“Please wake up, mommy!  It’s me – Levi.  I promise I’ll be a good boy!”

Why won’t she get up off the cabin floor?  I’ve been calling her name forever, but she’s still not answering me.  I’m getting scared because it’s dark and cold in here.  Where are we again?  I think I should go and get help, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.  If I leave, maybe she will get mad when she wakes up and finds out that I left her all alone out here in the woods – wherever we are.

 Am I on the right path to get back to the main road?  I can’t remember which path we took after mom wrecked the car.  I hope I can find my way to the road, because I’m pretty sure we need help.  But what if it’s a bad guy that stops?  I’m so tired.  I’ve been walking for so long.  Why does my head feel so fuzzy?  Oh yeah, I bumped it when mom ran our car into the ditch.  I feel dizzy.  Mom’s water tasted icky.  What was in there? 

I think maybe I should go back to the cabin because mom is going to get mad at me for leaving.  She gets mad a lot these days.  Wait – are those headlights?

* * *

Judge Binnard fastened his black robe, and in doing so he immediately commanded the attention of every lawyer seated in his courtroom. 

“In the matter of Cassie S.  Counsel, state your appearances for the record.” 

“Your Honor, Macy Green of the Public Defender’s Office, appearing on behalf of the mother.  Your Honor, before we begin I have to get on the record that this case is nothing more than a horrible tragedy.  Car accidents happen every day, and my client was merely a passenger in a car driven by her father.  The only thing that could possibly make this accident different from any of the many others is the fact that my client’s infant died.  My client is grieving this loss now, and should be allowed to focus on the pending funeral – not the justice system.  She is distraught beyond words –”

“Save it for the trial, Ms. Green,” Judge Binnard interrupted.  “Today’s only the detention hearing, and as you know has an extremely low burden of proof.  You should know better.”  It was obvious to the judge that Macy was trying to put on a show for her client, and Judge Binnard disliked such theatrics in his courtroom.  He’d worked juvenile cases for the past twenty years in the quaint Wyoming town of Sheridan, and had become well aware of the unique emotional environment involved in these sorts of child abuse cases.  He was not about to let anyone in his court try to misuse that emotion in an attempt to bypass the relevant rules of law.

“Your Honor, please let me –”

“Ms. Green, we haven’t even made it through introductions.  Don’t push me today.”  The judge knew that courtroom control was always important in these cases, but even more so today; he was not willing to risk losing any control over the attorneys when it came time to call the pending Levi L. case. 

“With all due respect, Your Honor, my client desperately needs you to understand that –”

“Understand what?  That she was traveling with an infant on her lap in the front passenger seat of a car?  That she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt?  That she failed to secure any of her three other children with seatbelts either, before her drunk father T-boned a pickup truck?  Or did she want me to understand that she’s had four previous DUI’s, which now puts her in a dead heat with her father, who was just issued his fourth?”  Judge Binnard looked disapprovingly at Ms. Green before he continued, “Are you actually suggestion that despite all that, your client’s three surviving children should be returned to her under the theory that they are not in substantial danger of physical or emotional harm while in her care?”  Judge Binnard didn’t have to think long or hard to come up with the answer to that question. 

“But, Your Honor, I feel obligated to address the issue of detention of these three children on the record,” Macy Green whined. 

“Ms. Green, I suggest you exert your energy on ensuring that your client obtains the alcohol treatment she obviously needs.  I know your client was also drunk that night, and I also know that her license has been revoked for too many DUI convictions.  Perhaps her reasoning was impaired by the alcohol, but the fact remains that she made an irresponsible choice that ended the life of a newborn.  She’s lucky that her other three children were not more seriously injured.  These facts alone make the detention of your client’s other children a foregone conclusion.” 

Judge Binnard was normally extremely gracious to the parents on his docket, and he was well known amongst local attorneys to bend over backwards to provide parents every possible opportunity to reunify with their children.  Cases such as Cassie’s, however, provoked an entirely different reaction in him.   

“But Your Honor,” Macy Green began before she noticed the angry expression on the judge’s face.  Although she’d only been working the juvenile calendar for a few months, she’d learned enough to realize when to cut her losses.  She longed for the day when she’d complete the mandatory juvenile court rotation and return to the land of murderers, rapists, and thieves.  Juvenile cases were simply too draining.  “I apologize, Your Honor,” she said as she wisely took her seat next to her client.

