This chapter was going to be part of the last one, but it was way too long, so I split it into two. Hope you enjoy reading!
A Cry in the Park
Chapter 12
Louise soon understood why Dr. Anderson only wanted her to do half-days at school; four hours of school, plus an hour of physical therapy, and she was absolutely exhausted. Bob and Linda had become accustomed to taking her to her room when she arrived home, because she would inevitably fall asleep.
Things had gone back to normal, and only very little had changed; Louise would now spend a while in the bathroom every morning, cleaning her stumps. She had learned her lesson, although she still hated looking at them so much.
She now had her night light on every night, whereas before she didn't really need it all the time.
Sometimes, she would forget that she had had amputations, and fall in the middle of the night when she got up for the bathroom, and she still slept every afternoon after physical therapy. She'd gotten used to crawling to the bathroom.
It was easy to forget that she had no toes, and sometimes she would go to wriggle or stretch them, only for nothing to happen. However, Louise swore that she could sometimes feel them; occasionally, she would get an itch, and she would bend down, only to scratch thin air. It was weird.
She needed her seat ring whenever she sat down. Mealtimes and school were easy, as she just stayed in her wheelchair, but she needed to remember to put it on the sofa, before she transferred.
Bob and Linda couldn't believe how unaffected by it all Louise appeared to be. She seemed unconcerned with the customers talking to her, and being back at school in her wheelchair. But they knew that it was bothering her more than she let on.
"Come on, kids, time to get up!" Linda called as she prepared breakfast, and Bob sat at the table reading the newspaper.
"Did you.. hear anything last night?" Bob asked delicately, as Linda cracked eggs.
"Hear what? I didn't hear nothing."
"I think Louise has been having bad dreams." Bob had gotten up the night before to use the bathroom, and on his way back, he had checked on the kids. Tina was thrashing, Gene was farting, but Louise was whimpering. He'd gone over to her, but she had stopped soon after, so he went back to bed.
"Okay, shall we talk to her?"
"I don't think it'll do much good," said Bob honestly. Louise had been moody and tetchy ever since she had arrived home from hospital. It was just like when she had her accident (although 'accident' was a nice way of putting it), and Louise had been bad-tempered after that hospital stay, too. But, she was only four, and was dealing with a lot, so the parents had decided to let it go.
"Well, what about therapy?"
"You know she won't talk about it."
"Yeah, you're right," Linda shrugged, and went to wake her children up.
Tina was already up, writing her erotic friend fiction, but Gene was fast asleep. "Up you get, my little Genie," she cooed, opening the curtains, and pulling his blanket down.
"Mother, I'll have you know that I was in the middle of a very interesting dream about a house made of cheese! Now I'm hungry for cheese," Gene stretched and made his way into the kitchen.
Louise was still lying in bed when Linda checked on her, and she saw that her daughter was wearing socks, one of them stretched over her ankle cast. Linda wasn't sure whether Louise was supposed to be wearing them, but as the doctor hadn't said anything about it, she kept quiet. That was another thing that had changed; Louise never went barefoot anymore, not even to bed.
"Time to get up, Louise."
"Don't want to; I have a headache," came Louise's muffled voice, her face buried in her pillow.
"Another one?" Linda crossed over to the bed, kneeling down.
"Yep."
"You've had a headache or stomach ache every day this week. Are you feeling okay, sweetie?"
"Just grand(!)"
"I'll get you some medicine; it'll be ready when you come out."
"Fine," Linda moved away as Louise sat up, and stood in the doorway, watching.
"Are you just gonna stand there all day, and block the light, or are you gonna move so I can get out?" said Louise, the dark circles under her eyes even more pronounced in the beam of light that entered the room.
"Louise -" Linda had to remind herself not to get angry; she almost died, after all. "Breakfast is ready," was all she said, leaving the doorway.
Louise was getting used to the wheelchair. There were plenty of older kids and adults who were only too happy to help her up the ramp every day, and most people had the sense to stay out of her way.
That was the one thing Louise liked about her wheelchair; people parted like the Red Sea when she rolled down the corridors, and those who didn't got a "accidental" bash to the ankle. Best of all, nobody could do anything or say anything, because then they would be the ones who were being inconsiderate of a poor, little disabled (temporarily) child. Louise had to admit, the wheelchair had its perks.
