by Syndi Powell
She stalked up the steps to her front door and didn’t look back.
* * *
THE DARKENED ROOM told Mateo that it wasn’t yet dawn. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Sleeping had become more difficult as worries about Scotty mounted. The image of the kid’s face haunted his dreams, and he tossed and turned most nights. He had pondered different ways to get Scotty out of the adult jail population since his mother had called. He’d contacted the local juvenile facilities to see if there had been an opening, but they were overcrowded with the inmates they already had. He’d been researching alternatives, but hadn’t found any answers.
When it became evident that he wouldn’t get any more rest, he threw off the sheets and sat up. He wiped his face with one hand, then turned to sit on the side of the bed. He had to do something about Scotty.
After showering and drinking two cups of coffee, he pulled out his laptop and pulled up the visitation schedule for the jail. Based on Scotty’s last name, Mateo could see him that afternoon at one. So be it.
A little before one, Mateo joined the long line to check in with the police officer in charge of visitation at the Wayne County jail. He edged forward when the person in front of him got out of line and left the building. Reaching the front of the line, he gave his name, and Scotty’s.
The officer didn’t look up at him, but kept his gaze on the computer screen. “Reason for your visit?”
To ease his own conscience? Find a solution to a problem when there probably wasn’t one? Knowing the officer wouldn’t appreciate either response, he answered, “I’m his lawyer.”
Since he’d discussed what happened with Scotty with both Greg and Jack, he’d been stewing over how he’d let down Scotty with his sentencing. He should have fought harder to get his sentence changed. Should have argued that a kid shouldn’t be housed with adult inmates. Maybe it was too late to fix things, but he had to come up with something.
He waited in another line before being ushered into a large gray room with metal tables and chairs. Taking a seat close to the door where the inmates entered, he hoped that Scotty would agree to meet with him for the allotted half hour. The door opened, and several men came out, moving to tables where their visitors waited.
Mateo kept his eyes on the doorway and sighed when the tiny form of Scotty entered. Scowling, he fell into the chair opposite Mateo.
The kid’s face had yellow and purple bruises mottling his complexion, and he held his arm bent at his elbow and close to his body. But the biggest change was that his attitude seemed rough, hardened even, and it had only been weeks. “How are you doing in here, Scotty?”
The kid narrowed his eyes. “Don’t call me that. Makes me sound like a baby.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “They call me Domino in here.”
Great. The kid already had a street name. “Are you doing okay, though?”
The boy shrugged. An inmate nearby scooted his chair back, and Scotty shot up, sitting straight in the chair. The freaked-out look on his face melted something inside Mateo. Despite Scotty’s posturing, he was still a boy. Still scared and surrounded by angry men who probably gave him a hard time when guards weren’t around.
Mateo leaned in closer. “I’m sorry I haven’t been to visit you before this. I should have been by.”
“No biggie.”
“You don’t deserve to be in here. I’ll petition Judge Gorges to move you to juvie as soon as possible.” He paused at the hopeful look in the boy’s eyes. “I can’t promise that it will work. And he may want something from you before the transfer comes through, but I’ll do my best. You can’t stay here.”
Scotty nodded. “Does he still want those names?”
“Probably, but that ship might have sailed. I’ll set up a meeting with the judge and see what I can do.”
Scotty reached a hand across the table. A guard approached them and rapped his knuckles on the metal table. “No touching. You know the rules.”
The kid put his hands back into his lap and kept his gaze lowered. “I don’t want to stay in here. Tell him I’ll do whatever he wants me to do, and I’ll do it.”
“And this will be the last time you’re in this situation?”
He raised his eyes to Mateo and gave a nod. “I swear.”
“Okay.”
A guard announced the five-minute warning that the session was ending.
“Before I have to leave is there any message you want me to give to your mother?”
Scotty glanced around and then dropped his voice. “Tell her I’m sorry. I won’t do this again. Promise.”
Mateo tried to give the kid a smile. “I’ll get to work on this. In the meantime, you stay strong. I hope to see you out of here soon.”
A whistle sounded, and the inmates rose to their feet. Scotty joined the line to exit the room, turning to look at Mateo one last time before leaving.
Back in his car, Mateo pulled out his cell phone and checked his directory. It never hurt to have a judge on speed dial. He pressed Gorges’s name and waited for an answer on the other end. When he did pick up, Mateo didn’t let him speak. “Your Honor, my client, Scotty Rodriguez, needs to be moved from the Wayne County jail immediately. I’ll be filing the paperwork for his transfer this afternoon. The courts don’t want to be blamed for a kid who’s gotten beaten up living with the adult population. It doesn’t make for a good story on the six o’clock news.”
“Are you through, Mr. Lopez?”
Mateo took a deep breath. “I’m just getting started. Your Honor, the prison system is meant to rehabilitate, but the only thing Scotty Rodriguez is doing is trying to keep himself alive. Please, sir, we need to move him.”
“You’re right.”
