The sign said Michelle Reynolds, M.D. Diplomate, American Board of Psychiatry, but instead of readying the couch, Michelle was pouring tea for two in her office as she watched Diane Evans park her car and make her way toward the office.
Michelle and Diane went back a long ways…to the second grade class in Santa Fe they’d shared, although Michelle really hadn’t known her all that well even though they’d graduated from Santa Fe \High School in the same class, Diane as Valedictorian, Michelle as Salutatorian…at least not until ten years ago. Michelle had learned quite a lot about Diane since then, because even the New Mexico Department of Social Services, for all it’s faults, had been a little concerned about allowing a woman to adopt two foundling kids only two years after attempting suicide.
As Michelle reviewed the old records she shook her head. It hadn’t been a suicide gesture either,…it had been the real thing. Had Philip not come home early that day…found her…gotten her to medical help…Diane Evans would not be amongst the living today. It was a fascinating story…had the canon of ethics of psychiatry let her tell anyone.
Both Michelle and Diane had come of age in a Santa Fe that was very different from the rest of the state. What today would be called ‘progressive’ back then had been liberal, unashamedly so, and in a state where ….excepting degrees in K-12 education, less than 10% of the college students had been women, Michelle and Diane had been products of the feminist movement that had been nurtured in the 60s and was only then seeing expression in the young girls of Santa Fe New Mexico. It had almost been unheard of for girls of their mother’s generation to aspire to become lawyers or doctors. But not so for her and Diane.
Diane Gilroy…her name back then…hadn’t really been an Ice Princess….she had just had no time for boys. At her Valedictory speech she had indicated that the world was now open to the women of their age, and that they could have it all...college…grad school…careers…and family. And it wasn’t that Diane hadn’t done well with her life, Michelle said to herself…it was just that she’d had a sort of tortuous road getting there.
Diane Gilroy had met Philip Evans in her pre-Law classes at The University of New Mexico. He was just a small town kid from Roswell who wanted to practice law…have a wife and family…he really had no aspirations of being a big time lawyer or Supreme Court Justice…. His plans were to go to the UNM Law School and return to Roswell, …but that was before he met Diane Gilroy.
Politically the two were poles apart, and she tried her best to ignore the fact that Philip was head over heels in love with her. She wanted to go to Harvard…become editor of the Harvard Law Review, and ultimately become a partner in a prestigious law firm, and he was just a kid from a small town who wanted a quieter life. She was sure they weren’t compatible. So for almost two years she ignored him...he wasn't part of her dream...she wasn't a part of his.
It didn’t work out quite like she thought. Philip played guitar, and one night as she was studying a mariachi band began to serenade outside her apartment house. The guitarist was Philip Evans. They dated most of sophomore year before he asked her to marry him. She couldn’t give up her dream, and turned him down flat…softening the blow by moving in with him the summer before their junior year. But Philip surprised her…he made her dream his own, …studied harder than he’d ever studied in his life, and both were accepted to Harvard Law. He did manage to get her to tie the knot before they left for Massachusetts finally.
And Diane did wind up getting her dream…a law degree from Harvard… editor of the Law Review…a choice clerkship..doing well on the bar exam…and finally a partner on one of the most prestigious law firms on the East coast. That’s when it fell apart.
She’d known that Philip hadn’t really wanted or needed any of that…that he would have been more than hapopy to settle for just her and a family…but she’d told herself…rationalized…that she could make it up to him once she had the big brass ring. But it hadn’t worked out that way. Most women stay fertile way up into their forties, but it’s a statistical thing. Women’s fertility, actually, starts to decline in the late twenties…and that’s the average. As with any statistic, it tended to follow a bell-shaped curve, and senior partner Diane Evans of the prestigious law firm Proxford-Gilman LLP after a year of trying was told by her gynecologist that she was one of the women who had been on the far left side of that bell shaped curve, and that her time had run out and she would never conceive a child. Philip had handled it alright, but Diane hadn’t. She felt betrayed…and worse, she felt that she’d betrayed her husband. She offered to divorce him…to let him find someone else who could give him his dream, and he’d refused. He really did love her. But Diane couldn’t accept that…she’d become depressed, first sought refuge in tranquilizers and antidepressants….but even that hadn’t been enough.
One day Philip had kissed her goodbye and taken the subway off to his own far less prestigious office, and she’d overdosed on all those pills…leaving a note behind telling him she loved him but that he should make a new life without her…the kind of life he would have had if she hadn’t come along and ruined his. Only a forgotten legal brief that had caused him to return an hour later and find her still breathing had enabled Diane to survive.
Diane had been hospitalized for two weeks, and eventually Philip had taken her home….not to the luxury apartment in Boston…but to a modest house in Roswell New Mexico…where he’d devoted his life to trying to make her happy and convince her that she was enough to make him happy. But even that hadn’t worked…she had refused to go to counseling…kept pushing him away. He’d taken her up to Santa Fe to try to get her folks to talk some sense in to her…but even that hadn’t worked. On the trip back she’d demanded a divorce and he’d known that under the no-fault divorce law of New Mexico, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He’d tried to talk to her the whole way…and not gotten a word out of her…not until she’d seen the two naked children in the headlights of the car. Those two kids, Michelle was sure, had saved Diane’s marriage…and her life.
No, the department had not been particularly happy when they’d heard that the wife of the married couple that had found…and wanted to adopt, ‘Toddler A’ and Toddler B,’ had been diagnosed with depression and had attempted suicide…but it wasn’t like there were a hell of a lot of people that wanted to adopt two six year olds who couldn’t speak ANY language, and weren’t even potty-trained.
So for two years, Michelle had seen Diane Evans twice a week….two years during which Diane Evans had given up her career and stayed home with those to foundling children providing foster care..until the Department was finally convinced enough to let the Evans adopt little Max and Isabel. Two years during which Diane had bloomed…even as the children had, to become one of the happiest persons Michelle knew. No longer the driven super-achiever, Diane had been content to work part-time in the office she shared with the man who loved her so much, to donate a day a week to the pro-bono legal aid office in Roswell, and to be a mom and wife…and for the last eight years Michelle and Diane had seen one another only as friends.
And that was why Michelle was pouring tea in her office, as the receptionist ushered Diane Evans in to her office.
“Diane…good to see you..”
“I wish it were under better circumstances…I really think I fouled up somehow…it’s about Max…not that I’m altogether happy about Isabel either, but all this summer Max has been upset…and the last six weeks…”
“Sit down and have some tea and we’ll talk about it,” said Michelle trying to keep the smile off her face. She wondered if Diane would ever realize just how much she’d accomplished…taking two practically feral children in at age six, and making them into human beings. Michelle was well aware of the literature on such children…they could rarely ever be mainstreamed let alone being like the Evans kids. Sure, the kids were a little stand-offish…didn’t socialize all that well, Max with his shyness, Isabel keeping everyone outside her family at arm’s length…but compared to the problem children Michelle saw every day in her practice….Diane and Philip had done wonders. No, the only thing wrong with Diane Evans was that she still felt guilty…guilty about not giving Philip the life she thought he wanted.. Michelle knew better. Philip was one of the happiest men she knew, and Diane and the kids were the reason.
“So…tell me what the problem is,” said Michelle.
Decisions AUwA (Mature) 12/28/10 [WIP]
Moderators: Anniepoo98, ISLANDGIRL5, truelovepooh, Forum Moderators
Re: Decisions AUwA (Mature) 3/15/2008
The phone had barely started to ring when she answered it; "Evans & Evans Attorneys, Carlita speaking...."
Carlita-Maria LoneEagle had started out life as Carlita-Maria Garcia, and frequently claimed that on her parents side she was related to a third the population of New Mexico. Seven years ago she'd married Robert LoneEagle, who was one-quarter Mescalero Apache on his father's side. She laughed that her in-laws accounted for most of another third of the population of New Mexico. Carlita had worked for the Evans' as their part-time office manager...bookkeeper, and all around handy person for ten years, in large part because the family medical benefits were more comprehensive than her husband got in his much better paying job...working for one of the wildcat oil drill outfits that still existed in eastern New Mexico and northwest Texas. That and the fact that the Evans' were the most family friendly palce Carlita knew.
A lot of small businesses, Carlita-Maria knew, would have gotten upset over the time she'd missed work. She'd had three pregnancies in those seven years, and even though she had more than adequate relatives in the area who were happy to provide childcare, she knew her childbirth and family responsibilities had left the Evans' scrambling for temporary coverage on more than one occasion, and Carlita felt a little sheepish about that...at least until the day that Diane Evans had sat down with her and told Carlita her story...and told her that the Evans' would do anything it took to make sure that Carlita had her own opportunity to have here children and time to bond with them....and a job waiting for her to come back to when she was ready. Carlita had watched Diane take two years off when the couple had adopted their children, and she knew the Evans' meant every word they said. And that was one of the things that had evoked such a fierce loyalty toward her employers on the part of Carlita.
"This is Vice-Principal Holbrook from West Roswell High School. I need to speak to Mr. or Mrs. Evans...concerning their children."
"Are Max and Isabel OK?," Carlita asked. She found it difficult to believe either of the two was ill. She couldn't remember either of them ever being sick.
"I'm sorry but this is a private matter that I can only discuss with the parents. It's a....disciplinary issue."
"Oh, I see...," said Carlita, not quite believing that either child could really be in any serious trouble. Neither child really was very outgoing. In fact, Carlita had often thought it might be better if both of the two could just ease up a little....interact more with other kids. "Well, Mr. Evans is out of touch en route to a court case in Las Cruces. He isn't available. Mrs. Evans is in a meeting of her own right now across town. I'm a little reluctant to disturb her. Can this wait a half-hour?"
"Well...I suppose so...but I'm pretty sure that Mrs. Evans would want her meeting interrupted for this. Could you have her call me...or better yet, just come in to the office at school?"
Carlita took the number and started to call Diane....but then stopped. Diane always liked to have as much information as possible...maybe she could help her. Carlita had three nieces, one nephew, and one younger sister at West Roswell. Perhaps they would know what was going on. She quickly dialed the cell phone number of her niece Angelina.
----------------------------------
The jeep was pulled over to the side of the road and Liz was off in the bushes....puking. Maria shook her head, hoping that if she ever someday became pregnant, it wouldn't be quite that hard on her. Liz looked like she was bringing up yesterday's breakfast. Of course, the shock of seein her name and condition splashed across the water tank couldn't have made it any easier. Even so, the thing that really seemed to be worrying Liz was that now Max knew.
Since Liz seemed to be going to occupy herself for awhile longer Maria grabbed her own cellphone from her purse. It didn't take long to get her mother on the line.
"Mom...it's me. I just wanted you to know that I'm skipping school today with Liz. When we got there someone had painted 'Liz Parker is pregnant' on the water tank, and Liz is really upset. I borrowed a car and I'm taking her up to the ranch...would you call her parents and let them know...and tell them I'll give them a call once we are settled down?"
"My God, honey...why would anyone put up some cruel lie like that?"
"Why anyone would do something that cruel? That I'm not sure about. But it's not a lie...she really is pregnant."
"Goodness...has she told her folks?"
"Yeah...they know."
"But who...when?"
"The when was the night she got drunk. The who...well, that's not my secret to tell, Mom. Right now I just want to get her calmed down...and maybe get some crackers and ginger ale in her once she stops barfing. On top of everything else, she's got morning sickness."
"OK dear. I understand you wanting to be there for your friend. Just keep me informed about what's going on, OK?"
"OK Mom...by the way, you're the best. Talk to you later."
Carlita-Maria LoneEagle had started out life as Carlita-Maria Garcia, and frequently claimed that on her parents side she was related to a third the population of New Mexico. Seven years ago she'd married Robert LoneEagle, who was one-quarter Mescalero Apache on his father's side. She laughed that her in-laws accounted for most of another third of the population of New Mexico. Carlita had worked for the Evans' as their part-time office manager...bookkeeper, and all around handy person for ten years, in large part because the family medical benefits were more comprehensive than her husband got in his much better paying job...working for one of the wildcat oil drill outfits that still existed in eastern New Mexico and northwest Texas. That and the fact that the Evans' were the most family friendly palce Carlita knew.
A lot of small businesses, Carlita-Maria knew, would have gotten upset over the time she'd missed work. She'd had three pregnancies in those seven years, and even though she had more than adequate relatives in the area who were happy to provide childcare, she knew her childbirth and family responsibilities had left the Evans' scrambling for temporary coverage on more than one occasion, and Carlita felt a little sheepish about that...at least until the day that Diane Evans had sat down with her and told Carlita her story...and told her that the Evans' would do anything it took to make sure that Carlita had her own opportunity to have here children and time to bond with them....and a job waiting for her to come back to when she was ready. Carlita had watched Diane take two years off when the couple had adopted their children, and she knew the Evans' meant every word they said. And that was one of the things that had evoked such a fierce loyalty toward her employers on the part of Carlita.
"This is Vice-Principal Holbrook from West Roswell High School. I need to speak to Mr. or Mrs. Evans...concerning their children."
"Are Max and Isabel OK?," Carlita asked. She found it difficult to believe either of the two was ill. She couldn't remember either of them ever being sick.
"I'm sorry but this is a private matter that I can only discuss with the parents. It's a....disciplinary issue."
"Oh, I see...," said Carlita, not quite believing that either child could really be in any serious trouble. Neither child really was very outgoing. In fact, Carlita had often thought it might be better if both of the two could just ease up a little....interact more with other kids. "Well, Mr. Evans is out of touch en route to a court case in Las Cruces. He isn't available. Mrs. Evans is in a meeting of her own right now across town. I'm a little reluctant to disturb her. Can this wait a half-hour?"
"Well...I suppose so...but I'm pretty sure that Mrs. Evans would want her meeting interrupted for this. Could you have her call me...or better yet, just come in to the office at school?"
