The metal detectors seemed to unnerve the Indians, Lance noted, but not nearly as much as the tiny elevator carrying them slowly to the twentieth floor. Dakota, in particular, looked like he’d prefer to be anywhere else.
When they reached their destination, the elevator doors popped open and Dakota stepped out quickly, releasing the breath he’d been holding. The group wandered down the wide corridor to a gaggle of press corps pooled outside one of the courtrooms. Helen was there, of course, looking chic and pretty as always. When they spotted the group approaching, reporters swamped them with questions and cameras began filming.
“Sir Lance, Sir Ricky, how do you feel now that this man who raped you both is finally on trial?” Helen asked, always the most tenacious and, for such a petite woman, the loudest.
The boys looked at each other for strength.
“I hope he goes to prison for the rest of his life,” Ricky announced firmly, his deep voice surprisingly calm given the butterflies in his stomach.
Lance sighed and looked at all the expectant faces. Even Yellow Hair was there, but not smirking or leering. No, Lance noted, he looked sympathetic.
“That man in there did things to me and Ricky, and other boys, too, that should never happen to any kid,” he said, his voice laced with sadness and pain. “We got lucky, Ricky and me, cuz our Dad and Mom found us and took us in and loved us the way grown-ups are supposed to love kids.”
He glanced over at Arthur and Jenny, standing just to the side, arms around each other’s waist, and smiled with shy gratitude. They smiled in return.
Lance turned back to Helen and the others. “One of our amendments says kids on their own can charge adults for rape and the justice system will have to act. Maybe if that amendment had been in place, my friend Michael Maitland would’ve gotten justice the right way instead of doing what he did.”
There were a few surprised gasps from the reporters at the mention of Michael. Lance glanced quickly at Ricky to see if the boy looked offended, but Ricky offered a nod of encouragement.
Lance indicated Kai and Dakota, nervously shifting their feet and eyeing the cameras and microphones with deep suspicion. “These are my Native brothers, Sir Kai and Sir Dakota,” Lance announced. “On Tribal Lands, Indian children can be raped by non-Indians and the tribes can’t go after the rapist. Did you all know that?”
There were blank stares and wide eyes directed his way from the reporters.
“There’s some stupid and evil law out there that stops it,” Lance went on, his heart thumping with anger. “That’s why we need our Children’s Bill of Rights. Yes, I want to see Richard go to prison forever because of what he did to me and Ricky, and to those other kids in there who I don’t even know. But I can’t imagine being a Native kid who got raped like I did and then find out the rapist would get away with it and live free for the rest of his life. I’d probably kill myself.” He paused and lowered his eyes to the floor.
Ricky squeezed his upper arm and Lance glanced up. Ricky gave him the “look,” and Lance could breathe once more.
At that moment, the bailiff stuck his head out the door and called for Lance. That started his heart pile driving with fear, and he met Ricky’s gaze straight on. He saw love and courage and strength.
Ricky grinned. “I love you, fool. Now go send that asshole to prison.”
Lance blew out his breathy nervous laugh and smiled. God, what would he do without this boy? He followed the bailiff into the courtroom.
Arthur and Jenny followed, but Ricky had to wait in the hall because he was a material witness and wasn’t allowed to hear the testimony of others. Kai and Dakota stayed with Ricky, following their orders to protect him. The reporters began peppering Ricky with more questions, which he did his best to answer.
The courtroom was packed, as this was a high-profile case. The plaintiffs had charged Richard with child rape, but also charged the Department of Children and Family Services as an accessory after the fact for covering up Richard’s abuses and allowing them to continue. Thankfully, this one appearance would be Lance’s sole involvement.
Arthur and Jenny stood on either side of him, each with a hand on one shoulder for support. The district attorney, a tall, handsome middle-aged man named Reed, glanced back and spotted them. Then he turned to the judge. “The state calls Lance Pendragon to the stand.”
Heads turned and eyes filled up with expectation as Lance nervously started forward up the center aisle toward the swinging wooden gates, one of which was held open by the bailiff.