Mateo paused and held his phone tighter to his ear. “I’m sorry. Did you say that you agree with me?” He glanced at his dashboard clock. If he could meet with the judge in the next hour, he could hopefully have Scotty transferred by the weekend or Monday morning at the latest. “So you’ll sign off on the transfer?”
“That’s not the question—it never was, Mr. Rodriguez. You have a short memory. It’s whether there’s room for him in the juvenile detention facility.” The judge paused, as if weighing the matter. “I’ve finished hearing cases for the day, but I’d be willing to meet with you to see what we can do.”
Mateo started the car. “On my way.”
He met Judge Gorges in his chambers at the county court building. “Thank you for meeting with me on Friday afternoon, Your Honor. I know you’d rather be going home than trying to resolve this situation.”
Judge Gorges glanced at him. “It never sat right with me sending that boy to the adult population.”
“Me, either.” Mateo took a seat and removed papers from his messenger bag that he’d been carrying since hearing about the prison fight. “All I need is your signature on these, and he can get transferred.”
The judge pulled the papers toward him. “The only issue is where do we place him now. There are no beds available in either of the juvenile facilities here.” Gorges raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you propose instead?”
Mateo took a deep breath. He’d read an article a few days ago that had made a brief mention of a program for teenage boys in the prison system. After several calls, he’d finally gotten an answer that afternoon. Hopefully, the judge would agree to the alternative Mateo had come up with. “I’ve contacted Captain Wallace with the juvenile boot-camp program out of Cafferty County, and they have a place for Scotty.”
“Cafferty County? You realize that is out of my jurisdiction.”
“I understand that, but the captain has gotten Judge Peterson from that county to sign off on the transfer if you will agree.” Mateo leaned forward in the chair. “Your Honor, it shouldn’t matter who has jurisdiction over a delinquent minor, but it’s truly the best placement for Scotty R
odriguez. The boot-camp program has a lower recidivism rate compared to our own county’s juvenile detention center, along with lower rates of violence among the people who are there. Scotty will be safer and come out stronger than when he went in.”
Judge Gorges held up a hand. “I can tell you’ve done your homework.” He pulled out a pen to sign his name at the bottom of the page. “I take it you’ve also discussed this with his mother?”
“She knows it’s a possibility and is willing to travel farther to see her son if it means keeping him safe, Your Honor.”
The judge handed back the sheets of paper that had just changed Scotty’s life. “Thank you, counselor.”
Mateo nodded and took the paperwork, clutching it to his chest. “Thank you, Your Honor.”
With the papers safely stowed in his bag, Mateo started to leave the office when Judge Gorges called his name. Mateo turned. “It’s good to see you in my jurisdiction again. I hope this means you’re back to helping our kids.”
Our kids. Mateo glanced at the carpet, wondering if he could really return to all that implied. Could he go back to putting his heart at risk of breaking when he took on juvenile criminal cases? The truth was that he didn’t see how he could live with himself if he didn’t keep trying. There would always be another child that needed him, and he hoped that he would always find a way to help. He squeezed his hand on the doorknob. “I don’t think I really left. Just needed a break.”
“We all do at some point. We can’t be effective at our jobs if we don’t take a step back every once in a while.” The judge rose, joining Mateo at the door. “You put yourself on the line to save one of your clients today. That’s why you’re good at what you do. Just don’t let discouragement keep you away from your purpose. To find a way where there is none. Like you just did for Scotty.”
“What if my purpose is to keep kids out of being in a situation like Scotty’s in the first place?”
“And how do you propose to do that?”
Mateo mulled over the question. “Something like matching up kids with mentors in the community, but on a larger scale. What if I could get more kids involved in the community by getting sponsors for after-school programs? By giving these teens not only a safe haven for them to hang out, but also activities to keep them busy and help them prepare for their future?”
The judge was silent for a moment. “You’re going to need a group of people to help you with that one. Have anyone in mind?”
Mateo nodded toward the judge. “You’ve always said we need to be involved in the community we work in. Can I count on your support?”
The judge laughed. “I see what you did there. Sure. Count me in. And it wouldn’t hurt to hit up Greg Novakowski. I’m sure he’s got ideas to back you up.”
Mateo thanked him and shook his hand. “I’ll be calling you.”
He reached over and opened the door for Mateo. “Have a good weekend.”
* * *
ZACH PUSHED BACK from the dining room table and patted his belly. “I don’t think I could eat another bite, Page.”
She protested. “But I have pie for dessert.”
April groaned. “Really? Don’t you think you’ve fed us enough?”
“I made dinner to thank you both for everything you’ve done for me lately. And dessert is to make sure you know how much you both mean to me.”
Page stood and started to collect the dirty dishes from the table, stacking them on top of each other, cutlery and all. Carefully carrying them to the kitchen, she placed them next to the kitchen sink and focused on the apple pie she’d bought from the bakery around the corner.
April had followed her and her friend took small plates from the cupboard and opened a drawer to grab forks. “I’m disappointed that Ruby didn’t want to join us.”
