Part I: PartingChapter 1: ThursdayChapter 2: Intermission Chapter 3: Responsibility Part II: Conditional LoveChapter 4: SalvageChapter 5: Compomise Chapter 6: Appearances Chapter 7: Steadfast Chapter 8: Scorecard Chapter 9: Middle Chapter 10: Haunting Part III: The ReckoningChapter 11: DeparturesChapter 12: Endurance Chapter 13: Letters Chapter 14: Contrition Chapter 15: Waning Chapter 16: Intervening Chapter 17: Detour Chapter 18: Reunion Chapter 19: Exclusive Chapter 20: Gifts Chapter 21: Pennance Part IV: The Third EventChapter 22: ConfidenceChapter 23: Priorities Chapter 24: Dichotomies Chapter 25: Questions Chapter 26: Inattentiveness Chapter 27: Impetuous Chapter 28: Caged Chapter 29: Secrets Chapter 30: Family Chapter 31: Unfulfilled Chapter 32: Drowning Chapter 33: Persistence Chapter 34: Falling Chapter 35: Promises |
Chapter 16: InterveningDr. Boston looked at the address on the envelope in the trash. It had contained Jessica's letter from her mother. She thought of how many homes Jessica had been to, hoping that the house would be her last move. Dr. Boston picked up the envelope and the phone book. She searched through the directory until she found a number that was what she was looking for.Dr. Boston returned to the kitchen and sifted through the accumulated paperwork on the side table in the dining room searching for an almost forgotten business card. Finally, after briefly glancing and signing a fieldtrip permission slip for the twins and marking the event on the calendar, Dr. Boston was able to locate the card that Jessie’s social worker had left. “You’ve reached Social Services. Are you experiencing a crisis?” came the trained voice over the phone. “I am Dr. Boston of Concord. I would like to speak to a social worker about a specific case.” “Do you have the name of the social worker?” Dr. Boston gave the name. “One moment please.” Dr. Boston waited as the phone clicked and she was greeted by three rings before the phone was lifted. “You are speaking with the on-call social worker.” She was exhausted on the other end. Four emergency placements last night had drained her of her patience. “I’m Dr. Boston, you met me with regards to the original placement of Jessica Raycraft with Paul and Nancy Caudill.” Explained Dr. Boston. “One moment.” It was apparent that the social worker was searching for the file that she least liked. She sighed as it fell on her desk and she looked at it. “Jessica will be placed in the New Horizon’s Group Home, Dr. Boston. If you would like to continue your evaluation of Jessica’s health, you’ll have to consult the facility’s director.” Dr. Boston was mildly shocked that the information was freely handed over. “What about her mother?” “Abigail Raycraft-Marshal is Jessica’s legal guardian. She’s not made her decision as to where Jessica will be placed. If you wish to join the list of people who have paraded into her prison cell begging for attention, you’re more than welcome. Jessica has been permanently placed with New Horizon’s until then. Is there anything else you need?” “What type of arrangements do I need to make if I want to visit Jessica?” Dr. Boston wrote with precision quickly taking down the information. “You will just need to sign in at the desk. Jessica, last I heard, is still in the ‘privileged’ group. If she has created an incident in the last week, which I don’t doubt, she’ll be restricted to only three hours on Saturday.” “Well thank you for your help Anne. Two days later, Dr. Boston arrived with Christine at a dreary gray building surrounded by high fences and barbed wire parking in the visitor’s parking. “Why are we here?” asked Christine gauging the state penitentiary sign with some hesitance. She had accompanied her mother to many different places that involved her mother’s patients but never once had come here. “We have to see somebody.” Dr. Boston shut off the engine and took her briefcase out of the back seat. “Who?” “I'm not sure.” Admitted Dr. Boston. At the gate, Dr. Boston talked with a guard. After several minutes, the guard finally let them pass into a small room on the outside of the building. Said the guard in a slow southern drawl, “I'll call the warden, and I’m not sure what he'll say. Ms. Marshall doesn't like visitors much.” “Thank you.” The warden came down after twenty minutes and looked at the two sitting there in the room. He couldn’t tell if they were really here about Ms. Marshall’s daughter or writing a book about Ms. Marshall. It wasn’t uncommon, and Ms. Marshall would undoubtedly not agree to see them. He approached them in the office. “Hello.” “I'm Dr. Boston.” Dr. Boston handed a card over to the warden who nodded, as he looked it over. “I've talked with Ms. Marshall, she says she has never heard of you.” He didn’t seem entirely interested in what was transpiring. “I know, but I'm here to speak with her with regards to her daughter.” Dr. Boston sounded hopeful. “I'll try to get you to see her, but I think she won't want to speak to you.” His nose twitched over his moustache and sat down on a bench across from them. “How do you know that?” An innocent enough question but it was direct. She has an agenda here. He began nostalgically. “Over the years, Ms. Marshall has had numerous visits from people other than her daughter's social worker. I don't interfere, it's her business after all, but she's been very religious about two things, her daughter and visitors. We had to get a court injunction to make her see the social workers.” “I see. Then, here, give her this,” Dr. Boston pulled out a photo of Jessie with the twins after their last soccer game of the season out of her purse. The recent memory of attending the soccer game brought a smile to her face. There was something endearing about the way six year