“Ms. Green, you’ve certainly heard my lecture before.  We need a license to drive, marry, and vote.  If we choose a particular career path, we’re obligated to pursue proper schooling, degrees and certifications.  The most important field in life, and the one that ties all of these possibilities together, is being a parent – a good parent.  Regrettably, there’s absolutely no training or other prerequisites involved with beginning the biological process of swapping DNA. 

Judge Binnard’s voice turned slightly softer, and he looked pointedly at the public defender in front of him.  “I know you’re new to my court, Ms. Green, but you’ve been here long enough to know my position when it comes to parental responsibility.  Parents need to take their responsibilities more seriously, especially when the unfortunate has occurred and one or more of their children have already been removed from their home.    If a parent in my courtroom doesn’t exert every single effort into fulfilling their duties as a parent, they have no hope of regaining custody in their case.  Sadly, baby Cassie is never going to be able to return home.  Mrs. Sheldon’s three surviving children will not go home either, until she proves to me that she is capable of fulfilling her parental obligations.  Next case.”

Mary MacIntosh sat in awe as she watched the proceedings unfold.  She took copious notes because in her fifteen years as an attorney, she’d not once handled a juvenile matter.  She knew that whatever information she could glean from these initial cases on the docket would help her when Levi’s case was called.  Her big, brown eyes shot wide open as she listened to Judge Binnard rule on the Cassie S. matter in such a swift and assertive manner.   She began to doubt her decision to accept representation of her newest and youngest client, ten-year-old Levi.

When Mary MacIntosh told her law partner about her desire to expand their criminal and civil defense firm, Harry’s response was immediate.  “Let me guess, Mac,” he said in his predictably sarcastic fashion, “your body clock is ticking and you think that hanging around abused or neglected kids will fill that void until that selfish boyfriend of yours finally commits to having a family with you.”  Mac defended her choices to Harry by rationalizing how important it was to provide community service.  Harry didn’t buy it for a minute.

Mac had worked for Harry her entire legal career and was accustomed to his fatherly disposition.  Harry partnered the Jackson Hole office, while Mac managed the Sheridan office, making their long-distance legal partnership a respectfully healthy one.  After winning a large verdict in an environmental case, Harry gave Mac complete freedom to choose the types of cases she wished to champion, but that didn’t restrain Harry from offering his advice.  Mac, a forty-year-old single, attractive woman with long auburn hair and warm, brown eyes, valued her distinguished boss, as Harry held great respect from all members of the legal community.

As Mac listened to the juvenile court calendar, she considered Harry’s comments regarding her motive for defending Levi.  Maybe Harry was right.  She had no experience in this area of the law, and Levi’s case appeared to be complicated and high profile.  She had studied as much about this area of law as she possibly could in preparation for today, but was still having trouble understanding how the county attorney could prosecute these types of cases while balancing two distinctly different and competing interests:  prosecuting parents for their criminally neglectful or abusive parenting, while also promoting reunification of the family unit. 

“In the matter of Theresa D.,” the county attorney called out the next case without skipping a beat.  Karl Swensen had served as Sheridan’s county attorney for nearly twenty years and had practiced before Judge Binnard most of his career.  They had a respectful rapport despite the fact that they shared very little in common.  Karl was a right-winged Republican, with a strong belief in the death penalty, strict judicial sentencing, tough love parenting, and stream-lined budgeting.  He was tall and lean, with sharp features, contrasted with Judge Binnard’s stout frame and round face.

“Judge, I will submit on detention in this case,” Macy Green stated, though not quite as firmly as she had in the Cassie S. case.  “But as to visitation, however, I’d request –”

“Forget it, counsel.  Your client was charged with impregnating his fourteen-year-old daughter.  No visitation.  We’ll set statutory trial dates.  Next case.”

“In the matter of Sara Q.,” Judge Binnard called without missing a beat.

“Your Honor, detention is not an issue in this case.  The minor is sixteen and refuses to live with her father,” Karl Swensen said.  “Sara ran away after her father caught her on MySpace and decided to beat her up for it.  Sara wants to stay at the shelter and doesn’t want any form of visitation until her dad has completed anger management counseling.  The People request statutory dates.”