Lance could feel everyone’s eyes pinned to him, but he walked with as strong and upright a posture as he could muster. Dressed in his fancy tunic and freshest leather pants and boots, Lance knew he needed to project an air of both strength and victimization at the same time. He glanced left toward the wide-eyed jurors seated in the jury box, forcibly keeping his eyes from drifting right, to the defendant’s table, to the face of the boogeyman he knew would be seated there.
The judge, Lanced noted peripherally, was a white-haired guy with a neatly trimmed beard and mustache and rather sympathetic blue eyes. Lance stepped into the witness box and faced the court clerk, who had him raise his right hand and swore him in.
Once seated, Lance was asked to state and spell his name for the record. He did so, his eyes fixed on the little microphone before him. He still hadn’t glanced up and over at the table. Would he see a repentant Richard or one who’d gladly do those same things to him again if given the chance?
Once Lance had spelled his name, Reed stepped up to the witness box and smiled. It felt odd to Lance that now he was on the other side of a case and the D.A. was his friend, not his enemy. Crazy system.
“Lance, thank you for coming here today. I know this must be difficult for you.
Lance bit his lower lip nervously, but still didn’t glance to his left. He didn’t have to, anyway. He could feel Richard’s eyes boring into him and knew the answer to his earlier question.
“You have stated on several occasions to the media that you were raped by a foster parent at the age of six?” Reed asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.
Lance stiffened. “Yes.”
“Do you see the man who raped you in this courtroom?”
That was it. Now he had to look. Expelling a breath, struggling to calm his pounding heart, Lance pictured Ricky’s face and felt the touch of Ricky’s hand in his, and suddenly he was calm. Even the tightness of his body began to loosen. Looking to his left, Lance beheld the man of his nightmares, his personal Freddy Krueger; the man who’d tormented his memories and destroyed his childhood.
Richard’s eyes fixed firmly on his, squinty and hard. The boogeyman was dressed in a nice brown suit and light burgundy tie and looked professional and innocent, until he smirked.
Lance found he wasn’t tight with fear. No. Ricky made him strong. He was King Arthur’s son, heir to the crown. He was a Knight of the Round Table. He was one spirit in two boys. And this man had no power over him. He raised one arm and pointed at Richard.
“That’s him, sitting there in the brown suit.”
He gazed another long moment at Richard, and suddenly saw him for what he was––a sick, twisted little man who had made it his life’s work to destroy children and render them socially and psychologically impotent. He’d seemed so huge, so toweringly evil and terrifying when Lance was a child. But he wasn’t. In truth, he was nothing.
Feeling renewed, the feel of Ricky in the palm of his no-longer-shaking hand, Lance turned back to Reed calmly.
The district attorney asked Lance to describe, however he was able, the abuses Richard had perpetrated on him as a child. And Lance did, evenly and in detail. He described every atrocity the man had ever committed against his mind and body. One memory led to another, and one by one he purged himself of their power over him. Finally they were out in the cold light of day. Most of these he’d never even shared with Ricky. Now the whole world knew. And suddenly Lance felt free of their ponderous
weight.
He even looked Richard straight in the eye while detailing his crimes, met that haughty gaze without fear. His heart felt calm, his breathing steady. Tears forced their way out. Those he couldn’t control. But he never broke. Ricky kept him strong. It took him nearly an hour of testimony, and more questions by Reed, to detail every horrific act Richard had committed against him, and Lance could see from the corner of his eye the appalled and disgusted faces of the jurors.
When Reed finished his questions, rather than feel exhausted and drained, Lance felt rejuvenated, strong and secure. He was almost a man, and today was the day his childhood demons got sent to the scrap heap of distant memory, hopefully never to rise again. There was no word for a child’s fear, he knew, but there was a way to conquer it. And this was it. This was the beginning of the end.
Richard’s attorney asked a few questions, trying to suggest that Lance was exaggerating or even lying, but Lance remained rock solid and steady and coolly restated in even more graphic detail than before exactly what Richard had done to his young body and spirit. Finally, the attorney must’ve decided he was doing his client more harm than good and said, “No further questions.”
