Keep Me in Your Heart

by Lurlene McDaniel

  “You could come stay with me,” Jake said. “Just until this is over.”

  “With you?”

  “I live alone near the college with a sleeper sofa you can take over. Just me and an old tomcat. Are you allergic?”

  Jeremy heard the teasing tone in Jake’s voice and realized that Jake must know how difficult this was for him. “I’ll get another job,” he said. “I’ll help with the groceries.”

  “Darn right you will,” Jake said with a laugh.

  “When?”

  “My guess is the sooner the better,” Jake said. “How about this weekend?”

  To his surprise, his parents didn’t object to his moving. Obviously they too thought it best. “The furniture stays,” his father said as Jeremy packed his clothes and some framed photographs. “And the computer.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t take anything of yours,” Jeremy tossed back sarcastically.

  His mother remained dry-eyed, watching without speaking as he vacated the premises. She looked pale and bewildered, as if she couldn’t comprehend how things had gotten to the point of her family’s dissolving and falling apart in front of her.

  He wanted to hug her goodbye and tell her he loved her, but it wasn’t possible. They stood at the top of the stairs looking at each other as if a chasm had split the floor. Neither could bridge it. “Goodbye, Mom,” he said.

  She said nothing.

  Jeremy drove out of Reston and into Georgetown, to a quaint area near the university where row after row of brown-stone apartment buildings housed students and, occasionally, professors. Jake’s place looked like all the others, reddish brown brick trimmed with colonial blue shutters. Jake told him where to park and helped him carry his stuff into the ground-level apartment.

  “I really did clean the place up,” Jake said, hanging some of Jeremy’s clothes in the hall closet.

  Jeremy set down a box he was carrying and glanced around the place he was to call home until—until when? He sighed. He didn’t know how long he’d be in exile.

  Jake’s place had oak floors and a worn oriental carpet. Fancy electronic equipment lined one wall, and a sofa sat in the middle of the floor, facing the TV. “Your bed,” Jake said, fluffing a sofa cushion.

  “Thanks.” A window air conditioner hummed, struggling against the gathering summer heat.

  “Anything you see in the fridge is yours. Except the cat food.” Jake grinned.

  The cat sauntered into the room and stood still, staring at Jeremy and twitching his tail.

  “This is Corpus Delicti, which is legal lingo for physical proof that a crime’s been committed. And believe me, that cat’s life is crime.”

  Jeremy knew Jake was trying to make him feel welcome, but at the moment he felt overwhelmed. He’d just moved out of his home. He was living with a stranger and his life seemed like a tangled mess. All because he’d tried to help someone he loved.

  “I got a job at a car wash,” he told Jake. “Hourly wage plus tips. I’ll give you what I can every week.”

  “Hey, don’t sweat it.” Jake squeezed Jeremy’s shoulder. “Fran’s coming over tonight for a strategy session.”

  “Aren’t you going to plead this on constitutional grounds?”

  “Not in juvie court. Only federal courts rule on constitutional issues. But I’m hoping it doesn’t go that route. I’m hoping we can get our way at this level.”

  Jeremy hoped so too. He wanted his life back. Guiltily he remembered Jessica. She wanted her life back too, but without him she wouldn’t get it.

  Fran came over that night, and together she and Jake pored over the law books and scribbled notes. “Professor Parker said your father came to see him and tried to force him to bow out of this,” she said.

  “My dad did that?” Jeremy felt angry at his father all over again.

  “I’m sure he’s had us checked out too,” Jake added.

  Fran nodded. “Professor Parker told him that you were entitled to legal recourse just like anyone else.” She chuckled. “Nobody backs Judson Parker down.”

  Jeremy was grateful that the professor could stand up to his father. He only hoped the judge who heard their case would too. He began to plan what he wanted to say to the judge, how he would convince him that he was an adult.

  When the court date arrived two weeks later, he knew he was ready to face the judge. And his father.