"Beep beep! Out of the way!" Louise ordered, quickly wheeling herself down the main corridor, grinning as students and adults alike moved aside to let her through. She could get used to that. It was just basic manners, really, to move out of the way of the future ruler of the world. They would want to get into her good books, so that she wouldn't smite them, or whatever it was that world leaders did to traitors. Heads on a pike? Or was that too much?
Usually, Gene and Tina would be hurrying along behind her, but Louise would refuse to let them steer her. It was her chair; she would do the steering, thank you very much. Today, if they were behind her, she couldn't hear them. "Move!" she yelled, deliberately speeding up, and a third-grader shrieked and dived to the side, lest she be mown down.
It was funny how something she needed because she couldn't walk gave her so much power.
Louise kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, not making eye contact with anyone. Of course, with great power came great responsibility, or whatever they said. She refused to meet anyone's gaze due to the pitying looks they showered her with, just like she had known they would.
People who had never even spoken to her, would approach her and ask if she needed help. Her, Louise Belcher! It was insulting, and Louise would not hesitate to run over a foot or knock into them as she wheeled herself past.
Perhaps even worse – no, definitely even worse – were the well-meaning people who would randomly grab the handlebars, and start pushing her. That meant that Louise would instantly apply the brakes.
"Don't touch the chair!" she'd snapped more than once. "It's mine; you don't touch it!"
"I was only trying to help," said one of the snotty eighth-graders she didn't care to know the name of.
"Well, don't! I can steer it myself!" Thankfully, most people had got the message, and were finally leaving her alone.
Louise huffed and growled as, yet again, the wheels of the chair were jammed in the door frame. "Damn it," she muttered, backing up, and trying again, only for the same thing to happen. She growled once more; this seemed to happen at least once a day. She could hear talking and chattering in the corridor behind her, but no one seemed to realise she was stuck. Or, if they did, were reluctant to come and help her. Louise hesitated, wondering if she should swallow her pride, before shaking her head, and trying once more. The wheels still wouldn't go through, and she felt this close to reaching out and snapping the door frame off.
"Hol' on a sec there, girl." Louise seethed silently as she heard a familiar drawl, and felt a pair of hands on her wheelchair. In an instant, she was through the door. Annoyed, she continued wheeling herself, determined to get as far away as possible. "You're welcome," Zeke called after her, his tone light and casual.
Louise twisted around, trying to mask the pain she felt in her back, and rolled up to Zeke.
"Thank. You," she hissed.
"Oh, come on now; ain't no need fer that." He raised his eyebrows.
"Oh, really?" Louise glared up at him.
"Yeah, Li'l B, I was -"
"Don't call me that!" she snapped, her hands clenching into fists.
"Alright, then, Louise; I was only tryna help. A little manners go a long way, ya know." This was the wrong thing to say to an already angry girl with a bruised ego. Zeke knew as soon as the words had left his mouth that he had made a mistake. But, his grandma had always been big on manners, and it had rubbed off onto him. "Ah, now, I didn't mean that -" he began, but Louise didn't let him finish.
"Don't patronise me," she pointed a finger in his face. "I don't need help," she informed him, before turning around, and wheeling herself away.
Louise was now into her second week at school, but was still in her wheelchair, because she was just too exhausted.
As per usual, they had a system; either Gene or Tina would 'thoughtfully' roll the wheelchair down the stairs, and Louise would then bum-shuffle down after it, and then stand and lift herself in. When they got home, one of her siblings would give her a piggy-back ride (if Louise didn't feel like bum-shuffling back up), and someone would bring the wheelchair up. They hadn't yet progressed to stair-climbing in physical therapy, and Louise didn't feel like trying at home, and falling.
Once they were finished with breakfast, Bob and Linda opened the restaurant, and the kids' headed off to school.
It was another busy morning; Linda hummed and sang as she took orders, ran food, and bussed tables. Bob was behind the grill, cooking the new burger of the day, the "Sweet Chard O' Mine Burger,", and he would come out to help bus and clean tables whenever there was a gap.
"How's your little girl doing?" asked a woman with a toddler Linda did not know.
"She's good, doing really well," Linda beamed.
"Oh, that's good; I was watching every day. I work in an office, and everyone stopped what they were doing to watch when they got her out."
"Really? That's so sweet." The phone rang in the background, but before she could move, Bob answered it.
"Yeah! We were all so relieved. When I got home, my mom told me she actually cried."
"Wow." Linda didn't think she would ever not be amazed by the reaction of all these strangers. Now that she'd had time to process it, she found it very sweet.