olds played soccer in a giant stampeding herd regardless of the direction they’re really supposed to be going. “I'll see what I can do.” He mused looking at the photo turning it over briefly and then left to see if he could get the inmate in question to cooperate. “Thank you.” “Mom,” started Christine, “What are you going to say to her?” “I don't know where to begin.” Admitted Dr. Boston. The warden returned about an hour later. Dr. Boston had paced the office room overlooking everything about the prison including the outside yards. Groups moved slowly in shifts around the yard fenced in by the smooth concrete wall that went up for nearly thirty feet topped off with razor wire and patrolling guards who watched both the yard and wall with eagle eyes. He spoke up nearly startling Christine. “Ms. Marshal is willing to see you, she has only fifteen minutes of free time left for today.” “We'll see her for as long as we can.” Dr. Boston accepted the photo as it was returned. Christine and Dr. Boston followed the warden into the gray building and through a series of corridors. “I hope you don't mind, but this is the only area where our inmates may smoke,” said their escort who unlocked a heavy metal door. “We'll be just fine thank you.” Assured Dr. Boston, pulling Christine close behind her. “Marshall, here's your guests, you have ten minutes.” Announced the guard. “Well, we don't have time for useless gabbing. What do you want?” A cloud of smoke wafted from a dark corner. There was only a thin visible strip of prison orange from the shadowy corner. “I'm Dr. Boston.” “Figured that.” Smoke plumed from the corner. “Your daughter is a remarkable girl.” Dr. Boston was for once, lost for words, but knowing the time constraints on her visit, she didn’t want to waste it in dead silence. “Wouldn't really know. I've been here since before she was born.” The comment was lifeless, as if she was trying to end this line of small talk. “Ms. Marshall, Jessie is a remarkable person. But the letter you sent her, I don't know what you said exactly, but it really got to her. I’ve never seen her so contemplative.” Started Christine. “Who are you?” smoke drifted towards Christine, and she batted at the air trying not to cough. “I'd like to say that Jessie is a good friend of mine. She doesn't like having to move so often.” “I can't help it.” More smoke wafted from the dark corner. “Neither can she. She isn't happy.” Christine looked back at her mother; Dr. Boston nodded in encouragement to her daughter. The cigarette was extinguished and a second one lit. As this was done, Abbie spoke. “No one is around here either kid. I know that doesn't justify where she is right now, but that’s never been in my control to change.” The dead match was thrown across the concrete floor and skidded into a corner by a drain, burning out as it touched a trickle of water that surrounded the drain. “But as far as she knows, you're the only one out there who can make a difference in her life.” Countered Christine. “She doesn’t talk about why she’s in foster care to anyone. In fact, I was the first person she ever told anything about you. I don’t know what Jessie needs, and I should I’m her friend. Maybe it’s all just confusion, but Jessie does care.” “Look, the only thing that's going to make a difference in my life right now is a pardon. I asked her to come see me. They’ve pushed my date up; I've got only five more days. I'm not going to wrack my brains over trying to figure out what you want from me.” “Jessie wants to come.” Added Christine. Abbie Marshal almost dropped her last cigarette. She came out of the corner, and walked up to Christine. Except for the scar running across from the far corner of her left eye to her ear, Abbie looked almost like Jessie. It’s in their eyes, the desire to fight. Realized Christine too scared to back away from Abbie Marshal, but knowing that holding her ground was as much as she could do to get Abbie’s trust. After a moment, Abbie stepped back to give Christine space. “I don't hold you to anything. And I don’t hold her to it either. If she’s learned nothing else by now, I know she knows that.” “All right.” “I like you kid, don't get me wrong. Hang around Jessie, from what I gather...she's a very good ally to have.” “Yeah she is.” “Okay. Look, get her here, that's all I want. I don't know what I'll have to say, but I need to see her for some odd reason. It's taken me a long time to admit to doing that, but I'll do it any way.” It sounded like a bargain, and Abbie had lost the negotiations. Abbie gauged the thoughtful looks on Christine then Dr. Boston and she was struck by an odd thought. “Dr. Boston, before you go, why did you come here?” Abbie took a steady drag from her cigarette. “Jessie needs help Ms. Marshal. She’s blind to it, or the people around her have been blind to it. She’s strong she can take care of herself, but I think if she settled her skeletons she’d find herself stronger than she was before.” Replied honestly Dr. Boston. Abbie nodded. First time someone’s never asked me to give up my kid. Thought Abbie. “My free time is up.” As she spoke, a guard walked into the room. “Hey kid, tell her I’ll look forward to seeing her.” The cigarette was extinguished, and Abbie was escorted out of the room. Dr. Boston and Christine lingered for a moment as they heard the locks of the doors slide into place. “Mom, what do you think is going to happen?” “I don’t know Christine, but we need to go see Jessie.” Dr. Boston led her daughter out of the cell. Dr. Boston and Christine returned to the car and Dr. Boston checked her phone for messages. “We have to make a stop before we go home.” “What’s going on?” “I don’t know but I don’t think things are going well for Jessie right now.”
Posted 200311.30-RHM |