  Chapter

  14

  Juvenile court teemed with activity. Jeremy wore a suit and tie and felt like an absolute geek. Every kid sitting in the halls and courtrooms wore casual summer clothes, and they all appraised him with sneers. “Some of these kids are children,” he said to Jake as they walked down the hall. Many didn’t look to be more than twelve years old.

  “Some of these children are seasoned felons,” Jake countered.

  “Don’t let their youthful faces fool you,” Fran added. “They all know that they won’t be tried as adults so long as they’re ‘just kids,’ and some have rap sheets as long as your arm.”

  At the end of the hall, they took an elevator up. “We’ll be heard in Judge Monsanto’s chambers,” Fran said.

  Jeremy was relieved. At least they wouldn’t be discussing their case in front of a busy courtroom full of strangers. “I’m looking for Jessica’s parents,” he said. “I thought they might be here.”

  “We told them not to show,” Fran explained. “This is a closed hearing, so there’s nothing they can do but wait outside. Plus, it’s best if they keep a very low profile. We need the judge to be swayed to our side solely on the merits of the central issue: Why should your age be a factor in your desire to donate your kidney?”

  They stepped into Judge Monsanto’s reception area. Jeremy’s father and his attorney were already waiting. Jeremy avoided their gazes. A woman came forward. “I’m the judge’s secretary. He’ll call you in momentarily. Would you like anything—coffee, a soda?”

  They declined. Jeremy sat on the edge of a chair and stared at the floor, but from the corner of his eye he sized up the competition. Like his father, his father’s lawyer looked polished and self-assured, wearing an impeccably tailored suit and custom-made leather shoes. His father had spared no expense in securing legal counsel. Next to the two of them Jake and Fran looked dowdy, resembling a ragtag army of dissidents with sticks facing generals who commanded a battalion of high-tech war machines. Jeremy shivered as a premonition shot through him. We’re going to lose!

  He was startled when the judge’s secretary invited them into his chambers. In the judge’s office were floor-to-ceiling bookcases, a large, heavy desk of dark wood and a conference table, and Judge Monsanto, a heavyset African American man with a bald head and black-rimmed glasses. In a deep, firm voice he said, “Please sit,” and pointed to the table.

  Each side sat opposite the other, and the judge took a seat at the head of the table. A pile of files lay in front of him. “I’ve reviewed your petitions carefully,” he said, getting right to the point. He turned to Jeremy. “What you want to do is an amazing sacrifice, young man.”

  Jeremy was glad he was sitting because his knees felt shaky. “It’s not really a sacrifice to me, sir.” Jake had directed him to respond respectfully. Not that he wouldn’t have anyway. That was the way he’d been raised.

  “And I can certainly understand why your parents object. Goodness, I have trouble enough parting with a bad tooth in the dentist’s chair, and you want to go through a complicated surgery to have your kidney removed.”

  Jeremy hadn’t expected the judge to be so informal. He relaxed slightly.

  “Still,” the judge continued, “I’ve read the reports submitted by the hospital concerning your tests. You appear to be a prime donor candidate for this young woman. And your psychological evaluation was especially favorable.”

  “I tried to be honest,” Jeremy offered hopefully.

  The judge smiled kindly. “And your IQ is amazing. All in all, I’d say you’re a remarkable kid with both feet o
n the ground.” He shuffled through some papers. “I don’t get many through my courts like you, Jeremy.”

  Jeremy nodded politely.

  “Most of the sixteen-year-olds I get are pretty hardened. They know the system inside and out, and they know how to beat it. Tough kids.” He shook his head.

  Jeremy wondered if he’d missed some information along the way. The judge appeared to be rambling. Yet, he resisted the urge to hurry the man up.

  “I want to ask you something.” The judge looked straight at him. “I want you to answer honestly.” He paused. “Have your parents ever mistreated you?”

  Jeremy saw his father tense, but neither he nor his attorney spoke. “No, sir,” Jeremy said.

  “How would you say they’ve treated you?”

  “They’ve treated me fine.”

