The Choice

by Robert Whitlow

  “What is it, Curtis?” Sandy asked.

  “I brought my paper by early. I have a dentist’s appointment today. Did you lose something?”

  “No.”

  Curtis handed her the assignment. As he turned to leave, Sandy looked over his shoulder into the hallway. There, unobtrusively stuck to the place where the ceiling met the top of the wall, was a black orb that concealed one of the cameras used to monitor student activity. The range of the camera must include the first few feet of her classroom. Sandy waved.

  It took half of her first-period class for Sandy to reorient herself to her job as a teacher. She longed for the days when her greatest concerns had to do with managing her time and making sure a student with academic problems didn’t slip through the cracks. After the third-period bell sounded, her classroom emptied. A few moments later, Maria appeared in her doorway. Sandy resisted the urge to shoo her away. Even if Maria left immediately, the camera still would have recorded a visit.

  “Come in,” Sandy said. “I need to tell you what happened yesterday.”

  Sandy spoke in Spanish. Maria listened without asking any questions until Sandy mentioned that the judge wanted her present at the rescheduled hearing.

  “I don’t know what to say to the judge.”

  “Mr. Lane and I will go over that with you. In the meantime, there’s a chance the lawyer from Atlanta is going to come to Rutland next week to talk to you. Mr. Lane hopes that once the lawyer meets you, he will realize that you are able to make decisions about your pregnancy on your own.”

  “I saw Ms. Ramsey after first period,” Maria said. “She wants me to come by her office before I leave school today. Why does she want to see me?”

  “Probably to talk about the hearing.”

  “Do I have to go?”

  “I can’t tell you what to do,” Sandy replied slowly. “If I suggest you don’t talk to Ms. Ramsey, the lawyer in Atlanta will use that to make it seem like I’m making you stay away from her. That could get me in trouble.” Maria shook her head. “And we need to stop talking in my classroom,” Sandy added.

  “Why?”

  She explained to Maria about the surveillance camera. The Hispanic girl’s eyes widened.

  “Don’t turn around now,” Sandy said. “It might be better if we talk on the phone and arrange a place to meet that’s not on school property. I’m going to get you a cell phone that allows me to buy a set number of minutes. When you run out, I can add more. That way you can get in touch with me, and Rosalita too.”

  “Thank you,” Maria said with obvious gratitude. “I won’t waste the minutes.”

  After Maria left, Sandy felt a sense of relief but couldn’t understand why. Nothing had been settled. Maybe it had to do with the fact that the process was getting clearer. The unknown is frightening. But Sandy had been inside a federal courtroom. She’d seen Judge Tompkins and met Dusty Abernathy. She’d heard Carol testify. And she knew in general terms what lay ahead.

  When it was time for her lunch period, Sandy marched into the cafeteria without worrying whether she might encounter Carol. After going down the salad bar line, she sat with some teachers and entered into a conversation about plans for homecoming. The event was normally one of the highlights of Sandy’s year. As a Rutland High graduate who still lived in the area and worked at the school, she was a natural focal point for homecoming activities. This year she hadn’t done anything. She jotted a few notes to herself on a napkin and slipped it in her purse.

  That afternoon on her way home, Sandy bought a cheap cell phone for Maria and programmed both her home and cell numbers into speed dial. Then she drove to the trailer park to give the phone to Maria. The dirt road between the trailers was deserted. Still, the place made Sandy feel uneasy. She made sure the doors of her car were locked and didn’t stop at Maria’s trailer but continued to the one where Rosalita lived. If Maria wasn’t there, Sandy would ask Rosalita to give the phone to her. Sandy walked up the steps to the door of the trailer and knocked. One of the older girls she’d seen previously cracked open the door. Sandy spoke in Spanish.

  “Is Maria here?” she asked.

  “No,” the girl answered in English.

  “How about your mother?” Sandy replied, also in English. “I’m Ms. Lincoln from the high school.”

  “She’s taking care of the baby,” the girl answered.

