Page 29 of Tony

Simon walked over, smiling as he congratulated her on her first storm survival. “I was stuck in a snow storm once, but confess to not having a beautiful woman with me. I envy Mr. Alvarez.”

“Alright, enough about my adventures or misadventures,” she laughed. Looking at Simon, she asked, “What about my CASA cases? Anything new?”

“Actually, I’ve got a young woman I’d like you to talk to. She was referred by the courts, but won’t talk to me, so you’ve been assigned as her worker. She is a runaway and currently in a foster placement. You can visit her at her foster home this afternoon if you can fit it into your schedule.”

“Sure. I’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do, but I’d love to.”

That afternoon found Sherrie sitting at the kitchen table of the foster home, talking to Betina. She was the only one talking because Betina refused to speak. The young woman was fifteen years old and a natural beauty. Long, black hair and tan skin, the Latina teenager looked furtively from side to side as though searching for an escape.

“Betina, I want to explain why I’m here. I’m your Court Appointed Special Advocate but we shorten that to CASA. Has anyone explained to you what that means?”

A quick shake of her head was the only answer given.

“The judge in your case assigned me to work with you, talk with you, and make sure you are safe. I will be interviewing your teachers and parents to get a good idea of how things are with you so that when I make my report to the judge, he will have your interests in mind.”

The young teen sat stoically, not responding.

“Betina, I was noticing that this seemed like a pretty nice house. I grew up in foster care and had a few nice ones, but also had some that were not so nice. Do you like it here?”

A short nod was the only answer.

Sherrie continued as though the girl had given her a dissertation. “Good, I’m glad. Are you in the same school as before?”

A shake of her head gave her nonverbal acknowledgement. “Is that hard, moving to a different school?”

For the briefest of moments, Sherrie saw a flash of regret pass through Betina’s eyes before being quickly replaced by practiced indifference.

Jumping on that, she moved the conversation to school. After several minutes, Betina seemed to relax a bit and actually answered a few questions about classes.

After a slight pause, Betina looked out of the kitchen window and simply said, “Art. My favorite class.”

“Do you have any drawings?” Sherrie asked, trying to keep Betina from shutting her out again. “I’d love to see anything you’ve done. I’m afraid I’m not very artistic myself but love to look at other’s work.”

Looking furtively around again, the teenager pulled out a small notebook from her backpack and pushed it across the table to Sherrie. Thrilled that she had made the slightest inroads with her, she eagerly opened the notebook. The pages were filled with pencil drawings, with clear lines and incredible detail. Most of the drawings were of people’s faces, with a few scenes depicted amongst them.

Several were of other teen girls and boys, and a few adults mixed in. Mesmerized at the intricate drawings, she asked if they were her friends.

Another emotion flashed through Betina’s eyes and Sherrie could have sworn she saw fear for a moment. Years of working in seedy bars to make money to go to college had Sherrie an expert in reading expressions, but she had to admit that Betina’s ability to cover up quickly made it difficult to ascertain what she was thinking.

“Some,” came the simple answer.

“Well, they’re amazing. Really beautiful. How do you capture their faces in such detail?”

Betina smiled for the first time and Sherrie wondered if praise was something that the young girl rarely received. Shrugging, Betina just added, “I watch people. I see them.”

“You see them?” Sherrie prodded.

“You know. Like really see them. The inside of them,” came the halting answers.

“Well, they are phenomenal.” Sensing that she had gotten all out of the young woman that she was going to get, she patted her hand as she pushed the notebook back across the table, noting Betina’s aversion to the touch on her hand.

Filing that away for future reference, she stood saying, “Goodbye for now and I’ll be by to see you again in a day or so,” carefully watching the expression on her face.

Betina did not smile but gave the slightest encouraging nod, which Sherrie took as a positive. Back in the office that afternoon, she met with Simon going over the interview with Betina.

“I know there is something going on and I wish she would open up,” she said.

“She lived with her mom and a man they called her stepdad, but he and mom never married. He runs some local businesses in the area. Pays his taxes and doesn’t seem to have anything going on with him.”

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