Autumn Blue (10 page)

“Young man, please state your whole name for the court.”

Ty leaned into the microphone on the table in front of him. “Tyson Holyfield Walker.”

The fifty-something judge peered over his glasses. “I’m not even going to ask.”

Sidney still resented Dodge for insisting on that name for their son. She knew Holyfield was her ex’s favorite boxer, having
become world heavyweight champ not long before Tyson was born. It wasn’t until Evander Holyfield, a born-again Christian,
had to have his ear sewn back together after convicted criminal Mike Tyson bit off a chunk in their famous 1997 rematch that
Sidney realized why Dodge had insisted on Tyson for a first name. It seemed Ty was doomed to a life of conflict between good
and evil from the start.

The prosecutor, Mrs. Rayburn, a prim-looking woman in her forties, stood to read the charges against him. “Your Honor, the
defendant is charged with count one attempted first-degree robbery. On August 10, with intent to commit a robbery, Mr. Walker
entered Graber’s Market in Ham Bone, stashed merchandise inside his clothing, including a bottle of alcohol, and attempted
to leave the premises. He was apprehended by the store owner, at which time Mr. Walker threatened the victim with a previously
concealed weapon. The victim managed to knock the gun from the defendant’s hand and the defendant fled the scene.” She dropped
her papers to the desk in front of her.

It was a pellet gun, Sidney’s mind screamed. Tell the court that! That it shot little hot-pink plastic balls. Oh, please,
God, don’t make him go to jail. Ty was too vulnerable right now. It seemed to her that sticking him in with a bunch of other
angry, messed-up kids could only make things worse.

“Mr. Walker,” the judge said, “do you understand the charges against you?”

Ty nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“This is a very serious crime, punishable by up to five years in adult prison. Has your attorney informed you of your rights
in this matter?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And how do you plead?”

“Guilty, Your Honor.” His voice cracked.

The prosecuting attorney spoke again. “Your Honor, the State is advising that Mr. Walker be held in confinement at the county
Juvenile Detention facility for the maximum standard period of thirty-six weeks.”

The numbers whirled like dry leaves in Sidney’s head as she tried to do the math.

Tyson’s probation counselor stood next. Sidney and Ty had met with him only once before Ty ran away. He had seemed like a
decent man, but tough. “Your Honor, the defendant was duly advised of the possible repercussions of breaking court orders
when I met with him after his arraignment. He returned to school when it started in September, but within four days picked
a fight with another student and took a swing at the teacher who tried to break it up. He then ran away from the school and
was missing for eleven days until his arrest on September 20. I concur with Mrs. Rayburn except, considering the fact that
this is the defendant’s first offense, I think his detainment could be cut down to the minimum standard of fifteen weeks.”

A minimum of three and a half months in jail or eight-plus max. Sidney’s limbs went limp. Oh, God, could he survive it? Could
she?

When the counselor finished, Leonard stood, still flipping through his papers as if something might jump out at him that he
hadn’t previously considered. It wasn’t fair that their case had been handed over to this rookie at the last minute. At least
Sybil had sounded somewhat competent.

“Your Honor,” Leonard finally said, “what we have here is a young man who made a stupid mistake, and he knows it. If you read
the letters that he wrote to the victim and the court in this case, you’ll see that he is truly remorseful. Mr. Walker had
no intention of threatening anyone with the pellet gun, which, by the way, he had not considered a real weapon due to the
fact that it shoots only plastic beads. He realizes now, of course, that ignorance is no excuse for breaking the law. According
to his statement, the gun had been in his pocket simply because he and his friends had been playing war in the woods earlier
that day. He can provide witnesses to attest to that. I apologize for not having affidavits, Your Honor; this case was just
passed to me this morning.”

Sidney and Millard exchanged hopeful glances. The kid was doing all right.

Leonard ran his hand through his mop of dark hair. “Tyson has been in confinement for eight days, Your Honor. He tells me
he’s learned his lesson and that he will do anything to keep from going back to jail. Based on his repentant attitude and
the fact that this is his first offense—after which he did turn himself in to the sheriff without force—I propose the following:
not fifteen weeks but the entire thirty-six, deferred dependent on his adherence to all court stipulations during that thirty-six-week
period, along with forty hours of community service. The defendant has strong family support.” Leonard glanced over his shoulder.
“His mother and his grandfather are here in the courtroom. I suggest that my client be allowed to walk out of here in their
custody today.”

