Page 83 of Brother to Brother

“Your Honor, my office, the department of children’s health services, received a call from the plaintiffs in this matter stating that Noah Beswick had been kidnapped from their care and was currently with his mother, Melody Beswick, who was supposedly negligent, abusive, and according to the call, a substance abuser.”

“And you went to investigate I imagine?”

“I did.”

“And for the record, what did you find?”

“I found Ms. Beswick and her son moving out of a one bedroom apartment that very day. Ms. Beswick informed me that she was now Mrs. Turner, and not only offered to take any drug tests we asked for, but asked me if I would like to see the home that she and Mr. Turner were moving their son Noah –”

My mother got up shrieking, “My grandson isnotthat man’s son! That boy’s father died! How dare you, madam!”

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The Judge banged his gavel and glared at my mother, “How dareyou, madam. Sit down! Mr. Price, one more outburst like that from your client, I’ll hold her in contempt. Do I make myself clear?”

My parent’s lawyer stood up hastily, “Understood, Judge. My apologies to you and the court.”

He sat down and started whispering furiously to my mother who practically wailed into my stepfather’s shoulder. Archer gave my hand a squeeze as Phil just glared at me like this was somehow all my fault. My mind, not for the first time, was absolutely boggled.

“You were saying Ms. Washington?” the Judge asked.

“Yes, Your Honor, as I was saying, I took them up on their offer and I have to say I was suitably impressed. Not only had they completely baby proofed the house by having child locks on every cabinet, they also had socket covers installed in every electrical outlet. The boy’s uncle, Logan Fisher, had even constructed a rather impressive race car shaped bed from one solid piece of wood citing that there would be no nails or screws for the child to become injured by, nor were there any parts of the bed joined together to pinch little fingers or toes.”

“Ha,” the Judge said in disbelief, “Now that’s dedication.”

“Yes, Your Honor. There should be photos included in that report of the steep measures taken to keep Noah safe in the home. Quite frankly, I wish every household adhered to the same example.”

The Judge swept through the files in front of him and took long moments pondering over both notes and photographs.

“So I take it you found the allegations the plaintiffs alleged to be false in one visit?”

“Yes, Your Honor, however, to be safe I asked Mr. and Mrs. Turner for a return visit inside a three month window.”

“And how did they respond?”

“Favorably, Your Honor, they invited me to come into their home whenever I liked.”

“That’s different,” the Judge muttered.

“Agreed, Judge.”

“And you made a return visit?”

“I did, Judge.”

“And how were things then?”

“Much the same if not further improved, Judge. Mr. and Mrs. Turner maintain a beautiful home, and I found Noah to be one healthy and very happy little boy.”

“You have anything you’d like to add, then Ms. Washington?”

“Yes, Judge. In all my time as a social worker in this county, I’ve never seen anything quite like this. I truly believe that the plaintiffs in this case are using the system to terrorize Mrs. Turner with the threat of taking her child away as a form of some kind of twisted punishment because Mrs. Turner doesn’t hold the same family views as the plaintiffs. I see absolutely nothing wrong with how Mrs. Turner is raising her child, and I feel sick watching the fear and agony she has had to go through as a result of this debacle.”

“Alright, thank you, Ms. Washington.”

“You’re welcome, Judge.”

The Judge sat back and I swear, I felt the first ray of hope peeking through the clouds since I first took Noah and ran from Arizona. He turned to my lawyer and said, “I think I might like to hear from Mrs. Turner herself, now,” his steely gaze shifted to me, “Mrs. Turner, would you come up here please?”

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