Not Quite Crazy
Page 59
“Have Mr. and Mrs. Coleman raised a hand to Owen?”
“No.”
“Have they threatened him?”
“No. Not that I know of,” she said.
“Is there anything you wouldn’t do to keep Owen safe?” Mr. Yanez asked.
“No.”
“Would you take a bullet for him?”
“Yes. I love him as if he were my own son.”
Mr. Yanez smiled as if he’d caught her. Jason felt the rabbit hole closing in. “Would you leave the country in order to keep Owen safe?”
Her breathing became a staccato that the entire courtroom heard.
“Objection, Your Honor. Leading the witness.”
“Sustained.”
Mr. Yanez held up his hand. “One more question, Your Honor.” He removed the paper with Owen’s signature on it and held it in front of Rachel. “This isn’t your signature?”
“No.”
“This is your address, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Whose signature is it?”
She blinked, twice. “I’m not sure.”
“Really? Look again. That signature isn’t familiar at all?”
Rachel looked Jason’s way again.
Without words, he tried to tell her everything would work out.
She studied the paper again. “It could be Owen’s.”
Deyadria pounded the table with her hand and said, “Ha.”
The people in the courtroom watching and waiting for their turn started to talk among themselves.
“Could be? Or is? You’ve known Owen since he was five, helped in his primary school classroom. Don’t you know his handwriting?”
She looked at Yanez. “It is his.”
The lawyer smiled. “Thank you, Miss Price.”
Rachel sat through closing arguments in a haze. Mr. Yanez painted her as a woman who purposely fostered a relationship with a man capable of taking her anywhere in the world and as a significant flight risk. He argued that she knew about the court order and ignored it. He asked that the court give the Colemans time to locate their son and bring him back before granting her permanent guardianship back.
Clive ended with a plea that the judge recognize the love between Rachel and Owen and the proof of her intentions of doing the right thing by moving there and opening up their lives to the Colemans. He requested the court grant her full guardianship.
Now they all sat in the courtroom while the judge retired to her chambers to review the case.
“Any word on Owen?”
“Nothing.” Jason looked at the screen on his phone.
“It’s going to be dark soon.”
“We’ll find him.”
“You sound so confident.”
“Owen’s a smart kid. He isn’t sitting out in the cold.”
She hoped Jason was right.
The bailiff called the room to order and Rachel turned to face the judge.
“Be seated,” she told them.
“I’ve looked at all the evidence and the statements given by the social workers assigned to this case. Most of the time I can find a clear right or a clear wrong that helps my decision. This isn’t the case here,” Judge Sherman said.
“Mr. and Mrs. Coleman. You have not shown clear and convincing evidence that Miss Price is unfit as a guardian for your grandson. However, there is still some question as to the state of her home, and the court has no choice but to wait for more information. I’m putting in my order that as soon as Owen Moreau is found, he see a doctor for a physical to rule out any toxicity in regards to Miss Price’s home. It is evident your son, TJ, knew of Owen and did not step into the role of father. For reasons unknown. But as Miss Price has pointed out, it is only fair Owen be given the opportunity to know his family . . . all of you. That is going to be a bumpy road, Mr. and Mrs. Coleman, as it seems Owen’s trust in you has already been broken.”
Deyadria opened her mouth, and Yanez hushed her.
“Miss Price. It is overwhelmingly evident that you will do anything for Owen. I am the mother of two, and I know I would do anything, and I do mean anything, to keep my children safe. Because I know that in my heart, I have no choice but to assume you would as well. I look at this signature card and can’t help but wonder if Owen saw and disregarded the paper. I question if you saw it. There really is no evidence outside of the fact the order did indeed end up in your home on . . .” She looked at the paper. “December twenty-seventh of last year. It is clear that you believe the Colemans are a threat. From Owen’s words on his video, he feels they are, too. And keeping him from that threat may very well mean leaving the country to do so.”
Oh, God. She is going to take him away.
“However, you took him away and brought him back, which points to you telling the truth about not seeing the court order. You don’t strike me as an unintelligent woman.”
Please, please . . .
