Chapter 6

"I've had your case for less than three months and you're on my radar. You don't want to be on my radar." Despite her words, the parole officer's voice lacked real heat, especially for someone who probably spent the day with recalcitrant delinquents and paperwork. Red and tired eyes were the only indication of the late hour, 6 p.m.

Ryan returned her less than warm greetings with a sheepish half smile. He sat in a hardback chair opposite the desk, which overflowed with stacks of papers and remnants of a fast lunch. Ryan was relieved this meeting was underway because any move toward any kind of resolution had to be better than the constant worrying everybody was doing. Sunday had been excruciating; he had been pigeon holed separately by Sandy and Kirsten with long, understanding, but stern lectures. When he wasn't being lectured to, he had ignored all the advice he had just been given, and been consumed with worry for Chester and guilt over the problems he was causing. School today had been a lost blur.

Ryan studied his parole officer with stolen glances. She was in her late 50s and screamed ex-hippie: her gray hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her open face needed a touch of makeup, and her print dress was made of comfortable cotton – probably organic. He had only met with her once before for a regular check-in scheduled before the Oliver disaster. She had seemed reasonable but there was no telling how she would react to his most recent offense. The office was small, dominated by a desk and a few filing cabinets. Two colorful posters advertising ballet troupes and an amateur flower painting hung haphazardly on the walls.

Ms. Harrow took a few moments and flipped through pages in the manila folder. "I'll say this: you really know how to mess up a sweet deal." She closed the folder and put her reading glasses on top of her head. "And we're here today because of a new police report. What's going on with you?"

Ryan waited as long as he dared, then shrugged helplessly. He saw a kid getting beat up and stopped it. It was simple to him, but Ryan knew other people didn't see it like that so he kept his mouth shut. They would take anything he said as an invitation to dig up old history, which should stay buried. And that would drag the meeting out without changing anything that mattered like how to help Chester or stop bothering the Cohens. Besides, he was resigned to whatever they decided should happen to him.

"Not an Oprah fan? Fair enough. But this latest report is one in a long line; something isn't working. Even in Chino you didn't have this level of activity; there you had a truancy problem and a couple of fights over a number of years." She paused delicately. "What is setting you off here? I find it hard to believe you can get into less trouble where you were from."

Ryan raised his eyebrows skeptically, but kept his doubts to himself.

She opened the folder back up. "You've been with your new guardians for 6 months after a stealing a car with your brother – pled down to a misdemeanor with probation. Arson and trespassing charges, dropped. Fighting another resident in juvie - cutting out the chase there, hmm?" She brought her glasses back down and flipped a few pages. "Questioned in regard to a gun discharge which hit a classmate in the arm. Suspended for breaking into the school offices, and beating up another student. Now, an assault charge. Did I get it right? And I'll bet lots happened that didn't make it onto your sheet."

There was no reaction from Ryan.

Ms. Harrow sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose between her eyes. "I hate fishing, but if I have to I prefer doing it in a straightforward way. Substance abuse can exacerbate other problems... do you have a problem with drugs? Drinking? This other boy you beat up last month - are these two boys related to a bigger problem at the new school?"

She spoke slowly, waiting between her questions for a reaction. "Maybe your sweet deal is not so sweet - you keep jeopardizing it. Miss your old friends? How is the family you are staying with treating you? Problems with the other children?" She referred to her notes again. "One male, aged seventeen. It can't be fun to be a second class citizen."

"Maybe he's pushing you around?" Ryan tried to suppress a smile at the image of Seth throwing a punch his way. Seth got his way with his constant chatter, not fists.

"Is this funny?" Ms. Harrow asked archly.

"No, ma'am," Ryan said quickly.

"I've seen it all, even in fabled Orange County – how about the dad? Maybe he gets a little impatient?" Ms. Harrow's question was heavy with innuendo.

"No! I mean no, they're all good people." The last thing he wanted was to cause more trouble for the Cohens. Accusations of Seth pushing him around or Sandy raising a hand to him had to be squashed immediately. "They're too good to me."

"Too good?" Her eyebrows rose with the question. Without a response she continued, "Tell me what's happening."

Ryan's shook his head in frustration. "What do you want me to say? I screwed up again. It's all in the file."

"So you say no drug troubles, home or school troubles, but trouble finds you. The most recent charges are serious: assault and battery of a father and his son. Are the files right about that too? You beat up a kid less than half your size?"

Ryan's face got hot and he laced his fingers together tightly in his lap. He sucked in his breath and held it, the heinous accusation hanging in the air.

Ms. Harrow locked her face grimly. "Ryan, I've got a case load of 100 juveniles ranging from bored suburban kids caught on a wild night to gang bangers in and out of juvie since they were out of diapers. What about you? A great opportunity, an elite private school and nice zip code. Do you appreciate this? Because I'd rather not have you cost the taxpayers another stay in our rehabilitation center and then take a space in our crowded foster care system. But I have to think about what's best for you and," she paused and added, "the people you get mad at and strike out against. Can you say anything to help me decide?"