"Lin, can you hold the fort for a few minutes?" Linda turned around to see Bob pulling off his apron, and heading to the door. She looked at the clock, confused; it was barely nine.
"What? What happened?"
"That was the school; they said Louise fell out of her wheelchair."
"What?! Is she okay?! How did that happen?"
"I don't know; they didn't tell me," Bob was already out of the door.
When he arrived at the school, Louise, Gene and Tina were outside the school, as was Mr. Frond, and Nurse Liz. "What happened?!" he asked, as soon as he was within earshot. Louise was sat in her wheelchair, red in the face, hands balled into fists.
"Louise fell out of her chair," said Tina needlessly.
"Yes, Tina, I know. How did it happen?"
"It slipped off the curb!" Louise snapped, her teeth clenched, clearly in pain.
She had been waiting to cross the road with her brother and sister, when the front wheels had rolled forward, off the curb. Louise, without thinking, had slammed her feet on the ground, and somehow, she had toppled out of her chair.
"Louise! Are you okay?!" Gene cried.
"Just get me up!" Her wheelchair was on its side, and she was lying on her stomach in the road. Louise propped herself up onto her elbows. "Get me up!"
Gene was able to move her slightly towards the seat of her chair, but he couldn't lift her, and it, up. Even when Tina joined in, the two of them weren't able to lift her. Louise kept her eyes on the ground, knowing that people were watching.
"Whoa, easy, girl; I gotcha," came a Southern drawl, and the next thing Louise knew, a strong pair of hands had put her back in her chair, and picked it up.
"Thanks, Zeke," said Tina.
"Yeah, thanks," added Gene, while Louise focused on trying to make herself comfortable.
"Ain't no problem. You okay, Louise?" Zeke looked at her, but Louise did not look at him.
"Fine, just go away!" she said, trying to stop herself from screaming in pain.
Gene and Tina had wheeled her to school, in order to phone their parents, when Nurse Liz came out, having been alerted by Zeke.
"Are you okay?" Bob asked, kneeling down beside her.
"My feet – really – hurt," she hissed through clenched teeth.
"Okay," Bob nodded, and looked at Frond, "she should probably be back tomorrow, but we'll let you know. See you later, Gene, Tina."
"Bye, Dad," said Tina as their father loaded Louise into the car.
Linda was waiting for them when they arrived, and when the car pulled up, she ran outside to greet them.
"Oh, Louise, my baby, are you okay?!" She danced around anxiously, as Bob lifted Louise out of the car. "Are you okay?" she repeated, but Louise didn't answer. "Bobby?"
"I'll tell you in a minute; just let me put her upstairs," said Bob, taking Louise into the apartment.
He put Louise in her bed, before rifling through the medicine cabinets for some pain relief. He came back to her, with some pills, that had been crushed up and mixed in with some juice, and a bag of frozen peas.
"Are you still in pain?" he asked, handing her the glass. She shook her head, but he knew she was lying. He removed the blanket, removed her shoes and socks, and began to ice her feet. Upon inspection, her feet did not look swollen, or red, or have any kind of markings on them. "I think you'll be okay," said Bob, pulling the blanket back up. "Try and get some sleep," he kissed her on the forehead, before leaving the room.
"So, what happened, Bobby?" Linda practically pounced on him as soon as he entered the restaurant.
"Apparently, her wheelchair slipped off the curb, and she had to slam her feet down," said Bob, re-tying his apron.
"But she's okay?"
"Yeah, there's no marks or anything, and I gave her some medicine. I'm just gonna let her sleep."
"Okay. I'll go up and check on her later."
Louise did not awaken properly until dinner time, thankfully free of pain, and was able to walk to the table using her crutches. "How you doin', sweetie?" asked Linda, rising to her feet as Louise entered the room.
"Fine," said Louise, moving back a bit so Linda couldn't hug her. She sat down, and they all started to eat.
"So," said Bob about halfway through the meal, breaking the silence. "I've decided that we're going to press charges against Logan." Linda looked up at Bob, but Louise did not look up from her plate.
"Really?" asked Tina.
"Well, yeah; he's responsible, and he should be punished. I'm going down to the police station after dinner."
"I'll go with you!" said Linda, and Louise looked up, looking slightly confused. "Tina, you can babysit."
Logan Barry Bush got the biggest shock of his life when he opened the front door later that evening, and came face-to-face with two policemen. He froze.
"Logan Bush," said one, stepping forward, "you're under arrest for aggravated assault and battery against a minor. You don't have to say anything, and anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney; if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you."
