Take Four

Home > Nonfiction > Take Four > Page 14
Take Four Page 14

by Karen Kingsbury


  “When’s the hearing?” His mom trembled as she asked the question.

  “Wednesday. Two days from now.” Cody’s voice sounded flat, unemotional. He still couldn’t believe this was happening, that his mother was about to be locked away for three or four years. Maybe longer.

  “You don’t think they’ll put me back in prison, do you? If I testify against Benny?” She sounded like a little girl, helpless and scared. “Promise me…Please. Don’t let them lock me up.”

  “Mom.” Cody stood and paced to the kitchen. From there he turned and looked straight at her. “You knew the terms of your parole. Another offense, and you’d go back to prison. There’s nothing I can do to stop it from happening. You’ll get a lighter sentence, maybe. But you’ll still serve time.”

  For a moment it looked like his mother might argue the fact. But then the reality seemed to come over her. The truth brought tears to her eyes, and the picture she made sitting there hurt Cody to the center of his heart. He wanted to run from here, jump in his car and go to Bailey’s house. Take her with him and drive until he couldn’t drive another mile. As if maybe then he could escape the reality of the upcoming hearing, and the danger of Benny Dirk, and all that would come with it.

  But there was no escape.

  Not then, and not two days later when he drove his mother to the county courthouse and took a seat beside her in the middle row. She’d been assigned free counsel, but so far they hadn’t met her lawyer. Cody could only hope he would show up before his mother’s case came up.

  “I’m scared,” she whispered in Cody’s ear. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  Cody wanted to say he couldn’t believe it either. Instead, he leaned close to her. “Pray, Mom. That’s what you need to do. Pray to Jesus.”

  He reminded himself to do the same thing as he watched the sad and broken dregs of humanity flow in and out of the courtroom. God…what will happen after this? How can I let her go off to Indianapolis? No one will care about her there. And what about Benny? They were the sorts of questions he hadn’t asked himself back when he was thirteen and she’d gone to prison. But now he was older. He had a responsibility to his mother, no matter what happened here today. He thought about Bailey, about the quick conversation they’d had earlier. He still hadn’t told her about his mother—because how could he? Especially when she had been full of such great news. All he could do was celebrate with her over the phone and hope he sounded sincere. Her big screen test was today—and if it went well she’d star opposite Brandon Paul in Unlocked. She was having the biggest day of her life.

  While he sat in a courtroom with his mother.

  The judge had a full docket, but he moved through each item quickly. After an hour he looked up and called her name. “Cassie Coleman. You’re present, I assume.”

  His mother stood. “Yes, your honor.”

  “And counsel?” Just as the judge asked, a heavy set man with an overstuffed briefcase burst into the room. The judge looked amazed at the man, as if this sort of unprofessional behavior would certainly not be tolerated. “Are you counsel for Ms. Cassie Coleman?”

  “I am, your honor. I just got the case an hour ago.”

  Wonderful, Cody thought to himself. She might as well not have an attorney. The guy couldn’t help her now, no matter how timely or talented he was. The evidence combined with his mother’s past record would weigh heavier than anything a lawyer could say. The man held up one finger. “Your honor, I’d like five minutes with my client, if you please.”

  The judge glared at the disheveled attorney. Then he looked at Cody’s mother, and his expression eased a little. “Very well.” He rapped his gavel on the desk in front of him. “We’ll take a five-minute recess and convene after that.” The judge hurried from his chair to his chambers behind the courtroom.

  Cody’s mom reached down and squeezed his hand. “Pray for me.”

  “I am.” Cody wished he could take her far from here and will away the past few months and every mistake his mother had made. But he couldn’t. He watched her walk timidly toward the attorney, whose nose was stuck in a file. The man seemed surprised by her presence, and he led her to a few chairs at the front of the courtroom. The place where defendants sat.