  Sandy couldn’t see anything inside the trailer. She took the phone from her purse.

  “Can you ask your mother to give this cell phone to Maria?”

  “I’ll do it,” the girl replied. “She’s coming over to help fix supper.”

  “Okay. Tell Maria to call me as soon as she gets it. My number is marked in her directory with my name. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” The girl nodded with a slightly disgusted expression on her face. “I know how a cell phone works.”

  Sandy heard a chain rattle as the door was locked. She slowly turned away. Something wasn’t right about the way the girl acted.

  As she left the trailer park, Sandy slowed down when she reached Maria’s trailer. There were two pickup trucks and a beat-up car parked in front. Lights shone from two of the trailer’s three windows. Sandy suddenly wanted to get away as fast as she could. She pressed down on the accelerator and left in a cloud of dust.

  Early the next morning Sandy went to Maria’s homeroom class. The students hadn’t arrived. The homeroom teacher was a young woman named Ms. Randolph who taught algebra II, trigonometry, and calculus. Sandy told her she needed to see Maria and sat on the front row to wait. The large room was also used by the school chorus. In the back corner was the telltale black orb that concealed a camera.

  “How is Maria?” Ms. Randolph asked.

  “What do you know?” Sandy replied, not sure whether she could trust the young woman.

  “I know she’s pregnant and about the court cases. My boyfriend is a lawyer with the public defender’s office. When I told him people were getting served with legal papers in the faculty lounge, he checked the records.”

  “Nothing has been resolved,” Sandy replied.

  “I’m sorry. I think it’s terrible, and my boyfriend says this case could have an impact on teachers all over the country.”

  Before Sandy could respond, two members of the cheerleading squad entered the room. Seeing Sandy, they came over to her. While the three of them chatted, Sandy kept one eye on the door. The tardy bell sounded just as Maria came in. Sandy immediately escorted her into the hallway. There was another surveillance camera directly overhead.

  “Did you get the phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “I told Rosalita’s daughter to tell you to call me to test it out,” Sandy said.

  “She didn’t. But everyone was upset last night.”

  “Why?”

  “Rosalita heard that Emilio has come back, and he’s mad at Rosalita’s husband.”

  “Why?”

  “Something to do with money. Rosalita didn’t tell me.”

  “Is Rosalita’s husband on the road?”

  “Yes, and he won’t be back until the middle of next week.”

  Sandy’s mind was whirring.

  “Is it dangerous for you to be at your father’s house?”

  “I don’t know. My father doesn’t want Emilio to come there, but the lock on our door wouldn’t keep him out. It’s the same at Rosalita’s house.”

  “Maybe someone should talk to the police.”

  “What good would that do?” Maria asked, shrugging her shoulders.

  “I understand. Go to homeroom, and I’ll talk to you later.”

  Sandy paced back and forth in the hall for the few minutes she had to wait until students streamed out on the way to their first-period classes. Returning to the choral room, she approached Ms. Randolph.

  “I’ve been thinking. Could your boyfriend find out if there are criminal charges against someone?”

  “Ted is a defense attorney, not a prosecutor, but
I could ask him. What’s the person’s name?”

  “Uh, Emilio. I don’t know a last name, but he’s in his thirties. When he’s in town he spends a lot of time at the trailer park where Maria lives. It’s the one off Haggler Road.”

  “Without a last name, it may not be possible to find out anything. What do I say when he asks me why I want to know about this guy?”

  “That I’m concerned about Maria, and Emilio is the big reason.”

  “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks.”

  Sandy walked down the hallway to her classroom. The best way to remove Emilio as a possible threat to Maria and the other families in the trailer park would be his arrest. A criminal charge of statutory rape would be a straightforward way to do so. Sandy had sympathized with Maria’s early reluctance to talk to the police, but the situation had changed.