Carlita took the number and started to call Diane....but then stopped. Diane always liked to have as much information as possible...maybe she could help her. Carlita had three nieces, one nephew, and one younger sister at West Roswell. Perhaps they would know what was going on. She quickly dialed the cell phone number of her niece Angelina.
----------------------------------
The jeep was pulled over to the side of the road and Liz was off in the bushes....puking. Maria shook her head, hoping that if she ever someday became pregnant, it wouldn't be quite that hard on her. Liz looked like she was bringing up yesterday's breakfast. Of course, the shock of seein her name and condition splashed across the water tank couldn't have made it any easier. Even so, the thing that really seemed to be worrying Liz was that now Max knew.
Since Liz seemed to be going to occupy herself for awhile longer Maria grabbed her own cellphone from her purse. It didn't take long to get her mother on the line.
"Mom...it's me. I just wanted you to know that I'm skipping school today with Liz. When we got there someone had painted 'Liz Parker is pregnant' on the water tank, and Liz is really upset. I borrowed a car and I'm taking her up to the ranch...would you call her parents and let them know...and tell them I'll give them a call once we are settled down?"
"My God, honey...why would anyone put up some cruel lie like that?"
"Why anyone would do something that cruel? That I'm not sure about. But it's not a lie...she really is pregnant."
"Goodness...has she told her folks?"
"Yeah...they know."
"But who...when?"
"The when was the night she got drunk. The who...well, that's not my secret to tell, Mom. Right now I just want to get her calmed down...and maybe get some crackers and ginger ale in her once she stops barfing. On top of everything else, she's got morning sickness."
"OK dear. I understand you wanting to be there for your friend. Just keep me informed about what's going on, OK?"
"OK Mom...by the way, you're the best. Talk to you later."
Last edited by greywolf on Mon Nov 08, 2010 11:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Decisions AUwA (Mature) 3/19/2008
The police cruiser pulled in to the driveway toward the back of the Sheriff's office, passing two signs that said 'police vehicles only,' to come to the back door. Deputy Larry Haversham opened the door for Kyle and hauled Max out of the back, bringing them through the door.
"Well, well, well....two new criminals to fingerprint and get mug shots of," said Deputy Barnes.
Kyle shook his head in annoyance. This was part of his dad's 'scare-them-straight' plan. Neither he nor Max had committed felonies and both were juveniles. They really weren't going to be booked like adults would. Robby Barnes would take the pictures, take their prints, then put them straight into the shredder as soon as they were out of sight. This was just harassment to scare them...like getting permission from her parents to hold her in a cell overnight had been harassment for Liz...and normally Kyle wouldn't have thought anything of it, but it had been a real crappy morning and he definitely wasn't in the mood.
"Robby...give it a break. We're juveniles....just notify his parents...I'm sure Dad already knows."
"You got that right," said Jim Valenti with a look of considerable annoyance as he strode into the room. "Process the other suspect...I need to talk to this one. My office, Kyle....now!"
Kyle walked in to his father's office but he didn't plan on being intimidated by his father. Kyle knew he'd made a mistake...and a horrible one, in inviting Liz to that initiation. But taking on Rodehammer....backing up Max Evans when he went after Bubba Brigham....nothing was going to convince Kyle Valenti that THAT had been a mistake. Kyle knew he owed Liz...and that something at that party had hurt her. And if she was indeed pregnant...if someone had taken advantage of her while she was drunk...or forced her...He'd have to somehow find a way to live with the guilt about that. But he had no guilt about pounding Rodehammer and Brigham....even if they had nothing to do with Liz's pregnancy...if she WAS pregnant...they deserved what they got...and worse...just for painting that damn sign...and Jim Valenti WAS NOT going to convinve Kyle of anything else.
"What in hell did you think you were doing? The word I got from the school is that they taunted you, but they got you to throw the first punch. Does that strike you as a responsible thing for the Sheriff's son to do?"
"Those bastards got what they deserved, Dad, and if I had it to do over again I'd do the same damn thing."
"Kyle, we have a legal system to take care of issues like this. It is irresponsible to try to just take the law into your own hands."
"Well I'll guess we'll just have to agree to differ on that, Dad....because I AM responsible...responsible for everything that happened. If Liz really is pregnant...because she got drunk....or raped...at a party that I asked her to...asked her to not for her sake, Dad, ..but for mine...so I'd have someone to get me safely home when I was too drunk to know what I was doing...then it's ME that is responsible."
"Kyle, you couldn't have known..."
"And she did get me home safely, Dad...or at least to the hospital where they could save me. I would have been dead without Liz, and this is the way she gets repaid?"
"Kyle, ...it's an imperfect world..."
"Oh, you got that right, Dad. And part of the imperfection is that assholes like Brigham and Rodehammer get to play cruel games that hurt people like Liz..and Max...a kid who in the seven years I've known him hasn't hurt a soul before today...not ever. A kid so damn shy he couldn't even tell Liz how much he cared about her in all these years. Well let me tell you, Dad, you're right..it is an imperfect world...and part of that imperfection is that those assholes goaded someone like Max so badly that even HE was willing to go after them, and part of that imperfection was that I damn sure wasn't going to let him take them on alone. And you know what, Dad? It's STILL an imperfect world, and whatever YOU do, or the COURT does, or anything else, if those assholes do something like that again, I figure Max and I will just have to pound the crap out of them again.."
Jim Valenti looked at the little boy he had raised...essentially by himself...for the last 16 years. He didn't see his little boy there, however. He saw an angry young man looking back at him and he knew somehow that he too had to make a choice. He'd almost lost Kyle six weeks ago, but somehow he knew...Kyle wasn't going to back down on this. If he treated him like a child, Jim Valenti might damn well lose his son for good this morning.
"Well son, ...I guess sometimes a man's got to do what a man's got to do....neither you nor your partner out there would be human if you weren't ready to fight for the the people you care for. I'm going to have to turn this case over to the New Mexico State Police to sort out....I've obviously got a conflict of interest here...but whatever they decide...whatever the court decides...I'm still your Dad and I'm still on your side. If you need a lawyer, I'll get you one. Maybe one for this Evans kid too if he needs one..."
"A lawyer for Max? No Dad, I'm pretty sure that's not going to be a problem for him....."
It had been a short but productive talk at the offices of Michelle Reynolds, MD.
"Of course I'll see Max, Diane. I think it's very likely you are over-reacting...you never have been able to realize what a great mother you are....trapped in thinking that infertility equals inadequacy. But you can't be too careful with teenagers and if there's any possibility that Max is feeling depressed or suicidal, it needs to be checked out."
"Isabel is almost as bad. She is so standoffish. All of her interaction with other kids is so....superficial. I wish that just ONCE she'd get passionate about something...."
The receptionist chose that moment to buzz the intercom. "Dr. Reynolds...I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's sort of an emergency."
"One of my patients having a problem?"
"No,...it's for Mrs. Evans...a Ms. LoneEagle......I'll transfer it to your telephone."
"Mrs. Evans?" said the voice on the spekerphone.
"Yes, Carlita..." replied Diane.
"Uh....there was a problem at school....with Max and Isabel. It appears that some guys painted the water tower with something about that little Parker girl....the one that Max used to be sweet on....? Well, anyway, Max and Kyle Valenti got in a fight....and now they are both in jail."
"Max got in a fight with Kyle Valenti?" Diane asked. She knew about the party...and the DUI Liz Parker had gotten. Could it be that Max was so angry at the boy that he'd attacked him?
"No...no...Max didn't get in a fight with Valenti...he and Kyle Valenti both got into a fight with two big senior football players who were kicked off the team....they're in the hospital now."
"Max and Kyle are in the hospital? I'll go right there..."
"No, Mrs. Evans....Max and Kyle aren't in the hospital...they're in the jail...but they're both alright...Kyle's father is the Sheriff...and it doesn't sound like those two football players are hurt too bad...they're just getting cleaned up in the Emergency Room. Not like the other one...he's about to go into surgery..."
"The other one...?"
"Yeah, I guess he tried to manhandle Isabel...but Alex stopped him, and then she stopped the other guy from beating up on Alex...that's how he would up in the hospital."
"And once again...who's Alex?"
"Alex Whitman....Isabel's boyfriend."
"Isabel has a boyfriend?"
"Apparently...they're sitting on a bench at the principal's office...she's apparently nuzzled up to his neck..."
"MY Isabel?"
"Yeah...who'd have guessed. When the big guy went to beat up on Alex she kicked him in the b.....uh, she kicked him in the cojones....that's why he's going to surgery and she's sitting in the principal's office...You probably want to pick her up once you get Max out....my niece says Isabel is getting really comfortable cuddled up to her boyfriend."
"Michelle...I think I need to get back to you later...I have to go get my kids.."
"Apparently so," said the psychiatrist...fighting to avoid grinning. She struggled to avoid reminding Diane Evans that she had just been wishing that Isabel would get passionate about something. 'Be careful what you wish for,' she thought.....
"Well, well, well....two new criminals to fingerprint and get mug shots of," said Deputy Barnes.
Kyle shook his head in annoyance. This was part of his dad's 'scare-them-straight' plan. Neither he nor Max had committed felonies and both were juveniles. They really weren't going to be booked like adults would. Robby Barnes would take the pictures, take their prints, then put them straight into the shredder as soon as they were out of sight. This was just harassment to scare them...like getting permission from her parents to hold her in a cell overnight had been harassment for Liz...and normally Kyle wouldn't have thought anything of it, but it had been a real crappy morning and he definitely wasn't in the mood.
"Robby...give it a break. We're juveniles....just notify his parents...I'm sure Dad already knows."
"You got that right," said Jim Valenti with a look of considerable annoyance as he strode into the room. "Process the other suspect...I need to talk to this one. My office, Kyle....now!"
Kyle walked in to his father's office but he didn't plan on being intimidated by his father. Kyle knew he'd made a mistake...and a horrible one, in inviting Liz to that initiation. But taking on Rodehammer....backing up Max Evans when he went after Bubba Brigham....nothing was going to convince Kyle Valenti that THAT had been a mistake. Kyle knew he owed Liz...and that something at that party had hurt her. And if she was indeed pregnant...if someone had taken advantage of her while she was drunk...or forced her...He'd have to somehow find a way to live with the guilt about that. But he had no guilt about pounding Rodehammer and Brigham....even if they had nothing to do with Liz's pregnancy...if she WAS pregnant...they deserved what they got...and worse...just for painting that damn sign...and Jim Valenti WAS NOT going to convinve Kyle of anything else.
"What in hell did you think you were doing? The word I got from the school is that they taunted you, but they got you to throw the first punch. Does that strike you as a responsible thing for the Sheriff's son to do?"
"Those bastards got what they deserved, Dad, and if I had it to do over again I'd do the same damn thing."
"Kyle, we have a legal system to take care of issues like this. It is irresponsible to try to just take the law into your own hands."
"Well I'll guess we'll just have to agree to differ on that, Dad....because I AM responsible...responsible for everything that happened. If Liz really is pregnant...because she got drunk....or raped...at a party that I asked her to...asked her to not for her sake, Dad, ..but for mine...so I'd have someone to get me safely home when I was too drunk to know what I was doing...then it's ME that is responsible."
"Kyle, you couldn't have known..."
"And she did get me home safely, Dad...or at least to the hospital where they could save me. I would have been dead without Liz, and this is the way she gets repaid?"
"Kyle, ...it's an imperfect world..."
"Oh, you got that right, Dad. And part of the imperfection is that assholes like Brigham and Rodehammer get to play cruel games that hurt people like Liz..and Max...a kid who in the seven years I've known him hasn't hurt a soul before today...not ever. A kid so damn shy he couldn't even tell Liz how much he cared about her in all these years. Well let me tell you, Dad, you're right..it is an imperfect world...and part of that imperfection is that those assholes goaded someone like Max so badly that even HE was willing to go after them, and part of that imperfection was that I damn sure wasn't going to let him take them on alone. And you know what, Dad? It's STILL an imperfect world, and whatever YOU do, or the COURT does, or anything else, if those assholes do something like that again, I figure Max and I will just have to pound the crap out of them again.."
Jim Valenti looked at the little boy he had raised...essentially by himself...for the last 16 years. He didn't see his little boy there, however. He saw an angry young man looking back at him and he knew somehow that he too had to make a choice. He'd almost lost Kyle six weeks ago, but somehow he knew...Kyle wasn't going to back down on this. If he treated him like a child, Jim Valenti might damn well lose his son for good this morning.
"Well son, ...I guess sometimes a man's got to do what a man's got to do....neither you nor your partner out there would be human if you weren't ready to fight for the the people you care for. I'm going to have to turn this case over to the New Mexico State Police to sort out....I've obviously got a conflict of interest here...but whatever they decide...whatever the court decides...I'm still your Dad and I'm still on your side. If you need a lawyer, I'll get you one. Maybe one for this Evans kid too if he needs one..."
"A lawyer for Max? No Dad, I'm pretty sure that's not going to be a problem for him....."
It had been a short but productive talk at the offices of Michelle Reynolds, MD.
"Of course I'll see Max, Diane. I think it's very likely you are over-reacting...you never have been able to realize what a great mother you are....trapped in thinking that infertility equals inadequacy. But you can't be too careful with teenagers and if there's any possibility that Max is feeling depressed or suicidal, it needs to be checked out."
"Isabel is almost as bad. She is so standoffish. All of her interaction with other kids is so....superficial. I wish that just ONCE she'd get passionate about something...."
The receptionist chose that moment to buzz the intercom. "Dr. Reynolds...I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's sort of an emergency."
"One of my patients having a problem?"
"No,...it's for Mrs. Evans...a Ms. LoneEagle......I'll transfer it to your telephone."
"Mrs. Evans?" said the voice on the spekerphone.
"Yes, Carlita..." replied Diane.