  Cody watched, praying for her, begging God for some way out. Save her, Lord. Please…I don’t know if either of us can take another prison sentence. And please help the police find Benny Dirk. Let us find a way out of this nightmare…please. We can’t do this without You. There was no answer, but Cody felt God’s presence. He wasn’t alone—that much was sure. Cody stared at the quiet meeting between his mom and the attorney. Five minutes. What could possibly be discussed in that little time?

  The recess flew by, and the judge reappeared with a flourish of his robes. He sat down and rapped his gavel again. “Court is in session. We’ll address the matter of the state of Indiana versus Cassie Coleman.” He gave an exaggerated look at the still breathless attorney. “Is counsel ready?”

  A nervous look passed over the man’s face. He gave Cody’s mom an awkward lopsided smile and then nodded at the judge. “Yes, your honor. We’re ready.”

  Cody hadn’t watched a proceeding like this before, but he was sure of one thing: If it hadn’t been for the Flanigan family, if God hadn’t reached in and saved him from alcoholism back when Cody was a senior in high school, this would’ve been a familiar scene in his own life. Because he certainly would’ve wound up on drugs and in and out of prison, just like his mother. He was headed that way when he nearly died—when God spared his life.

  Thinking of the Flanigans made him think of Bailey. If his mother had handled things differently, today he’d be making plans to celebrate with her. He could feel her in his arms, see her eyes the way they felt when they were lost in his. How long until it would be safe to spend time with her? He hurt at the thought, and he forced himself not to think about her.

  The judge read from a piece of paper stating the evidence against Cody’s mom. “Ms. Coleman you’re on parole for dealing drugs, are you aware of that?”

  His mom looked at her attorney, but the man was lost in his file again. She nodded. “Yes, your honor.”

  “And you’re aware that another offense brings with it a man datory five years in state prison and a maximum sentence of twenty years?”

  This time his mom looked like she might pass out. “Yes, your honor.” Her voice was weak, her face pale.

  Cody pushed himself to the edge of his seat, ready to spring into action if she fainted. Mom, hang in there…God, please save her. Help us.

  The judge scanned the evidence. “I’d like to state for the record that Ms. Coleman was arrested by police Sunday night as part of a drug bust involving a major drug dealer—Benny Dirk.” He looked further down the piece of paper. “It looks like police confiscated seven ounces of cocaine from Ms. Coleman’s car and nearly half a pound of marijuana.”

  Cody closed his eyes and hung his head. It was over. He had no idea the police had found those amounts. A trace of drugs, a small baggie—that was one thing. But seven ounces of coke? Half a pound of marijuana? The judge would lock his mother up and throw away the key. He could already feel the sentence coming.

  “I also understand you’re willing to testify against Mr. Dirk—who remains at large. But at this time, I can only go with the evidence.” He paused, his brow raised. “By the authority of the previous parole agreement, Ms. Coleman, I’m afraid I have to mandate you to five years in state prison. This could possibly be adjusted by a year or so if you actually turn state’s evidence against Mr. Dirk. But that would require his arrest, obviously.”

  Five years? Cody felt like he’d been sucker-punched. Five years until his mother would be out? He’d be pushing thirty by then. The news was worse than he had ever imagined. He was still trying to get his mind around their new reality when his mother’s attorney stood.

  “Your honor,” his mother’s lawyer raised his hand. “I’d like to add that Ms
. Coleman had gone nearly three years without an incident prior to this.” He had a piece of paper in his hand. “If the court pleases, I’d like to present a hospital chart for the record.”

  “What’s the point of this, counsel?” The judge looked bothered again. He had other cases ahead, more people to lock up. Clearly he didn’t like the delay.

  “The point is, this woman was making a serious attempt at living a normal, law-abiding, contributing lifestyle. The problem, as you’ll see here,” he handed the piece of paper over, “is that Ms. Coleman is a drug addict. She needs help, not a prison sentence. Certainly, your honor, five years is a very aggressive punishment for this defendant given her history.”

  Cody held his breath. This was more than he had expected from the man. Please, God…be with us.