His instincts kicked in when he was handcuffed.
"Hey!" he cried. "Hey, stop!"
"What is going on here?" Cynthia shrieked, having been roused by the noise.
"Ma'am, your son is under arrest for assault and battery. We're taking him down to the station, where he will be held for bail. As he's a minor, you and your husband are welcome to come."
Cynthia immediately grabbed her purse and coat, and she and Tom followed Logan as he was led to a police car. She covered her face as he was put in the back; the neighbours had come out to watch.
At the station, Logan was taken into a small room, while Tom and Cynthia were made to wait in another room.
"What the hell is going on!?" she demanded.
"Mr and Mrs. Belcher have pressed charges," an officer told her. "Right now, your son is being questioned, and he will either be released on bail, or held until the court case."
"What court case?"
"For the crimes he's been charged with, ma'am. If it's decided that the crime was serious enough, then it will go to court, and you and the Belchers' will have to give evidence."
"But this is ridiculous!" Cynthia exploded. "He only pushed her! It was just a little push."
"Ma'am, I would advise you to get a lawyer," was all the officer said before walking away.
"A lawyer!" Cynthia fumed, and she sat down, shaking her head. "This is insane!" Tom paced for a while, looking worried, before sitting down beside his wife.
"A lawyer," he said, with an air of finality to his voice.
"We don't need one," said Cynthia. "As if this will even make it to court!"
"Well, they said if it's serious enough..."
"Don't even go there; that girl's injuries are nothing to do with Logan! Anyone with half a brain cell can see that."
"Okay," Tom sighed. "If it does end up going to court – if – then we will need a lawyer. I don't want our son going to prison."
"I don't, either. What can we do?" Cynthia got up, and began to pace.
"Well, let's say it will end up in court; we need a good lawyer, and we need evidence."
"Evidence?" She stopped pacing and looked at him.
"You know, anything that can prove it was an accident; we'll need to look into that."
"Yeah, you're right," Cynthia sat back down. "My friend, Lacey, has a really good lawyer; he got her out of that theft charge, remember?"
"Mm-hm," Tom nodded, rubbing his temples.
"I was there, and he's really good. He'll help us; he's just what we need."
If the two families hated one another before, that was nothing compared to the tension between them now. Cynthia was all ready to march to the Belchers' apartment, and have it out with them. The only thing that stopped her was Tom saying that it could be taken as a threat.
"You could get arrested, too," he told her.
"It's their fault!" she seethed. "They couldn't just let it go, could they? Their daughter's out of hospital, what more do they want?! Our son had to spend the night behind bars! Behind bars!" she screeched. "They took his fingerprints! If he gets convicted, he'll have a criminal record. This will affect his job opportunities!"
"I know," he tried to calm her. "But we've got a court case to prepare for, so let's focus on that. Logan's being released today, as well, so let's just be there for him."
For once, Cynthia backed down.
The Belcher family were also preparing for the court case, working closely with the police. They were lucky in the fact that they had lots of evidence; Logan's admitting that he pushed Louise and wanted to hurt her, photos of Louise's injuries, her hospital report, and the CCTV footage.
"I don't see how we can lose," said Linda one morning, as the kids' came into the restaurant before school. Louise was now on crutches, and in a walking boot, and this was hopefully to be her last week of half-days. She'd finally ditched the jacket and leggings, as it was too hot. Her scars appeared to have faded enough that they weren't instantly visible, as Bob and Linda couldn't see them.
"Do I need to be there?" she asked, resting her hands on the stool because she couldn't climb. In all honesty, she didn't care.
"I don't think so," Linda said. Both she and Bob had noticed that Louise didn't appear to be as enthusiastic as they thought she would be. Perhaps she was still not sleeping properly, as she just seemed tired all the time.
Truthfully, Louise wanted to feel happy knowing that Logan was most likely going to prison, she really did. She just couldn't work up the energy. She supposed that when she was done with physical therapy, she would stop feeling so drained, and her body would stop feeling so heavy. "You know," said Linda, when the kids' had left. "I'm worried about her."
"Me, too," Bob admitted. "Maybe she's sleeping too much? Like, maybe she should stop sleeping in the afternoon?"
"Yeah, maybe. But she's different now; she just doesn't seem happy. I know the doctor did say it's normal for her to feel a bit down, but I hate seeing her like this. Hey, I've got an idea; why don't you take her out after school and get some ice cream?"