"Uh....there was a problem at school....with Max and Isabel. It appears that some guys painted the water tower with something about that little Parker girl....the one that Max used to be sweet on....? Well, anyway, Max and Kyle Valenti got in a fight....and now they are both in jail."
"Max got in a fight with Kyle Valenti?" Diane asked. She knew about the party...and the DUI Liz Parker had gotten. Could it be that Max was so angry at the boy that he'd attacked him?
"No...no...Max didn't get in a fight with Valenti...he and Kyle Valenti both got into a fight with two big senior football players who were kicked off the team....they're in the hospital now."
"Max and Kyle are in the hospital? I'll go right there..."
"No, Mrs. Evans....Max and Kyle aren't in the hospital...they're in the jail...but they're both alright...Kyle's father is the Sheriff...and it doesn't sound like those two football players are hurt too bad...they're just getting cleaned up in the Emergency Room. Not like the other one...he's about to go into surgery..."
"The other one...?"
"Yeah, I guess he tried to manhandle Isabel...but Alex stopped him, and then she stopped the other guy from beating up on Alex...that's how he would up in the hospital."
"And once again...who's Alex?"
"Alex Whitman....Isabel's boyfriend."
"Isabel has a boyfriend?"
"Apparently...they're sitting on a bench at the principal's office...she's apparently nuzzled up to his neck..."
"MY Isabel?"
"Yeah...who'd have guessed. When the big guy went to beat up on Alex she kicked him in the b.....uh, she kicked him in the cojones....that's why he's going to surgery and she's sitting in the principal's office...You probably want to pick her up once you get Max out....my niece says Isabel is getting really comfortable cuddled up to her boyfriend."
"Michelle...I think I need to get back to you later...I have to go get my kids.."
"Apparently so," said the psychiatrist...fighting to avoid grinning. She struggled to avoid reminding Diane Evans that she had just been wishing that Isabel would get passionate about something. 'Be careful what you wish for,' she thought.....
Re: Decisions AUwA (Mature) 3/30/2008
A car was approaching from the north as Maria turned the jeep off the main highway onto the long gravel road leading to the old Parker homestead.
Maria was worried about Liz...trying to think of what she could say...what possible things a friend could do to help in a situation this bad. Maria simply didn't have any idea. She could'nt imagine how badly Liz must feel about what had happened to her. And the fact of the matter was that Maria's very thought process was entirely wrong. Liz wasn't really thinking of herself at all...she was thinking of two other people.
'I didn't want Max to know, damn it. It wasn't his fault...it was mine...but he's going to do something stupid...even though I betrayed him. He's going to want to take responsibility...even though NONE of this actually WAS his fault...and I can't let him do that. He has his own future to take care of...I've no right to make him take responsibility for what I did. He made it plain he didn't want to be close...I can't use his baby to pull him to me now.'
Still, the only way to avoid all this....to keep her reputation...keep Max from sacrificing what he REALLY wanted to do with his life for a lifetime attachment to her that he could only resent, would be for her to abort the baby...and Liz couldn't do that. She covered her lower abdomen with her hand...she fancied that she could almost hear the humming of the new life inside her and she promised it, 'It's you and me, baby...I'll take care of you...I promise.'
No, she couldn't abort Max's child...but she couldn't allow Max to ruin his own life by a misplaced sense of responsibility either.
'There must be some way to make this work out...' she told herself. The problem was, she couldn't figure it out. She needed a plan...and she didn't have one.
Back on the road, the approaching car had continued south along the main road...the two occupants not even noticing the jeep...any more than the two girls in the jeep had noticed them. Had they not turned off, however, Maria and Liz might have gotten a better look at the two occupants. One might be described as being a muscular Beavis...and...the other one was like a.... beefy Butthead.
Maria was worried about Liz...trying to think of what she could say...what possible things a friend could do to help in a situation this bad. Maria simply didn't have any idea. She could'nt imagine how badly Liz must feel about what had happened to her. And the fact of the matter was that Maria's very thought process was entirely wrong. Liz wasn't really thinking of herself at all...she was thinking of two other people.
'I didn't want Max to know, damn it. It wasn't his fault...it was mine...but he's going to do something stupid...even though I betrayed him. He's going to want to take responsibility...even though NONE of this actually WAS his fault...and I can't let him do that. He has his own future to take care of...I've no right to make him take responsibility for what I did. He made it plain he didn't want to be close...I can't use his baby to pull him to me now.'
Still, the only way to avoid all this....to keep her reputation...keep Max from sacrificing what he REALLY wanted to do with his life for a lifetime attachment to her that he could only resent, would be for her to abort the baby...and Liz couldn't do that. She covered her lower abdomen with her hand...she fancied that she could almost hear the humming of the new life inside her and she promised it, 'It's you and me, baby...I'll take care of you...I promise.'
No, she couldn't abort Max's child...but she couldn't allow Max to ruin his own life by a misplaced sense of responsibility either.
'There must be some way to make this work out...' she told herself. The problem was, she couldn't figure it out. She needed a plan...and she didn't have one.
Back on the road, the approaching car had continued south along the main road...the two occupants not even noticing the jeep...any more than the two girls in the jeep had noticed them. Had they not turned off, however, Maria and Liz might have gotten a better look at the two occupants. One might be described as being a muscular Beavis...and...the other one was like a.... beefy Butthead.
Last edited by greywolf on Mon Apr 18, 2011 5:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Decisions AUwA (Mature) 4/1/2008
For most of his life Max and Isabel had feared someday being brought in to the Sheriff's office. That had been their personal bogey-man...the first step towards being turned over to government agents for interogation...torture...dissection. The reality turned out to be somewhat less dramatic.
For ten minutes Max sat on the bench, still handcuffed, under the none too watchful eyes of Deputy Robby Barnes...who actually seemed more interested in a maple bar and cup of coffee and some routine paperwork than he was with the teenager. After that, Kyle returned with his father in trail. Max had gone out of his way to never meet Sheriff Valenti, but his look was more of exasperation than of anger as he approached.
"Mr. Evans....," said the Sheriff, "...my son informs me that you are a man of your word. If you promise that you will stay in the building until one of your parents arrives and I can release you in their custody, I'll unlock those cuffs and you and Kyle can just hang out in the break room...and stop cluttering the area that Robby needs for any truly desperate criminals that we do manage to bring in today..."
"Uh...Ok, Sheriff."
Jim Valenti checked both of his front pockets for handcuff keys...then looked at Kyle with mild annoyance as the teenager brought keys from his own pocket to unlock Max's handcuffs. "What? You left them on the kitchen table again...I was going to bring them to you at lunch," said Kyle.
Kyle unlocked Max's cuffs and gave them...and the keys....to his father who rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Both of you stay out of trouble until Max gets a parent here. Then we'll do some paperwork and release you in their custody. Both of you try not to get into any trouble in the meantime. "
Kyle led Max into the break room where a coffee pot that did not appear to have been cleaned in the last several months sat on a hotplate ...it's contents a black oily substance that smelled only vaguely of old coffee...next to what had apparently been two dozen maple bars before the night shift and the morning had devastated them. Kyle snagged one of the three remaining maple bars for each of them and motioned for Max to sit down at the small table. Kyle opened the refrigerator and got out a couple of sodas, stuffing a dollar into an old coffee can that seemed stuffed with bills and coins that sat on a table next to it. Max was surprised by how unthreatening the place of his nightmares was once he actually saw it.
"Max...I'm so sorry. I really screwed up."
"YOU are sorry? What have you got to be sorry about, Kyle?"
"This whole thing...it's all my fault. I'm the one that got Liz into this. I know she was your girl..."
"My girl? Kyle, there's never been anything between Liz and me..."
Kyle looked at Max and just shook his head.
"You are as lousy at pretending as Liz is. For all your smarts, neither one of you can lie worth a damn. The fact that you were ga-ga over Liz and she was ga-ga over you was old news in the seventh grade, Max. If you didn't notice that...or she didn't...it was just because you were so busy mooning over one another that you weren't paying any attention to the fact that the R$EST of us were watching. But anyway..I'm the one that caused this...I'm the one who invited her to that damn initiation..."
"Kyle. You couldn't have known...what would happen."
"No, but I knew that the initiation wasn't going to be any kind of a place she'd want to be and I knew... Hell, Max, it wasn't even a date. Whatever went on between you and Liz back in the Fall...whatever led to her breaking off with you...I knew from the way she acted...from the way she'd try so hard to ignore you when you came to the Crash during the summer... whatever happened, it wasn't like she was over you or that...well...anyone else might have had a chance with her. No, I used Liz...I took her there knowing I would likely get wasted...and that she'd see I got home safe. And that's what happened too...I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her...and she wouldn't be in this fix....and I think she really IS pregnant...if it wasn't for me taking her to that party."
"They might have just been putting up that sign to hurt her...and you," said Max doubtfully. "maybe she's not really pregnant..," he said, and he actually believed it....unfortunately he thought she was something much worse.
"No Max, I've seen the way she's been looking at you since school started...picking a different lab partner. Something happened to her at that party...and because of that...she can't bring herself to face you. But that's why I needed to talk to you Max....don't ...don't be upset with Liz...be upset with me. Beat the shit out of me if you want to...just like you did Bubba...good job on that by the way....but Liz is hurting right now, and I think part of the reason she's hurting is that she's afraid you'll blame her for what happened to her. It wasn't just her Max, several of the girls at that party didn't even know there was alcohol in the punch."
"I don't hold it against her, Kyle. I know Liz didn't do anything wrong. Some monster used her that night and....well...right now, the important thing to do is to help Liz. I'll deal with the monster in good time."
"Max...don't do anything stupid...if we find out who did this...who hurt her...maybe we should do it my Dad's way...let the law handle it..."
"Maybe...," said Max, not wanting to argue with him. Kyle felt badly enough about something that wasn't his fault....'That was YOUR fault,' he reminded himself. Liz couldn't be pregnant because Max wasn't human. Whatever he HAD put in her he had to get out...before it did her harm. That was the priority right now.
"Where is my son and what have you done to him?" asked Diane Evans as she charged in to the Sheriff's office, leading a protesting Deputy Barnes in her wake.
"I'm sorry, Sheriff, She was a little more determined than I thou8ght.."
"That's OK, Robby...you can go back to the desk. I'm sure I'll be safe with...I would assume you are Mrs. Evans?"
"Diane Evans...attorney...and mother...and do I need to get a writ of habeus corpus to see my son or are you going to let him see his lawyer as is his constitutional right under the US constitution, the state constitution of New Mexico, and the New Mexico State Staututes?"
Jim Valenti smiled. This was like watching a she-bear defend her cubs. "Actually, Mrs. Evans... uh ...may I call you Diane? You and I are sort of in the same situation right now. Perhaps we could be on the same side. My son was the other half of the tag team brawl that went on in the high school. Because of that, I've asked the State Police to investigate it since I have an obvious conflict of interest. It would appear that both of our sons were provoked...but that they nonetheless were the first to initiate physical contact in an altercation that occurred at the high school. Right now Max and Kyle are in the break room, having a donut and coffee if their stomachs are up to what Robby considers coffee. Max will be released in your custody as soon as you sign the standard forms....but I was thinking perhaps we could combine our efforts to present the best case we could for the boys. Kyle is somewhat.....well, I'm not sure 'unrepentant' quite does it justice. Wishing he'd been able to trade opponents with Max so they could each have beaten the crap out of both of the guys they fought is more like it...although I have to say...I think I'd have rather taken on either of them than your daughter. She, at least, had the good sense to let the other side make the first physical contact...and I have to admit...twenty years ago I'd probably have agreed with Kyle. But I'm an officer of the law...just as you are an officer of the court. We have to consider the legal system ...rather than true justice."
"Well...my husband is actually the one that does criminal law...I tend to do administrative law...except for my pro bono work at the Justice Center. But It sound like we might be able to help one another at that. What can you tell me about what happened?"
Over the next ten minutes both Max Evans and his mother learned that the Sheriff's office wasn't nearly as intimidating as each had once believed.
For ten minutes Max sat on the bench, still handcuffed, under the none too watchful eyes of Deputy Robby Barnes...who actually seemed more interested in a maple bar and cup of coffee and some routine paperwork than he was with the teenager. After that, Kyle returned with his father in trail. Max had gone out of his way to never meet Sheriff Valenti, but his look was more of exasperation than of anger as he approached.
"Mr. Evans....," said the Sheriff, "...my son informs me that you are a man of your word. If you promise that you will stay in the building until one of your parents arrives and I can release you in their custody, I'll unlock those cuffs and you and Kyle can just hang out in the break room...and stop cluttering the area that Robby needs for any truly desperate criminals that we do manage to bring in today..."
"Uh...Ok, Sheriff."
Jim Valenti checked both of his front pockets for handcuff keys...then looked at Kyle with mild annoyance as the teenager brought keys from his own pocket to unlock Max's handcuffs. "What? You left them on the kitchen table again...I was going to bring them to you at lunch," said Kyle.
Kyle unlocked Max's cuffs and gave them...and the keys....to his father who rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Both of you stay out of trouble until Max gets a parent here. Then we'll do some paperwork and release you in their custody. Both of you try not to get into any trouble in the meantime. "
Kyle led Max into the break room where a coffee pot that did not appear to have been cleaned in the last several months sat on a hotplate ...it's contents a black oily substance that smelled only vaguely of old coffee...next to what had apparently been two dozen maple bars before the night shift and the morning had devastated them. Kyle snagged one of the three remaining maple bars for each of them and motioned for Max to sit down at the small table. Kyle opened the refrigerator and got out a couple of sodas, stuffing a dollar into an old coffee can that seemed stuffed with bills and coins that sat on a table next to it. Max was surprised by how unthreatening the place of his nightmares was once he actually saw it.
"Max...I'm so sorry. I really screwed up."
"YOU are sorry? What have you got to be sorry about, Kyle?"