  The judge took the paper and studied it for less than a minute. “You make a good point, counsel.” He looked surprised anything good could come from the attorney. “It’s within my power to lessen the sentence for Ms. Coleman based on her past three years and her ongoing battle with drug addiction. That said, it is still very important to keep in mind what’s at stake here.” He looked at Cody’s mom. “Ms. Coleman, if you had merely been caught using drugs, I might allow a different outcome. But as it stands, you not only returned to using but to dealing. This court will not tolerate dealing from any citizen, at any time. Do you understand that, Ms. Coleman?”

  “Yes.” His mom was visibly shaking, barely able to speak. “Yes, your honor, I do.”

  “Very well, then.” He took a long breath and looked from the lawyer back to Cody’s mother again. “This court will allow a reduced sentence of four years and I will reserve the right to reduce that further based on future testimony against Mr. Dirk. As previously stated. until that time, the defendant will serve her punishment at the Indiana Women’s Prison. The defendant is to be remanded into custody immediately…”

  Four years…Cody could breathe again—even if it took effort. With a simple argument, the judge had shaved off a year, so maybe he’d cut her remaining sentence in half if she testified. Of course, by doing so his mother would remain in danger—maybe for the rest of her life. The possibility was daunting, more than Cody could think about.

  He closed his eyes and suddenly he was in the cage again, a prisoner of war in the middle of Iraq, and a militant soldier was blindfolding him and spinning him around, jabbing the butt of a gun into his stomach. And his captor was shouting something Cody couldn’t understand. He gasped and opened his eyes, and the scene from Iraq disappeared. What was happening to him? Why the flashbacks now, when he’d been home for two years?

  He grabbed the back of the bench in front of him and steadied himself. The judge was going on. “Ms. Coleman, while at Indiana Women’s Prison you will be assigned work duty in the laundry facility. I’m also making a note that you should receive ongoing drug counseling while in residence at the prison. Perhaps when you are released next time you’ll be more successful at life on the outside.” He rapped his gavel. “The court will take a fifteen-minute recess.”

  Cody watched the judge leave, as if the woman standing before him were no one special, just another lowdown drug dealer headed back to prison. The people in the audience stood and talked in quiet tones to their attorneys or family members. Cody couldn’t hear any of it. The only voice he could hear was the pitiful whimpering coming from his mother. “Cody…”

  His eyes met hers, and she shook her head in small frantic movements. Her face was grayish white, and again she looked ready to faint again. “Cody…help me.” Her voice wasn’t so much audible as it was a quiet muttering. But he could read her lips, and he knew deep in his heart every word she was saying. “Please, Cody…don’t let them take me. Please…”

  He had no idea what to do. It was one thing to fight a war and survive capture by a foreign army. But this? How was he supposed to handle this? Was he supposed to ask for a second chance or tell the attorney to push for a still shorter sentence? He clenched his jaw and released the hold he had on the bench. He reached her just as the bailiff was approaching with handcuffs.

  “Don’t we…don’t we get some time?”

  The bailiff gave him a puzzled look, but after a few seconds a slight bit of pity filled the guy’s eyes. “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “Yeah, but…” Cody looked at his mother’s attorney. “We need time. I have to tell her goodbye.”

  “The sentence is already in effect.” The attorney held his worn briefcase at his side. “I’m sorry. I did the best I could.”

  Cody thanked the man, but he didn’t want to talk to the attorney. These were his final moments with his mom. She was shivering harder now, and Cody wished he would’ve brought her a coat or a sweater—something to put over her shoulders, so she didn’t have to go away so freezing cold.

  The lawyer left without another word, and now just Cody and the bailiff remained with her. “Couldn’t I bring her back tomorrow? After we pack her things?”

  “She violated parole.” The bailiff seemed confused. “You should’ve known she be sent away today.”

  “It’s o-o-okay, Cody.” His mother was no longer crying out for help, begging Cody to save her from being hauled away. Like the bailiff said, her sentence was already in effect. In a few hours, she’d be signed in at the women’s prison, issued her orange jumpsuit, and given a bunk like the other inmates.

