Senna looked at Andrea in a way that conveyed, really, you had to ask, same as every other single day. They both broke out in laughter.
Senna watched Andrea as she went through paperwork checking to make sure it was all complete and correct. She pondered about Andrea and the continual and deep joy she saw radiating from her. She wondered where it came from and how did you make it your own.
Happiness was one thing. She had been experiencing that more and more lately with Blake and Andrea. But what she saw in Andrea was something else, something deeper.
Senna still internally roiled with turmoil. It seemed that, yes, she had experienced more happiness, but fear and anger had come out from somewhere deep inside her to challenge it. The result was a horrific toxin of emotions.
It also seemed that she was less in control of her emotions than ever before. A good example was the anger she felt rise up in her over the boys on the street. Before she even realized what was happening, it had overtaken her. She did not like feeling out of control.
“Andrea, can I ask you something?” asked Senna. She paused momentarily as she tried to form the right question. The knot in her stomach was growing the more she hesitated.
“Sure, what?” asked Andrea while still scanning through her paperwork.
She took a deep breath and began, “I’m not even sure where to begin. I have felt much happier lately. Both you and Blake have brought friendship into my life that I’ve never had before. It’s changed me so much and it’s nice to feel that happiness.” Senna paused collecting her thoughts.
“But...,” Andrea had looked up from the paperwork to give Senna her full attention.
“Before, I felt I had a firm lid on my emotions. It is true I never felt much of anything, maybe sadness. But learning to laugh and cry with you seems to have opened a Pandora’s box of emotions, not just the good ones.” Now that she had started, words began to tumble out from within her.
“Yesterday when I was walking home, I nearly got run over by two boys on skateboards. I literally had to grab the light post to keep from falling. They were just playing and really didn’t mean anything by it. But I suddenly got so angry. Then I thought of my father and got even angrier, so much so that I started grinding my teeth. I have never felt that way before.” Senna’s face was pinched with deep lines of concern.
Andrea listened to her friend. Internally she was quietly contemplating, praying what to say to her. She knew her friend was fragile and she wanted to say the right thing.
Senna continued. “I feel happy one minute, then fearful the next, and then angry. There is such a cauldron of emotion inside of me like I’ve never experienced. They don’t just rise up and quietly say ‘hi’, they violently fight for attention.” Senna mimicked incredulity as she ended her sentence.
A customer walked up to the counter just then, so the conversation had to be tabled. Andrea walked back to the office to file her paperwork. The bright light of the computer screen glowed before her and it took her a moment to realize she needed to login. She was so lost in thought over what to say to Senna. Slowly she continued to the library system to file her monthly reports.
Her thoughts were on Senna though. It seemed the beginning of an outward change had caused a drastic internal conflict. She was not a psychologist and really had no idea what to say to Senna. For someone who had gone through the abuse and torment that Senna had, it would probably be best if she went to see a counselor or therapist who could give her the right support, the support specific to her needs.
Her monthly report didn’t match what it should, so she shifted her concentration and became lost in figuring out where the error was. It was lunchtime before she thought again about Senna and her problem.
Leaning back in her chair the thought that she should see if she could find a good counselor to recommend to Senna came back to her. Andrea knew just presenting the suggestion to go to a counselor without presenting an actual person to call, would not be a solution.
Sitting at her desk staring across the room, she thought of someone she knew that she could email and ask for recommendations. She quickly sent that email right before she stopped for lunch. Hopefully, Senna would not feel she was intruding in her life. It may have never occurred to her to seek professional help with what she is going through, Andrea thought.
With the email sent Andrea went out to see how things were in the library. She doubted that Senna had been overrun with customers while she had been attending to paperwork. Wednesday mornings were typically very slow.
“I finally got all that paperwork done for the month,” Andrea said. She was relieved to have that monthly part of her job out of the way for now.
“Everything is fine out here. We only had one lady come in to see what was new in the novel section.” Senna was dusting bookcases and furniture.
“What did you have planned for lunch?” asked Andrea.
“Well, I brought my lunch, but honestly I am kind of tired of bringing my lunch every day. I’ve been doing that for so long that I can’t bear to eat the same thing day after day any longer.”
Andrea chuckled, thinking she would have grown tired of it long before now. This was a welcome change in Senna’s life, thought Andrea.
“How about a pizza?” asked Andrea. “I heard the Razorback Corner bought a pizza oven and is making pizzas now. I thought it couldn’t hurt to try one. How does that sound to you?”
It didn’t take much thought from Senna, “Sure, sounds good. You pick, I'm willing to try whatever you think looks good. Here, I’ll get you some money for the whole thing if you will go pick it up.”
“Sure!” exclaimed Andrea.
With lunch plotted and planned Andrea left and Senna continued with her cleaning. This job provided an enormous amount of time to think, sometimes too much, thought Senna as she made sure she didn’t get sloppy in her dusting routine.