"This whole thing...it's all my fault. I'm the one that got Liz into this. I know she was your girl..."
"My girl? Kyle, there's never been anything between Liz and me..."
Kyle looked at Max and just shook his head.
"You are as lousy at pretending as Liz is. For all your smarts, neither one of you can lie worth a damn. The fact that you were ga-ga over Liz and she was ga-ga over you was old news in the seventh grade, Max. If you didn't notice that...or she didn't...it was just because you were so busy mooning over one another that you weren't paying any attention to the fact that the R$EST of us were watching. But anyway..I'm the one that caused this...I'm the one who invited her to that damn initiation..."
"Kyle. You couldn't have known...what would happen."
"No, but I knew that the initiation wasn't going to be any kind of a place she'd want to be and I knew... Hell, Max, it wasn't even a date. Whatever went on between you and Liz back in the Fall...whatever led to her breaking off with you...I knew from the way she acted...from the way she'd try so hard to ignore you when you came to the Crash during the summer... whatever happened, it wasn't like she was over you or that...well...anyone else might have had a chance with her. No, I used Liz...I took her there knowing I would likely get wasted...and that she'd see I got home safe. And that's what happened too...I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her...and she wouldn't be in this fix....and I think she really IS pregnant...if it wasn't for me taking her to that party."
"They might have just been putting up that sign to hurt her...and you," said Max doubtfully. "maybe she's not really pregnant..," he said, and he actually believed it....unfortunately he thought she was something much worse.
"No Max, I've seen the way she's been looking at you since school started...picking a different lab partner. Something happened to her at that party...and because of that...she can't bring herself to face you. But that's why I needed to talk to you Max....don't ...don't be upset with Liz...be upset with me. Beat the shit out of me if you want to...just like you did Bubba...good job on that by the way....but Liz is hurting right now, and I think part of the reason she's hurting is that she's afraid you'll blame her for what happened to her. It wasn't just her Max, several of the girls at that party didn't even know there was alcohol in the punch."
"I don't hold it against her, Kyle. I know Liz didn't do anything wrong. Some monster used her that night and....well...right now, the important thing to do is to help Liz. I'll deal with the monster in good time."
"Max...don't do anything stupid...if we find out who did this...who hurt her...maybe we should do it my Dad's way...let the law handle it..."
"Maybe...," said Max, not wanting to argue with him. Kyle felt badly enough about something that wasn't his fault....'That was YOUR fault,' he reminded himself. Liz couldn't be pregnant because Max wasn't human. Whatever he HAD put in her he had to get out...before it did her harm. That was the priority right now.
"Where is my son and what have you done to him?" asked Diane Evans as she charged in to the Sheriff's office, leading a protesting Deputy Barnes in her wake.
"I'm sorry, Sheriff, She was a little more determined than I thou8ght.."
"That's OK, Robby...you can go back to the desk. I'm sure I'll be safe with...I would assume you are Mrs. Evans?"
"Diane Evans...attorney...and mother...and do I need to get a writ of habeus corpus to see my son or are you going to let him see his lawyer as is his constitutional right under the US constitution, the state constitution of New Mexico, and the New Mexico State Staututes?"
Jim Valenti smiled. This was like watching a she-bear defend her cubs. "Actually, Mrs. Evans... uh ...may I call you Diane? You and I are sort of in the same situation right now. Perhaps we could be on the same side. My son was the other half of the tag team brawl that went on in the high school. Because of that, I've asked the State Police to investigate it since I have an obvious conflict of interest. It would appear that both of our sons were provoked...but that they nonetheless were the first to initiate physical contact in an altercation that occurred at the high school. Right now Max and Kyle are in the break room, having a donut and coffee if their stomachs are up to what Robby considers coffee. Max will be released in your custody as soon as you sign the standard forms....but I was thinking perhaps we could combine our efforts to present the best case we could for the boys. Kyle is somewhat.....well, I'm not sure 'unrepentant' quite does it justice. Wishing he'd been able to trade opponents with Max so they could each have beaten the crap out of both of the guys they fought is more like it...although I have to say...I think I'd have rather taken on either of them than your daughter. She, at least, had the good sense to let the other side make the first physical contact...and I have to admit...twenty years ago I'd probably have agreed with Kyle. But I'm an officer of the law...just as you are an officer of the court. We have to consider the legal system ...rather than true justice."
"Well...my husband is actually the one that does criminal law...I tend to do administrative law...except for my pro bono work at the Justice Center. But It sound like we might be able to help one another at that. What can you tell me about what happened?"
Over the next ten minutes both Max Evans and his mother learned that the Sheriff's office wasn't nearly as intimidating as each had once believed.
Last edited by greywolf on Fri Apr 04, 2008 11:48 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Re: Decisions AUwA (Mature) 4/4/2008
She had been sitting on the bench for almost thirty minutes...thirty minutes during which Isabel Evans had been forced to re-evaluate the last eight years.....eight of only ten that she could recall. She was still upset about Liz...the pain she'd seen in the girl's eyes...and the pain the knowledge of what had happened to Liz must be doing to Max right now. But most of all...she was feeling guilt....and worse...guilty pleasure.
It had been a terrible morning but she had weathered it and with it had come an epiphany. Having Alex's shoulder to cry on had made surviving that terrible morning possible.
'I do need him,' she finally admitted to herself, '...just like Max always told me he needed Liz.' The realization had come to Isabel in the first few moments that she sat on the bench...her tears darkening the shoulder of Alex's shirt. She'd fought for the last eight years to keep Max away from Liz...knowing he was miserable, but believing the obsession with Liz could only make him more miserable...but as she'd sat on the bench...as she'd drawn strength and comfort from the mind-glow of Alex's own presence...felt his concern in that aura...his caring...Isabel realized she'd been fundamentally wrong to try to keep her brother away from Liz Parker.
'Max is more honest than you are,' she told herself. 'He knew there was an emptiness within himself...admitted it. You played your Ice Princess role to perfection...not realizing it was a role, until the emptiness was filled.
' She tried to be inconspicuous as she pressed herself closer to Alex...comforting herself by his nearness. Vice-Principal Holbrook had already warned her that she was in enough trouble under the school no-tolerance-for-violence rule and was in imminent danger of being in trouble under the no-untoward-displays-of-affection rule as well, if she kept nuzzling Alex's neck...even though she was mostly just crying on his shoulder.
'How did I ever foul up this badly?' she asked herself. Max was in pain...Liz was in pain...and if something terrible HAD happened to Liz...and from what Isabel had seen of the girl when she'd read that water tank, she had little doubt it had...was it ever possible either Max or Liz could ever find the happiness she'd kept from them?
Sitting next to her.....CLOSELY next to her, Alex Whitman also had some guilt. Somehow...against all odds...the girl of his dreams....someone who he wouldn't have bet even knew his name....somehow she was sitting next to him and he could sense that his presence actually did comfort her. Alex was heartsick about Liz...but somehow...who would have thought that Isabel Evans....the Ice Princess...somehow her being there was supporting him as well. More than that...she had supported Liz. The girl he had always thought of as cold and distant...even as he had lusted after her body...had shown that when the chips were down..she had more empathy and kindness than any of the others that had seen what reading that sign had done to Liz...and was the only one that had instantly done the thing that proved the most helpful. She wasn't an Ice Princess...never had been. Alex had underestimated her character...seeing little but her hot body.
The sign on the door said 'All visitors MUST report to the office,' and that was fine with Diane Evans...because that was just where she intended to go. She had checked Max out of the jail, and taken him directly to Michelle's office for a psych evaluation, and now had only to pick up her wayward daughter who had been in a fight...and apparently put someone in surgery...and get her home, before going back and talking to Michelle...to decide if it was safe to bring Max back home.
It wasn't that Diane thought that Carlita was lying...just that she must have misunderstood. It was difficult enough to believe that little Isabel had actually hospitalized a big football player, ...but for the girl who was actually Miss Insensitivity of West Roswell High to actually loan the Jeep out...well, maybe.....but a boyfriend? It couldn't be. But as she entered the office...it sure seemed like it.
"Isabel?"
"Hi Mom," Isabel said...looking up from the bench. "Sorry about all this...Oh, this is Alex...Alex Whitman. He helped me when a guy grabbed me."
Alex hadn't honestly been sure Isabel KNEW his last name and wouldn't have given long odds on her knowing the first name either. 'Just another time you've underestimated her...thought she was shallower than she really is,' he thought remorsefully.
"Actually, Mrs. Evans, I think it was Isabel that..."
"Izzy," Isabel quickly interrupted.
"Izzy," Alex continued, "...that probably kept me from getting my....kept me from being beat up."
"Oh, I'm sure you'd have held your own, Alex. I just couldn't bear to think of you getting...damaged," Isabel said as she placed her hand gently on his forearm and looked into his eyes with a smile.
Something went through Alex then...a flicker in the back of his mind as he remembered that day in third grade when the teacher had told them they'd be having two new kids in class... His parents had read the story in the newspaper...two kids found abandoned .... naked in the desert...couldn't speak...couldn't even remember where they'd come from. It was no wonder that Max was shy...that Isabel had seemed cold. Maybe if the other kids had reached out to them...like Liz had tried with Max....but they hadn't.... and Alex had been content to ignore Isabel until she had developed boobs in seventh grade...then to lust after her without really respecting her as a human being.
'Who was really the cold one?' he asked himself. Certainly not Isabel...Izzy...who had gone to Liz's aid this morning. No, the cold ones were the rest of them...the ones who had watched Max stay shy and Izzy stay distant, without making any real effort to make them part of the gang.
"I"m sorry, Izzy," Alex said suddenly. "Sorry about all those years that I could have been your friend...but I never really made the effort. I should have treated you more like a human being...less like an Ice Princess."
"Well, I'm not sure I'm really all that great a human being anyway, Alex."
"Well then you'd be wrong, Izzy. You're as human as anyone I know..."
Her eyes looked up at him and they glistened...then she kissed his cheek and followed her mother into the Principal's office. As she followed her mother, Isabel fought to keep the tears from falling.
'If it were only the truth...,' she told herself.
It had been a terrible morning but she had weathered it and with it had come an epiphany. Having Alex's shoulder to cry on had made surviving that terrible morning possible.
'I do need him,' she finally admitted to herself, '...just like Max always told me he needed Liz.' The realization had come to Isabel in the first few moments that she sat on the bench...her tears darkening the shoulder of Alex's shirt. She'd fought for the last eight years to keep Max away from Liz...knowing he was miserable, but believing the obsession with Liz could only make him more miserable...but as she'd sat on the bench...as she'd drawn strength and comfort from the mind-glow of Alex's own presence...felt his concern in that aura...his caring...Isabel realized she'd been fundamentally wrong to try to keep her brother away from Liz Parker.
'Max is more honest than you are,' she told herself. 'He knew there was an emptiness within himself...admitted it. You played your Ice Princess role to perfection...not realizing it was a role, until the emptiness was filled.
' She tried to be inconspicuous as she pressed herself closer to Alex...comforting herself by his nearness. Vice-Principal Holbrook had already warned her that she was in enough trouble under the school no-tolerance-for-violence rule and was in imminent danger of being in trouble under the no-untoward-displays-of-affection rule as well, if she kept nuzzling Alex's neck...even though she was mostly just crying on his shoulder.
'How did I ever foul up this badly?' she asked herself. Max was in pain...Liz was in pain...and if something terrible HAD happened to Liz...and from what Isabel had seen of the girl when she'd read that water tank, she had little doubt it had...was it ever possible either Max or Liz could ever find the happiness she'd kept from them?
Sitting next to her.....CLOSELY next to her, Alex Whitman also had some guilt. Somehow...against all odds...the girl of his dreams....someone who he wouldn't have bet even knew his name....somehow she was sitting next to him and he could sense that his presence actually did comfort her. Alex was heartsick about Liz...but somehow...who would have thought that Isabel Evans....the Ice Princess...somehow her being there was supporting him as well. More than that...she had supported Liz. The girl he had always thought of as cold and distant...even as he had lusted after her body...had shown that when the chips were down..she had more empathy and kindness than any of the others that had seen what reading that sign had done to Liz...and was the only one that had instantly done the thing that proved the most helpful. She wasn't an Ice Princess...never had been. Alex had underestimated her character...seeing little but her hot body.
The sign on the door said 'All visitors MUST report to the office,' and that was fine with Diane Evans...because that was just where she intended to go. She had checked Max out of the jail, and taken him directly to Michelle's office for a psych evaluation, and now had only to pick up her wayward daughter who had been in a fight...and apparently put someone in surgery...and get her home, before going back and talking to Michelle...to decide if it was safe to bring Max back home.
It wasn't that Diane thought that Carlita was lying...just that she must have misunderstood. It was difficult enough to believe that little Isabel had actually hospitalized a big football player, ...but for the girl who was actually Miss Insensitivity of West Roswell High to actually loan the Jeep out...well, maybe.....but a boyfriend? It couldn't be. But as she entered the office...it sure seemed like it.
"Isabel?"
"Hi Mom," Isabel said...looking up from the bench. "Sorry about all this...Oh, this is Alex...Alex Whitman. He helped me when a guy grabbed me."
Alex hadn't honestly been sure Isabel KNEW his last name and wouldn't have given long odds on her knowing the first name either. 'Just another time you've underestimated her...thought she was shallower than she really is,' he thought remorsefully.
"Actually, Mrs. Evans, I think it was Isabel that..."
"Izzy," Isabel quickly interrupted.
"Izzy," Alex continued, "...that probably kept me from getting my....kept me from being beat up."
"Oh, I'm sure you'd have held your own, Alex. I just couldn't bear to think of you getting...damaged," Isabel said as she placed her hand gently on his forearm and looked into his eyes with a smile.