Ryan hung his head. Of course he wanted to stay he yelled silently. Juvie was no joke. The punk who beat on Ryan and hit on Kirsten may be gone but there were plenty just like him. But how could he ask for such a gift? To say aloud that he, Ryan Atwood, deserved to live with the Cohens and spend their money only to repay them by dragging them into his mess? He ought to do the right thing and tell Ms. Harrow to send him where she thought best.

"Sometimes people make a plea for help without even knowing that they are."

Ryan refused to break his silence, and adopted a dark broody stare into space. Ms. Harrow slapped the folder against the desk in irritation. "As your parole officer I don't need to wait for the criminal investigation to decide you are already a danger to society. Do you get this? If you are going to assault the president of Orange County's Better Business Bureau again, why should I risk losing my job to let you stay out on parole?"

The silence ticked by slowly. Ryan wanted to deny himself what he so desperately wanted, but he was weak and selfish. "Okay, okay. I want to stay," he said almost angrily as if she were forcing him to confess to a crime. It hurt him physically to admit how much this new family meant to him. His muscles tensed and his stomach ached. Sometimes it was easier to smash the prize before they could take it away from you, or like sour grapes, pretend you never wanted it in the first place.

And sometime you had to put faith in people like the Cohens, that they would put up with you and not abandoned you in times of trouble, like others had. "Please. I swear I won't get into another fight." Ryan's voice was strained as he talked down to his boots.

Ms. Harrow allowed Ryan a moment to gather himself. She said, "Tell me about this police report."

Ryan took a deep breath. "The kid, Chester, goes to Harbor also, but in the 5th grade. During a party at his family's house, I found out Chester's dad had broken his ribs. I got into it with his dad when he started knocking Chester around again. I didn't see Chester step between us, and I clipped him." Ryan looked directly at her and said earnestly. "I didn't mean to hit him."

"Ryan whether I believe it was an accident or not, you can't go around beating people up who get in your way. These things happen because you lose control." She let her words sink in and the room was quiet.

A knock on the door interrupted the silence. "Hello. Parking is harder to find than a real bagel in California. I hope I dropped Ryan off on time?"

"Sandy Cohen! Our office worked the Simone case together awhile back – five kids living out of dumpsters while the parents vacationed in Bali – newspapers had a field day."

Sandy smiled broadly. Shaking her hand turned into a light hug. "I remember the older girl was already on parole with you for shoplifting, what a tough case. How are you doing, Maris?" Sandy asked taking a step back.

"Fair to middling. The DA office must not be busy if you're driving out to visit humble POs." She laughed in a good-natured manner.

"You must be out of the loop. I left the DA months ago." He stood next to Ryan and put a hand on his shoulder. "Kirsten and I are Ryan's guardians."

Ryan saw out of the corner of his eye that Sandy was grinning like a proud new father. Ryan was a little embarrassed by Sandy's display of affection. And maybe a little pleased by it, too. He had expected to have the spotlight on him tonight when they grilled him about fighting, but being under the glow of parental affection was a new thing and he didn't know how to act. Also, he didn't want Ms. Harrow to think Sandy was a soft touch and that Ryan was playing him.

There was an awkward pause. And then Ms. Harrow said, "Great. Good for you both." She looked back and forth between the two. "I'm slipping; I saw your name in Ryan's folder and automatically put it in my mind as his public defender."

Sandy said, "I'm sorry we didn't meet as soon as Ryan's file was transferred to Newport; Kirsten drove Ryan to his last meeting. With this incident I thought the best thing to do was meet directly and clear things up." Sandy pulled up the only other chair in the room next to Ryan's and sat down.

"Sandy, maybe we should talk alone?" She looked pointedly at Ryan.

Ryan said, "I have a right to know what's going on."

Sandy stared at Ryan for a moment, then nodded at Ms. Harrow.

She handed Sandy the report and was all business. "The mom has admitted Dad's been rough with their son in the past. The doctors have records of previous injuries that are suspicious. She claims she didn't know how bad things were. Debbie in Child Services thinks she's been battered, too. But the son isn't collaborating."

"Debbie can spot them. And the kid is just scared."

"Moore has charged that it was Ryan. Not just the punches Ryan has admitted to against the father and the one to Chester, but breaking Chester's ribs."

Sandy sighed. "He said as much to my wife. I filed Ryan's statement this morning countering his claim. Chester is safely in his mother's custody. He'll talk when he feels safe." Sandy pulled a seat right up against the parole officer's desk. "Ryan's been through a lot, but I feel we're turning a corner. Sometimes there's chaos right before the calm, and that's where we are. Kirsten and I are determined to keep a closer eye on things from here on out. Maris, I don't want to put you in an awkward spot here between our friendship and your professional duties, ... but hell, if that's what it takes to keep Ryan, I'm calling in any chips I may have." Sandy's eyes pleaded, boring into the parole officer, and he eagerly leaned toward her to hear his case.