And so the calendar continued.  Mac sat and listened, taking notes as to the procedure of Judge Binnard’s court.  She wore her form-fitting navy suit with a cream blouse, pearl earrings and necklace from her grandmother’s estate, and navy heels.  As she sat in the back of the courtroom, her thoughts slowly drifted to her current love life and whether she’d ever satisfy her maternal instincts.  When Judge Binnard called the Landers case, Mac was caught off guard and jumped in her seat.

“In the matter of Levi L.,” Judge Binnard announced.  The courtroom clerk motioned to the judge and the two of them began to whisper.  The clerk picked up the phone and spoke softly into it while cupping the receiver.  A minute later, the door to the judge’s chambers cracked open and a small boy with blond, curly hair and emerald eyes slowly approached the clerk.  An extremely large woman escorted the little boy to the left side of the courtroom and showed him a shelf of toys.  Judge Binnard was quiet as he watched the boy sheepishly select a Hardy Boys book.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Kelly,” Judge Binnard said to the rotund woman, before turning his attention to the little boy.  “And you must be Levi.”

The little boy looked up and nodded. 

“Have you ever been in a courtroom before?” 

Levi shook his head. 

“No?  Well, let me introduce myself.  I’m Judge Binnard, and this is my courtroom.  I’m very pleased to meet you, and I want you to know that you’re in a very safe place right now.  You can tell us anything you want here.  If you’d feel more comfortable talking to me up here, then you can sit next to me behind the bench.  Or you could chat with my clerk, Joanne, who has seventeen grandchildren of her own.”  Joanne gave Levi a little grandmotherly smile and wave.  “I’ve already appointed you your very own attorney, Mary MacIntosh, and she’s here today to be something we call a ‘guardian ad litem,’ but that’s a rather big and awkward word, isn’t it?  We chatted already, and she told me that you could just call her Mac, okay?  Ms. MacIntosh, will you please step forward?”

Mac walked up the center aisle of the courtroom and pushed open the countertop-high gallery door with her knee.  She walked up to Levi and kneeled down before him while extending her hand.  Levi looked at Mac’s hand held in front on him briefly before quickly turning his attention to Mrs. Kelly and then back up towards the judge. 

“It’s okay, Levi,” Judge Binnard prodded.  “Ms. MacIntosh is here to help.  You can shake her hand.”

Levi tentatively reached his small hand out toward Mac and gently shook her hand.  As Mac made this initial contact, she couldn’t ignore the dirt under his fingernails and the deep scrape on his thumb.  Mac looked into his eyes and offered a warm smile.  His sallow skin flushed as he garnered a half-grin, and then, suddenly, his look changed.  The half-grin turned into a scowl and Levi jerked his hand away.  Mac tried not to react to this behavior and instead began asking him questions about the things he liked, such as sports or cars or playing with other kids.  Levi did not answer her questions.  As they faced off in an awkward silence, Mac noticed how frail Levi looked in his tan pants cinched tightly at the waist. 

“How old are you?” Mac asked.  “Let me guess.  Twelve?”  She knew that he had just turned ten but was hoping to earn brownie points for guessing too high. 

“I-I-I’m ten,” Levi stammered. 

“Wow, you’re really mature for a ten-year-old,” Mac countered.  “I see you’ve chosen a Hardy Boys book,” she said, turning the book in her direction.  “That’s pretty tough reading for a boy your age.  You must be really smart.”  Levi began to smile a little bit at this comment, perhaps a bit broader than before.  “When I was a little girl, I read every Nancy Drew book I could find.  My brother read Hardy Boys.  We used to argue over who was the better detective.  Maybe you can tell me about the book after you’ve read it.”  Levi looked to the side, afraid to commit.  Mac offered him the book back and he grabbed it.  She let go, and gently patted him on the shoulder.

Mac stood and looked at the judge, unsure about the next courtroom procedure.  Judge Binnard made some legal findings on the record as the court reporter pressed the keys of her stenographer machine. 