Something went through Alex then...a flicker in the back of his mind as he remembered that day in third grade when the teacher had told them they'd be having two new kids in class... His parents had read the story in the newspaper...two kids found abandoned .... naked in the desert...couldn't speak...couldn't even remember where they'd come from. It was no wonder that Max was shy...that Isabel had seemed cold. Maybe if the other kids had reached out to them...like Liz had tried with Max....but they hadn't.... and Alex had been content to ignore Isabel until she had developed boobs in seventh grade...then to lust after her without really respecting her as a human being.
'Who was really the cold one?' he asked himself. Certainly not Isabel...Izzy...who had gone to Liz's aid this morning. No, the cold ones were the rest of them...the ones who had watched Max stay shy and Izzy stay distant, without making any real effort to make them part of the gang.
"I"m sorry, Izzy," Alex said suddenly. "Sorry about all those years that I could have been your friend...but I never really made the effort. I should have treated you more like a human being...less like an Ice Princess."
"Well, I'm not sure I'm really all that great a human being anyway, Alex."
"Well then you'd be wrong, Izzy. You're as human as anyone I know..."
Her eyes looked up at him and they glistened...then she kissed his cheek and followed her mother into the Principal's office. As she followed her mother, Isabel fought to keep the tears from falling.
'If it were only the truth...,' she told herself.
Last edited by greywolf on Tue Apr 08, 2008 3:48 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Re: Decisions AUwA (Mature) 4/8/2008
"Isabel is...WHAT?"
"I said she is suspended from school for the next three days, Mrs. Evans," replied the Vice-Principal.
"And the justification for that is....?"
"She was in violation of section three, paragraph 'b' of the West Roswell High disciplinary code, by being involved in an altercation involving physical violence."
"My daughter was slapped by another girl and defended herself....then she was attacked and pawed by some big football palyer...and defended herself. She has a right to do that under New Mexico state law, Mr. Holbrook...it's called self defense."
"Well...the administration of West Roswell High informed all parents that we were instituting this no-tolerance policy in the school handout you were encouraged to pick up at the school open house...it is hardly our fault if you didn't read it."
"Perhaps no one read it because no one would have believed that you would be arrogant enough to assume you could overturn state law by writing some stupid handout...," replied Diane Evans. In her volunteer work at the legal center she often saw bureaucratic arrogance like this...it was just that it had never before involved either of her kids. "Look, I understand there are issues about what Max did...he apparently believed he was provoked, but my son may have actually thrown the first punch. But no such issues exist here. Isabel was attacked and that other boy...that Alex...clearly did nothing but attempt to defend my daughter."
Over the next fifteen minutes Diane Evans talked to the Vice-Principal, the Principal, and both Sophomore Class counselors. It quickly became apparent that none had anything but circular arguments...none wanted either the moral or legal responsibility of actually determining right from wrong in student disputes, and nothing was going to be accomplished this morning. Eventually she decided her best course of action was to get Isabel home and see what Michelle had found out in her assessment of Max.
As they left the office a tall lanky man and his medium height wife were standing next to Alex Whitman.
"Uh---oh Mom and Dad, this is Isabel Evans and her mother. She's a classmate of mine."
Diane watched her daughter give the couple her most engaging smile. "What Alex isn't telling you is that I'm the reason he's in trouble. A male student assaulted me and Alex came to my rescue...none of this is his fault, he was just helping me. I'm sorry he had to be involved in this."
"Well...uh...we tried to raise him to act like a gentlemen," his mother started to say.
"And a fine one he is too," Isabel said....kissing him softly on the cheek. "It sounds like we won't be in school for three days, Alex. If you get bored you might...give me a call maybe?"
"I'd like that, Isa....Izzy."
Three parents looked at each other with uncertainty. Exactly how a school suspension was starting to become the jump off point for what appeared to be a budding friendship...by two individuals who had apparently never previously been that close, they couldn't tell. But as they left the parking lot, Diane noticed that Isabel's face retained a gentle smile.
Back at the Parker homestead, Nancy Parker had arrived to comfort her daughter. After several minutes of hugging, the discussions had started.
"Mom...I don't want to go back home for awhile...I need time to deal with this. I'd just like to stay here with Maria for a few days...that's all."
Nancy looked at Maria who nodded her head, and telted her neck to indicate she'd talk to Nancy outside. In a few moments they were alone.
"Look Mrs. P....I'll be right here with her...I've got my cell phone...I think she just needs a little time. Liz isn't going to do anything stupid...I'm sure."
"Well...I'll be back with some food for you. I'm sure Jeff is going to want to come talk to her too...let her know we both care...after he's finished talking to that clinic about patient privacy and confidentiality."
Maria nodded her head. She would have liked to have been there to have given them a piece of her mind as well. Nancy went inside and tried to comfort and reassure Liz, and in another ten minutes Nancy was on her way down the long driveway.
As Maria turned back toward the house she heard the Braaaaak....Braaak of a dirtbike coming across the open desert and saw the single rider coming from the direction of town.
The dirtbike was an ancient 175cc Suzuki... out of production for over twenty years. It had been in miserable shpe even before it's last owner had brought the engine case down on top of a rock while trying to navigate some rough terrain. The broken crankcase was an aluminum alloy that couldn't be welded easily and there were no parts available. Michael had bought it for $25. It had taken him about four hours of molecular manipulation to patch the crack in the crankcase and do the other work that got the machine workable...although still unlicensed. If he ever admitted he owned it, old Hank Guerin would probably sell it for enough to buy a half gallon of cheap booze.
Michael had overslept and missed the morning festivities...been tardy for his third time this year, which had earned him a one day suspension. He still didn't understand the school policy of rewarding you with being late three times with a day off altogether...but he was willing to live with it. He'd seen the black jeep with Liz aboard driven by Maria heading for the desert as he'd come to school...he sort of guessed where they were going. There had been a sixth grade party there once when everyone had 'graduated' from elementary school and Michael had gotten to go...he'd forged Hank Guerin's name on the permission slip.
When he saw the Jeep ...and Maria...in the driveway, he knew he'd guessed correctly. Michael knew that Max would be worried...it was obvious that this had hit him pretty hard...although Izzy had told him that his mom had bailed him out of jail. Mostly Michael just wanted to be able to reassure Max that Liz was OK...or that's what he told himself. But the fact of the matter was, he always enjoyed talking to Maria...even if they mostly argued. Michael gunned his dirtbike across the open desert and stopped ten feet away from Maria, taking his helmet off...
"I said she is suspended from school for the next three days, Mrs. Evans," replied the Vice-Principal.
"And the justification for that is....?"
"She was in violation of section three, paragraph 'b' of the West Roswell High disciplinary code, by being involved in an altercation involving physical violence."
"My daughter was slapped by another girl and defended herself....then she was attacked and pawed by some big football palyer...and defended herself. She has a right to do that under New Mexico state law, Mr. Holbrook...it's called self defense."
"Well...the administration of West Roswell High informed all parents that we were instituting this no-tolerance policy in the school handout you were encouraged to pick up at the school open house...it is hardly our fault if you didn't read it."
"Perhaps no one read it because no one would have believed that you would be arrogant enough to assume you could overturn state law by writing some stupid handout...," replied Diane Evans. In her volunteer work at the legal center she often saw bureaucratic arrogance like this...it was just that it had never before involved either of her kids. "Look, I understand there are issues about what Max did...he apparently believed he was provoked, but my son may have actually thrown the first punch. But no such issues exist here. Isabel was attacked and that other boy...that Alex...clearly did nothing but attempt to defend my daughter."
Over the next fifteen minutes Diane Evans talked to the Vice-Principal, the Principal, and both Sophomore Class counselors. It quickly became apparent that none had anything but circular arguments...none wanted either the moral or legal responsibility of actually determining right from wrong in student disputes, and nothing was going to be accomplished this morning. Eventually she decided her best course of action was to get Isabel home and see what Michelle had found out in her assessment of Max.
As they left the office a tall lanky man and his medium height wife were standing next to Alex Whitman.
"Uh---oh Mom and Dad, this is Isabel Evans and her mother. She's a classmate of mine."
Diane watched her daughter give the couple her most engaging smile. "What Alex isn't telling you is that I'm the reason he's in trouble. A male student assaulted me and Alex came to my rescue...none of this is his fault, he was just helping me. I'm sorry he had to be involved in this."
"Well...uh...we tried to raise him to act like a gentlemen," his mother started to say.
"And a fine one he is too," Isabel said....kissing him softly on the cheek. "It sounds like we won't be in school for three days, Alex. If you get bored you might...give me a call maybe?"
"I'd like that, Isa....Izzy."
Three parents looked at each other with uncertainty. Exactly how a school suspension was starting to become the jump off point for what appeared to be a budding friendship...by two individuals who had apparently never previously been that close, they couldn't tell. But as they left the parking lot, Diane noticed that Isabel's face retained a gentle smile.
Back at the Parker homestead, Nancy Parker had arrived to comfort her daughter. After several minutes of hugging, the discussions had started.
"Mom...I don't want to go back home for awhile...I need time to deal with this. I'd just like to stay here with Maria for a few days...that's all."
Nancy looked at Maria who nodded her head, and telted her neck to indicate she'd talk to Nancy outside. In a few moments they were alone.
"Look Mrs. P....I'll be right here with her...I've got my cell phone...I think she just needs a little time. Liz isn't going to do anything stupid...I'm sure."
"Well...I'll be back with some food for you. I'm sure Jeff is going to want to come talk to her too...let her know we both care...after he's finished talking to that clinic about patient privacy and confidentiality."
Maria nodded her head. She would have liked to have been there to have given them a piece of her mind as well. Nancy went inside and tried to comfort and reassure Liz, and in another ten minutes Nancy was on her way down the long driveway.
As Maria turned back toward the house she heard the Braaaaak....Braaak of a dirtbike coming across the open desert and saw the single rider coming from the direction of town.
The dirtbike was an ancient 175cc Suzuki... out of production for over twenty years. It had been in miserable shpe even before it's last owner had brought the engine case down on top of a rock while trying to navigate some rough terrain. The broken crankcase was an aluminum alloy that couldn't be welded easily and there were no parts available. Michael had bought it for $25. It had taken him about four hours of molecular manipulation to patch the crack in the crankcase and do the other work that got the machine workable...although still unlicensed. If he ever admitted he owned it, old Hank Guerin would probably sell it for enough to buy a half gallon of cheap booze.
Michael had overslept and missed the morning festivities...been tardy for his third time this year, which had earned him a one day suspension. He still didn't understand the school policy of rewarding you with being late three times with a day off altogether...but he was willing to live with it. He'd seen the black jeep with Liz aboard driven by Maria heading for the desert as he'd come to school...he sort of guessed where they were going. There had been a sixth grade party there once when everyone had 'graduated' from elementary school and Michael had gotten to go...he'd forged Hank Guerin's name on the permission slip.
When he saw the Jeep ...and Maria...in the driveway, he knew he'd guessed correctly. Michael knew that Max would be worried...it was obvious that this had hit him pretty hard...although Izzy had told him that his mom had bailed him out of jail. Mostly Michael just wanted to be able to reassure Max that Liz was OK...or that's what he told himself. But the fact of the matter was, he always enjoyed talking to Maria...even if they mostly argued. Michael gunned his dirtbike across the open desert and stopped ten feet away from Maria, taking his helmet off...
Re: Decisions AUwA (Mature) 4/14/2008
"I assure you Mr. Parker," said Linda Huntington, "..that we are very careful with our records...that there was no way that they could have gotten that they could have gotten that information from us." But even as she said it she knew it wasn't true. The lab had always been a weak spot in their patient confidentiality, and the lab had logged in a specimen from the girl involved in the altercation at school....Pamela Troy...only minutes after Liz Parker had been there. Pamela was a regular in their STD clinic....and a known snoop and gossip. Whether or not the Parker's could PROVE the clinic's poor procedures had led to the breach of security was another thing, but the clinic sure didn't want to have to defend this in court.
"You know, Mr. Parker, the easiest thing to do would be if Liz just came in here and....well, we could make this all go away in a few hours. Considering the circumstances, we wouldn't even charge her for the procedure. She could be back in school on Wednesday...honestly denying she was pregnant. This wouldn't have to destroy her life like this...?"
Jeff Parker bit back his anger at what he rightfully assumed was the clinic trying to cover its own ass...since he'd had more than a few thoughts along the same line. "That would have to be my daughter's decision, Ms. Huntington....not yours, not mine...but she shouldn't be compelled to make it because your personnel were lax with my daughter's privacy."
Linda Huntingtom winced in acknowledgement, but continued. "Mr. Parker, that's a decision she will have to make eventually in any event. It isn't like time isn't passing and after twelve weeks, things only get harder if she does decide to abort the fetus."
'The fetus,' thought Jeff Parker. 'It makes it so much easier when you think about it as 'the fetus' instead of your grandchild....' It would be easier for Liz too, no doubt, if she thought that way.....only she didn't.
"As I said, Ms. Huntington, that will be my duaghter's decision and whatever she chooses her mother and I will support her in that choice. But that does NOT excuse your organization from its responsibilities..."
Across town, another medical professional was hard at work. The boy had obviously been disturbed when his mother had brought him in, but as Michelle read the results of the psychometric testing she could only shake her head in wonder.
Zung Self-Rating Depression Scale: dead center normal
Beck Depression Inventory (BDI): dead center normal
Criteria for Epidemiologic Studies-Depression (CES-D) scale
Studies - Depression scale: dead center normal
Children's Depression Inventory (CDI): dead center normal.
She'd have to talk to Diane about this....that result was impossible. There was always some variation in testing. For Max to have absolutely normal findings on all of these tests was kind of like flipping a coin ten thousand times and getting precisely 5000 heads and 5000 tails. Could it happen? Sure. But what was the probability of that actually happening...almost trivial...less than 1%. On the other hand...on his Wexler Intelligence test, he'd scored off scale high.