Today she was thinking about the changes in her life, and how nice they were. She was also thinking how she wished the person she was on the inside would match up to what she was becoming on the outside. She knew Andrea was seeing a new Senna, and it was true, much had changed.
But inside, she almost felt more broken. It seemed as though new emotions, thoughts, and considerations were invading her internal workings and messing with all the things she had thought to be certain. It was as if these new intruders were sticking up the gears of her mind causing them to disengage and falter.
She snorted to herself, thinking how stupid it all sounded. But this was new territory for her and she honestly had no idea how to navigate it. Maybe she should talk to Andrea about it. Would her friend be disappointed in her? She didn’t know, but knew she had to do something. The new inside was tearing the new outside to shreds and she couldn’t keep going on like this.
Just then the bell on the front door rang and in walked Andrea with the pizza. “I got Spinach Alfredo with chicken. Sound good?”
“Oooh yes,” Senna’s mouth was watering from the smell of hot pizza.
Andrea took the pizza back into the office and sat it on the little table she had in the corner of the room as Senna followed her. When Andrea walked into the room, she noticed that she had a new email in her in-box. She thought about the request she had sent to a friend asking about a recommendation for a counselor.
As they ate, Andrea was distracted by how to best approach Senna with suggesting she talk to a counselor. She knew her friend had been through so much and didn’t want to hurt her further, but she really felt she needed someone else who could really help her through this.
“It seems like something’s on your mind. Do you want to talk about it?” asked Senna. Maybe she could help her friend by listening to her for a change.
That was an open door, thought Andrea. She looked at Senna for a minute longer attempting to form the perfect sentence. “Yes, there has been something on my mind. First, let me say how proud of you I am that you have been courageous enough to try new things and are trying to b
reak free from your difficult past. I admire what you have been able to overcome. I don’t know that I would have been able to do it.”
“But...” Senna felt like a brick wall was about to fall on her.
“But, I think maybe you are only partially there. I feel you have come so very far, but that there is still a way to go and I don’t know how to help you get there.” There, it was out, thought Andrea. Good or bad, it was out there. She half-held her breath waiting for Senna’s response.
There was no change on Senna’s face as she thought about what Andrea had just said. It seemed ironic that she herself had just been thinking about managing her feelings and where to go from here.
“You know how I hate talking about myself,” replied Senna.
“Yes, I know,” she used a soft voice when she replied to her friend. Senna looked sideways and down at the floor, thinking. Andrea sat waiting, she didn’t want to push.
Senna thought to herself about needing to take yet another step forward that seemed so very difficult. She knew if she didn’t keep pushing through this emotional quagmire, though, she would never come through it completely. But she didn’t know if she had the strength to let one more person into her pain, her past, her heart.
Andrea reached across the table and rested her hand gently on her friend’s wrist. “Senna, I only make the suggestion because I care about you deeply. If I had the ability to help you through this I would, but I don’t. I will stand beside you and be here for you to confide in. But there are things from your past that you need an experienced professional to guide you. Someone who has experience in helping people put these kinds of things to rest; hopefully, once and for all.” Andrea’s eyes were sympathetic but pleading.
Senna smiled at her friend and a tear slid from the corner of her eye. She nodded quietly. That quiet agreement spurred more tears to flow softly down Senna’s cheeks.
Andrea reached out and hugged her friend. “I know it will be hard at first, but you will see that each time you talk about it, the better you will feel. Someone who knows how to handle this, can help you learn how to release your past so you can truly move forward.”
Wiping her eyes with her fingers, Senna said, “But I have no idea where to start. Where to find the right someone.”
“If you would like, I can get a recommendation from someone I trust.” She didn’t want to tell her friend that the recommendation was probably already sitting in her in-box. She was concerned that Senna would feel hurt that Andrea had gone ahead without asking her first.
“Yes, I trust you to help me. If you trust the recommendation, then that is good enough for me.” Senna took a ragged breath and wiped the remaining tears from her face. She was no longer hungry and just sat staring at her plate.
Finally Senna smiled and took another bite. They continued to eat their lunch until the front door chimed. Andrea got up to see who had entered as Senna sat reflecting on yet another bend in the road ahead.
~~~
The courtroom in downtown Oklahoma City was cold when Blake first arrived. The throng of bodies that would soon challenge the AC system had not yet arrived. Today was the final day of trial when he would give the closing argument for his client.
He knew he had done all he could do, or he thought so. No matter how much effort, research, and planning he put into these cases, or how clear his client’s innocence seemed to be, he could never shake the overwhelming doubt about how twelve jurors would decide.
Lawyers were professionals at portraying confidence on the exterior while hiding the insecurity which raged within them. Blake knew most of them would never admit that they were just trying to play the best hand presented to them, hoping that their hand was the winning one. Blake thought, everyone tries to appear to the world like we know we have the winning hand and are so skilled at acting genuinely surprised when we don’t.
