by Sharon Sala
“Oh son of a holy bitch,” he moaned and staggered back down the road to his car. He crawled back down the ditch to get in and then had to back the clown car nearly a quarter of a mile in the ditch before he found a place shallow enough to drive the tiny car out. Once he was back on the blacktop, he turned around and drove back into town. The only place he could think to go was back to the hospital before it was too late. His eyes were swelling shut.
Chapter 23
Butterman had been on the phone for almost thirty minutes with Dori, trying to reassure her. He felt certain Frankie Ricks was not only going to get his case thrown out of court, but that he was going to jail for rape. But until it happened, Dori was scared, and he understood that.
“Listen, honey, just meet me at the courthouse. Stuff has been developing since that video was uploaded to YouTube. It’s going to be okay. You have to trust me on this. This is what I do best, understand?”
Dori sighed. “Yes. I’ll see you there. Room 202.”
“Right, and don’t be late. Judge Beecham doesn’t tolerate tardiness.”
“I won’t be late,” Dori said.
She hung up the phone and put her head in her hands. Luther was asleep and the house was so quiet, she could hear a faucet dripping in the bathroom down the hall.
Johnny had stayed home from work to go to court with her, so he took the boys to school, but she’d expected him home an hour ago. When her phone rang, she assumed it would be him. It was Lovey.
“Hi, honey. It’s me. I know your hearing is this morning. Do you need a babysitter? I can come to your house and stay with Luther until you guys get back. It would make everything easier on the baby and on you.”
“Oh, Lovey, how am I ever going to pay you back for what you’ve done? Yes, it would be helpful, and I accept. We have to be there by ten, so if you could get here no later than nine thirty, that would be great.”
“I’ll see you soon,” Lovey said.
Dori hung up and then looked at the clock. It was a quarter to nine. Where on earth was Johnny?
When he finally walked in the front door, he had an armful of bags. She’d just given him several hundred dollars to pad the family budget and couldn’t believe he’d been shopping. He gave one bag to her and kept the other one for himself.
She stood up. “What’s this?”
“It’s something for you to wear to court. You have one dress. You’ve worn it to a funeral and to a wedding. I didn’t think it was proper to wear it to a hanging.”
Dori burst out laughing and threw her arms around his neck.
“Just when I think the world is crashing down on me, you always manage to rescue me in the nick of time. I love you, Johnny Pine.”
“I loved you first,” he said and then glanced at the clock.
“So, let’s try this stuff on and see what, if anything, needs fixing.”
They went back to their bedroom and dumped the contents of the sacks out on the bed.
Johnny had a dark blue Western-style shirt with white pearl snaps all the way down the front to wear with a pair of jeans. It wasn’t fancy, but it was nice, and he wanted her to be proud of the way he looked. He began taking off tags and pulling out pins.
Dori picked up the dress that had been in her sack and held it up to her body.
“Oh, Johnny,” Dori said. “This dress is gorgeous.”
He grinned. “The Unique Boutique lady said it would look good on you.”
“Honey, this dress would look good on anyone.”
She took off her jeans and shirt, and stepped into it, then pulled it up over her shoulders. Johnny stood behind her to zip it up and then turned her around to the full-length mirror.
“What do you think?” he asked.
The dress was a floral print in pastel pink, green, and yellow. It had a scoop neck and cap sleeves, a built-in bra, a fitted bodice, and a handkerchief hem, which gave the dress a dash of flash and a hint of sexy.
“I think it’s beautiful. I think you are the most thoughtful husband in the world to even consider this.”
Johnny leaned down to give her a quick kiss, but then she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him until his ears were ringing. It took a few seconds more for him to realize it was his phone.
“Hang on,” he said and answered quickly. “Hello? Who?” Almost instantly, the smile disappeared. “Are you kidding me?”
Dori could tell by the look on his face, he was shocked.
“Yes, I guess I’ll accept,” he said and then turned around. He was looking straight at Dori when he answered. “Yeah, it’s me, Dad. What’s going on?”
Dori’s eyes widened with surprise. She started to walk out of the room to give him privacy when he caught her wrist and pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around his waist and listened to the hurt in his voice and wished she could make it go away.
“Oh, right, you saw the story in the paper. Yes, she’s beautiful, and, yes, I love her very much. Yeah, the boys have grown.”
Then he was listening and when the tears started rolling down his cheeks, she held him tighter.
“Yes, I’m glad you called, and thanks. I’ll tell her. Yes, good-bye.”
He hung up, tossed the phone on the bed, and wrapped both arms around her. He didn’t move. He didn’t speak, but she could feel his heartbeat and knew the call had moved him.
Finally, he began to talk. “He said to tell you that you sure are pretty and that he hopes we have a very happy life.”
“Are you okay?”
He sighed. “I’m fine. It just took me by surprise. He said he was proud of the man I had become.”
“Oh, Johnny, that’s wonderful, right?”
He shrugged, but she could tell he was proud.
“When was the last time you talked to him?”
