Deer in the Headlights
I was prepared to post bail for Ponyboy despite feeling that this was crossing a boundary, not maintaining a professional distance. But I couldn't let him sit in jail.
I'd had a hang over earlier this morning, just a slight headachy twinge that dissipated with some orange juice and coffee. I dressed in a straight forward business suit, a "visiting clients in jail" suit. Not nearly as dressy as the suits I have for trials.
The boys were being arraigned today, not a big deal, but I thought I should be there. They'd be brought from the jail to the courthouse down the street.
It was a bright blue autumn day, leaves skittering in the early morning wind. I picked up a small coffee from a vendor outside the courthouse. The man at the coffee cart had nicotine yellowed hair and thick yellow nails, a gin blossom nose, crazy red veins. He nodded thanks as I dropped the quarter into his hand.
Inside the polished halls of the courthouse I saw the other arraignees with their parents, some with parole officers. Most were "hoods" or "greasers", shirt tails out, hair greased back. Most looked sullen though some, perhaps due to their nature, remained cheerful. I saw a handful of "socs", smooth faced rich kids with expensive clothes, a rich parent with them looking vaguelly embarrassed.
"Mr. Williams," It was Ponyboy's oldest brother Darrel, his jeans and tee shirt neatly pressed, just a hint of grease in his dark brown hair. Sodapop wasn't far behind him, he had more grease in his dark gold hair and his clothes were similarly pressed.
They looked equally worried and relieved and I could see how the high gloss of the courthouse, the pin stripe suited lawyers and judges in black flowing robes added to the Curtis' brother's unease. I glanced around for Dallas but didn't see him.
"What's going to happen?" Darrel said, the concern deep and touching in his voice. Sodapop looked on the verge of tears. I wanted to be reassuring, put them at ease.
"It's the arraignment today. The charges will be read, they'll state they have a lawyer and want a trial. After I'll go to the police station and see what the bail is on Ponyboy,"
"What about Johnny?" Darrel said, his concern for Johnny just as deep. I noticed then the conspicuous absence of Johnny's parents.
"Johnny? I don't think they'll set bail on him, the charge is too serious," Darrel nodded and Sodapop looked stricken. Darrel pulled his wallet from his back pocket.
"This is for Pony's bail," He handed me two one hundred dollar bills.
"No, it's alright. I've got it," I said and could hear Clyde's chime of dissapproval. Darrel pushed the money back toward me.
"No," he said, his tone the deadly tone of an adult, a father, "take it,"
I'd explained to them that the way it works is everyone who is being arraigned has to be there for 9 a.m. and then they call names.
"But we're kind of lucky," They raised their eyebrows, "they usually call the names first of the kids who come from the jails,"
We went into the courtroom, it was 10 minutes of nine. I glanced over to the seats on the side near the front that are reserved for prisoners. Empty.
They came in together dressed in orange prison jumpsuits, their short hair neatly combed. They were handcuffed, their hands in front of them, and prodded along by two guards. One guard looked barely older than Darrel, the other as old as Clyde.
Ponyboy scanned the courtroom and saw us, recognition filling his eyes. Johnny looked down and I couldn't see his face at all, just the short black hair. He didn't even look up when Ponyboy nudged him and whispered something.
"Jesus Christ," Darrel said softly.
The arraignment went as they all do and as predicted they called Ponyboy and Johnny first, Cade then Curtis. Johnny stood in front of the judge, trembling slightly, mumbling his responses, the judge scowling down at him. Ponyboy was a little shaky too but looked that judge right in the eye and responded in a high, clear school boy's voice.
At the recess we filed out into the hall.
"So, what now?" Darrel said.
"Nothing. They'll go back to the police station. I'll head there shortly,"
"When can we see them?" Sodapop said, the anxiety glistening in his eyes like a sheen of tears.
"It's usually one day for an hour, I think it's Wednesday, I'll check,"
"O.K. Thanks," Darrel offered his hand and I shook it, not at all surprised by the firmness of his grip.
They left and I watched them leave, the slowness of their steps, the proud set to their shoulders.
I was a little surprised Dallas didn't show. I supposed with his police record that it made sense he didn't want to be here.
I found myself almost angry with Johnny's parents. Their son had been hiding from the law after killing someone, turns himself in and they don't bother to show up. If it was my son, if I had a son and he was in the same circumstances you bet I'd be here. I shook my head and glanced around for my briefcase. Nowhere in sight. Must have left it in the courtroom.
I turned to go back when I was stopped short by a well dressed weepy woman and a stoic, well dressed man.
"Are you D.K. Williams?" the woman said, a quiver of tears in her voice. The man, most likely her husband, stared me down.
"Yes,"
"Are you defending them?" She put emphasis on the last word, like she couldn't bear to say their names. So I said them for her.
"You mean Ponyboy Curtis and Johnny Cade?" She nodded and looked as though she were sucking on a lemon.
"Yes, I am,"
"Well, how can you?" She looked as though she wanted to slug me, or claw at my eyes with her shapely manicured nails.
I waited and knew exactly who she was. Robert Sheldon's mother.
"Darling, we should go," the husband said in soft, cultured tones, his hand on her shoulder. She shook violently free and came over to me.
"How can you? Do you know what those boys did? Those...hoodlums..." she choked off a sob and her husband's face seemed to twist in sorrow. I began to feel like a deer in the headlights of their sadness. There was nothing I could say.
"Darling? Please? Let's go," her husband pleaded with her and succeeded in pulling her away. Tears streamed and mixed with her make up and she turned away, let her husband lead her out.
I went into the courtroom and found my briefcase where I had been sitting. Grabbed the handle and stood up and looked straight into Dallas' pale blue eyes. He was leaning against the wall by the back door, arms folded, and had been all along.