"Alright," said Bob, nodding. Anything to put a smile back on her face. Maybe if he took her out, just the two of them, for some daddy-daughter bonding time, she would stop ignoring him. "Maybe she can pick the movie tonight, as well? Oh, wait, weren't you going to sing with Gene tonight?"
"Ah, we can do that tomorrow." Linda couldn't help but beam as she pictured herself outside the restaurant, singing and dancing her heart out, while Gene accompanied her. They'd been practising every evening, and she couldn't wait for the passersby to stop and marvel at her and her beautiful boy.
"Alright, I'll take her to Moo's Clues."
So, that's where Bob and Louise found themselves after school. Trying to cheer her up, he'd told her that she could have any ice cream she wanted. They were sat at the little table, Louise with her two scoops of Ripple Fudge Caramel Delight, Bob with his Cookie Dough, they ate in silence. "How's the ice cream?" Bob asked after a while, but Louise didn't look up or even acknowledge him. "Louise?" Still nothing, and he sighed. "Louise!" he raised his voice slightly, and she jumped a little bit, looking up at him.
"What?"
"How's the ice cream?" he repeated.
"It's ice cream," she shrugged. "Can't really mess it up." She noticed he was still looking at her. "What?"
"It's just – how come you keep ignoring me?"
"Ignoring you? Dad, do you realise how much you sound like a teenage girl right now?"
"I'm serious, Louise. I have to repeat myself several times just to get you to even look at me." She looked down at her ice cream, fiddling with her spoon.
"I wasn't ignoring you," she muttered.
"What? You weren't?" and she shook her head. "Then why don't you answer me?"
"Because I don't hear you!" she hissed, glaring at him. Bob's jaw dropped; it all made sense now. He wanted to slap himself; he couldn't believe that he had actually forgotten about her hearing loss. Well, he hadn't forgotten, it just didn't come to mind.
"Louise, I'm sorry," he said sincerely.
"Should think so," she stirred her ice cream vigorously. "You should know better than to go around accusing people without any proof!"
"I'm just – not used to it."
"Well, I'm not either, in case you hadn't noticed. I'm a little bit deaf now; you should know what that's like; you're old," she glared at him again, and Bob felt terrible. He knew from experience that Louise wouldn't talk unless she wanted to, but he had never thought to actually ask her.
"So.. what do you hear?" he asked tentatively. He saw her face twist, and prepared for a sarcastic remark.
"Low voices are hard to hear," she revealed. Keeping her eyes firmly on her bowl, she continued, "you and Tina are the hardest; you're both so quiet."
"Sorry; I'll, uh, keep that in mind."
"When everyone's talking at once, it all gets mashed up," said Louise, surprised at herself for opening up.
"Like how?"
"It feels like trying to listen to two radio stations at once." Louise had never listened to a radio in her life; that was for ancient people, like her parents. But she had seen enough movies and TV shows, where characters had been switching between stations, getting a garbled mess, and that was exactly what it sounded like.
"Okay; we'll work on that." Louise only nodded, still focusing on her ice cream. "Louise?" and she looked up at him. "Thanks for telling me."
"Whatever, Dad." But Bob was sure he could see a glint of relief in her eyes.
One warm, sunny afternoon, Linda and Gene were standing outside the restaurant. Gene had his keyboard all set up, and Linda was next to him, her heart racing with excited anticipation.
"Mother, are you ready?" asked Gene in his deepest game show host voice.
"I'm ready, baby! All right!" she fist pumped, throwing her head back. Gene began to play.
"Summer lovin', had me a blast," he sang.
"Summer lovin', happened so fast," Linda turned to face Gene as they continued singing. Neither of them had microphones, but their enthusiasm carried their voices far. They'd borrowed a small speaker from Teddy, which was underneath the keyboard stand, and that was enough for the music to be loud enough. "Tell me more, tell me more, was it love at first sight?"
Inside the restaurant, Bob had to smile as he watched his wife and son; they looked so happy. Passersby began to stop and watch, giving them even more encouragement.
"Hello, everybody," Gene grinned, after the song, turning on the charm. "This next one's a classic; you'll all know this, so sing along!" Pressing a button on his keyboard, he turned to Linda, as a pre-recorded beat rang out. "I'd do anything for you, dear, anying. For you mean everything to me," he sang, bopping along in time, and Linda beamed. A few members of the small crowd recognised the song, and began to clap in time. Gene took Linda's hand, and they started to walk jauntily up and down the street, singing all the while.
The audience began to drop coins into the plastic jar, while calling for more.
