Where Love Has Gone (20 page)
“In plain English,” I asked, “how long?”
“The detention hearing will take place Tuesday. The court hearing will be a week from that day.
A week from next Tuesday—roughly ten days.”
“Ten days!” I exploded. “My wife is due to have a baby any day now! Why do we have to wait until Tuesday to get a hearing?’
“That’s the way it works, Colonel,” Gordon explained patiently. “The detention hearing is set for Tuesday because that’s the day the judge sits on cases involving minor girls. The final hearing is scheduled for a week later because, as I said before, the probation officer must have time to investigate thoroughly every aspect of this case. And that investigation is as important to us as it is to the court. It is from the probation officer’s report that the judge usually makes up his mind unless it is inconclusive in which case he orders further study of the child at Perkins. Our job is to convince the probation officer and the court that the best interests of both Dani and the state will be served if she is given into the custody of her grandmother.
“What do you need me around for? There’s nothing I can do to convince anyone that the old lady should get Dani.”
“I disagree, Colonel. There’s a great deal you can do, merely by indicating that you feel this would be best for your child.
“Yeah,” I said sarcastically. “My word counts for a lot. It couldn’t buy you a beer if you didn’t have a quarter.”
He looked at me. “You underestimate yourself, Colonel. Your word means a great deal. It isn’t easy for people to forget your service to your country.”
“You’re going to pull the war hero bit?”
“For everything it’s worth. It’s working for us already.” “What do you mean?”
Gordon signaled to a waitress and asked her to bring him the morning papers. When they were spread out on the table, he pointed to a front-page picture and its headline.
The picture was of me with my arm around Dani going into the detention hall. The headline was simple:
WAR HERO COMES
TO DEFENSE OF DAUGHTER
“Respectful, don’t you think? The papers are on your side already. There’s no mention of your losing your temper with the reporters. Ordinarily anybody would be crucified for acting as you did. But not you.”
I looked at him questioningly.
“The people involved in the fate of your daughter are human. Even the judge reads the daily papers and whether he admits it or not he’s influenced.” Gordon leaned back in his chair. “If your remaining here is a question of finances, Mrs. Hayden has assured me that she’s willing to help.”
“My finances have nothing to do with it. I tell you my wife is about to have a baby.”
“Public opinion has a way of changing overnight,” Gordon added. “At the moment, there is a great deal of sympathy for you and your daughter. If you should leave before custody is settled,
people might draw the conclusion that your daughter is an incorrigible, in your own eyes not worth saving.”
I glared at him. He was clever all right. He had me neatly boxed in. I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t.
“Remember this, Colonel. Whether Dani spends the next four years of her life in a state correctional institution or at home with her grandmother may very well rest on your decision.”
“Suddenly it’s all my responsibility,” I said angrily. “Why didn’t the court consider that when it awarded Nora custody of Dani? The court had enough evidence to show what Nora was like. Where was the justice in that?
“And where was the old lady when this guy was living in Nora’s house? She must have known what was going on. She didn’t go suddenly blind. Why didn’t she take steps to get Dani out of there before all this happened?
“I wasn’t even here. I wasn’t allowed to be. Oh, no, I wasn’t good enough to come within ten feet of my daughter. I wasn’t even supposed to be her father.
“And now you say it’s my responsibility?”
Gordon looked at me silently for a moment. I guess there was a kind of understanding in his eyes. He spoke softly. “Granting the truth in everything you say, Colonel, it still doesn’t alter the present circumstances. What we face now is bitter fact, not bitter past.” He called for the check. “Don’t make a hasty decision. At least wait until Tuesday, after the detention hearing, before you make up your mind.”
He got to his feet. “Perhaps if you attended the coroner’s inquest tomorrow it would help you reach a decision.”
“The coroner’s inquest? Will Dani be there?’
Gordon shook his head. “No. But her statement will be read in court. And Nora will be there to tell her story.”
“What will that prove?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing, perhaps, that we don’t already know. But it might help convince you that it’s important for you to stay.”