“So this is what I’m going to do. Much as I’d love to put this matter to rest today, I cannot. I request Miss Price and Owen Moreau surrender their passports until a final ruling can be made. I want to revisit this matter once all the reports on Miss Price’s home are completed, Owen is found and can be questioned, and more importantly, Tereck Coleman Junior, otherwise known as TJ, can be brought in to testify. You see, I do believe a son deserves to know his father. That said, I’m not going to give TJ an unlimited time to make his intentions known. If TJ has any intention of taking custody, temporary or jointly, he will need to report to this court in three weeks. In the meantime, Owen Moreau will be considered a ward of the court and placed in the care of Miss Price. I will not mandate any visitation by the Colemans at this time.”
Sparks of joy exploded in Rachel’s chest.
“I will encourage Miss Price and the Colemans to come to some peace, for Owen’s sake.”
“But we’re his family,” Deyadria pleaded.
Judge Sherman focused on her. “That is where you’re wrong. DNA does not dictate family. Both of my children are adopted. One from Vietnam, the other from South Africa. Love dictates family. So, out of the mouths of babes . . . when the adults can ‘start acting like adults’ again, this matter can be solved. This case is to be brought back to me three weeks from today.”
She dropped the gavel, and Rachel turned and threw her arms around Jason.
For the next two days, Jason’s home became a field office in their search for Owen.
A map of the city and the trains leading into and out of it that Owen could have taken were drawn out. The shelters had red dots on them, those that had been contacted and/or visited had green dots.
“The problem is, Owen doesn’t want to be found,” Nathan told Jason and Glen. “If the lad knows he can come home, he will probably just show up.”
Ford and Lionel returned from their local search. “We looked at all our hangouts. No one has seen him.”
“I can’t help but think he isn’t in the city,” Nathan said.
“Why?” Glen asked.
“Because that would be foolish! There’s half a foot of snow on the ground.”
Jason looked at the vaulted ceiling of his childhood home, and his brain started to itch. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” Glen paused, his pen midair, en route to mark off something on the map.
“This place is Narnia. We got lost in it. Hide-and-go-seek.”
Glen caught on and looked around them. “No way.”
“No.”
“Have they threatened him?”
“No. Not that I know of,” she said.
“Is there anything you wouldn’t do to keep Owen safe?” Mr. Yanez asked.
“No.”
“Would you take a bullet for him?”
“Yes. I love him as if he were my own son.”
Mr. Yanez smiled as if he’d caught her. Jason felt the rabbit hole closing in. “Would you leave the country in order to keep Owen safe?”
Her breathing became a staccato that the entire courtroom heard.
“Objection, Your Honor. Leading the witness.”
“Sustained.”
Mr. Yanez held up his hand. “One more question, Your Honor.” He removed the paper with Owen’s signature on it and held it in front of Rachel. “This isn’t your signature?”
“No.”
“This is your address, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Whose signature is it?”
She blinked, twice. “I’m not sure.”
“Really? Look again. That signature isn’t familiar at all?”
Rachel looked Jason’s way again.
Without words, he tried to tell her everything would work out.
She studied the paper again. “It could be Owen’s.”
Deyadria pounded the table with her hand and said, “Ha.”
The people in the courtroom watching and waiting for their turn started to talk among themselves.
“Could be? Or is? You’ve known Owen since he was five, helped in his primary school classroom. Don’t you know his handwriting?”
She looked at Yanez. “It is his.”
The lawyer smiled. “Thank you, Miss Price.”
Rachel sat through closing arguments in a haze. Mr. Yanez painted her as a woman who purposely fostered a relationship with a man capable of taking her anywhere in the world and as a significant flight risk. He argued that she knew about the court order and ignored it. He asked that the court give the Colemans time to locate their son and bring him back before granting her permanent guardianship back.
Clive ended with a plea that the judge recognize the love between Rachel and Owen and the proof of her intentions of doing the right thing by moving there and opening up their lives to the Colemans. He requested the court grant her full guardianship.
Now they all sat in the courtroom while the judge retired to her chambers to review the case.
“Any word on Owen?”
“Nothing.” Jason looked at the screen on his phone.