I was prepared to post bail for Ponyboy despite feeling that this was crossing a boundary, not maintaining a professional distance. But I couldn't let him sit in jail.
I'd had a hang over earlier this morning, just a slight headachy twinge that dissipated with some orange juice and coffee. I dressed in a straight forward business suit, a "visiting clients in jail" suit. Not nearly as dressy as the suits I have for trials.
The boys were being arraigned today, not a big deal, but I thought I should be there. They'd be brought from the jail to the courthouse down the street.
It was a bright blue autumn day, leaves skittering in the early morning wind. I picked up a small coffee from a vendor outside the courthouse. The man at the coffee cart had nicotine yellowed hair and thick yellow nails, a gin blossom nose, crazy red veins. He nodded thanks as I dropped the quarter into his hand.
Inside the polished halls of the courthouse I saw the other arraignees with their parents, some with parole officers. Most were "hoods" or "greasers", shirt tails out, hair greased back. Most looked sullen though some, perhaps due to their nature, remained cheerful. I saw a handful of "socs", smooth faced rich kids with expensive clothes, a rich parent with them looking vaguelly embarrassed.
"Mr. Williams," It was Ponyboy's oldest brother Darrel, his jeans and tee shirt neatly pressed, just a hint of grease in his dark brown hair. Sodapop wasn't far behind him, he had more grease in his dark gold hair and his clothes were similarly pressed.
They looked equally worried and relieved and I could see how the high gloss of the courthouse, the pin stripe suited lawyers and judges in black flowing robes added to the Curtis' brother's unease. I glanced around for Dallas but didn't see him.
"What's going to happen?" Darrel said, the concern deep and touching in his voice. Sodapop looked on the verge of tears. I wanted to be reassuring, put them at ease.
"It's the arraignment today. The charges will be read, they'll state they have a lawyer and want a trial. After I'll go to the police station and see what the bail is on Ponyboy,"
"What about Johnny?" Darrel said, his concern for Johnny just as deep. I noticed then the conspicuous absence of Johnny's parents.
"Johnny? I don't think they'll set bail on him, the charge is too serious," Darrel nodded and Sodapop looked stricken. Darrel pulled his wallet from his back pocket.
"This is for Pony's bail," He handed me two one hundred dollar bills.
"No, it's alright. I've got it," I said and could hear Clyde's chime of dissapproval. Darrel pushed the money back toward me.
"No," he said, his tone the deadly tone of an adult, a father, "take it,"
I'd explained to them that the way it works is everyone who is being arraigned has to be there for 9 a.m. and then they call names.
"But we're kind of lucky," They raised their eyebrows, "they usually call the names first of the kids who come from the jails,"
We went into the courtroom, it was 10 minutes of nine. I glanced over to the seats on the side near the front that are reserved for prisoners. Empty.
They came in together dressed in orange prison jumpsuits, their short hair neatly combed. They were handcuffed, their hands in front of them, and prodded along by two guards. One guard looked barely older than Darrel, the other as old as Clyde.
Ponyboy scanned the courtroom and saw us, recognition filling his eyes. Johnny looked down and I couldn't see his face at all, just the short black hair. He didn't even look up when Ponyboy nudged him and whispered something.
"Jesus Christ," Darrel said softly.
The arraignment went as they all do and as predicted they called Ponyboy and Johnny first, Cade then Curtis. Johnny stood in front of the judge, trembling slightly, mumbling his responses, the judge scowling down at him. Ponyboy was a little shaky too but looked that judge right in the eye and responded in a high, clear school boy's voice.
At the recess we filed out into the hall.
"So, what now?" Darrel said.
"Nothing. They'll go back to the police station. I'll head there shortly,"
"When can we see them?" Sodapop said, the anxiety glistening in his eyes like a sheen of tears.
"It's usually one day for an hour, I think it's Wednesday, I'll check,"
"O.K. Thanks," Darrel offered his hand and I shook it, not at all surprised by the firmness of his grip.
They left and I watched them leave, the slowness of their steps, the proud set to their shoulders.
I was a little surprised Dallas didn't show. I supposed with his police record that it made sense he didn't want to be here.
I found myself almost angry with Johnny's parents. Their son had been hiding from the law after killing someone, turns himself in and they don't bother to show up. If it was my son, if I had a son and he was in the same circumstances you bet I'd be here. I shook my head and glanced around for my briefcase. Nowhere in sight. Must have left it in the courtroom.
I turned to go back when I was stopped short by a well dressed weepy woman and a stoic, well dressed man.
"Are you D.K. Williams?" the woman said, a quiver of tears in her voice. The man, most likely her husband, stared me down.
"Yes,"
"Are you defending them?" She put emphasis on the last word, like she couldn't bear to say their names. So I said them for her.
"You mean Ponyboy Curtis and Johnny Cade?" She nodded and looked as though she were sucking on a lemon.
"Yes, I am,"
"Well, how can you?" She looked as though she wanted to slug me, or claw at my eyes with her shapely manicured nails.
I waited and knew exactly who she was. Robert Sheldon's mother.
"Darling, we should go," the husband said in soft, cultured tones, his hand on her shoulder. She shook violently free and came over to me.
"How can you? Do you know what those boys did? Those...hoodlums..." she choked off a sob and her husband's face seemed to twist in sorrow. I began to feel like a deer in the headlights of their sadness. There was nothing I could say.
"Darling? Please? Let's go," her husband pleaded with her and succeeded in pulling her away. Tears streamed and mixed with her make up and she turned away, let her husband lead her out.
I went into the courtroom and found my briefcase where I had been sitting. Grabbed the handle and stood up and looked straight into Dallas' pale blue eyes. He was leaning against the wall by the back door, arms folded, and had been all along.