I ordered another cup of coffee as he walked out of the restaurant. There was no point in going out to the old lady’s house now. There wasn’t time before I’d be going out to see Dani.
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Nora’s Jaguar was in the parking lot behind Juvenile Hall when I got there. I had got out of the car and started for the entrance when Charles’s voice stopped me. “Colonel!”
I turned back. “Hello, Charles.”
“Would you do me a favor, sir? I have some packages here that Miss Hayden asked me to deliver to Miss Dani.”
“Where’s Miss Hayden?”
Charles didn’t quite meet my eyes. “She’s not—she’s not feeling too well today. Dr. Bonner advised her to stay in bed and rest. She’s been very upset.”
“I can imagine,” I said dryly. “All right, I’ll take them in.”
“Thank you, Colonel.” He turned and opened the car door. He removed a small suitcase and two packages, one of which looked like a box of candy.
“Wouldn’t they accept them inside?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, sir. But they told me that you were coming out and I thought it would be nicer if you gave them to Miss Dani.”
As I started to walk toward the building, Charles fell into step beside me. “May I have your permission to wait until you come out, sir? I’d very much like to hear how Miss Dani is getting on.”
“Of course, Charles. I’ll look for you when I come out.” “Thank you, sir. I’ll be waiting in the car, sir.”
He turned and went back toward the parking lot as I went into the building. The same gray- haired woman was at the desk. She smiled when she saw me. “I have your visitors pass all ready, Colonel.
“Thank you,” I said.
She noticed the suitcase and the packages. “May I, Colonel? It’s a rule here.”
At first I didn’t know what she meant. Then I understood. Maybe this wasn’t called a prison but some of the same rules applied.
She opened the suitcase first. There were several blouses and skirts on top. She lifted them out onto the desk. Underneath were two sweaters, some stockings, underwear, two pairs of shoes and a neat pile of handkerchiefs. She ran her hands down under and then carefully around the sides. She smiled at me as she put everything into the suitcase and closed it. The two packages came next. I had guessed right. One was a box of candy. The other contained several books, the kind that young girls
were supposed to read.
The clerk looked at me apologetically. “Everything seems to be in order. You have no idea what some people will try to smuggle in.”
“I understand,” I said.
She handed me a slip of paper and pointed to a door. “Through there to the end of the corridor. Then up one flight and follow the signs on the wall. You’ll come to a locked gate. Show your pass to the matron on duty. She’ll take you to your daughter.”
“Thank you.”
The corridors were clinically clean, the walls painted a pale hospital green. I went up the flight of steps and came out in a corridor exactly like the one I had just left. A sign on the wall opposite pointed—TO THE GIRLS’ COTTAGES.
I followed this until I came to a wire wall. It was heavy gauge wire and ran from floor to ceiling. In the center was a steel-framed door, also of the same heavy wire grill.
I tired it but it was locked. I shook it and the reverberations echoed down the empty corridor.
A door opened and a large Negro woman came hurrying out, her fingers buttoning the front of her white uniform. “I just came on,” she apologized.
I held up my pass.
She read it quickly and nodded. Taking a key from the pocket of her white uniform, she turned the lock. I stepped in and she closed the door after me.
We walked down the corridor until it opened into a large reception room. There were chairs scattered around and on one side, against the windows where it was completely screened from the corridor, a table and several more chairs.
Several girls were gathered around the table, listening to a small radio. Two other girls were dancing, one white and the other a Negro. The music was rock and roll.
The girls looked up as we came in. There was a strangely disinterested curiosity in their expression that faded quickly when they saw I hadn’t come to visit them.
“What room is Dani Carey in?” the matron asked. They looked at her blankly.
“The new girl.”
“Oh, the new girl.” It was the colored girl who answered. “She is twelve.” “Why isn’t she out here with you girls? Didn’t you invite her?”
“Sho, we axed her. But she didn’t want to, Miss Matson. She wanted to stay in her room. She still shy, I reckon.”
The matron nodded as we left the room and started down another corridor. There was a door every few feet. The matron stopped in front of one and knocked. “You have a visitor,” Dani.”