  There was nothing Cody could do about it. “Mom…” The bailiff handcuffed her while people in the courtroom watched. Cody felt his heart breaking, felt his lungs bursting from the sadness of it. He wanted to scream at everyone in the room to look away. This was his mother. She deserved some respect, after all. But instead he only reached out and put his hand on her shoulder.

  “I need to take her.” The bailiff clearly had a job to do. He shook his head, indicating Cody didn’t have the right to touch his prisoner or stop him in any way.

  Cody withdrew his hand. “I’ll bring you your things. I’ll come see you, Mom. I will.”

  “I’m sorry.” She started crying, quietly but with an intensity that shook her soul. “I’m so sorry, Cody…you don’t de-de-de-serve this.” Alarm filled her eyes. “And watch out for Benny…please, Cody…stay away from him.”

  “I will.”

  The bailiff began to lead her from the room. “We have to go.”

  “Mom…pray.” This time he spoke louder than before. “Pray to Jesus!” He didn’t care who was listening or what sort of scene they were making. If this was his last time to talk to his mother before they locked her away, he had to tell her the only thing that mattered.

  She craned her neck, using every bit of strength to look over her shoulder one last time at him. She didn’t cry out or scream or weep or say any actual words. But she did the only thing that mattered in light of what he’d asked her to do.

  She nodded.

  Twelve

  BAILEY WAS QUIET ON THE WAY to the screen test, even though her nerves were rattling wildly inside her. She wanted to be thrilled about the audition, thanking God for the opportunity. But her mind was preoccupied by something that had been troubling her since Sunday. What in the world was wrong with Cody?

  “You okay?” Her mom was driving. Again Bailey was grateful her mom had time like this, time to take her to the audition and stay by her side making sure Bailey had a confidante if she needed one.

  “I’m fine.” She looked out the window at the maple trees that lined Main Street. “Just thinking about Cody.”

  “You still haven’t heard from him?”

  “We talked for a few minutes today.” Bailey turned toward her mother. “I told him about the audition.” She paused. “He seemed happy for me, I guess. He said he was tired, something about getting off the phone so he could study for a test tomorrow.”

  “Well,” Her mom’s expression said she didn’t feel Cody’s explanation was far-fetched. “He’s taking a full load of classes. Maybe the test had him distracted.”
<
br />   “Maybe.” Bailey leaned her head back against the seat. “But I know him better than that. He isn’t himself. Something’s wrong.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll talk to you about it later.” Her mom patted her knee. “He wouldn’t want you worrying about it now. Right?”

  “Right.” Bailey was quiet again. Maybe that was it…maybe Cody was worried about her audition, thinking she was going to get the part and fall for Brandon Paul. He’d done this before…thinking she deserved someone better, a different life, a different sort of guy than him. She pictured the way he’d looked sitting on the porch with her Sunday night before the call from his mother. The depth and love in his eyes. No, it wasn’t possible. He wasn’t going to walk away again. Not after all they’d found together this past summer. They pulled into the parking lot and Bailey let her worries about Cody go. “Pray for me, will you?”

  Her mom took her hand and spoke a brief but powerful prayer, asking the Lord to shine through Bailey and make this performance her best ever. They left the car, and as they neared the front door Bailey reminded herself what was happening. She was about to do a screen test with Brandon Paul! She could feel a smile light up her face, and she turned dancing eyes at her mom. “Can you believe this?”

  Her mom’s eyes lit up and she did a stationary little dance while Bailey opened the front door. Once inside it was only a minute before Keith Ellison entered from the other room and welcomed them. He explained that the screen test would last about an hour, and that Bailey’s mom was welcome to stay—same as before. Then he ushered them in.

  Bailey exhaled in small, short bursts, forcing herself to stay in the moment and not drop from disbelief. She was about to meet Brandon Paul. The Brandon Paul. She steadied herself and walked behind Mr. Ellison, and suddenly there he was—America’s favorite new actor—the star of NTM’s hottest teen series.

 

‹ Prev