The Advocate's Illusion

by Teresa Burrell

  Bob glanced over the paperwork. “Looks easy enough. We get her into a clean house and return the kids.”

  “Read on,” Sabre said.

  “And, get her into a drug treatment program,” Bob said.

  “And?”

  “And, keep her away from the Kool-Aid.” Bob smiled. “Oh, this is good.” He continued to read the report. “She said Jim Jones spoke to her from the afterlife. He wants her to follow in his footsteps and watch for the next Halley’s Comet.”

  “Does she know it’s not due for another forty or fifty years?”

  “She must be a very patient woman, and she’ll only be in her eighties. She could have quite a following by then.”

  “She has her mass suicides all mixed up. Jim Jones was the leader of the Guyana mass suicide. It was Heaven’s Gate that was waiting for the comet, not Jonestown.”

  “Maybe she knows something they didn’t. After all, she’s waiting for Halley’s Comet. Heaven’s Gate was looking for the Hale-Bopp Comet. Maybe they had that part wrong.”

  “You’re weird, you know that? You’re a perfect match for your client.”

  Bob laughed out loud as he read.

  “What’s so funny?” Sabre asked.

  “Have you read this?”

  “Not all of it.”

  “Apparently, Jones not only spoke to her, he impregnated her. She listed him as the father of her unborn baby. He assured her it would be a boy, and she was to teach him the wisdom of his ways. Her son would be the great disciple. It says she wants to name her baby after the comet.”

  “She wants to name the baby Hale-Bopp?”

  “No—Halley.” He looked at Sabre. “Try to keep up.”

  Bob had a strange sense of humor. It was one of the things that endeared him to Sabre. He joked about things that often weren’t politically correct, but working in juvenile court could do that to you. Working with abused children and seeing the atrocities every day required a certain attitude to cope with all the suffering they witnessed.

  “Let’s go see if we can get this done,” Sabre said. They left the lounge and walked down the hallway toward Department Five, the courtroom where the case would be heard.

  Bob was still smiling as they walked down the corridor. Kourtney Ingram, a young, inexperienced attorney from the Dependency Law Group, greeted them in front of the department’s door.

  “Hi, Sabre,” Kourtney said. “I see you’re on the Parker case. I’ll be appointed for the father.”

  “Jim Jones?” Bob asked.

  “No, I don’t think that’s his name. It’s for Denny’s father.” She glanced at her petition.

  “Are you sure it isn’t for Jim Jones?” Bob asked. “Because it can’t be Marshall Applewhite; he had himself voluntarily castrated.” Sabre nudged him with her elbow. She was certain Kourtney was too young to remember the incidents that happened in Guyana or with the last coming of the Hale-Bopp Comet.

  “Who are Marshall Applewhite and Jim Jones?” Kourtney asked.

  “They’re both dead guys,” Bob said. “Suicides.”

  Kourtney frowned at Bob and shook her head.

  “Jim Jones was the leader of a cult that committed mass suicide in 1986 in Guyana,” Sabre explained. “Marshall Applewhite was the leader of Heaven’s Gate, another group that killed themselves.”

  “And what’s all the stuff in the report about Halley’s Comet?” Kourtney asked Sabre.

  Bob answered. “In Guyana, more than nine hundred followers took their lives by drinking a poisoned punch. Then, in 1997 in Rancho Santa Fe, a little north of here, thirty-nine members of Heaven’s Gate killed themselves. Heaven’s Gate believed there was a spaceship on the tail of the Hale-Bopp Comet, and they could shed their earthly bodies and catch a ride to the next level. They drank lethal cocktails of phenobarbital, applesauce, and vodka, which was a much better idea than Jim Jones’ Kool-Aid, which wasn’t actually even Kool-Aid, just some generic punch. The cops found the Heaven’s Gate group lying in bunk beds, their faces covered with square, purple cloths, all wearing black, Nike Decade running shoes.”