“Witness is excused,” the judge intoned. His voice sounded strained, and Lance could hear sadness there, too. Standing serenely, Lance nodded to the jury and the D.A., cast one more placid look at the man who would no longer control his life, and strode briskly down the center aisle without looking back. Arthur and Jenny, both of whom had cried during Lance’s heartbreaking testimony, wrapped loving arms around him and just held him a moment before the bailiff ushered them out.
As soon as Lance stepped into the hall reporters threw questions at him from all directions. But his eyes sought out only one person––Ricky. The boy he loved sat on one of the benches with Kai on one side and Dakota on the other. Upon seeing Lance, Ricky leapt to his feet excitedly.
Lance’s face broke into a smile of such joy that Ricky almost laughed. And then they were together, arms enveloping each other in a tight embrace. Lance didn’t care that everyone was watching. He was finally breaking free of Richard’s hold over him because this boy gave him the strength and courage and love to break free.
“I love you, Ricky,” he whispered with breathless abandon. “God, I love you so much!”
Ricky smirked. “I know.”
Lance laughed and shoved him away. “Dumbass.” He saw Kai grinning and Dakota scowling with discomfort beside him, but nothing mattered except Ricky.
The reporters flung questions at Arthur and Lance just as the bailiff stuck his head out of the court and called Ricky inside. Lance grabbed Ricky’s hand and squeezed, eliciting a smile from the keeper of his heart. “Go get ’im, fool.”
Ricky turned to follow the bailiff through the double doors and out of sight. Arthur accompanied him.
Dakota and Kai now flanked Lance protectively as he answered reporters’ questions, and explained how confronting Richard in this way had felt cathartic and even empowering. While they waited for Ricky to finish, Lance answered more questions about the CBOR and clarified some of the points he’d made previously.
Wiping away tears, Jenny shared her feelings on hearing the horrific details of Lance’s childhood, and expressed immense pride in her son for his courage in sharing such humiliating atrocities. Lance allowed her to hold him, not caring that it might make him seem like a little boy in front of the media. With parents who loved you, he knew, you always needed hugs no matter how old you were, and he cherished the love this woman felt for him.
Unlike Lance, Ricky was inside for about twenty minutes since he’d only had one unsavory and painful encounter with the child rapist. When he emerged with Arthur, Ricky went straight to Lance.
“You know what, fool?” he said, eyes alight with power. “I thought I’d be sacred shitless facing that asshole, but you made me feel like Superman in there!” He laughed. “I mad dogged that piece of shit for all I was worth when I described what he did to me, and thinking of you made him into nothing. Man, Lance, you make me so strong!”
He gushed with love and hope, and Lance laughed again. “I better, cuz your weak ass couldn’t do anything without me.”
Ricky grinned. “Yeah, how ’bout I body slam your dumbass right here in front of all these nice reporters?”
Lance grinned even more. “Bring it on, fool.”
The boys high-fived and threw an arm around the shoulders of a startled Dakota and a chuckling Kai.
“C’mon, guys, let’s go home,” Lance said, feeling that he’d taken a major step toward shedding his past once and for all. “Ready Dad, Mom?”
Arthur and Jenny happily followed the boys toward the elevators, Ryan and Gibson in the lead, leaving the press behind to pounce on the next hapless person to exit the courtroom.
†††
Dakota squirmed beneath Lance’s arm as they road down in the elevator, but Kai seemed content resting beneath Ricky’s. They were the only group in the elevator anyway, so what difference did it make? Lance felt so giddy he wanted to grab Dakota’s face and forcibly stretch it into a smile, but the Indian merely stood stiffly between Lance and Ricky and kept his narrowed eyes pinned to the doors.
As the group stepped through the glass doors leading out of the building, Ryan and Gibson stopped everyone at the top of the stairs just outside to scan the parking lot for potential danger. Dakota and Kai also sent their keen-eyed gazes roaming every which way. Lance and Ricky looked around for anything suspicious.