She'd interviewed Max and he pretty much denied and minimized any problems...and did so fairly convincingly. If Michelle hadn't known about Diane's own problems with depression...and if Max hadn't made the mistake of giving answers that were too normal, Michelle would have been tempted to believe that Diane had just been imagining Max's problems. But she seriously doubted Diane would have failed to recognize the very symptoms that had once almost cost her her life.
"Diane, I agree with you that Max has a problem and I think it might be good if he started seeing me...I'm just really not altogether sure what is going on. Max is a very interesting young man. Intellectually, your son is brilliant...off scale brilliant, but emotionally....well, it''s still sort of like the first six years of his life just never happened. It's not just that he has no memory of those years...before you adopted him...but emotionally they never happened. For all his intelligence he handles social problems with the skill of a fourth greader would, rather than a high school sophomore, while having to put up with all the difficulties of being a teenager. It can't be that easy. Tell me...have you ever felt that Max was concealing something from you?"
Diane nodded her head. "There has always been something that seems like that...even Isabel, and she's much more open with her affection to her father and me than Max...it's like they have this secret between them they don't want us to know...,"
"I think when I worked for social services they always thought that Max and Isabel's inability to communicate when they were found and subsequent lack of memory of where they came from was simple neglect, but perhaps it was more than that. They were both about six years old....most of us can remember first grade reasonably well...the fact that they can't may mean it was more than just neglect. They may have repressed memories of that time from physical or possibly even sexual abuse. Now that they are in high school...having to take part in social interactions no matter if they want to or not...their normal interactions may be breaking down that isolation. That might be a good thing....like what you tell me about Ice Princess Isabel actually seeming to care for that boy...or it may be a bad thing if they don't deal with their secret constructively. The thing we have to realize is that while Isabel and Max appear bright for their age, socially they are delayed. It's going to take them time...and maybe some help...to cope constructively with being teenagers....even moreso than most."
"But they both seem so....intelligent."
"There's a difference between intelligence and socialization. Tell me, did you ever suggest to Max that it might be advisable to have him evaluated for depression?"
"Well, yes...several weeks ago..."
"Well what I think he did was go to the library and look up everything he could find about how we test for depression. He looked up the tests, found the answers he thought would keep him out of trouble, and has been reciting those back to us. He is academically brilliant, but lacks the insight to realize that from time to time everyone is a little depressed...it's only human nature. But instead of answering honestly, he parrots back the book answer...which pretty much reveals that all we really know is that he is telling us what we want to hear. That's where the naivete' comes in."
"Well, what can we do?"
"I'd like to continue to see him...probably twice a week...see if I can get him to open up to me a little more. He insists that he is not suicidal and....at least for right now...I think I believe him. Frankly, I'm not to sure he WASN'T contemplating suicide before today, but the trouble this young girl is in seems to have somehow caused him to decide to engage in the world...to do what he can to try to help her, rather than concentrating on his own problems. The fact that he's functioning socially at the ten year old, rather than the tenth grade level, probably accounts for the fact that he resorted directly to violence, rather than trying lesser methods to deal with his anger...."
"Well, I'm not too sure about that. I talked to Kyle Valenti...the Sheriff's son, and it appears that Max beat Kyle to the punch on assaulting that guy only because he was closer. My husband will be defending both boys in court and while I realize that incitement to riot doesn't really excuse someone who riots, ...well, what those three wrote about that young girl on the water tank was reprehensible...no matter if it was true or not."
"In any event, I think it would be well for me to continue to see Max for awhile....besides, I may be able to explain to the judge about Max's social immaturity....it might help in his defense."
"That might be helpful at that. The Sheriff has turned this over to the state because of conflict of interest, but the conflict is almost as bad with the judge as well, between the Sheriff working with the judges continuously and Philip knowing all the local judges. They haven't quite straightened that out yet."
"Are you worried about Isabel? I understand she was involved in an altercation as well?"
"Actually, I'm sort of heartened by what Isabel did....not the physical part, although she acted in self defense initially, but that she actually went to the aid of the young man that went to her aid and ....against all odds...I think she actually cares for the boy. At least she cared enough to hospitalize her own assailant when he turned on this young man...but more than that....more than just compassion that she really hasn't shown before, she appears to have a genuine affection for the boy...and it wasn't two hours ago that I was wishing for...."
"Yeah, well be careful what you wish for, as they say, you just might get it...."
"You know, Mr. Parker, the easiest thing to do would be if Liz just came in here and....well, we could make this all go away in a few hours. Considering the circumstances, we wouldn't even charge her for the procedure. She could be back in school on Wednesday...honestly denying she was pregnant. This wouldn't have to destroy her life like this...?"
Jeff Parker bit back his anger at what he rightfully assumed was the clinic trying to cover its own ass...since he'd had more than a few thoughts along the same line. "That would have to be my daughter's decision, Ms. Huntington....not yours, not mine...but she shouldn't be compelled to make it because your personnel were lax with my daughter's privacy."
Linda Huntingtom winced in acknowledgement, but continued. "Mr. Parker, that's a decision she will have to make eventually in any event. It isn't like time isn't passing and after twelve weeks, things only get harder if she does decide to abort the fetus."
'The fetus,' thought Jeff Parker. 'It makes it so much easier when you think about it as 'the fetus' instead of your grandchild....' It would be easier for Liz too, no doubt, if she thought that way.....only she didn't.
"As I said, Ms. Huntington, that will be my duaghter's decision and whatever she chooses her mother and I will support her in that choice. But that does NOT excuse your organization from its responsibilities..."
Across town, another medical professional was hard at work. The boy had obviously been disturbed when his mother had brought him in, but as Michelle read the results of the psychometric testing she could only shake her head in wonder.
Zung Self-Rating Depression Scale: dead center normal
Beck Depression Inventory (BDI): dead center normal
Criteria for Epidemiologic Studies-Depression (CES-D) scale
Studies - Depression scale: dead center normal
Children's Depression Inventory (CDI): dead center normal.
She'd have to talk to Diane about this....that result was impossible. There was always some variation in testing. For Max to have absolutely normal findings on all of these tests was kind of like flipping a coin ten thousand times and getting precisely 5000 heads and 5000 tails. Could it happen? Sure. But what was the probability of that actually happening...almost trivial...less than 1%. On the other hand...on his Wexler Intelligence test, he'd scored off scale high.
She'd interviewed Max and he pretty much denied and minimized any problems...and did so fairly convincingly. If Michelle hadn't known about Diane's own problems with depression...and if Max hadn't made the mistake of giving answers that were too normal, Michelle would have been tempted to believe that Diane had just been imagining Max's problems. But she seriously doubted Diane would have failed to recognize the very symptoms that had once almost cost her her life.
"Diane, I agree with you that Max has a problem and I think it might be good if he started seeing me...I'm just really not altogether sure what is going on. Max is a very interesting young man. Intellectually, your son is brilliant...off scale brilliant, but emotionally....well, it''s still sort of like the first six years of his life just never happened. It's not just that he has no memory of those years...before you adopted him...but emotionally they never happened. For all his intelligence he handles social problems with the skill of a fourth greader would, rather than a high school sophomore, while having to put up with all the difficulties of being a teenager. It can't be that easy. Tell me...have you ever felt that Max was concealing something from you?"
Diane nodded her head. "There has always been something that seems like that...even Isabel, and she's much more open with her affection to her father and me than Max...it's like they have this secret between them they don't want us to know...,"
"I think when I worked for social services they always thought that Max and Isabel's inability to communicate when they were found and subsequent lack of memory of where they came from was simple neglect, but perhaps it was more than that. They were both about six years old....most of us can remember first grade reasonably well...the fact that they can't may mean it was more than just neglect. They may have repressed memories of that time from physical or possibly even sexual abuse. Now that they are in high school...having to take part in social interactions no matter if they want to or not...their normal interactions may be breaking down that isolation. That might be a good thing....like what you tell me about Ice Princess Isabel actually seeming to care for that boy...or it may be a bad thing if they don't deal with their secret constructively. The thing we have to realize is that while Isabel and Max appear bright for their age, socially they are delayed. It's going to take them time...and maybe some help...to cope constructively with being teenagers....even moreso than most."
"But they both seem so....intelligent."
"There's a difference between intelligence and socialization. Tell me, did you ever suggest to Max that it might be advisable to have him evaluated for depression?"
"Well, yes...several weeks ago..."
"Well what I think he did was go to the library and look up everything he could find about how we test for depression. He looked up the tests, found the answers he thought would keep him out of trouble, and has been reciting those back to us. He is academically brilliant, but lacks the insight to realize that from time to time everyone is a little depressed...it's only human nature. But instead of answering honestly, he parrots back the book answer...which pretty much reveals that all we really know is that he is telling us what we want to hear. That's where the naivete' comes in."
"Well, what can we do?"
"I'd like to continue to see him...probably twice a week...see if I can get him to open up to me a little more. He insists that he is not suicidal and....at least for right now...I think I believe him. Frankly, I'm not to sure he WASN'T contemplating suicide before today, but the trouble this young girl is in seems to have somehow caused him to decide to engage in the world...to do what he can to try to help her, rather than concentrating on his own problems. The fact that he's functioning socially at the ten year old, rather than the tenth grade level, probably accounts for the fact that he resorted directly to violence, rather than trying lesser methods to deal with his anger...."
"Well, I'm not too sure about that. I talked to Kyle Valenti...the Sheriff's son, and it appears that Max beat Kyle to the punch on assaulting that guy only because he was closer. My husband will be defending both boys in court and while I realize that incitement to riot doesn't really excuse someone who riots, ...well, what those three wrote about that young girl on the water tank was reprehensible...no matter if it was true or not."
"In any event, I think it would be well for me to continue to see Max for awhile....besides, I may be able to explain to the judge about Max's social immaturity....it might help in his defense."
"That might be helpful at that. The Sheriff has turned this over to the state because of conflict of interest, but the conflict is almost as bad with the judge as well, between the Sheriff working with the judges continuously and Philip knowing all the local judges. They haven't quite straightened that out yet."
"Are you worried about Isabel? I understand she was involved in an altercation as well?"
"Actually, I'm sort of heartened by what Isabel did....not the physical part, although she acted in self defense initially, but that she actually went to the aid of the young man that went to her aid and ....against all odds...I think she actually cares for the boy. At least she cared enough to hospitalize her own assailant when he turned on this young man...but more than that....more than just compassion that she really hasn't shown before, she appears to have a genuine affection for the boy...and it wasn't two hours ago that I was wishing for...."
"Yeah, well be careful what you wish for, as they say, you just might get it...."
Re: Decisions AUwA (Mature) 4/25/2008
He took off the helmet and looked at Maria standing there in the bright New Mexico morning sun and said, "Hey...."
"Hey, yourself," she replied.... and already the argument seemed to be starting. That's the way it had always been with them...way back to the fifth grade. It would start as a discussion...then a misunderstanding...then an argument. It always worked that way....
The fact of the matter was that when Maria and Michael had met in the fifth grade, the same sort of bond had formed between them that had formed between Max when he got off the bus in second grade and saw Liz, and Isabel when she'd first dreamwalked Alex in the seventh grade. There was a real attraction between them constantly, and they handled it even more poorly than the other two couples handled theirs...not without good reason.
None of the pod children had experienced anything like a normal childhood, so their ability to socialize normally was certainly compromised. Essentially pushed out of the pod at a physical age of six, with no socialization at all, they still hadn't caught up to normal. But at least Max and Isabel had experienced a childhood during which they had witnessed the loving interaction between Philip and Diane Evans. Not so, Michael Guerin.
Michael was the most xenophobic of the three...the one who hid in the rocks and watched as the Evanses gathered Max and Isabel in their car, covered them with warm blankets, and drove off...to fight like crazy with the department of social services to be able to first foster...and later adopt them.
It had taken another week of roaming the desert...cold at night...little food other than what he could scavenge...drinking what water he could find from brackish desert springs...before Michael had gotten so weak that he had no choice but to wait by a road until he was seen by the New Mexico State Patrol Trooper. It wasn't that the trooper wasn't a nice guy, it's just that he had just started his shift and he had responsibilities. He had dumped Michael in the hands of the department of social services almost immediately and he became just another lost soul in a big bureaucratic system.
A social worker...likely with the best of intentions, decided that Michael was 'developmentally disabled' since he was six years old and had yet to learn how to speak. He was institutionalized for almost two years in the Center for Developmental Disability in Gallup New Mexico before it was even determined that he was educable...and then only because one of the staff members noticed that his newspaper continually disappeared if he left it unattended. After that he received intensive language training however even that was less effective than it might have been since, to avoid any semblance of 'cultural imperialism, it was divided almost evenly between Spanish. English, Zuni, Navajo, and Mescalero. Worse yet, it was 'value-neutral' specifically designed not to bias him either toward or away from any culture, and therefore giving him the social tools to be successful in none of them.
Eventually he got spit out into the foster care system, coming to live with Hank and Elly Guerin three weeks before Elly decided she'd had enough of the old drunk, and drove off, fortunately signing Michael up for Fifth grade at Roswell Elementary before she did so, because Hank probably wouldn't have sobered up long enough to do it. In fact, most of the ability to get by in human culture that Michael had was what he'd picked up second hand from shy Max and stand-offish Isabel, neither exactly paragons of socialization themselves, and third hand from Philip and Diane Evans.
So really...it should have come as a great surprise to no one that Michael's social skills were ...embryonic...and that he'd have trouble going anywhere with his attraction towards Maria DeLuca.
Maria actually had some pretty severe problems with socialization of her own. There is an old aphorism in the Woman's Lib movement that 'A woman needs a man, like a fish needs a bicycle.' Perhaps that was even arguably correct in many cases. Unfortunately, the need of a little girl for a father...a male who can instil her with a sense of importance devoid of any sexual attraction and a role model for how males should appropriately treat females...is not quite as dispensable.