Ms. Harrow grimaced. "The criminal investigation will continue, and it may come out in the wash that Moore hurt his son. But Ryan has a hair trigger release and it's going to get him in real trouble sooner or later. His evaluation indicated a possible history of family violence. That puts him at risk." She looked at Ryan before continuing.

Ryan scowled and shrugged evasively. It seemed to him everyone always wanted him to act a certain way or say a certain thing, and it was hard to know what it was they wanted. He knew from experience, unless he was sure what they wanted it was better to not commit.

She continued. "Honestly, if he weren't with you I'd have to wonder about his placement. He's been in violation of his probation more than once. Sandy, I know your family can get things done in this town, maybe even sweep this away. But if you don't deal with this now it might get worse and Ryan will be the one to suffer."

"Maris, Kirsten and I had a small talk with Mr. Moore this morning." Ryan's eyes widened in surprise; he thought they were meeting later this week. Sandy continued, "If Moore complies with Child Services, and Chester is safe we won't say anything about his abuse to anyone. In exchange, he backs off of his accusations against Ryan. If he doesn't, his business is no good in this town. Kirsten and the Newport Group are behind this 100 percent."

Ryan frowned, first Sandy asking for favors and now Kirsten putting the Newport Group's weight on his side. His tally sheet was extending to far more than running shoes.

Sandy said, "The updated report will reflect this."

Ms. Harrow pursed her lips tightly. "If this news slips out, there will be real pressure for Mr. Moore to deflect it onto Ryan. Moore is no lightweight in this town either. It could be my job on the line, and they'll want to know why I didn't fix it before it was a problem. And on paper your new son has problems."

Sandy voice rose with conviction. "You're right; Ryan is our son now, a part of our family and it would rip us apart if you took him away." Ryan's eyes flickered up to Sandy, not sure how seriously to take his comments. Sandy certainly was a great lawyer who knew what to say to win his cases.

"Maris, you know better than I do that you can't decide things based on what's written in a report. He's been through some hard times with his troubled family, but he's made it out with his compassion intact. He's got great grades in one of the most demanding schools. He gets into stupid scrapes, but it's always with the most selfless intentions. He's not all about the parties, the easy, apathetic road like most of the plastic people in this town. He's why we got into this field; he gives us hope in the midst of too much ugliness."

Ms. Harrow narrowed her eyes on Sandy, assessing him. "I can get burned on this, but okay; he can stay with you for now. My hands will be tied if Moore turns up the heat. I'm requiring regular therapy or anger management counseling." She swiveled her focus onto Ryan. "I want a real effort there; don't just show up."

Ryan nodded solemnly. His heart quickened at the sudden turn of his good fortune. An anger management course didn't seem too bad, especially compared to juvie.

"You are also ordered to stay away from Chester and his family."

"Yes, ma'am." Ryan nodded grimly. Ryan resolved to not make any more trouble for Sandy and Kirsten no matter what. He was also happy now that he knew Chester was safe and getting help.

Sandy reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope. "Great. Now that that's settled, you can help me take care of these tickets going to waste: Richard Nixon's library here in Orange County has expanded. There's a rededication celebration."

Ms. Harrow burst out laughing, "Me in Republican territory?" She took the envelope from Sandy and read, "American Ballet Company's visiting here at Segerstrom Hall – front row seats." She shook her head and smiled. "I can't be bribed so cheaply, but I'll be glad to say hello to the principal dancer, Ethan Stiefel, for you."

Ryan said his goodbyes while the mood was still good and stepped outside to wait while Sandy and Ms. Harrow went over logistics and paperwork. The night air was crisp, and a cigarette would have been a perfect accompaniment to his state of mind. But as a part of his new resolve he was really going to quit again. Plus, he wasn't sure how long Sandy would be.

Sandy walked out the door a few minutes later with a big grin. "We dodged a bullet, my friend." He held up his knuckles to be knocked, and Ryan cheerfully obliged. They walked toward the car.

Ryan stopped right before the car. "Sandy, I want to, well, say thanks." Ryan jammed his hands deep into his pockets and kept his head down.

Sandy pulled him off balance in a quick hug with a few manly slaps on the back. "Yeah, well, smoozing is in my blood. We still have a lot of work ahead of us. Let's get Kirsten and Seth, we'll celebrate." He was already pulling out his cell phone.

Ryan looked at Sandy through his hair that fell over his forehead. "No, wait. I have to say this... I said some things to you that night. About you not 'getting' my life." Ryan folded his arms around his middle and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I was an ass. It doesn't matter who had it worse, it's what you're doing for me and all those other kids you helped in the DA office that matters. I had no right to judge you."

"Dialogue is good no matter how loud. I have no right to presume I know how you feel." Sandy rubbed his jaw. "Not in the same game, huh?"

"I'm glad for it, I don't want anyone to go through what I did."

"With all these words demanding to bubble out you're a natural for therapy, am I hearing you right?"

Ryan shifted uncomfortably. "Freud is over-rated, very 20th century."

"Anger management it is then."

"Yeah, how bad can that be?"

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Author's note: Sorry for the long delay in updating. Real world logistics had me bogged down.