  Kourtney squirmed.

  “I still wonder about those Nikes,” Bob said. “Do you suppose they wanted good running shoes in case they had to catch the spaceship?”

  Sabre ignored him. “The mother, Ellesse Parker, seems to be a little confused about the father of her unborn baby. I’m sure Bob will sort it all out when he talks to her,” Sabre said to Kourtney. “Is Denny’s father here?”

  “He’s in custody, but I’ll have him produced for the next hearing. So, I’m ready whenever you two are.”

  “We need Wagner, so it might be a while. He’s the attorney for Sarah’s father. And Bob needs to talk to the mother,” Sabre said. “And there she is.” Sabre nodded toward a woman who was sitting alone on a bench against the wall. “I’ll introduce you.”

  A young woman carrying a baby walked over to where Ellesse was sitting and sat down, then wrinkled her nose, stood up, and moved to the next bench. Even though it was a crowded hallway, no one was within six feet of Ellesse Parker.

  Bob glanced at Sabre. “Is it that bad?”

  “Just be glad you have no sense of smell.”

  Chapter 4

  The Parker Case

  Sabre introduced Bob to his client, then walked away.

  “I hate that bitch,” Ellesse muttered before Sabre was out of earshot.

  “She’s not so bad once you get to know her,” Bob said. He wanted to tell her she wasn’t half the woman Sabre was. Sabre was his best friend, and Bob didn’t like anyone putting her down, but he knew most of the parents in these cases blamed the minors’ attorneys or the social workers for taking their kids. The rest blamed their own attorneys for not getting them out of the impossible messes they’d gotten themselves into. He knew that if the parents put half as much effort into getting their lives in order as they put into fighting the system, they would have their kids back. But even though his clients often irritated him, it never stopped him from giving them the best defense. This would be no exception.

  “I know her well enough to know I don’t like her,” Ellesse said. “She has no business nosing around my house. I kept that house clean for nearly eight months last time. I let it slip a little bit, and they yank the kids out. It hasn’t been easy, you know, with being pregnant and all. And with the father not around, how am I supposed to get help?”

  “Let’s talk about that,” Bob said. “Who is the father of your unborn child?”

  “Jim Jones, the evangelist,” she said as she looked Bob straight in the eye. He didn’t flinch. “I know it sounds crazy, but he came to me one night and made love to me.”

  “Did he just appear?” Bob asked without any hint of sarcasm.

  “Of course not. He followed me home from a bar one night. He said he had been watching me for a while, and I was the chosen one. He was so sexy and sweet. We made love all night long. And in the morning, before he left, he told me I was pregnant, and I would have a boy. He said someday our son would be a great spiritual leader, just like him.”

  “Did he say anything about a comet?” Bob asked seriously.

  “He did.” She squinted her eyes and looked at Bob for a couple of seconds. “But how did you know that?”

  “I read it in the report.”

  She nodded her head knowingly. “You know more than that, don’t you?”

  Bob had a hard time containing himself, but he managed to keep a straight face. “No, I just read what the social worker wrote.”

  She took a breath. “Jim told me that when Halley’s Comet returns to earth, a spaceship will be traveling in its wake. It will pick up me and our son, and his many children, and take them to Heaven. He said our son, Halley, will father ninety-nine children, and they’ll all go with us.”

  “And it was Halley’s Comet, not the Hale-Bopp Comet?”

  Ellesse looked confused.

  “Never mind,” Bob said. “Did he tell you he was…u
h…dead?”

  “He told me he was a spirit who had returned and that together we would have a heavenly experience.”

  Bob made a coughing sound and covered his mouth to keep from laughing. “And did you?”

  “Yes. It was the best night of my life. It was trippy.”

  “Did you ever see him again after that?”

  “No. He only had one night on Earth and could only be with one woman. Imagine that—he chose me.”

  “Yeah, imagine that.”