  “Clothes, food … plenty of that kind of stuff?”

  “Yes.” Although things had been different around the house since Tom’s death, his parents had never stopped attending to his needs.

  “Discipline? You know, have they taught you right from wrong and made you toe the line when you disobeyed?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “But they never battered you or anything if you stepped out of line.”

  “No, sir.”

  “I wish all the kids who came before me could say that about their home life.” He shrugged. “If that were the case, why, I’d be out of a job!” He flashed a toothy smile. “Except for the hard-core types. I mean, there are some kids who are born mean and no amount of good parenting can fix them.”

  Jeremy was thoroughly confused. He’d expected the judge to ask him about Jessica and his reasons for wanting to give her his kidney. Instead, he was going on and on about things that didn’t make any sense. “I suppose,” Jeremy said.

  “But you’ve got good parents, isn’t that right?”

  “Yes.”

  The judge leaned forward. “You have a car?”

  “Yes, but—”

  The judge cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Lucky you. A lot of the boys I see in my court steal cars.” He chuckled. “And since you’re such a smart young man …” He flipped through some papers. “It says here you skipped a year in school and make excellent grades. Would you say your parents would send you to any college you wanted?”

  “Probably. If I met the entrance requirements.” Jeremy was starting to feel angry. Why was the judge meandering so much? Why didn’t he get to the real reason they were all there?

  “So, Jeremy, let me see if I understand. What you’re asking is that you be emancipated, set free, from loving, caring parents who have nurtured you, taken care of you, housed, schooled and fed you with love and devotion all your life.”

  Jeremy felt color rising in his face. “That’s not the point.” He looked at Jake, who had opened his mouth to speak.

  The judge stopped the young law student with a look. “I’m still talking.” He turned back to Jeremy. “As far as I’m concerned, that is the point. According to the law, the criterion for granting emancipation is the best interests of the child.”

  “I’m not a child!” Jeremy exclaimed before he could stop himself.

  The judge reared back and pointed at Jeremy. “You are in the eyes of Virginia law, son. You’re a minor under your parents’ domain, and I see no reason to alter that situation.”

  Angrily Jeremy stood. “That’s not fair! You’re not thinking about Jessica.”

  The judge ignored his outburst. “I’ve read the hospital reports about the young woman in question. I’ve talked to her doctor. She too is under excellent care. And her situation is not critical.”

  “But—”

  “I will not grant your petition,” the judge said, closing his file folder.

  Jeremy spun, furious and not sure what he might say to the judge. He heard the others standing up behind him, and as he moved to the door he saw his father coming toward him. If he thinks we’re going to kiss and make up, he’s crazy! Jeremy thought. He jerked open the door and yelled, “I’ll see you back at your place, Jake.”

  He stormed out of the reception area, past the startled secretary, and ran down the hall toward the courthouse entrance. He had lost! He’d never even had a chance to say all the things he’d wanted to say. He had lost the most important battle of his life. Of Jessica’s life.

  And his father had won. He had won without saying a single word.

  “We’ll appeal,” Jake said the minute he and Fran walked into the apartment.

  “We’ll file a de novo appeal, which means it’s as if the decision never happened,” Fran added. “And this time we’ll go through a higher court.”

  “Don’t you get it?” Jeremy stopped his restless pacing. His stomach was in knots and his skin felt as if it were on fire. “Jessica hasn’t got any time!”

  “Jeremy, this isn’t the end of the world.” Jake tried to soothe him. The phone rang and he said to Fran, “Get that, would you?”

  “It’s probably my father,” Jeremy muttered as Fran crossed the room. “Probably calling to rub it in and tell me all’s forgiven and I can come home now.”

  “I know you’re upset,” Jake said, “but this isn’t over. It’s a setback, but we still have several options. I’ll file a writ of habeas corpus. And this time we’ll go through the federal courts. We should have gone to the federal level from the start the way you wanted. Your idea to try this on constitutional grounds was a brilliant—”

  He was interrupted by Fran, who had hung up the phone and moved to Jeremy’s side. “The stakes have gotten a whole lot higher,” she said, touching Jeremy’s arm. “That was Jessica’s father. She’s just been rushed to the hospital.”

