I Speak For This Child: True Stories of a Child Advocate (34 page)

The unpainted concrete block dwelling was clean, and spacious, but depressingly bland. The boys either did chores, slept, lounged around the television, or sprawled in the dirt outside the front door. There were no supervised activities and the counselors were merely standing guard. Way off in the distance there were horses, but these did not belong to the ranch.

Stan Milton, the ranch supervisor, had met Cory almost a year earlier when he had entered his first shelter placement and was shocked at the change in the boy, who had metamorphosed from a cheerful downy-cheeked child to this much taller young person with a cracking voice and a defiant manner. “He has learned well what we have offered him,” Stan admitted ruefully. “He’s mastered the system.”

“Is there any hope?” I asked.

“Sure. I knew his brother, Rich, but, thankfully, he’s not like him. Cory thinks of himself as the ‘good brother,’ and I can work with that. When I called him on some of the behaviors that have gotten him to this place, he acted shocked, then denied he ever did anything wrong—blaming everyone else for his problems. After I talked him through this denial, he became angry at me. He cussed me out and threw a tantrum. In the end, though, he cried like a baby. That sadness is a breakthrough, for at last he is demonstrating appropriate emotions. It is not going to be pleasant for him or for the staff, but it is what he needs to do.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! Finally someone was dealing with the real child with deep feelings—the Cory I represented—not some creature who required food, shelter, and training like an unruly pet.

“When will he move into a cottage?” I asked.

“He’s going to have to demonstrate that he can follow the rules better, especially regarding his foul language, which we won’t tolerate in our homelike settings.”

“How is he getting along with the other boys in the shelter?”

“They’re pretty rough and we’re overcrowded, so it’s not the best situation for him. But he’s pretty much a follower, so my job is to convince him to follow the right path.”

Stan showed me a handout he used with his staff: Nine Stages of Helping Emotionally Disturbed Clients.

“The problem with Cory, and lots of the boys, is that they move through predictable levels of adjustment, but because of inadequate management, often get stuck in a stage that blows their placement. Then they start over again at step one but never progress into a healthy phase.”

Stan guided me through the process of how children adjust to new programs. He explained that the first period of time in a new home is known as the “honeymoon,” when the child checks it out and tries to understand the family structure, personalities of the caregivers, and evaluates the rules to see how much deviancy is tolerated. During this time, the child merely watches and conforms. When he is comfortable, he enters the “limit testing” stage. Declaring he is no longer “Mr. Nice Guy,” he allows his true nature to surface and begins to see how much he can get away with. If his defiant behavior is checked, he enters the “active resistance” stage in which he becomes even more insubordinate and dares others to “get outta my face.”

“This precisely is where many foster placements collapse,” Stan explained. “When the poorly trained caregiver gets involved in a power struggle with the child, it is impossible to break the cycle of conflict. Eventually the foster parent decides to give up trying and asks for the rebellious child to be removed from his home.”

I saw how Cory’s smoking was classic limit testing. When the Sheldons didn’t punish him for smoking, Cory escalated to stealing cigarettes to provoke the Sheldons into proving whether they were in it for the long haul or not. From Cory’s point of view, they had failed the test. If Cory had been handled properly, he might have had a chance to move to the fourth level of “beginning trust and achievement.”

“On the other side of defiance,” Stan continued, “the child is able to make a decision for himself about whether he should go or stay. Caregivers who respond by enabling the child to make responsible decisions for himself help him into the crucial fifth stage we call ‘acceptance and progress.’ “

Now at last the child is actively able to join a family and enjoy the benefits of what they have to offer. “However, this is a time when foster parents often relax their guard and focus their attentions on a more needy individual, which can lead directly to the next phase of ‘negative personal demands and intense jealousy.’ “

I told Stan that I had seen this dynamic at play with Alicia, who had weathered most of the stages already in the Levy home. But she was always making claims on Ruth’s time and sulking if her needs were not met instantly. “What will happen to her?”

Stan explained that once someone like Alicia had achieved “clear social improvement” she might be ready to go out on her own. “But she still has to clear the hurdle of separation and regression. At that point her fears of the unfamiliar might actually cause deterioration in behavior.”

