“There’s been a problem…”
His face is calm now, as he speaks to me; but there are wrinkles on his brow still not completely faded away from the conversation that he just had with someone on his phone regarding my baby, Boo. TWO blessings in the entire legal nightmare that still plays out for my daughter and I have been:
1) The High Profile Child Sex Assault Attorney who (according to courtroom Legend, at least) has secured Boo a large financial settlement from the organization in charge of the facility where she had been sexually assaulted.
2) The District Attorney who is heading up the feather-ruffling prosecution in the current trial of the man who assaulted Boo.
It is the DA who I am greeted by upon my arrival at the courthouse, all crisp and clean in his pinstripes and cufflinks – he’s no older than I am, and driven by sheer fire underneath him. He believes Boo; he has always believed Boo; and this fact caused him to stand out amongst an ocean of professional evil in a time of sheer crisis, back then. He is the ONLY one in the entirety of Boo’s justice that I can depend on to shoot straight with me – good, bad or otherwise. I do not know what it is that creates such passion in his work for him, maybe he was sexually abused as a child – it wouldn’t shock me to learn this given his ever-raging flame, and it doesn’t matter to me what causes him to be so good at what he does – all I have ever cared about was that he’s there, to do his job the way he does it. And let me tell you: the guy has been in the media smeared notoriously by the wealthy folk against whom he has successfully hammered in trial court – as a “circus act in his unconventional approaches to jury trials”. The guy ain’t no joke…I have come to trust his words in regard to agreements he makes with me or things he tells me to take heed to, he has never steered Boo or me wrong to date.
“What? What’s happened?”
I’m sure my body deflated as obviously as my heart did in the moment, but I didn’t care. The sense of control in these situations is so far on the other side of the planet from me, that I easily become derailed by such instances – and the DA knows this (after all of these years together). He puts his hand up in between our two faces and turns it, palm out towards the bench outside of the courtroom. I sit down heavily and with a sigh.
“They either missed this morning’s flight, or it was delayed…or something happened with the flight and she’s not here yet…”
He calmly says,
“She’ll be here in an hour and a half, and I’ve set you guys up together in the little side room, for her breaks and stuff.”
“Okay, but you’re gonna get me in there with her, so she knows I’m here and I can bring her Chipotle when I come back then, yea?…”
He is rather good at appeasing my combustion switch, or I should say: he has become that way over time, I guess. I agreed to come back with Boo’s favorite lunch at noon.
I saw my beautiful, blonde ringleted, doe-eyed daughter, Boo, today. She did it. She came out here and endured a horrific six hours on the stand in the name of justice – for herself as well as others. My pride over her is overflowing today, I told her so many times how fucking proud I am of her…immensely proud. But mostly, encouraged. Encouraged that maybe there is still some my Boo in there that knows right from wrong, and who will fight for what’s right, even when it’s not the easiest for her in the moment…
Boo made a point to do the right thing today and I can only hope it felt as good for her as it did for me.
“There’s been a problem…”