“Ms. MacIntosh, you’ll need to schedule a time to meet with Levi at the foster mother’s house.  You can follow Mrs. Kelly into my chambers to make those arrangements.  The meeting can be now, if that works with everyone’s schedule.  I will make all appropriate rulings, and Macy Green will call you with future court dates.  I will ensure monitored visitation and a no-discussion order, so that no one may discuss the matter with Levi unless you are present.”  The judge’s voice softened somewhat as he continued.  “Thank you for agreeing to take this case.  It’s going to be a complicated one, I think.” 

With that, Mrs. Kelly took Levi by the hand and motioned for Mac to follow them through the judge’s private entrance.  After Levi was out of earshot, Judge Binnard finished the hearing.  

“Bailiff, you can escort the parents into the courtroom now.”  The bailiff’s voice boomed out into the hallway, requesting that the Landers parents join the hearing. 

Evelyn Landers walked in alone.  It was immediately apparent that she was not typical of the mothers in Judge Binnard’s juvenile cases.  Her five-foot-one-inch frame was sheathed in a beautiful St. John knit black pantsuit, while her medium-length, dark hair was stylishly layered and tucked behind her ears.   Her makeup was lightly applied, with a sheer lipstick in a neutral shade.  She gracefully sat down in the front row next to a gentleman. 

“Ms. Green, since Mary MacIntosh is representing Levi, I assume that you will be representing the other three Landers children?” Judge Binnard asked.

“Yes, Your Honor.  I accept appointment as counsel for Austen Landers, age sixteen, Ben Landers, age fourteen, and Lauren Landers, age twelve.  If a conflict arises, I will advise the court immediately.”

“Thank you.  I assume that Dr. and Mrs. Landers have each hired private counsel?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” a voice said from the front row of the courtroom.  A tall, red-haired man stood and straightened his gray tie.  “Harold Neiman on behalf of Dr. and Mrs. Landers.”

“Mr. Neiman, I’m afraid that you are not going to be able to represent both parents in this case, as Dr. Landers and Mrs. Landers most likely have divergent interests in this matter.  Have you spoken with your clients about this possibility?”

“Yes, Your Honor.  If a conflict arises, I will represent Mrs. Landers only.  Dr. Landers has agreed to retain his own counsel at that point in time.” 

Evelyn Landers shifted in her seat looking nervous, unsure as to whether she should remain seated or stand up beside her lawyer.

“That time is now,” Judge Binnard said.  “I assume that you’ve had an opportunity and a desire to read the social worker’s report in this case?  Mrs. Landers is being accused, among other things, of deliberately poisoning her son with perphenazine.  Now, our justice system presumes her innocence, of course.  But the court must assume that Dr. Landers has an opinion on this subject that may not favor his wife.”

“Your Honor, you are assuming –,” Harold Neiman started.

“Please approach the counsel table when addressing the court,” Judge Binnard brusquely interjected. 

Harold Neiman walked forward and stood next to Macy Green.  “I’ve read the jurisdiction report and there is nothing in there that even hints that these allegations are true or that Dr. Landers has any interest other than those of his family.”

“Mr. Neiman, it is readily apparent to me that the parents have conflicting interests.  You may represent Mrs. Evelyn Landers.  Dr. Luke Landers will have to hire his own lawyer.  I assume he can afford one, correct?” 

The county attorney smirked at the suggestion.  Dr. Landers was the top-paid OB/GYN in Sheridan County, and perhaps in all of Wyoming. 

“He can afford his own lawyer, Your Honor, but Luke and Evelyn Landers are a united front.  They support one another one hundred and fifty percent and are absolutely positive that the petition will ultimately be dismissed with Mrs. Landers being exonerated on all charges against her.  Dr. Landers fully supports her position and has signed a waiver of conflict –”

“Mr. Neiman, you are an experienced lawyer, right?” 

Harold Neiman looked quizzically at the judge. 

“I know that you are.  It was a rhetorical question.  I knew your dad, and if you are anything like him, you could run circles around half the attorneys in this town.  But there is one thing I can assure you.  Mothers and fathers often disagree on childrearing – even when they are happily married and live a united front.  When one parent is accused of a crime against one of their children, there is a substantial probability that this united front may fraction.  If and when it does, I don’t want you crawling into court begging to be relieved as counsel.  Therefore, I’m telling you now that you must make a choice as to whom you wish to represent.”