On the first and last day of a trial, the days he would give his opening and closing arguments, he always arrived early. He liked to sit in the quiet and feel the courtroom. He would often slowly pace in front of the jury box mentally rehearsing his argument.
At his first trial, he had not done this. He had planned to arrive about ten minutes before court was set to start. He did just that, but the traffic had been a beast, and he’d had to juggle his briefcase, coffee, and extra files—unsuccessfully; so when he finally sat down in his seat, he felt as tight as a piano string with no time to calm himself and focus.
Ever since that day, he made it a point to arrive extremely early so he could have the courtroom to himself. The drive would usually be quiet because the normal commuters were not yet out. He would enjoy the easy drive, listening to music that helped him feel stronger and ready to take on the day.
Criminal defense was not the glamorous life that it was portrayed on TV. He firmly believed in the US Constitution and the concept that all people deserved a fair and speedy trial and, above all, to have their side heard in a court of law. As noble and glamorous as that sounded, it was often messy and uncomfortable.
In law school, he naively held the firm resolve that he would only defend innocent people. His righteous and moral indignation initially pushed the guilty into a category he did not want to pull clients from. But somewhere along the way, his heart had changed.
First of all, it was incredibly difficult to tell whether someone was guilty or innocent. But more than that, as he sat and listened to guilty people, everyday people like himself who had done the wrong thing, he’d found compassion.
True, there were hardened criminals who just didn’t care about right or wrong, or who they hurt. But so many that came to him for legal help had just lost their way. And most were repentant and already paying an emotional penalty far more painful than what a state or federal incarceration would enforce.
In time, he grew to believe this was a calling. Blake was in a place to extend love and acceptance to these people at their lowest place in life. He gave them the very best legal defense he could in the courts, but he also extended to them an ear to listen, somehow letting them know they were not alone. He wanted each client to know he cared because he did care.
Today, his client was a young woman who had been abused as a child. When she was a teenager she had found solace in relationships with men. She had felt what she thought was love when boys desired sex from her. There had been no one in her life to teach her about her worth as a woman, or that love was the exact opposite of what she was undertaking.
Now, at twenty-three she had been discarded by more men than she could count. The deepening black hole in her soul had led her to drugs in an attempt to make the pain go away. She was broken and used, and when Blake looked at her, his heart broke.
She was guilty of selling narcotics to the undercover officer, but it was Blake’s hope he could get the judge to recommend a minimum security treatment facility. He hoped to one day see her healthy and whole.
The Assistant District Attorney the case had been assigned to hated to deal. When he knew the jury would see obvious guilt, he always pushed for the maximum he could get. Blake was sure he had an actual scoreboard set up somewhere that he added hash tags to with each win.
So they went to court. Blake would have loved to spare his client the ordeal, but then maybe this particular hard time would help her in some way. He had bought her a few changes of clothes for court out of his own pocket. She had cried when he gave them to her and she sat fingering the soft new fabric of each piece. He wondered how long it had been since she’d had something new, or since someone had shown her a true act of kindness.
His assistant Mandy had met him there each morning and helped his client with her hair and a tad bit of makeup. Each day he had seen a chipping away of the hardness which she had used to block out the world.
Blake had seen hope in her eyes. His only hope today was that he would not see that hope shattered if he could not get her the help she needed. It was a lot of pressure, but he didn’t carry the weight alone. It was his faith
in God that had brought him this far and it would be that faith which would give him the power to do the best job he could do for her.
The sounds of people entering the courthouse increased and Blake looked at his watch. It was time for his client to have arrived in the holding room. He gathered his things and headed that way.
Mandy was just beginning to start with his client’s hair. He could tell that she realized the reality of what this day held. She gave it her best attempt to smile, but it was faltering. As she watched Blake pull out a chair and sit down, she was trying not to cry.
“Mr. Burton, I want to thank you so much for all that you have done for me. I know that they may decide that I have to go to prison instead of treatment, but either way I won’t do those drugs any more. I am truly scared about prison, but I feel stronger having had you here with me.”
“You just remember that you are not the bad experiences and wrong choices you’ve made. You are a woman of worth and you have a hope and a future. No person or prison can take that away from you,” Blake held her gaze to make sure she heard what he was saying to her. He truly wanted her to know there was hope beyond this moment.
Back in the courtroom when they were all in their places, the judge brought the court to order. Through the course of the morning, Blake gave his closing argument. He could deliver it with sincerity about his desire to rehabilitate his young client. He spoke of the unfortunate evils of prison life and how low the stats were for positive rehabilitation. After an hour, he sat down and gave the floor over to the judge.
The prosecution came out with guns blazing. This was his last opportunity to get the jury angry and indignant at the young lady at the defense table. He spat vehemence out when describing her and that she was just one more of society’s ills and how we needed to protect our youth from such as she.
Blake could tell the ADA’s words were having a hard effect on his client. He quietly patted the hand she had resting on the table. He was careful to draw firm lines between himself and his clients when it came to physical contact, but there were times compassion dictated it was necessary.
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