“About six years ago. Beep was a baby, Marshall was four, and I was fourteen. It doesn’t matter. He’s never getting out, and I’m not letting my brothers grow up thinking its normal to visit family in prison. Now, let’s get the tags off of this pretty dress and get cracking. We’ve got to be at the courthouse soon.”
“It starts at ten. Butterman said don’t be late, and Lovey is coming here at nine thirty to stay with the baby.”
“That’s great. Someday, we’re going to have to have a great big party and invite all of the people who have helped us through this mess.” Then he glanced at the clock. “We have just under fifteen minutes. You can have the bathroom first. I’m going to toss this shirt into the dryer a few minutes to take out the wrinkles.”
And just like that, the shock of the phone call had passed.
Lovey arrived promptly at nine thirty. She got a quick run-through of where bottles were kept and was told everything else she would need was in his room.
“Please help yourself to anything you would like to drink,” Dori said. “We have iced tea, Pepsi, and you can always make coffee, if you’d prefer. The coffee is in the apple canister on the cabinet.”
“I’ll be fine,” Lovey said. “And may I say, you look beautiful.”
Dori smiled. “Johnny picked this out for me.”
“Did I hear my name mentioned?” Johnny said as he strode into the room.
“If I could whistle, I would,” Lovey added. “You look downright handsome, young man.”
“Can’t embarrass this pretty woman,” he said. “Honey, we need to leave. Are you ready?”
Dori picked up her purse.
“Let’s get this over with. I want our life back,” she said.
* * *
Frankie spent the night in the hospital. He had finally found a place to sleep that couldn’t turn him away. They’d pumped him full of IV meds trying to dry up the rash and managed to get medicine on his eyes before they swelled all the way shut. He’d called Guidry and asked him to pick him up at
the hospital entrance and said he’d explain when he arrived.
When Guidry pulled up to the entrance, he was not expecting the man who came out. In fact, he wouldn’t have recognized Ricks at all except for that long, stringy-haired, Johnny Depp hairstyle he favored. Ricks was walking spraddle-legged, like he’d gotten off of a horse without knowing how to straighten out his legs. His face was so swollen it didn’t look human. The rash on his face had turned into large, seeping red patches from all the scratching he’d done. His eyes were mere slits, and his hands were in bandages, partly because they were swollen and cracking, and partly to keep him from clawing himself to the bone.
Guidry got out and opened the back door.
“What the hell happened to you?” he asked.
“Poison ivy. It’s a long, ugly story. Just get me to the courthouse. You’ve got to make the judge believe that me and the bitch had a relationship going, or I’m going to jail for rape.”
“For starters, it would help if you did not refer to her as ‘the bitch.’ It would also be beneficial had you not assumed she would never recognize you. Now get in. We don’t have much time.”
“Why am I getting in the back?” Frankie asked.
“Can you get in the front?”
Frankie glanced at the small seat, thought about trying to curl himself up to fit, and groaned. “Probably not. Fine. Just give me a second.”
Frankie swung one leg into the car and then scooted sideways, groaning and moaning with every move until he was inside.
Guidry slammed the door, got back in the driver’s seat, and headed for the courthouse. It was nine thirty—thirty minutes before the hearing began.
* * *
Room 202 was packed. The only empty seats were down front, where the lawyers and their clients were to be seated. Ruby Dye had gotten there early, looking sharp as a tack in a light blue pantsuit with her soft blond curls styled in a simplified version of the Shirley Temple look, and she’d brought herself a pretty little folding fan to use if the air-conditioning could not keep up with cooling off the mass of humanity inside the room.
She was sitting right behind the table where Peanut and Dori would sit, and she had saved Johnny a seat beside her so he’d be as close to Dori as he could get.
When the doors opened, everyone turned. When they saw Peanut Butterman leading the way and Dori and Johnny right behind him, there was an audible sigh, then soft whispers.
Dori didn’t know how to feel but embarrassed was a good part of it. How totally white trash that she was in court with her husband, fighting a man she didn’t know for custody of their child. Miss Jane’s soap operas had nothing on her life.
“Johnny! Here!” Ruby hissed and scooted over so that he could squeeze in.
“Thanks, Ruby,” Johnny said as he squeezed into the seat. He nodded to the man beside him and then watched Dori take a seat beside their lawyer. When she glanced back, he winked, and she almost smiled. He knew she was scared. He wasn’t about to let on how scared he was for her. He glanced around the courtroom and saw nothing but friendly faces. It wouldn’t help the judge’s decisions, but it made him feel better.
Peanut saw the panic in Dori’s eyes. He patted her hand and leaned closer, using his church-whisper voice for the conversation. “You look beautiful, my dear. Meeker would be very proud, but I want to get down to business. You may not be called upon to speak. All of this is to determine if there is anything to merit a trial, which means the opposing council has to have enough proof to make their case.”
“I understand that,” she whispered. “But we’re no better off than they are. You said that yourself.”
Peanut winked. “That was before you took a cane to the man and called him out in front of God and everybody. To date, five other girls have come forth claiming he doped and raped them too. Two have even admitted to having abortions afterward. I have copies of their depositions. Not only is this going to kill his claim that he did not rape you, but it is going to send him up the river for a very long time.”