“Fine.  I will represent Mrs. Landers,” Harold huffed in response.  “ I’ll call John Trainor and let him know that he will be representing Dr. Landers.  We talked about the possibility before the hearing.”

“Very well,” Judge Binnard said.  “Speaking of which, where is Dr. Landers?”  The judge looked around the courtroom in an exaggerated fashion before focusing his attention squarely at Evelyn. 

Evelyn stood and slowly approached Harold Neiman, nervously glancing at the judge and her lawyer, wondering whether she should answer.

“He-he’s delivering a baby.  It was an emergency C-section.  He couldn’t be here.”

“He has medical partners, doesn’t he?” Judge Binnard asked.

Evelyn looked surprised by the question.  “Well, yes.”

“And his medical partners are qualified to perform C-sections, correct?”

“Of course,” Evelyn stiffly replied to the judge’s challenge.  Her jaw clenched and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Then the next time we have a hearing and I order Levi’s parents to attend, please communicate to the good doctor that I mean both parents.  Surely, his son’s well-being is more important than the almighty dollar.”

“Your Honor,” Evelyn started, “I don’t like what you are –”

“What my client means, Your Honor,” Harold Neiman interrupted, “is that Dr. Landers will be at the next hearing.  Thank you.”

“This case may prove to be logistically difficult, counsel.  We are going to have to be mindful of the fact that children are going to be asked to testify about both their parents and siblings.  Levi will not be allowed in any hearings involving this detailed sort of testimony or when either of his parents are present, though, because that will clearly be too stressful for him.  Dr. Landers will need to be apprised of this.”  Judge Binnard firmly stacked a file of papers on his desk and closed his manila folder.  His clerk quickly whispered something to him, reminding him that he needed to set further hearing dates and make findings regarding visitation.

“Oh yes,” the judge continued.  “With respect to visitation orders, the court orders that Levi remain in foster care pending disposition and that Mrs. Landers be allowed monitored visitation three times per week for two hours a visit.  Dr. Landers’ visitation will be addressed at the next hearing when his lawyer is present.  Mrs. Landers is ordered not to discuss the facts of the case with Levi when visiting.  Our next hearing will be next Tuesday in order to further address visitation and discovery.  We are adjourned for lunch.” 

“But Your Honor,” Harold Neiman said, “Mrs. Landers is an extremely involved mother who needs more than just a routine visitation schedule.  She’s a stay-at-home mom who has been Levi’s sole caretaker his whole life.  She’s in the PTA and is also on the Chamber of Commerce, the Women’s Charity League, active in her church and serves –”

“Save it for the trial, counsel.  She could be Mother Theresa, Mr. Neiman, but if she has done what the petition alleges, then she is going to face losing her parental rights.  This hearing is adjourned.”

Evelyn turned to Harold Neiman and whispered in his ear while gesticulating with her right hand and shaking her head.

“Your Honor, Mrs. Landers is not happy that she is being forced to see her son in the presence of a monitor, and is upset that her husband is disallowed visitation for a week.  She feels that he has constitutional rights to see his son and that you are depriving him of those rights.”

Judge Binnard took a slow, deep breath through his nose – so loud in fact that the microphone on his desk made a piercing, windy sound.  Harold knew he was in for a tongue-lashing, and his shoulders hunched toward his ears as he awaited the verbal assault.

“Mrs. Landers is upset?  Well, so am I.  I’m irked that her husband didn’t bother showing up.  I’m irked that I went out of my way to hold this hearing over the lunch hour so that she could be afforded privacy.  I’m irked that my staff is missing out on their constitutionalright to eat their lunch in peace and quiet.   You can tell your client to voice her ire to her husband outside of my courtroom and after this hearing is over.”

With that, Judge Binnard removed his reading glasses and stood.  He quickly whispered something to his clerk, unsnapped his robe, and then exited the courtroom.

Evelyn Landers turned to her attorney and said, “You told me that I’d get my son back today and that the state had no case against me.  What kind of attorney are you?”

After pointedly collecting the papers in front of him into his briefcase and closing it, Harold Neiman turned to his client with a somber expression and said, “The only attorney in town who is willing to defend you.”