worried two was too many and now she’s done it again. She doesn’t want a reputation as pro defense or pro prosecution. Her aim is to be fair. She’s followed the law. That’s the best she can do.

  Lourdes is pleased to have some free time. The following Monday she’s scheduled to take over drug court. The previous drug court judge had prepared a manual she needs to read. Drug Court has different procedures and objectives than criminal court. She starts reading when Mary buzzes. “Your mom, line two. She seems upset.”

  “Lourdes, your papa wants to go home, not finish the rehab.” She pauses and sobs. “He refuses to do anything. Can you come here, now?”

  “Okay.”

  Lourdes doesn’t know what to do. She wants to leave, but doesn’t know if she has to ask permission or
tell someone she’s leaving and if so, who.

  Lourdes dials Bev. “My dad’s acting up at rehab and my mom needs me. I don’t know what to do. Do I need to ask the Presiding Judge or something?”

  Bev gives a chuckle. “You’re adorable. Do you need someone to cover? If you’re in trial, just end early. It’s your call.”

  “No, I DV’d it. My calendar’s empty.”

  “Then leave. Let Mary know how to get hold of you. I’ll send you a memo I have about leave. I’m surprised HR didn’t send you one. Not that anyone reads it.”

  “Thanks.”

  THIRTEEN

  Earlier that afternoon Carlos had called Lourdes and suggested they have dinner out. He had a ‘surprise’. But instead of date night, she’s on her way to visit her dad at rehab.

  As she enters the small room she can feel the tension. Her dad’s sitting up in bed, arms crossed. Her mom is slumped in a chair next to the bed, her eyes red. They’re both silent.

  She gives her mom a hug and sits on the edge of the bed.

  “Hey, Dad, how are you?” She rubs his hand.

  “How the hell do you think?” Lourdes senses disapproval from her mom. Her dad rarely used even mild profanity in front of her. “I don’t need more therapy. I wanna go home. My own bed.”

  “You can hardly walk. Mom can’t help you get around.”

  “Once I get home I’ll be better. I can have therapy there.”

  “Why don’t you like it here?” Lourdes knows it’s a stupid question the second she opens her mouth.

  “Why? The food has no taste. People tell you what to do every minute. Those slave drivers make me exercise all day.”

  “You’re exaggerating, Frank . . .”

  “They think I’m not trying.”

  Lourdes and her dad go around and around. The more she tries to persuade him the more he balks. No dinner with Carlos.