  Later that afternoon during cheerleading practice, Sandy received a text message from Jeremy:

  Hearing in Atlanta rescheduled for next Wed. at 9:00 a.m. Sorry for the early morning time, but the judge set it. Dusty Abernathy is coming to Rutland on Monday afternoon to meet Maria. Details to follow.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Later that evening Sandy received a telephone call at home from an unfamiliar number.

  “Sandy, this is Mimi Randolph. I talked to my boyfriend about Emilio. He couldn’t find an arrest warrant for anyone with that name, but he talked to some of his contacts in the Hispanic community. Several people knew a man named Emilio. No one liked him.”

  “That’s probably him.”

  “You didn’t tell me this man’s link to Maria,” Mimi said, “but is he the father—”

  “I can’t say,” Sandy replied quickly.

  “You don’t have to. But Ted said if Emilio raped Maria, then she’s the one who has to take action against him.”

  Mimi’s intuition was sharp.

  “I’ll let her know.”

  After the call ended, Sandy tried to reach Maria, but the girl didn’t answer the phone. Sandy felt frustrated. If Maria wasn’t going to be available, the cell phone was a waste of money. Fifteen minutes later, Sandy’s phone beeped. It was Maria.

  “Why didn’t you answer earlier?” Sandy asked.

  “I was with my father and waited until I came to Rosalita’s trailer to call you. It’s better if we talk while I’m here.”

  “Okay. It just makes me worry when I can’t reach you.”

  Sandy told Maria about her conversation with Ms. Randolph and the information obtained from the teacher’s boyfriend.

  “Would I have to go to the police station?” Maria asked. “I’m too scared to do that.”

  “Or an officer could meet with you somewhere else. That’s what Ms. Ramsey was trying to set up a few weeks ago.”

  The phone was silent for a moment.

  “I know my father would say no. He told me that every time I talk to someone, I make a bigger problem for myself and my family.”

  “Please think about it. I’d go with you to the police station if you want me to.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Sandy then told her about the text message from Jeremy.

  “This means you’re going to have to do some talking on Monday,” Sandy said. “I’ll try to get more details from Jeremy and let you know.”

  “Jeremy?”

  “Mr. Lane, the lawyer. I’m going to see him on Sunday.”

  “I don’t want to talk to the lawyer from Atlanta. I won’t understand what he says.”

  “A translator will be there.”

  “That won’t help. Mr. Lane uses big words I haven’t learned, but I have you there to explain them to me. And he’s trying to help me. This man wants to hurt me.”

  It was a simple but accurate description of Dusty Abernathy’s job.

  “I’ll tell Mr. Lane to make sure you understand the questions,” Sandy said. “Don’t worry. He’ll take care of you.”

  Friday night at the football game Sandy was buying a drink at the concession stand. A crowd was milling around in front of the booth. When she turned around, she bumped into Brian Winston, the school board’s attorney. Their eyes met.

  “Ms. Lincoln, please have your lawyer get in touch with me,” Winston sputtered.

  “Okay.”

  Winston moved away, knocking a woman off balance. The press of the crowd kept her from falling.

  “Watch it!” the woman called out as Winston continued through the crowd.

  Sandy returned to the sidelines. She’d told Maria to trust Jeremy and not worry. Now she was going to have to take her own advice.

  The Rutland team was driving the ball steadily down the field. Someone touched Sandy on the arm. It was Jessica.

  “What’s the latest news about your thirty-three-year-old baby?” Jessica asked.

  “More than I can squeeze into a few minutes.”

  “I’ll take anything you can give me.”

  “I told him,” Sandy said.

  Jessica screamed, and several of the cheerleaders turned around. Sandy told Jessica about the meeting at Ben’s office.

  “I have goose bumps on top of goose bumps,” Jessica replied, rubbing her arms.

  Sandy started to mention Leanne but suddenly changed her mind.

  “There’s a big problem,” Sandy said. “I’m afraid Jeremy has met his brother.”

  “What?” Jessica said in a loud voice that was fortunately drowned out by a roar from the stands as the Rutland quarterback completed a pass.