  Chapter

  15

  Jessica stared up at the ceiling of her hospital room from her bed, the covers balled in her fists, tears of pain and frustration running down her cheeks. Why is this happening? she screamed silently. Why couldn’t the terrible nightmare of kidney failure be over?

  From down the hall she heard the rattle of supper trays arriving. When her meal tray was brought to her, it would be filled with “allowable” food, not the things she craved. Sometimes she dreamed about hot french fries, saturated with grease and salt, still sizzling. She swiped at her tears.

  “Jessica! Are you all right?” Jeremy bolted through the doorway, skidded to a halt beside her bed and gently took her in his arms. “I got here as soon as I could. What’s going on?”

  She dissolved into tears again, pressing her face into his suit coat to muffle her sobs. “The fistula in my arm’s collapsed,” she managed to say. “Now they have to try and create another one in my leg. I go into surgery tomorrow.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said over and over, stroking her hair until her tears slowed and her body stopped trembling.

  “I’m so tired of this, Jeremy. Nothing’s going right for me.”

  He looked away.

  She settled back onto the bed, reached for a tissue and blew her nose. “I guess I’ve ruined your suit.” She dabbed at the wet stains on the shoulder and lapel with another tissue.

  “I don’t care about the suit,” he said, taking the tissue from her hand and dropping it into the wastebasket. “Tell me about you. And about what Dr. Witherspoon is doing for you.”

  “I’ll have to return to an external shunt until my new fistula gets strong enough to do its job.” The first fistula that had failed had also taken a month to become serviceable. The cannula, or tube, of the external shunt that Jessica would use in the interim ran down the outside of her arm, making it far harder to hide than the internal fistula. “It’s ugly, Jeremy. I hate it. And it’ll probably get infected. Why not? Nothing else’s gone right for me.”

  “But at least it’ll be easier to get the needles from the dialyzer into you,” he reminded her. “You won’t have to get stuck every time.”

  She wasn’t consoled. “I feel like I’m starting back at square one, Jeremy. Like I’m in a terrible game
that makes me start over just when I think I’m on top of it.”

  “But even with the external shunt, you can go home after the surgery and go back to your regular dialysis schedule.”

  The concern she saw in his dark eyes touched her deeply, and she regretted having unloaded on him. “Oh my gosh, Jeremy. The hearing! The hearing was today in juvenile court. You went through the whole thing for me, and I was having such a pity party that I didn’t even ask about it. How did it go?”

  “You weren’t having a pity party,” he countered. “You’re in the hospital. I think you’re entitled to be upset. The second I heard, I rushed right over. Where’re your parents?”

  “I made them go to the cafeteria. Mom’s so uptight she might have to check into a room herself.” Jessica sniffed and offered a wan smile. “I worry about them both, you know.” She took Jeremy’s hand. “Tell me what happened today.”

  He looked down at their joined hands, and she realized that because he was avoiding the subject, the hearing must not have gone well. She braced for his news.

  “My father and his attorney ate us for lunch,” Jeremy confessed quietly.

  She felt another wave of depression. “So we lost.”

  He took her face between his palms and said fiercely, “We may have lost the battle, but not the war. We’re not giving up, Jessie.”

  “Tell me all about it.”

  He did. “The judge wouldn’t even let me speak except to answer his dumb questions,” he concluded. “He made me feel like I was some sort of spoiled, snotty-nosed kid who didn’t know that I was well off. Geez, I know I’ve got good parents. That’s not what this is about. It’s about my parents allowing me to do what I want with my own body.”

  He looked disgusted, and she felt so dismal, so defeated that she could hardly stand to have him look at her. “What’s the use of fighting?” she asked.

  “Because I’ve got a good case. Jake and Fran both think I can win if we go before a federal judge.”