“What might she do?”

“Sometimes when these children expect they might be leaving, they act worse than when they arrived,” Stan explained. “They’re like wounded bears until they can express sadness about saying good-bye to one phase of life and moving on to another one.”

“I’ve seen some of this in Alicia,” I sighed. “But it’s a long way off for Cory.”

“Nothing can be rushed. We’ll take it step by step.”

I had left the Palomino Ranch with a renewed hope that Cory was in sensitive hands, but a week later Mitzi surprised me with some upsetting news. “Stan Milton called to report that Cory had a sexual incident with another boy. Apparently Cory was found naked in the other boy’s bed.”

“Did Stan say what happened?”

“No, the kids wouldn’t confess, but I know the other one, and he’s been in treatment for sexual offenses.”

“What are they doing about it?”

“They’re moving the other kid to a different cottage, but Stan is going to keep working with Cory.”

“What does Cory want?”

“He said that since things in court weren’t going his way—referring to the delays, I guess—he would stick it out at the ranch. That’s a good sign, don’t you think?” Mitzi asked hopefully.

“I like Stan Milton’s attitude. Since Cory’s always been abandoned by his many mothers, he might attach better to a man.”

“Gay, Cory’s back in town,” Mitzi reported two weeks later.

“What!” I responded in genuine shock.

“After midnight last night, Cory and a bunch of other thugs went on a rampage and broke the hinges on the doors.”

“Stan predicted something like that would happen. Why doesn’t he stand by him and see him through this phase?”

“He tried to,” Mitzi continued. “The rest of the boys are being charged with vandalism, but Stan wanted to give Cory a break because he may just have been part of the pack. In any case, the officials at the ranch won’t keep him.”

Mitzi gave me Cory’s phone number at one of the temporary shelters for kids in transition, the same place he had been taken the night he left his father’s house.

“Cory, how are you?” I asked after I had convinced the shelter worker to put him on the line.

“Okay, I guess. Time for a change anyway.”

“What happened?”

“You know the stress with the trial coming up …”

Sensing that Cory was using words that would manipulate me, I hardened slightly. “Cory, we’re running out of options for you.”

“Stan will take me back at the ranch, I know he will. If I can stay cool until Wednesday, he’ll take me back.”

“I didn’t hear that, but I’ll check it out.”

“If they won’t, will you see if I can go home to my father?” he asked morosely.

“That’s impossible right now.”

“How about my mom?”

“Cory, that’s off in the future. I’m worried about where you will sleep tonight and tomorrow.”

“Gotta go,” he said, and hung up.

Two days later Mitzi reported Cory was in trouble at the shelter for smoking. “They found his butts in a trash can, and the cook caught him lighting a cigarette at a gas stove. He’s on probation. One more incident and I’ll have to move him.”

“Mitzi, have you ever seen Stan’s list of stages?”

“No, what do you mean?”

I explained how Cory was right in the middle of the “get outta my face” phase and wondered if someone couldn’t intervene to help him through it.

“Not when he knows the list better than we do. After I picked him up at the ranch, he actually seemed pleased with himself and said, ‘Hey, I got what I wanted, I got out of there.’ “

“Don’t you see, no placement is going to work out until Cory lands where he wants to be: back home with Dad.”

“That is never going to happen.”

“Maybe he’d be better off there.”

“With that pervert? Are you out of your mind?”

“I don’t see the difference in being molested by a kid at the ranch or his father at home.”

“Did I hear you say that?”

“Look, Mitzi, you know I don’t want anyone to hurt Cory. However, you and HRS are not protecting him right now, so don’t fool yourself into believing that you are.”

“And I was going to ask you to go to the shelter and talk some sense into him,” Mitzi said with much annoyance. “Now I have to find someone to talk some sense into you.”

“I’ll try to calm him down, but I want you to get him some big-time psychological help and fast!”

“There’s no money for that.”

“Grace Chandler paid for Alicia’s evaluation out of her court budget. Ask if she’ll do the same for Cory.”