  As Sandy told her about Dusty Abernathy, Jessica’s mouth dropped open in shock.

  “I’m not one hundred percent sure, and Dusty denies being adopted,” Sandy said. “But I wish you could see him. He has some of Brad’s mannerisms.”

  “A mother’s intuition is better than a lie detector test.” Jessica reached into her purse and took out a piece of paper. “Tell me Dusty’s full name again. I’ll get online at home, find his picture, and let you know what I think.”

  Jessica scribbled down the information.

  “Did you say anything to Jeremy about the old woman at the gas station?”

  “No, he would really think I’m loony. He already believes I was imagining the similarity between Dusty and Brad Donnelly.”

  “How would he know anything about Brad?”

  “I showed him some photos from our high school yearbook.”

  “Oh.” Jessica paused. “If you let him look at my senior picture, there’s no way he’ll recognize me now.”

  At that moment, Rutland scored a touchdown. The cheerleaders sprang into action.

  “Not a word about this to anyone,” Sandy said into Jessica’s ear.

  Jessica raised her right index finger to her lips and nodded her head.

  The game ended in a Rutland High School victory. Sandy turned down an invitation to go out with a group of students. At home, she logged on to the website for Jenkins and Lyons. She was reading about the firm when Jessica called.

  “What is Jeremy thinking?” she said. “Dusty has Brad’s eyes. Grab the yearbook for our senior year and turn to page thirty-four.”

  Sandy flipped open the yearbook. It was a candid photo of Brad standing in front of the school with a few of his friends. The way Brad stood, the shape of his head, and the expression on his face all looked very similar to Dusty Abernathy.

  “Yeah,” she said. “You’re right. But for some reason, Jeremy didn’t see it.”

  “You’re going to have to tell him,” Jessica replied.

  “I already tried.”

  “Try again. And both of us should keep digging into Dusty’s background to see what turns up. Did you know he’s been married twice?”

  “I think I read he was divorced.”

  “And he doesn’t have any children. He has a younger sister who lives with her husband in Washington, D.C.”

  “How did you find out about that?”

  “One of the genealogy groups I belong to. Family research
ers post data about people that ends up in public forums.”

  “Do you know his sister’s name?”

  “Lydia Abernathy Duncan. I have her address and phone number.”

  “You got that from a genealogy site?”

  “No, once I had her name, I used an address finder. Do you want to call her?”

  Sandy paused. “Give it to me, but I doubt I’ll contact her. What would I say? ‘I recently met your brother, who claims he’s not adopted, but I think he’s my son.’ She’d report me to the police as a cyberstalker.”

  Sandy jotted down the address and phone number.

  “I’ll keep digging,” Jessica said. “You have to be a member of the genealogy group to access the information I found, but I’ll print out copies of his family tree for you. His paternal grandfather was an actor who appeared in several films. I found a publicity picture, and Dusty doesn’t look anything like him.”

  Sunday morning Sandy drove to the church in Tryon. She sat down beside Deb Bridges.

  “Great to see you,” Deb said, then leaned in closer. “I’m sorry the hearing in Atlanta had to be rescheduled. I know that’s a big strain on you.”

  “Yeah. The judge wants to hear from Maria.”

  “Which makes sense to me.” Deb reached into her purse and took out a breath mint. “Do you want one?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Jeremy likes the lawyer on the other side of the case.”

  “I know. We ate lunch together after the hearing.”

  “I bet that was awkward.”

  “Yes, but Jeremy is pretty strong-willed.”

  “Tell me about it.” Deb made a face.

  Sandy glanced over her shoulder and saw Jeremy and Leanne come in. Jeremy saw her and waved. He nudged Leanne, who smiled in greeting.

  Sandy relaxed and enjoyed the service. After it was over, she and Deb made their way outside and found Jeremy and Leanne.

  “Hey, Sandy,” a male voice said when Sandy and Deb parted.

  It was John Bestwick. He didn’t know Jeremy and Leanne, so Sandy introduced them.