Tyson turned around to get a good look at the grandfather he didn’t know he had. Sidney caught his eye, shrugging ever so
slightly.

The judge raised one eyebrow, peering over his glasses at Leonard. “A slap on the knuckles considering the crime, don’t you
think, Mr. Eggebraten?”

Sidney could see only the back of Leonard’s head, but he held it high. “Yes, Your Honor, but I feel strongly that locking
the boy up will do more harm than good in this case.”

At that moment Sidney wanted to run up there and hug their scraggly young attorney. The judge perused Tyson’s file, making
notes. He finally lifted his head.

“Let’s make it a one-year sentence. Since the minimum recommended detainment for count one attempted first-degree robbery
is fifteen weeks, I’m going to require the defendant to do that much time, but at school and at home. You are not to be anywhere
but those two places for the next fifteen weeks; do you understand, Mr. Walker?”

Tyson nodded. Leonard elbowed him. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Mr. Walker, that means if you fail to abide by every stipulation of this court within the next year, you will be arrested
and put behind bars to complete your sentence. You will be accountable to an assigned probation officer, who will give you
a call within the next couple of days. In addition to his recommendations, this court mandates forty hours of community service
and a fine of $100 to be paid to the crime victims’ fund.” The judge adjusted his glasses and flipped through the file for
a moment. “That is, assuming there is adequate adult supervision at home. Otherwise, those fifteen weeks will have to be done
in confinement.”

Sidney’s mind began to spin. She couldn’t be there! She had her job.

Tyson whispered something to his attorney. Leonard leaned over and Sidney watched his profile. His brows drew together and
he ran his hand over his mouth. “Your Honor, may I have a moment to confer with my client and his mother?”

“Certainly.”

At his beckoning, Sidney stepped forward and sat in a vacant chair to Leonard’s left.

“Mrs. Walker,” he whispered, “we have two issues here. The first one is that you work full-time. The judge is not going to
agree to leaving Tyson unsupervised. Second, Ty tells me he’s been expelled from school for this entire semester. That’s going
to be major. The court is adamant about kids getting their education.”

Sidney’s heart sank. “What can we do?”

“How about Grandpa? Is there any reason he can’t take responsibility for Tyson while you’re at work?”

She sighed, her eyes meeting Ty’s questioning stare. “Mr. Bradbury is not actually related. He’s just a close neighbor.”

Leonard winced and blew out a stream of air. “Okay, great. I just lied to the judge.” He glanced back at Millard. “Do you
think he’d agree to watch out for him?”

Sidney shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know.”

Leonard motioned for Mr. Bradbury to join them. Millard stared at him blankly for a moment, and then turned to look over his
shoulder for someone else the attorney might be summoning. The poor man. Sidney had not only inconvenienced him, but now it
seemed she had lured him from his comfort zone to the dangerous edge of a cliff. She pleaded with apologetic eyes. The grooves
in his face seemed to deepen as he stood, slowly making his way to the front of the courtroom. He leaned forward, resting
his long arms on the table.

“Mr. Bradbury, we have a situation here,” Leonard said in a hushed voice. “Ty can’t stay home unsupervised while his mom is
at work. Are you home during the day?”

Millard recoiled. “Well, yes, but—”

“Here’s the deal. You heard what the judge said. He’s going to send him out of here today in shackles and lock him up for
three and a half months unless we can come up with a plan.”

Millard’s mouth hung open. He began to stammer, his gaze falling on Tyson, whose face was expressionless. He didn’t even know
the kid. “There must be someone else . . .”

Sidney shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Bradbury. Millard. I’m so sorry to even put you in this position.”

His eyes said it all. He looked at her like a cornered wild thing, his unruly brows clenched in worry. Clearly he wanted no
part in this and she didn’t blame him one bit. His lips parted several times as if he wanted to say something, but no words
came out. Ty was sizing the old man up, looking a little worried himself. Finally, Millard just shook his head.