Perhaps out of instinct, Kai and Dakota glanced upward and both saw it at the same time.
“Look out!” they shouted simultaneously and shoved Lance and Ricky forward, sending all four of them sprawling to the pavement. A second later something big slammed into the ground with a tremendous CRASH right where they’d been standing!
Everyone whirled at once, Ryan and Gibson whipping out their guns, Arthur and Jenny staring aghast at the fallen boys a split second before running to them in fear. Dakota had jumped atop Lance and Kai atop Ricky, but still managed to cushion their falls to the hard concrete by rolling slightly as they went down.
“Lance, Ricky!” Arthur called out as he reached for them. Then Ryan and Gibson were there, too, and security officers and visitors from inside the CCB lobby began spilling out the doors to find out what had happened.
Lance scrambled to his feet, grasping Arthur’s right hand while Ricky took his father’s left. The boys were more stunned than hurt, gazing at the two Indians with admiration and gratitude.
“Thanks, man,” Lance said to Dakota, who stood as impassively as ever, while Ricky gushed, “Wow, you’re fast, Kai,” and drawing a nervous laugh from the Navajo.
“Are you all right?” Jenny asked breathlessly, checking over all four of the boys for injuries or cuts.
“We’re good, Mom. Thanks to these guys,” Lance said with a nervous grin aimed at Dakota and Kai. Truth be told, that near miss spooked him more than he wanted to admit. He’d been so caught up in his feelings of liberation from Richard that he’d almost gotten Ricky killed. Himself, too.
Now they turned to see what had fallen. Ricky gasped. It was one of those oblong window-washing units, easily fifteen feet long. It would have crushed them for sure. More people continued spilling out of the building, staring in horror at the twisted metal, and the most famous family in the world.
Lance looked up the massive side of the building and frowned. Cables dangled loosely high above near the top floor, but no one was visible on the roof. He turned his gaze back to Ryan. “That was close.”
Ryan’s gaze flew everywhere protectively. “You’re telling me. Lucky these guys think smart,” he said indicating the Indians with a tilt of his head. “C’mon everyone, let’s roll.”
“You lead, Ry, I’ll take the rear,” Gibson said, his own eyes up and roaming.
Ryan nodded, gun still poised and ready, and led the group down the flight of steps to their parked cars. He didn’
t breathe easy until pulling into the New Camelot parking lot, and even then he had his gun out and ready until everyone was safe within the hotel.
†††
The falling equipment had not been an accident. Everyone already knew that, so it came as no surprise when just before dinner Gibson got a call from LAPD explaining that the cables had been purposely severed.
Dinner was more somber than it should have been given Lance and Ricky’s purging of so many personal demons in court, but everyone’s thoughts were focused on the next attack that would inevitably come. The last had been in December, and this one four months later. Would their enemy step it up or would they have to wait several more months before the next one? They couldn’t get complacent. Arthur and Jenny knew it; Ryan and Gibson knew it. The adults hammered this idea home to the boys all through dinner, and once again Arthur expressed his gratitude to Dakota and Kai, and his happiness that they were among his most loyal knights.
Kai almost turned red at the compliment and Dakota looked shocked, as though no one had ever expressed such sentiments to him before. Lance filed this observation away along with the other bits and pieces he’d noted about the boy.
Later that night, after Lance and Ricky took turns reading parts of Treasure Island to Chris, they gathered in Lance’s room with Dakota and Kai to talk strategy. The four of them sat in a circle on Lance’s bed. Lance and Ricky wore tank tops and workout shorts, and Lance noted, with some discomfort, Kai’s eyes drifting to Ricky’s toned arm muscles on more than one occasion.
“So,” Lance began, finally getting to ask the question he’d wondered about all day, “what made you guys look up today?”
Kai shrugged and Dakota tilted his head as though considering his answer. “Out on the rez,” he finally said after a pause, “there are no tall buildings. Only Father Sky. But birds of prey roam the sky and we Indians are trained never to be surprised from any direction.”
And The Children Shall Lead Page 20