Dori jumped like someone had poked her with a prod. “Sweet Lord, are you serious?”
“Yes, ma’am, I sure am.”
She turned around, intent on telling Johnny what he’d said, and then the door opened again. This time, opposing council and his client walked in, although it could have been better stated that opposing council was the only one walking. His client was waddling like a baby with a loaded diaper, and he looked like pure hell.
“What on earth?” Peanut mumbled.
Johnny’s eyes widened in shock, and then he saw Bo and Billy Weaver grinning and giving him a thumbs-up. He didn’t know what they’d done, but he owed them, big-time.
Guidry nodded at Butterman and then pointed to the chair where Frankie would sit.
The room was awash in whispers and supposition, but the conversations didn’t last long. All of a sudden, they were ordered to rise, and as they did, they witnessed Judge Beecham’s entrance.
Frankie itched so bad, it hurt. He’d just gotten comfortable, and now he had to move again. By the time he stood up, the judge was seated and glaring at him. The proceedings started with Beecham chastising Guidry for his client’s faux pas.
“I’m sorry, Your Honor, but as you can see, my client is seriously indisposed.”
Beecham waved a hand and the hearing began.
Guidry explained his client’s reasons for being there and went into great detail about how devastated Mr. Ricks had been to learn that the girl he’d had a relationship with some months earlier had gotten pregnant and given birth to their child without informing him of the fact. He stated that Mr. Ricks was asking for joint custody of the infant named Luther Joe Grant and sufficient monetary recompense to care for him.
Dori was angry all over again just listening to the lies. Then it was Peanut’s turn to speak, and he went straight for the heart with his first shot.
“Your Honor, we reject every word of that claim and are instead claiming that the fact of my client’s prior pregnancy was nothing but the result of a brutal act of rape after slipping a drug into her drink at a school function. Furthermore, we have affidavits from five other young women, from as far away as Savannah, who have recently come forward with similar claims against this same man, Frankie Ricks. Two of the five women also testified in their affidavits that they, too, became pregnant after the rape and terminated the pregnancies.”
Guidry’s face turned red as he stood up.
Beecham pointed at him. “Sit down. You presented your evidence. He is presenting his.”
Guidry looked at Frankie in disbelief and then leaned over and whispered in his ear. “I asked you if there was anything else I needed to know. I asked you if—”
Frankie put his head down on the table and moaned as Butterman was giving an officer of the court copies of the affidavits for the judge.
Frankie moaned again and then straightened up in his chair and started to cry.
Judge Beecham glared at Guidry’s table as he took the copies.
“Counsel, please tell your client I will have none of that in my courtroom and to pull himself together.”
Guidry hissed a warning in Frankie’s ear.
Frankie groaned but did as he’d been told.
Beecham asked if a DNA test had been done on the infant in question.
Guidry quickly stated that was on the agenda.
Beecham rolled his eyes and chided Guidry for being unprepared, then he looked at Dori. Her hands were balled up into fists and she was shaking so hard, he thought she was going to faint.
“Butterman, is your client ill?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Peanut said.
Beecham frowned. “She appears most distraught.”
“Oh no, sir. She’s not ill. She’s mad. She’s about as angry as I’ve ever seen a woman get.”
Beecham
blinked. Like everyone else, he’d seen the YouTube video, but seeing this much rage up close made the accusation of rape almost palpable.
“Dori Pine.”
Dori took a deep breath and looked him straight in the face.
“Yes, Your Honor?”
“Are you indeed angry and not ill in any way?”
“I am not ill. I am not fragile. I am not having a nervous breakdown. I do, however, wish that man a one-way ticket to hell…Your Honor.”
The people broke out in laughter.
Judge Beecham pounded his hammer on the bench.
“Quiet! Order in the court! One more outburst, and I’ll clear the courtroom!” he shouted.
A hush descended. No one wanted to miss what happened next.
Frankie was shaking just as hard as Dori, but for an entirely different reason. His skin was crawling, burning, itching. He was going out of his mind in the tight, binding clothes, and the misery he was in. He just wanted all of this over. It was the fleas. It was the poison ivy. It was Dori Pine.
He jumped to his feet.
“I can’t take it any longer! Damn it to hell, I don’t care! I gotta scratch. I gotta scratch. Put me in jail. I don’t care.”
Beecham was pounding the gavel again.
“Guidry, get your client under control now or this hearing is over.”
Guidry grabbed at Frankie’s arm, but he tore it away, screaming.
“I quit! I quit! I’m dropping the lawsuit. I don’t want anything but out of here.”
Beecham pounded the gavel once more.
“This hearing is dismissed,” he said, then looked toward the back of the room and nodded at the two police officers standing at the door before he got up and left the bench without waiting for the formalities.
Frankie was stumbling up the aisle toward the door, yanking at his tie and unbuttoning his shirt when two police officers arrested him for rape and yanked his hands behind his back. Before he knew it, he was cuffed. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t loosen his clothing. He couldn’t even scratch. It was his worst nightmare come to life.
