Page 82 of Martha Calhoun

“Oh, come on,” groaned Bunny.

I was afraid Judge Horner was going to throw her out, but he just asked if she wanted to comment.

“We weren’t any worse than a lot of other families,” Bunny said. “I know my son used to get in trouble, but so did a lot of other boys. The difference was that whenever anything went wrong in this town, the police would come knocking at our door, blaming Tom.”

“Do you want to dispute any of these incidents?” the judge asked. “Mr. Moon is putting them in the record, and I’d be perfectly willing to listen to your challenges.”

“Awww, what good would it do? You need a lawyer to dispute and mine isn’t here.”

“I’ve explained you don’t need a lawyer in juvenile court.”

“Well, he’s got one.” Bunny wagged her thumb at Sergeant Tony.

“Mrs. Calhoun,” said the judge, raising his voice, “I’m not in the habit of arguing about something that’s already been settled.”

“Jeeezzz,” hissed Bunny, looking away.

“Ah, perhaps we could go on,” said Mr. Moon.

Judge Horner nodded.

“Your honor, I wasn’t happy about the direction this case was taking even before the girl showed up last night in Banyon’s Woods,” the prosecutor said. “I know Mrs. O’Brien had some hope, but I frankly didn’t see it. Look at the facts. We put her in a foster home and twice she goes off on a visit with her mother. Each time, they end up in a police report. What kind of a message is Mrs. Calhoun giving us?”

The lawyer paused to see if the judge would respond. When nothing happened, he went on. “The issue in this proceeding is whether the county is justified in intruding into the familial relationship. Obviously, we don’t want to do that except in the most aggravated circumstances. But that’s what we’ve got here. I look down the road and see nothing but trouble for this girl.” He glanced quickly in my direction. “The question is, your honor, is the girl getting the kind of supervision and guidance at home that will ultimately be in her best interests? The answer is obviously no. Not only has Mrs. Calhoun raised one son who was a constant problem for the police and the people of this town, but when her other child gets in trouble, Mrs. Calhoun just acts more irresponsibly. She gets more reckless.”

Bunny snorted and crossed her arms and legs. Her head sank into her shoulders.

The prosecutor looked down, rubbing the bridge between his eyes. When he looked up, he sighed. “Let me get it all out and on the record,” he said. “I’m sorry to bring it up in front of the girl, but it’s relevant to this matter. Two weeks ago, your honor, you yourself told Mrs. Calhoun to settle her affairs. Everyone in the courtroom knew exactly what you meant. Well, she hasn’t settled her affairs, not by a long shot. Ever since her daughter moved out, Mrs. Calhoun has been maintaining an open and adulterous relationship with Edward Boggs. The neighbors know about it, the community knows about it, the police know about it. She stays overnight at his house, and sometimes he stays with her.” The lawyer shook his head again. “It’s, it’s … it’s enough to make you sick, your honor—and this, when her family is at stake.”

Bunny thrashed in her chair, crossing and uncrossing her legs and shifting from one side to the other. Judge Horner asked if she wanted to say something.

“Yes, your honor. I want to say, ‘So what?’ ” She sat up and pushed her head toward the judge. “So what? Lots of people who aren’t married have friends, and what’s wrong with that? I mean, we aren’t in Russia here. These have been very hard times for me. First you send my son to jail. All right, so he had problems, but he was my son. And now you take away my daughter. What do you expect me to do? I felt empty, unhinged. I hated stepping into my house. Without my children, I didn’t want to live there. I thought about burning it down, I really did. I needed someone to talk to, and Eddie was there. He was the only one. My mother’s dead, you know.” She paused. Her tongue darted out and moistened her lips. “Of course,” she went on, “if my daughter comes back, I won’t need Eddie anymore. I can live without him. Once Martha comes home, he’s out of my life forever.”

Judge Horner stared down evenly at Bunny. He had on the same checkered sports jacket that he’d worn at my first hearing. I remembered how innocent and unprotected he’d looked at the restaurant, in his white shirt and brown tie.

“Can I ask Mrs. Calhoun something?” said Mr. Moon. He was still standing.

“Certainly.”

The lawyer turned to face Bunny. “Mrs. Calhoun, are you married?”

“Of course not. My husband left home years ago.”

“Let me put it this way, Mrs. Calhoun. Are you divorced?”

“Well—”

The lawyer turned back to the judge. “That’s adultery, your honor. What kind of example is that for a child?”

“I couldn’t afford a divorce,” shouted Bunny.

“All right, Mrs. Calhoun,” said the judge, motioning for her to calm down. “Let’s put that behind us for the time being. Let’s hear from you, Mrs. O’Brien.”

The social worker pushed herself up quickly from her chair. Her green shift rose and fell as her chest heaved. She looked at the judge and sighed, puffing her cheeks and blowing out air noisily. “I feel defeated, Judge Horner,” she said. “There’s no easy way to put it. I feel defeated.”

“Go on,” said the judge.

“I don’t want to make excuses. The simple fact is that I haven’t made any difference.” She spoke i

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