  At first, Bob thought she was making it all up, or she was just crazy, but the more he listened to her, the more he realized she believed every word.

  “How can you be certain Jim Jones is the father?”

  “I just told you. Before he left, he said I was pregnant.”

  “Other than that. Is it possible someone else impregnated you?”

  “It had been months since I slept with anyone before Jim.”

  “And since then?”

  “No one. I’m not sure I ever could. It just wouldn’t be the same.”

  Bob explained Ellesse’s constitutional rights to her and discussed what would happen at the hearing, suggesting that she not explain in detail in court about Jim Jones. As they discussed her plea, Richard Wagner walked past and entered Department Five. Kourtney, the attorney for Denny’s father, went inside as well.

  “I think they may be ready for us,” Bob said.

  “Good. I want to get out of here.”

  Bob stuck his head inside the courtroom and saw that the judge was on the bench, but they were not in session. Sabre was talking to the court reporter. “I’m ready on Parker,” Bob said to the judge. “It looks like everyone is here.”

  “Let’s do it,” Judge Chino said.

  Within a few minutes, the parties and their attorneys were all seated at the counsel table, along with Deputy County Counsel Linda Farris.

  After the case was called and pleas of denial were entered to the petition, Linda Farris asked the court to inquire about the father of the unborn child.

  Bob stood up. “Your Honor, I don’t believe that’s an issue for this hearing since that child is not under the jurisdiction of this court.”

  Judge Chino said, “That is correct, counselor, but can you shed any light on this issue anyway?”

  “According to my client, the child is a result of a one-night encounter with a man who said his name was Jim Jones.”

  “It wasn’t an encounter,” Ellesse said. “It was….”

  Bob leaned down and whispered in her ear, and she stopped talking.

  “Did your client want to add something, Mr. Clark?”

  “Not at this time, Your Honor,” Bob said. “We would like to address the issue of visitation.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “We’re asking for unsupervised visits. The mother has never harmed her children and does not pose a risk to them. The real issue is the condition of the house, and since they are no longer living there, that issue no longer exists. She is staying in El Cajon with some friends whom the children knew well. The mother misses her children and would like to spend as much time as possible with them.” He sat down.

  “The Department is requesting supervised visits for the mother,” Deputy County Counsel Farris said. “There were drugs and drug paraphernalia found in the home.”

  “The mother submitted to a drug test the day her children were removed, and she was negative,” Bob said.

  “Only because the social worker arrived before she had a chance to use them,” Farris said.

  “Okay,” the judge said. “I’m ordering the mother to continue testing, and as long as she is clean, she can visit her children in their respective homes or at DSS. She does not need to have someone in the room with her, but she cannot take them out until further order of this court.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Bob said. He leaned over and explained to his client that that was the best they were going to get for now. She frowned.

  Mr. Wagner said, “My client, Sarah’s father, would like his daughter detained with him. He is a non-offending parent.”

  “Your Honor, the father, Russell Drake, is presently living in a halfway house,” Farris said. “He was recently released from San Diego County Jail and does not have appropriate housing for a child.”

  “He’s making plans to move in with his sister this weekend,” Wagner said. “We would like her home evaluated and discretion for the social worker to detain Sarah there with her father.”

  Sabre stood up. “Your Honor, I’m not comfortable with that. The last time we tried detaining Sarah with her father, he was arrested for possession of drugs.”

  Drake whispered to Wagner.

  “They weren’t his drugs, Your Honor.”

  “Of course not,” Judge Chino said in his usual flippant tone.

  “No,” Sabre said. “He claimed they were his sister’s.”

  “Same sister?” the judge asked.

  “He only has one,” Sabre said.

  “Does the sister have any history of drug use?”

  “Not that we’re aware of, Your Honor. The father ultimately took a plea on the drug possession charges and vindicated his sister. Sarah has not done well in previous foster home placements, so it would be good if she can be with family. However, I’m not sure Sarah’s aunt is strong enough to follow the rules when it comes to her brother.”