It would be wrong to say that Maria had never had a father...at least not in the biological sense like Michael, who had never had parents at all. But in the social sense, Maria's paternity had been every bit as empty as Michaels, and both the manner of her father's departure and Amy's struggles to keep both of them fed, clothed, and housed, had put a real crimp in her ability to find a substitute for Maria's missing father...someone who might provide an appropriate role model for the girl.
Amy Sullivan had been an eighteen year old freshman majoring in sociology at the University of California when she'd met Romie DeLuca. Amy was the daughter of a couple from Marin County who had come of age in the 1960s as Berkeley students. They eventually settled down to an upper middle class lifestyle in the north bay. Romie DeLuca was the son of a Napa valley couple who had some prize vineyards and had sent their son off to school to be the first in the family to get a college degree.
Romie DeLuca had embraced 'the revolution' with...well...revolutionary fervor. Maria had only seen about six pictures of her father...he always looked the same. Long hair, short beard, a 'Viva Che Guevara' t-shirt, green military fatigue pants, and either army boots or sandals depending on his mood.
The 23 year-old teaching assistant had convinced the 18 year old freshman that he was the most socially aware person in the universe...he frequently did that with female students...in an ultimately successful effort to get into the young lady's pants. Maria was the result. The young man had been rather upset that the young Amy had not used protection...although in fairness he had plied her with copious amounts of alcohol and hashish and had used no protection himself...but he'd been positively enraged that she'd refused to abort the child. His parents had insisted that he marry Amy...they were rather traditional Italians...and he'd done so reluctantly...under the threat of being disinherited if he did not...and then only after the contractions were coming at five minute intervals.
It would be fair to say that marriage had not exactly agreed with young Romie DeLuca. Maria had been less than six months old when her father completed his Master's degree and decided to go join the Sandanistas in Nicaragua in a spirit of revolutionary fervor. He loaded Amy and Maria in the rusty old VW microbus held together mainly by 'Save the Whale' and old 'George McGovern for President' stickers, and headed south. The microbus broke down in El Paso Texas and Romie went on south alone...promising he'd be back. In fact he did make it to Nicaragua and briefly did make common cause with the Sandinistas before becoming dispirited with revolutionary socialism. The next Fall he was in Harvard....he mailed the divorce papers to Roswell New Mexico where Amy was trying her best to make a life for herself and for little Maria.
Maria had lost track of her father after she got her birthday card from him fo turning two...she was almost three at the time, but it was probably just as well...he was busy in Business School in Boston, and didn't have time for her anyway. And now at sixteen it would have been too late to have much of a meaningful relationship with him...even if he wasn't busy running a hedge fund and flying with his second trophy wife off to their beach house in the Bahamas.
Amy had been too busy providing them with the basics to have much of a romantic life of her own in the early years. Two years ago, when Maria had turned fourteen, Amy thought she had finally found time for romance and the right guy to share her life with, but sadly it wasn't to be. After the first pass her would-be boyfriend had made AT MARIA, she'd quickly cut that relationship off. So for the immediate future, there wasn't going to be a man in Amy's life...or a father in Maria's either.
Maria's whole background had left her not very trusting of men in general. Michael was a little less socially graceful than most. It was little wonder they often fought. Had they both not actually been in love, it would have no doubt been far worse. So with both of them having backgrounds THAT fouled up, it's no wonder that they had their own interpersonal problems. In fact, it's a wonder that either Michael or Maria were functioning socially at all.
"I uh...figured you two would be here and might like to know what went on after you left..."
"Well...it's your quarter...I guess you can say whatever you came her to say..."
"It looks like they got the info from Pamela Troy....it was Brigham, Rodehammer, and Macgreuder who painted the sign. The county has already got a guy painting it over."
"Guys....I guess they all got a good laugh out of that...hurting Liz."
"I don't think Brigham or Rodehammer are laughing...Max and Kyle pounded them pretty good....I know Macgreuder isn't...word is he's in surgery..."
"Surgery?"
"Yeah...he upped the ante by picking on Whitman. Apparently Izzy is sweet on the guy."
"Izzy? Isabel Evans is sweet on....Alex???"
"Yeah....kind of took me by surprise ,too.... and Macgreuder most definitely was taken by surprise. Last I heard they were trying to put one of his testicles back together after Izzy tried to kick it through the ceiling of the commons. She worked over Pamela Troy a little, too."
Maria gave a crooked little smile. "Well good for her. I already thought I owed her for the use of the jeep, but...well, good for her."
"So...do you guys need anything?"
"Yeah...for this day not to have happened."
"Can't help you there...but if you need anything from town or anything..?"
"No....thank you."
Michael looked at her for long seconds. Finally he had to ask...,"So I guess the sign...it happened the night of the party?"
Maria looked at Michael. He was Max's best friend. Obviously if Liz told her what had happened, Max must have told Michael. She wondered what Michael thought of Liz taking advantage of a drunken Max...but she sure wasn't going to ask him.
"It's not really my story to tell..."
Michael looked at Maria, shaking his head. Max had told him about the discussion at the end of freshman year. He'd watched his best friend...almost his only friend...be depressed most of the summer, and then...after Liz and Kyle had gone to the party, Max had gone into a total funk, unwilling to talk to him about her at all. Now this. Hell, they were just barely sophomores and Liz had to know how much Max cared about her. First she shuns him...then goes out partying with Kyle...and then gets herself pregnant.
"How...how could she do that to Max?" asked Michael.
Maria bristled at the criticism of Liz, but she choked back her anger. "She was drunk, Michael, OK? It happened. It wasn't anything she planned."
"How could she do that to him...make him feel like that all summer..then do..that?"
"She's only human, Michael...OK? She made a mistake, and she's paying for it. "
"Yeah, well Max is paying for it too...and it wasn't HIS mistake."
"And just how is MAX paying for it, Michael. What has Liz asked HIM to do about this? Absolutely nothing, that's what!"
"But...that doesn't stop him from caring. Hell, do you realize he's in jail? Do you know the risk he's taking beating up Brigham like that?"
"Max really did beat up, Bubba?"
"Yeah...he and Kyle heard what they said...saw the paint on their hands...both of them are in jail for assault and battery."
Maria smiled at Michael. Even if Max was mad at Liz for taking advantage of him...he still must care for her if he was willing to do that. If she could only get them together, it still might all work out.
"Michael, here's my telephone number," she said, writing her cellphone number down on a piece of paper. "When you talk to Max, have him give me a call. I REALLY need to talk to him."
"OK, I guess," said Michael. He put his helmet back on and rode off in a cloud of dust.
'He's a big obnoxious goon,' said Maria to herself as she watched him ride off. She was still angry at him for criticizing Liz, but somehow...even with the freaky hair...she had to admit she was attracted to him. 'Still, if someone could knock the rough edges off....'
"Hey, yourself," she replied.... and already the argument seemed to be starting. That's the way it had always been with them...way back to the fifth grade. It would start as a discussion...then a misunderstanding...then an argument. It always worked that way....
The fact of the matter was that when Maria and Michael had met in the fifth grade, the same sort of bond had formed between them that had formed between Max when he got off the bus in second grade and saw Liz, and Isabel when she'd first dreamwalked Alex in the seventh grade. There was a real attraction between them constantly, and they handled it even more poorly than the other two couples handled theirs...not without good reason.
None of the pod children had experienced anything like a normal childhood, so their ability to socialize normally was certainly compromised. Essentially pushed out of the pod at a physical age of six, with no socialization at all, they still hadn't caught up to normal. But at least Max and Isabel had experienced a childhood during which they had witnessed the loving interaction between Philip and Diane Evans. Not so, Michael Guerin.
Michael was the most xenophobic of the three...the one who hid in the rocks and watched as the Evanses gathered Max and Isabel in their car, covered them with warm blankets, and drove off...to fight like crazy with the department of social services to be able to first foster...and later adopt them.
It had taken another week of roaming the desert...cold at night...little food other than what he could scavenge...drinking what water he could find from brackish desert springs...before Michael had gotten so weak that he had no choice but to wait by a road until he was seen by the New Mexico State Patrol Trooper. It wasn't that the trooper wasn't a nice guy, it's just that he had just started his shift and he had responsibilities. He had dumped Michael in the hands of the department of social services almost immediately and he became just another lost soul in a big bureaucratic system.
A social worker...likely with the best of intentions, decided that Michael was 'developmentally disabled' since he was six years old and had yet to learn how to speak. He was institutionalized for almost two years in the Center for Developmental Disability in Gallup New Mexico before it was even determined that he was educable...and then only because one of the staff members noticed that his newspaper continually disappeared if he left it unattended. After that he received intensive language training however even that was less effective than it might have been since, to avoid any semblance of 'cultural imperialism, it was divided almost evenly between Spanish. English, Zuni, Navajo, and Mescalero. Worse yet, it was 'value-neutral' specifically designed not to bias him either toward or away from any culture, and therefore giving him the social tools to be successful in none of them.
Eventually he got spit out into the foster care system, coming to live with Hank and Elly Guerin three weeks before Elly decided she'd had enough of the old drunk, and drove off, fortunately signing Michael up for Fifth grade at Roswell Elementary before she did so, because Hank probably wouldn't have sobered up long enough to do it. In fact, most of the ability to get by in human culture that Michael had was what he'd picked up second hand from shy Max and stand-offish Isabel, neither exactly paragons of socialization themselves, and third hand from Philip and Diane Evans.
So really...it should have come as a great surprise to no one that Michael's social skills were ...embryonic...and that he'd have trouble going anywhere with his attraction towards Maria DeLuca.
Maria actually had some pretty severe problems with socialization of her own. There is an old aphorism in the Woman's Lib movement that 'A woman needs a man, like a fish needs a bicycle.' Perhaps that was even arguably correct in many cases. Unfortunately, the need of a little girl for a father...a male who can instil her with a sense of importance devoid of any sexual attraction and a role model for how males should appropriately treat females...is not quite as dispensable.
It would be wrong to say that Maria had never had a father...at least not in the biological sense like Michael, who had never had parents at all. But in the social sense, Maria's paternity had been every bit as empty as Michaels, and both the manner of her father's departure and Amy's struggles to keep both of them fed, clothed, and housed, had put a real crimp in her ability to find a substitute for Maria's missing father...someone who might provide an appropriate role model for the girl.
Amy Sullivan had been an eighteen year old freshman majoring in sociology at the University of California when she'd met Romie DeLuca. Amy was the daughter of a couple from Marin County who had come of age in the 1960s as Berkeley students. They eventually settled down to an upper middle class lifestyle in the north bay. Romie DeLuca was the son of a Napa valley couple who had some prize vineyards and had sent their son off to school to be the first in the family to get a college degree.
Romie DeLuca had embraced 'the revolution' with...well...revolutionary fervor. Maria had only seen about six pictures of her father...he always looked the same. Long hair, short beard, a 'Viva Che Guevara' t-shirt, green military fatigue pants, and either army boots or sandals depending on his mood.
The 23 year-old teaching assistant had convinced the 18 year old freshman that he was the most socially aware person in the universe...he frequently did that with female students...in an ultimately successful effort to get into the young lady's pants. Maria was the result. The young man had been rather upset that the young Amy had not used protection...although in fairness he had plied her with copious amounts of alcohol and hashish and had used no protection himself...but he'd been positively enraged that she'd refused to abort the child. His parents had insisted that he marry Amy...they were rather traditional Italians...and he'd done so reluctantly...under the threat of being disinherited if he did not...and then only after the contractions were coming at five minute intervals.
It would be fair to say that marriage had not exactly agreed with young Romie DeLuca. Maria had been less than six months old when her father completed his Master's degree and decided to go join the Sandanistas in Nicaragua in a spirit of revolutionary fervor. He loaded Amy and Maria in the rusty old VW microbus held together mainly by 'Save the Whale' and old 'George McGovern for President' stickers, and headed south. The microbus broke down in El Paso Texas and Romie went on south alone...promising he'd be back. In fact he did make it to Nicaragua and briefly did make common cause with the Sandinistas before becoming dispirited with revolutionary socialism. The next Fall he was in Harvard....he mailed the divorce papers to Roswell New Mexico where Amy was trying her best to make a life for herself and for little Maria.
Maria had lost track of her father after she got her birthday card from him fo turning two...she was almost three at the time, but it was probably just as well...he was busy in Business School in Boston, and didn't have time for her anyway. And now at sixteen it would have been too late to have much of a meaningful relationship with him...even if he wasn't busy running a hedge fund and flying with his second trophy wife off to their beach house in the Bahamas.
Amy had been too busy providing them with the basics to have much of a romantic life of her own in the early years. Two years ago, when Maria had turned fourteen, Amy thought she had finally found time for romance and the right guy to share her life with, but sadly it wasn't to be. After the first pass her would-be boyfriend had made AT MARIA, she'd quickly cut that relationship off. So for the immediate future, there wasn't going to be a man in Amy's life...or a father in Maria's either.
Maria's whole background had left her not very trusting of men in general. Michael was a little less socially graceful than most. It was little wonder they often fought. Had they both not actually been in love, it would have no doubt been far worse. So with both of them having backgrounds THAT fouled up, it's no wonder that they had their own interpersonal problems. In fact, it's a wonder that either Michael or Maria were functioning socially at all.
"I uh...figured you two would be here and might like to know what went on after you left..."
"Well...it's your quarter...I guess you can say whatever you came her to say..."
"It looks like they got the info from Pamela Troy....it was Brigham, Rodehammer, and Macgreuder who painted the sign. The county has already got a guy painting it over."
"Guys....I guess they all got a good laugh out of that...hurting Liz."
"I don't think Brigham or Rodehammer are laughing...Max and Kyle pounded them pretty good....I know Macgreuder isn't...word is he's in surgery..."
"Surgery?"