“I know. She said she was tired and didn’t want to eat anything.”
“How’s she been doing?”
It had been a little more than a week since Ruby had lost the baby, and Page was worried. Grief still laid heavy in her heart that she hesitated about how best to help Ruby. “She spends most of her time in her room, listening to music and lying on her bed.”
“That’s not good for her. She needs to be surrounded by people who love and support her. Not stuck alone in her grief.”
“I don’t know how to get through to her. It’s like she’s closed herself off from me. She won’t talk about what happened or what happens next.” She leaned on the kitchen counter. “I’m not her mother, where I could maybe make it all better.”
“But you are her friend. Her best friend and she needs you.”
Page shook her head. “I don’t think she wants to be here anymore. And can I blame her? I haven’t exactly been a barrel of laughs lately myself.”
“Ruby is looking to you to set the example of how to grieve.”
Tears gathered in Page’s eyes. “That’s the thing. I don’t know how to get over losing the baby.”
“So don’t.”
That wasn’t the response she’d expected from April. She figured her best friend would tell her to get past it so that Ruby could. That she had to fake being cheerful and happy. “You’re supposed to tell me it’s going to be okay.”
“I didn’t say it wouldn’t be. But this loss isn’t something you just get over, like it’s a cold or something.” April placed the plates and forks on the kitchen counter and took the pie from Page’s hand. “It’s okay to cry.”
“I’m done crying.”
April raised one eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? Because you look like you need to right now.” She put her arms around Page and hugged her tightly. “Let it out, Page. You’ll feel better if you do.”
The tears gathered and fell on their own despite Page’s efforts to keep them inside. She returned April’s hug. “I really wanted her.”
“I know.”
“But it seems to be that I’m not meant to have any family.”
April dropped her arms at those words. “Excuse me? And what am I?”
“You’re a friend. A good one, but you’re not family.”
April took a step back and peered into Page’s eyes. “Who do you have listed as your emergency contact?”
“Well, you, but—”
“And who is the first person you call when something happens?”
“You are.”
April nodded. “And whose family do you spend the holidays with?”
Page gave a small smile. “Yours.”
“Right. I think all that entitles us to call each other family, don’t you? We weren’t born to the same parents, but it doesn’t take having the same blood to make us sisters.”
Page pulled April into another hug as Zach entered the room. He put his arms around them both. “What are we hugging about?”
“Page being my sister,” April told him.
He nodded and tightened his hold on them both. “I guess that makes me your brother-in-law.”
Page took a deep breath and let them go, then wiped her eyes. “Okay, enough of this. Let’s have pie.”
April picked up the plates and forks while Zach took the pie with him to the dining room. Page trailed after them, but glanced down the hallway to the bedrooms. “Give me one minute.”
“Tell her that if she doesn’t get in here, she won’t get any pie.” April winked at her as she started to slice into the dessert.
Page put her ear against the closed bedroom door, hoping she could hear something. Silence. She knocked softly, turned the doorknob and stepped into the dim room. Ruby was lying on the bed, the covers pulled up to her ears. “Hey, kid. April says if you don’t join us, then you don’t get any pie.”
“Don’t want any.”
April was right. She couldn’t leave the girl to grieve alone. Page walked into the room and took a seat on the edge of the b
ed. “Why don’t you come out and be with us anyway?”
“No thanks.”
She placed a hand on Ruby’s hip and rubbed it. “It’s time to get up.”
Ruby peered at Page, shadows standing out under her eyes. “Why?”
“Why not?”
“I don’t feel like it.”
Page nodded. “I don’t feel like it, either, but that’s part of growing up.”
“And I have to eat pie?”
“No, but you have to join the land of the living again.”
Ruby closed her eyes. “I don’t deserve to.”
“Yes, you do. You deserve to grow up and become the amazing young woman I know you are. Because yes, life is mean and hard sometimes when we lose something or someone we love. But that doesn’t mean we shut ourselves away. Or give up on ourselves.” She gestured to her own body. “Do you think I deserved to get cancer three times?” The girl shook her head vigorously. “Is it okay that I lost the baby, too?”
“No.”
“You’re right. It’s not okay, but I still get out of bed every day and live my life. Even though there are some days I’d rather just pull the covers over my head.” She reached out and cupped the girl’s face with one hand. “Strong women like us don’t get the luxury of staying in bed.”
“You think I’m strong?”
“You wouldn’t have survived all that you have already if you weren’t.” Page stood and held her hand out. “Now, come on. Let’s eat some sugar and fat and pretend we’re okay for the next hour.”
“And after that?”
“Then we’ll pretend we’re okay for the next hour after that. And then the next day. And the next week. And then one day, we won’t be pretending.”
Ruby swallowed, but nodded and swung her feet over the side of the bed. “Okay.”
“Good girl.”
They left the bedroom together and in the dining room, April smiled at them and held up an ice-cream scooper. “We needed ice cream on our pie. What do you say?”
Ruby looked over at Page. “It’s easier to pretend with ice cream.”