“All right,” Leonard said. “Does anybody have a plan B?”

Sidney’s mind raced through her options in two seconds flat. Her mother lived in Ohio. Besides, even if she was willing to
fly out to Washington, her mom was already obligated to watch her sister Alana’s kids while Alana was at work. There was no
one else she could possibly ask. She lifted her eyes to her son’s desperate face. “Ty, I’m sorry.”

“Mr. Eggebraten,” the judge said, “can we move on here?”

Millard trudged back to his seat, his shoulders sagging. Sidney remained where she was seated.

Leonard sighed, shooting Tyson an apologetic glance as he stood. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Is there a problem here?”

“Your Honor, Mrs. Walker works full-time; however, her job is only minutes away from home. She could check in with Tyson throughout
the day and could get there quickly if she needed to for any reason.”

The judge shook his head at Leonard like he was a naughty child. “You know better, Mr. Eggebraten, but nice try. You didn’t
mention school. Why is that?”

“Tyson was expelled, sir, just for this semester.”

“Well, that wraps it up.” The judge looked directly at Tyson. “Young man, due to the circumstances, I have no choice but to
return you to confinement in Juvenile Detention until you have completed your fifteen-week sentence. You can also get your
schooling there. I will, however, withdraw the deferred sentence of one year, which was added in deference to allowing you
to do this fifteen-week period on house arrest.”

Tyson had been stoic through the whole thing, but suddenly his head dropped and his chin began to quiver. Tears immediately
flooded her own eyes as Sidney reached behind Leonard to touch her son’s arm. She wanted Ty to shrink back to a practical
size so that she could bundle him in her arms and carry him away from that awful place. The uniformed corrections officer
stepped toward the wild boy whose native floor was moss and leaves, his ceiling as high and wide as heaven. There were no
walls in the world Ty loved—just the trees that welcomed his coming like brothers and stood aside whenever he chose to come
home for a while. But he was about to be locked up like an animal in a concrete cage. Ty looked over at her as if to say good-bye,
tears beginning to form on his lower eyelids, his lips clamped into a quivering frown. He raised his hands in an angry attempt
to swipe them away, but the chain attaching the handcuffs to his chain belt stopped them short. Sidney fought for control,
but lost. Silent sobs overtook her and her shoulders began to shake.

“Your Honor.” Sidney whipped her head around. Mr. Bradbury was pushing himself up using the back of the oak bench in front
of him for support. He cleared his throat. “May I address the court?”

The judge nodded.

“My name is Millard Bradbury. I live across the street from the Walkers.”

The judge glanced down at his paperwork. “Are you not Tyson’s grandfather?”

Leonard Eggebraten stood abruptly, his chair almost crashing to the floor. He caught it in the nick of time. “Your Honor,
I was mistaken about that. I apologize. I had no intention of misleading the court. It turns out Mr. Bradbury is just a close
friend of the family.”

The judge glared at the attorney, then switched his gaze to Millard. “Go on, Mr. Bradbury.”

“I could watch the boy.” His eyes darted to Sidney, then Tyson. “I’m home most of the time anyway. I guess he could stay over
at my place during the day. I could teach him something, too. That’s what I did before I retired. Taught history and coached
wrestling here in Dunbar, over at the high school.”

That wonderful man. Sidney wanted to jump up and smother him with kisses.

The judge’s pen tapped a slow, silent rhythm on his desk. His eagle-eyed stare burned a path to Leonard Eggebraten, whose
face had grown noticeably flushed.

Sidney held her breath.

“Mr. Walker, are you willing to submit to Mr. Bradbury’s authority while your mother is away?”

Tyson nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Mr. Bradbury, this is a big commitment. Tyson is not to be left unsupervised for any length of time. Are you sure about this?”

Millard hesitated slightly before nodding.

“All right, then. Mr. Walker, you may walk out of here today under your mother’s and Mr. Bradbury’s custody. Your probation
counselor will meet with you to go over the details of the court’s requirements, which will include satisfactory completion
of all assigned schoolwork. Failure to comply will put you back in confinement, and your sentence will automatically increase
from fifteen weeks to one full year.” His gavel smacked the desk and he stood. “Court is recessed.”