With a long sigh, Mitzi agreed.

“Lillian, what can I do for Cory?” My tinny voice betrayed my anxiety. “Your idea of a complete psychological exam is excellent. We’d have to have something like that in place before we could recommend a more intensive placement like Horizons Unlimited.”

“Frankly, until this trial issue is settled, I don’t think he’s going to cooperate anywhere,” I continued.

“Keep talking to him, let him know he still has you,” Lillian said consolingly.

With a heavy heart, I phoned the shelter. “Didn’t anyone tell you?” the shelter director inquired. “Mitzi took Cory Stevenson yesterday after he destroyed some property when we caught him smoking.”

“Let me ask you something. If you were Cory Stevenson’s guardian, what would you do for him?”

“He’s a sweet kid and I tried to cut him some slack, but he went down the list of our rules breaking the large ones and the small ones alike. I think he is having major trouble with his impulse control, so he either needs a program that is highly structured or a foster home that can give him plenty of attention.”

Later that day Mitzi informed me that she had moved Cory to another shelter in a nearby district. “They have never had any of the Stevensons, so I talked them into it, but it is only a matter time. He’s cussing just like Rich.”

“Cory told me he wanted to go back to the ranch.”

“They won’t accept him. He’s getting sicker and out of control. I have an appointment with the court psychologist. Not much we can do until then.” Before Mitzi hung up, she told me that Alicia wanted to speak with me.

“Is it true?” Alicia said, sniffling. Mitzi had told Ruth to tell her that Cory had been moved again. “How many times is that?” she snapped.

“A lot, Alicia. The first two shelters, the MacDougals, the Hornsbys, the Sheldons, then the ranch, and now two more shelters.” I counted on my fingers. “That’s eight moves in about eight months.”

“It’s not right! They did this to Rich and you see what happened to him.”

“I’m trying to find something better, Alicia,” I insisted, but my voice sounded hollow.

“Promise me you’ll always tell me where he is?” she asked, more distraught than ever.

“Yes, I promise.”

The next day I was on the phone to Cory’s new shelter counselor, who reported Cory had lice, probably from someone at the ranch. “He’s so needy he even liked having his head checked for nits.”

The counselor said he was playing one-on-one ball games with Cory and was receiving a positive response. “I don’t recommend another group placement,” he said. “What this kid needs is a small foster home, individual care, routine therapy at least twice a week, and a trust that someone will stick with him through the bad times as well as the good.”

“When you find the place, call me,” I replied sarcastically.

An hour later Mitzi had more bad news. “Cory has run away.”

In a more subdued voice than usual, she explained how some of the boys who had rioted at Palomino Ranch had been shipped to the same shelter where Cory was staying. “Your darling Cory ran off with the biggest, loudest, foulest of the bunch: Marco Roundtree, the second worst kid in the system, after Rich Stevenson, that is.” Mitzi continued her litany. “Marco is off his antipsychotic medication, so anything could happen.”

“Are you going to look for him?”

“The shelter reported them on runaway status to the local police.”

“But—”

“Gay, there is nothing more I can do with that kid.” She groaned. “We would’ve had that psychological done by the end of the week. Do you have any idea how many strings I had to pull to get that appointment?”

“Where do you think he’ll end up?” I asked.

“Who knows?”

“Don’t you think he’ll go where he has wanted to be all along?”

“What do you mean?” Mitzi asked.

“There’s only one place he wants to live, and that is with his father. What would happen if he went there?”

“His father would be in more trouble than he would.”

“Well, Mitzi, I won’t tell, if you won’t.”

She didn’t reply so I felt she and I had finally agreed on something: see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.

Keeping my promise to Alicia, I called to tell her I did not know where Cory was.

“What do you mean?” she said. “He’s here!”

“Put him on the phone!” I said, furious and delighted at the same time.

“How’d you get to the Levys’?” I demanded.

“We were at a gas station and this man asked where we wanted to go. He was delivering Bibles to a church only a few miles from the Levys’. Isn’t that amazing?”

“And the other kid? Marco?”