“It’s going to be dark soon.”
“We’ll find him.”
“You sound so confident.”
“Owen’s a smart kid. He isn’t sitting out in the cold.”
She hoped Jason was right.
The bailiff called the room to order and Rachel turned to face the judge.
“Be seated,” she told them.
“I’ve looked at all the evidence and the statements given by the social workers assigned to this case. Most of the time I can find a clear right or a clear wrong that helps my decision. This isn’t the case here,” Judge Sherman said.
“Mr. and Mrs. Coleman. You have not shown clear and convincing evidence that Miss Price is unfit as a guardian for your grandson. However, there is still some question as to the state of her home, and the court has no choice but to wait for more information. I’m putting in my order that as soon as Owen Moreau is found, he see a doctor for a physical to rule out any toxicity in regards to Miss Price’s home. It is evident your son, TJ, knew of Owen and did not step into the role of father. For reasons unknown. But as Miss Price has pointed out, it is only fair Owen be given the opportunity to know his family . . . all of you. That is going to be a bumpy road, Mr. and Mrs. Coleman, as it seems Owen’s trust in you has already been broken.”
Deyadria opened her mouth, and Yanez hushed her.
“Miss Price. It is overwhelmingly evident that you will do anything for Owen. I am the mother of two, and I know I would do anything, and I do mean anything, to keep my children safe. Because I know that in my heart, I have no choice but to assume you would as well. I look at this signature card and can’t help but wonder if Owen saw and disregarded the paper. I question if you saw it. There really is no evidence outside of the fact the order did indeed end up in your home on . . .” She looked at the paper. “December twenty-seventh of last year. It is clear that you believe the Colemans are a threat. From Owen’s words on his video, he feels they are, too. And keeping him from that threat may very well mean leaving the country to do so.”
Oh, God. She is going to take him away.
“However, you took him away and brought him back, which points to you telling the truth about not seeing the court order. You don’t strike me as an unintelligent woman.”
Please, please . . .
“So this is what I’m going to do. Much as I’d love to put this matter to rest today, I cannot. I request Miss Price and Owen Moreau surrender their passports until a final ruling can be made. I want to revisit this matter once all the reports on Miss Price’s home are completed, Owen is found and can be questioned, and more importantly, Tereck Coleman Junior, otherwise known as TJ, can be brought in to testify. You see, I do believe a son deserves to know his father. That said, I’m not going to give TJ an unlimited time to make his intentions known. If TJ has any intention of taking custody, temporary or jointly, he will need to report to this court in three weeks. In the meantime, Owen Moreau will be considered a ward of the court and placed in the care of Miss Price. I will not mandate any visitation by the Colemans at this time.”
Sparks of joy exploded in Rachel’s chest.
“I will encourage Miss Price and the Colemans to come to some peace, for Owen’s sake.”
“But we’re his family,” Deyadria pleaded.
Judge Sherman focused on her. “That is where you’re wrong. DNA does not dictate family. Both of my children are adopted. One from Vietnam, the other from South Africa. Love dictates family. So, out of the mouths of babes . . . when the adults can ‘start acting like adults’ again, this matter can be solved. This case is to be brought back to me three weeks from today.”
She dropped the gavel, and Rachel turned and threw her arms around Jason.
For the next two days, Jason’s home became a field office in their search for Owen.
A map of the city and the trains leading into and out of it that Owen could have taken were drawn out. The shelters had red dots on them, those that had been contacted and/or visited had green dots.
“The problem is, Owen doesn’t want to be found,” Nathan told Jason and Glen. “If the lad knows he can come home, he will probably just show up.”
Ford and Lionel returned from their local search. “We looked at all our hangouts. No one has seen him.”
“I can’t help but think he isn’t in the city,” Nathan said.
“Why?” Glen asked.
“Because that would be foolish! There’s half a foot of snow on the ground.”
Jason looked at the vaulted ceiling of his childhood home, and his brain started to itch. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” Glen paused, his pen midair, en route to mark off something on the map.
“This place is Narnia. We got lost in it. Hide-and-go-seek.”
Glen caught on and looked around them. “No way.”