  “The sister’s home is to be evaluated,” the judge ordered. “Discretion to detain Sarah with the aunt, as long as the father isn’t living there, and with the concurrence of minor’s attorney. Supervised visitation for the father.”

  Bob stood up and followed his client out of the courtroom. He was talking to his client when Sabre came out.

  “Hey, bitch!” An angry, sandy-brown-haired man in his mid-forties yelled, as he stomped down the hallway toward Sabre.

  Chapter 5

  The Lynch Case

  Sabre watched the man as he approached. She didn’t recognize him and hoped he was looking at someone behind her, but she wasn’t comfortable turning around to check. He was glaring directly at her. Fear came over her at first, but it was replaced by determination not to be bullied. Bullies were one of her pet peeves. They were the worst kind of coward.

  “Are you talking to me?” Sabre asked.

  The man was only a few feet from her, with his arm extended and his finger pointing at her. “Yes, I’m talking to you, bitch,” he yelled.

  Just then Wagner exited the courtroom, and he and Bob simultaneously stepped between the man and Sabre. The buzz in the hallway had stopped. Everyone was staring and listening.

  “Calm down,” Bob said in a commanding voice.

  “I got this, guys,” Sabre said, but her voice couldn’t be heard over the yelling. Neither Bob nor Wagner moved.

  “Step back,” Wagner said to the man.

  “I want my damn kids back.” The man spat out the words with contempt.

  Jerry, the bailiff, flew out of Department Five and quickly assessed the situation. He looked at Bob and Wagner and motioned with his hand for them to step back. As they did, he stepped up to the man and stood face to face with him.

  “What’s going on?” Jerry asked.

  The man continued to yell. “My stupid wife was using drugs, and they took my boys from her. I haven’t done anything wrong, but she won’t give me my kids.” He pointed at Sabre when he said “she.”

  “You need to lower your voice and calm down, or we can go to the back and have this conversation.”

  “I’m madder than hell,” he said.

  “I can see that, but this isn’t how we’re going to do this.”

  Michael McCormick, the bailiff in Department Four, came out of his courtroom and stood behind the yelling man. Another bailiff came up the hallway and moved the crowd back a little, creating some open space between them and the situation.

  “You’d be ticked off, too, if they took your kids for no reason.” The man twisted back and forth,
balling up his fists. Suddenly, he clasped his hands together so tight his knuckles turned white. He held them in front of his face for a few seconds, almost as if he were praying, but his mouth tightened in a stubborn line.

  “Okay, let’s take this somewhere else. Turn around.”

  “Are you arresting me?” the man yelled.

  “Not yet, but I will if you don’t calm down right now.”

  Just then, Attorney Wes Hodges walked up. He was 6’4” and weighed about two hundred pounds. He was forty-five years old and worked out in the gym every day. When he was young, he was Mr. Oklahoma, and for a short time he had played for the Miami Dolphins.

  “Jerry,” Wes said to the bailiff, “this is my client. What’s going on?”

  “He’s out of control. You need to get him out of here, or I will.”

  Wes looked at his client and firmly, yet softly, said, “Todd, let’s go outside where we can talk.”

  Todd’s mouth tightened, and he shuffled his feet as if he weren’t sure what to do. Then he turned and walked out with Wes.

  “Who was that madman?” Bob asked.

  “I’ve never met him, but I think he’s the father on a case I got last week. Mom and Dad are divorced. She got custody of the three boys, and he gets visitation, but he lives in Los Angeles so he can’t see them as much as he’d like. Now that his ex is using drugs, he thinks he should have the kids.”

  “That makes sense. So what’s the issue?”

  “He has some serious anger issues.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “When he found out his kids had been taken to Polinsky, the first thing he did was call and threaten the social worker. I don’t blame him for being upset, but had he handled this with a little more concern for his boys, the Department probably would’ve given him the kids and never filed the case.”