“Okay,” Dani called from inside.
“I’ll let you know when your visiting time is up,” the matron said. “Thank you,” I said as she went back down the corridor. “Daddy!” Dani exclaimed and flung herself into my arms.
“Hello, baby.” I juggled the packages and kissed her.
The door was all the way open now and I could see into Dani’s room. It was small and narrow, with two cots along the opposite walls. High up on the wall between them was a small window. A young woman was sitting on one of the cots. She got to her feet when I entered.
“This is Miss Spicer, Daddy,” Dani said. “Miss Spicer, this is my father.”
The young woman held out her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Colonel Carey.” Her grip was firm and friendly. “I’m Marian Spicer, the probation officer assigned to Dani.”
I stared at her. Somehow the term “probation officer” conjured up a vision of a harsh-faced man. This one was young, not more than twenty-eight, of medium height, with brown hair, cut in ringlets framing her face, and alert brown eyes. I guess some of my surprise showed for her smile grew broader.
“How do you do, Miss Spicer?”
I guess she was accustomed to this reaction because she ignored it. Instead she looked down at the packages. “I see your father brought some things for you, Dani. Isn’t that nice?”
Dani looked at me questioningly. I knew she recognized the suitcase. “Your mother sent them,” I
said.
A kind of veil came down over Dani’s eyes. “Isn’t Mother coming?” “No. She isn’t feeling well—”
The shadow was deeper over her eyes now. I couldn’t see into them at all. “I didn’t really
expect her, Daddy.”
“Dr. Bonner told her to stay in bed. I know she wanted to—”
Dani interrupted me. “How do you know, Daddy? Did you see her?” I didn’t answer.
“She probably sent Charles and he gave the packages to you. Isn’t that the way it was, Daddy?” Her eyes dared me to contradict.
I nodded.
She turned away with an almost angry gesture.
“I’ll leave you to visit with your father, Dani,” Miss Spicer said quietly. “I’ll be back later this afternoon.”
Dani walked over to the far side of the bed and sat down, her face averted. I glanced around the room again. It was at most eight by ten; the only other furniture besides the two beds was one chair and a small chest of drawers at the foot of each bed. The walls had once been green but had later been painted cream without too much success. They were heavily marked up. I looked more closely
and saw that the scrawls were actually mostly boys’ names or dates. Here and there were what appeared to be telephone numbers. Occasionally there was a lewd invitation, usually the kind found scratched into the walls of public restrooms. I looked at Dani.
The grown-up young lady who had come down the staircase yesterday morning had completely disappeared. Instead a little girl sat there on the cot. Her only makeup was a pale lipstick, and in place of the bouffant hairdo was a ponytail secured with a rubber band. In the blouse and skirt she looked even younger than her fourteen years.
I reached for a cigarette. “Give me one, Daddy.”
I stared at her. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
“There’s lots of things you don’t know, Daddy,” she said impatiently.
I handed her a cigarette and held the match for her. She smoked all right. I could see that from the way she inhaled, dragging the smoke up into her nostrils as she blew it out.
“Does your mother know you smoke?” I asked.
She nodded, giving me that challenging look again.
“I don’t think it’s such a hot idea. You’re still young—”
She cut me off quickly. “Don’t start being that kind of a father now. It’s a little too late for that.”
In a way she was right. There were too many years that I hadn’t been around. I tried to change the subject. “Aren’t you going to look at what your mother sent you?”
“I know what Mother’s sent me,” she retorted. “Candy, books, clothing. The same stuff she always sends whenever I go away. Ever since the first summer she sent me to camp.”
Suddenly her eyes filled with tears. “I guess she thinks this is just another camp. She always sent me something, sure. But she never came to visit, not even on Parents’ Day.”
I wanted to reach out for her, to hold her and soothe her, but something about the way she sat there so stiffly made me keep hands off. After a few minutes she stopped crying.
“Why didn’t you ever come to see me, Daddy?” she asked in a small voice. “Didn’t you care about me anymore?”
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