"Yeah...he upped the ante by picking on Whitman. Apparently Izzy is sweet on the guy."
"Izzy? Isabel Evans is sweet on....Alex???"
"Yeah....kind of took me by surprise ,too.... and Macgreuder most definitely was taken by surprise. Last I heard they were trying to put one of his testicles back together after Izzy tried to kick it through the ceiling of the commons. She worked over Pamela Troy a little, too."
Maria gave a crooked little smile. "Well good for her. I already thought I owed her for the use of the jeep, but...well, good for her."
"So...do you guys need anything?"
"Yeah...for this day not to have happened."
"Can't help you there...but if you need anything from town or anything..?"
"No....thank you."
Michael looked at her for long seconds. Finally he had to ask...,"So I guess the sign...it happened the night of the party?"
Maria looked at Michael. He was Max's best friend. Obviously if Liz told her what had happened, Max must have told Michael. She wondered what Michael thought of Liz taking advantage of a drunken Max...but she sure wasn't going to ask him.
"It's not really my story to tell..."
Michael looked at Maria, shaking his head. Max had told him about the discussion at the end of freshman year. He'd watched his best friend...almost his only friend...be depressed most of the summer, and then...after Liz and Kyle had gone to the party, Max had gone into a total funk, unwilling to talk to him about her at all. Now this. Hell, they were just barely sophomores and Liz had to know how much Max cared about her. First she shuns him...then goes out partying with Kyle...and then gets herself pregnant.
"How...how could she do that to Max?" asked Michael.
Maria bristled at the criticism of Liz, but she choked back her anger. "She was drunk, Michael, OK? It happened. It wasn't anything she planned."
"How could she do that to him...make him feel like that all summer..then do..that?"
"She's only human, Michael...OK? She made a mistake, and she's paying for it. "
"Yeah, well Max is paying for it too...and it wasn't HIS mistake."
"And just how is MAX paying for it, Michael. What has Liz asked HIM to do about this? Absolutely nothing, that's what!"
"But...that doesn't stop him from caring. Hell, do you realize he's in jail? Do you know the risk he's taking beating up Brigham like that?"
"Max really did beat up, Bubba?"
"Yeah...he and Kyle heard what they said...saw the paint on their hands...both of them are in jail for assault and battery."
Maria smiled at Michael. Even if Max was mad at Liz for taking advantage of him...he still must care for her if he was willing to do that. If she could only get them together, it still might all work out.
"Michael, here's my telephone number," she said, writing her cellphone number down on a piece of paper. "When you talk to Max, have him give me a call. I REALLY need to talk to him."
"OK, I guess," said Michael. He put his helmet back on and rode off in a cloud of dust.
'He's a big obnoxious goon,' said Maria to herself as she watched him ride off. She was still angry at him for criticizing Liz, but somehow...even with the freaky hair...she had to admit she was attracted to him. 'Still, if someone could knock the rough edges off....'
Last edited by greywolf on Mon May 05, 2008 2:23 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Re: Decisions AUwA (Mature) 4/24/2008
The morning was hectic at the Chaves county planning office...so hectic that Jaime Rodriquez had missed the drama going on at the school and the water tank altogether. What he saw were long lines of customers trying to get permits...and too few people like himself available to help them. Monday mornings were always like this.
"Good morning, Jaime," said the man. "Do you mind if I get the key to the archives, myself?"
"Please do...It's another Monday and we're getting swamped."
The MAN stepped back behind the counter and reached for the key, hanging there. "Gracias, Jaime."
"De nada, Senor," Jaime replied, going back to a regular customer. While there was nothing particularly secret in the old archives...they were all public records, normally those wanting to use the archives would be accompanied by a clerk but the man wasn't exactly a normal customer. He was well known around Chaves County, occasionally active in local politics....besides, he'd done this before. He'd explained to Jaime Rodriquez that he was in the process of writing a book about the history of the area, and Jaime had no reason to doubt it. The man's family had played a prominent role in that history. So it was really no surprise that the man would write such a book.
The records had been moved to storage in the old courthouse building when the county government had been transferred there...back when the 'new' courthouse was built in 1950. It took a few minutes, but the man eventually found the records he wanted....the building itself had been built in 1897...first three story building in the city of Roswell. It was of brick construction and used initially as a Mercantile Emporium on the ground floor, with the two floors above that used as a boarding house with a kitchen, dining area, bathroom, and six small bedrooms on the second floor and four small bedrooms above that.
One could buy anything from sassafras root to horse shoes at the Mercantile Emporium. It was as fine a store as you could find south of Denver, north of Dallas, west of St Louis, or East of San Francisco for about ten years. Then, as Roswell got larger, it lost business to the smaller 'specialty shops' that sold only foodstuffs or clothing or hardware. The 'big box' stores just sort of went out of favor, and the lower level fell on hard times. Although the boarding house kept the building solvent through most of 1910, the Mercantile Emporium closed its doors in 1908. With the coming of the Pecos Southern Railroad construction in 1911 the lower part of the building became a saloon and dance hall for a few years, with the top four rooms rented out by the hour to the dancehall girls and their 'guests', much to the consternation of the people boarding in the six lower rooms. But with the coming of Prohibition, these activities too ceased as all activities involving alcoholic beverages moved down south of the border.
The building suffered through the Great Depression but became briefly profitable again during WWII. The bottom of the building was turned in to a USO and the upper two stories housed the visiting wives and sweethearts of personnel assigned to the Roswell Army Air Corps base. By the end of WWII, boarding houses had gone out of style. or a short period in 1947 the rooms were rented to visiting journalists who were exploring a rumor about a flying saucer, but they emptied shortly thereafter when it was determined by the Army Air Corps that only a weather balloon had been involved. During the 1950s and 1960s the boarding house rooms went unused while the bottom floor became a used furniture store. With the stagflation of the 1970s, this enterprise too went under and the building sat abandoned for almost a decade and a half, its windows broken and the upper rooms accumulating a truly astounding amount of pigeon poop in a downtown Roswell are filled with similar old, decrepit, underutilized, and frankly abandoned buildings.
In late 1986 an effort was made be a few determined locals to attempt to restore the decayed central area. The building, like a few others, was bought at tax sale. The purchaser of the building borrowed heavily and renovated the building extensively. The lower floor was converted into two shops that were rented out to obtain some cash flow, and one medium sized restaurant. The second story was renovated to become a family living area, a master bedroom, a nursery that would become a guest bedroom when the couple's young child became old enough to move up to the third floor. The four small bedrooms there were converted to one large bedroom, a storage area, and a bathroom with shower. The last things done before opening the restaurant were to add a sign over the main entrance that said 'Crashdown Cafe' and to paing caricatures of alien beings in the main service area.
But the individual looking at the records already knew most of that...he had seen most of that happening himself. What he wanted to see were the utility schematics...and eventually he found them.
Initially the downtown area of Roswell and the major buildings in it had been illuminated by water-gas prepared at the municipal gasworks. This was a fairly common practice at the time...despite the not insubstantial risk of death due to carbon monoxide poisoning. Each of the upper bedrooms had once had a pair of gaslights on each of its brick walls, fed from the municipal supply through pipes that had been built in at the time of the brick building's construction. Even after the municipal supply had been converted to natural gas in the 1920s with the discovery of huge oil fields in Oklahoma and Texas, interior gas lighting had been somewhat chancy, producing numerous fires. In the late1930s the Roswell area had been put on the electric grid, and as the records showed, the valve in the alley going to these rooms had been locked, the gaslight sconces themselves removed and the pipes capped at the time of the 1986 renovation. But the pipes were still there...no one had torn through the bricks to remove them, and if the caps could simply be removed from the pipes behind the newer electrical fixtures, just by cutting the padlock and opening the valve in the alley beside the natural gas regulator that served the grill, a flood of natural gas could be sent up into that renovated third floor....the third floor that now served as the bedroom for the child that had once slept in the second floor nursery...the child that now had her own room overlooking the roof of the second floor...the child who was now sixteen...and with child herself.
The man had seen the painting on the water tank...knew the girl was upset. If tonight she had chosen to retreat to the privacy of the old homestead, her room would sit empty and it would be relatively easy for someone to make their way up the old fire escape, enter the upstairs, and uncap the old gas pipes. After that, it would be easy to take care of the girl and make it look like an accident. Gas explosions occurred all the time....especially in these older buildings. The man smiled.
As soon as he left the building and got in his car, the man picked up his cellphone and made the call. Miles away, another man answered...a man who looked like a beefy Buttface. "We need to get some rest. The boss may have a job for us tonight."
"Good morning, Jaime," said the man. "Do you mind if I get the key to the archives, myself?"
"Please do...It's another Monday and we're getting swamped."
The MAN stepped back behind the counter and reached for the key, hanging there. "Gracias, Jaime."
"De nada, Senor," Jaime replied, going back to a regular customer. While there was nothing particularly secret in the old archives...they were all public records, normally those wanting to use the archives would be accompanied by a clerk but the man wasn't exactly a normal customer. He was well known around Chaves County, occasionally active in local politics....besides, he'd done this before. He'd explained to Jaime Rodriquez that he was in the process of writing a book about the history of the area, and Jaime had no reason to doubt it. The man's family had played a prominent role in that history. So it was really no surprise that the man would write such a book.
The records had been moved to storage in the old courthouse building when the county government had been transferred there...back when the 'new' courthouse was built in 1950. It took a few minutes, but the man eventually found the records he wanted....the building itself had been built in 1897...first three story building in the city of Roswell. It was of brick construction and used initially as a Mercantile Emporium on the ground floor, with the two floors above that used as a boarding house with a kitchen, dining area, bathroom, and six small bedrooms on the second floor and four small bedrooms above that.
One could buy anything from sassafras root to horse shoes at the Mercantile Emporium. It was as fine a store as you could find south of Denver, north of Dallas, west of St Louis, or East of San Francisco for about ten years. Then, as Roswell got larger, it lost business to the smaller 'specialty shops' that sold only foodstuffs or clothing or hardware. The 'big box' stores just sort of went out of favor, and the lower level fell on hard times. Although the boarding house kept the building solvent through most of 1910, the Mercantile Emporium closed its doors in 1908. With the coming of the Pecos Southern Railroad construction in 1911 the lower part of the building became a saloon and dance hall for a few years, with the top four rooms rented out by the hour to the dancehall girls and their 'guests', much to the consternation of the people boarding in the six lower rooms. But with the coming of Prohibition, these activities too ceased as all activities involving alcoholic beverages moved down south of the border.
The building suffered through the Great Depression but became briefly profitable again during WWII. The bottom of the building was turned in to a USO and the upper two stories housed the visiting wives and sweethearts of personnel assigned to the Roswell Army Air Corps base. By the end of WWII, boarding houses had gone out of style. or a short period in 1947 the rooms were rented to visiting journalists who were exploring a rumor about a flying saucer, but they emptied shortly thereafter when it was determined by the Army Air Corps that only a weather balloon had been involved. During the 1950s and 1960s the boarding house rooms went unused while the bottom floor became a used furniture store. With the stagflation of the 1970s, this enterprise too went under and the building sat abandoned for almost a decade and a half, its windows broken and the upper rooms accumulating a truly astounding amount of pigeon poop in a downtown Roswell are filled with similar old, decrepit, underutilized, and frankly abandoned buildings.
In late 1986 an effort was made be a few determined locals to attempt to restore the decayed central area. The building, like a few others, was bought at tax sale. The purchaser of the building borrowed heavily and renovated the building extensively. The lower floor was converted into two shops that were rented out to obtain some cash flow, and one medium sized restaurant. The second story was renovated to become a family living area, a master bedroom, a nursery that would become a guest bedroom when the couple's young child became old enough to move up to the third floor. The four small bedrooms there were converted to one large bedroom, a storage area, and a bathroom with shower. The last things done before opening the restaurant were to add a sign over the main entrance that said 'Crashdown Cafe' and to paing caricatures of alien beings in the main service area.
But the individual looking at the records already knew most of that...he had seen most of that happening himself. What he wanted to see were the utility schematics...and eventually he found them.
Initially the downtown area of Roswell and the major buildings in it had been illuminated by water-gas prepared at the municipal gasworks. This was a fairly common practice at the time...despite the not insubstantial risk of death due to carbon monoxide poisoning. Each of the upper bedrooms had once had a pair of gaslights on each of its brick walls, fed from the municipal supply through pipes that had been built in at the time of the brick building's construction. Even after the municipal supply had been converted to natural gas in the 1920s with the discovery of huge oil fields in Oklahoma and Texas, interior gas lighting had been somewhat chancy, producing numerous fires. In the late1930s the Roswell area had been put on the electric grid, and as the records showed, the valve in the alley going to these rooms had been locked, the gaslight sconces themselves removed and the pipes capped at the time of the 1986 renovation. But the pipes were still there...no one had torn through the bricks to remove them, and if the caps could simply be removed from the pipes behind the newer electrical fixtures, just by cutting the padlock and opening the valve in the alley beside the natural gas regulator that served the grill, a flood of natural gas could be sent up into that renovated third floor....the third floor that now served as the bedroom for the child that had once slept in the second floor nursery...the child that now had her own room overlooking the roof of the second floor...the child who was now sixteen...and with child herself.
The man had seen the painting on the water tank...knew the girl was upset. If tonight she had chosen to retreat to the privacy of the old homestead, her room would sit empty and it would be relatively easy for someone to make their way up the old fire escape, enter the upstairs, and uncap the old gas pipes. After that, it would be easy to take care of the girl and make it look like an accident. Gas explosions occurred all the time....especially in these older buildings. The man smiled.
As soon as he left the building and got in his car, the man picked up his cellphone and made the call. Miles away, another man answered...a man who looked like a beefy Buttface. "We need to get some rest. The boss may have a job for us tonight."
Last edited by greywolf on Mon May 05, 2008 2:28 pm, edited 3 times in total.