Tina and Louise were sat in a booth, watching. Teddy was in his usual seat, watching, as well. The restaurant was empty, apart from him.
"Are they gonna make this a weekly thing?" asked Tina.
"I don't think so," said Bob. "They probably want to."
"If they do, they'll just drive everyone away," muttered Louise, swinging her legs.
"The idea is to earn some money, Louise, not attract customers to the restaurant."
"Got that right; nobody'd in their right mind would wanna eat here, or stand around outside having to listen to that," she nodded toward the window, where Linda was crooning "Feed the Birds" from "Mary Poppins."
"Louise," warned Bob, but she didn't look at him, and they continued to watch the show. Linda finished singing and took a deep bow, as the crowd applauded. She then stepped aside, and gave Gene the stage.
"Let it go, let it go, can't hold it back anymore," belted Gene, standing in front of the keyboard, throwing his arms out, his imaginary cape flaring behind him. The children in the audience squealed and got closer, dancing around.
In the end, after two hours of singing, they'd made $75. Not bad, not bad at all.
"Oh, Bobby, that was amazing!" cried Linda, cackling. "We're definitely going to make that a regular thing!"
"Yeah!" Gene yelled, spinning on the bar stool, full of adrenaline. "Oh, we have to do "Suddenly Seymour," and "Time to Say Goodbye"!"
"Gene, we don't speak Italian."
"It's never too late to learn!" he declared.
Despite Bob and Linda's attempts to help Louise, she didn't improve. Two scoops of Ripple Fudge Caramel Delight did little to lift her mood. Picking the movie didn't help. Making cupcakes with Linda didn't help (which she usually enjoyed, because she got to eat the remaining frosting), nor did going out to fancy restaurants, courtesy of her gift certificates.
She was awakened by nightmares almost every night, which interrupted her sleep, making her grumpy the next day. Although she was still sarcastic, she sounded bored, like her heart was no longer in it. She was no longer interested in her favourite things.
"I'm gonna take her to About a Toy," Linda had announced a few weeks later. "She hasn't spent that gift voucher yet; that'll cheer her up."
It was now summer, and it wasn't long until school broke up.
"Well, it'll have to be tomorrow, Lin; we have to go to the school."
"Right. Oh, I'm not looking forward to this," Linda sighed. They had gotten a phone call that morning from Ms LaBonz, saying that she needed to speak to them about Louise's grades. It must be bad if she wanted to see them both.
So, they headed down there when school was out, and met up with Gene and Tina, who were waiting outside Louise's classroom. They had to remain there, while Bob and Linda went inside. LaBonz wasted no time in getting right to the point.
"Louise's grades are at an all-time low," she said, looking at Louise, who was sat in between her parents, arms folded and scowling.
"We know our kids don't always get the best grades, but -" began Bob, but LaBonz cut him off.
"All. Time. Low!" she snapped, causing the parents to jump. "We've given her a chance to catch up, but's just not good enough." She began pulling out papers. "A D- in Science, an F in Math, D in History. We did a spelling test yesterday, and she got 3 out of 20!" That last one shocked them; Louise was usually good at spelling. Bob took the paper, and looked through it.
"Wait, most of these are right," he pointed out. "Cavity is spelt right, so is fate, and this," he narrowed his eyes. "Ted talk? Unusual, but she got that right, too."
"I didn't say Ted talk," said LaBonz, "I said tectonic. Cavity was gravity, fate was freight, and clips was eclipse! Mr. Belcher, Louise really needs to learn to focus." But Bob was still staring at the paper, and the penny dropped.
"Where is she sitting?" he asked, and Louise, still scowling, jabbed her thumb over her shoulder.
"Why is she still sitting at the back?" asked Bob, having looked where she was pointing.
"What?"
"We told you when she came back to put her at the front!" said Linda. "You know she's partially deaf now; how is she supposed to get the right answers when she can't hear you?"
"Well.. she didn't ask for any help," LaBonz faltered. As far as she was aware, no one had put Louise in the front of any of her classes.
"That doesn't matter! These grades do not count," said Linda. "Move her to the front, and if her grades don't improve, then we'll talk it over." She rose, along with Bob, and led Louise out of the room.
Logan was also struggling at school; everyone had completely distanced themselves from him. Things had gotten a little better after Louise had been rescued, but the news of his arrest and assault charge had somehow got out, and schoolmates had begun avoiding him like the plague. Even Scotty and Jason had stopped hanging around with him, and barely texted him anymore. His 16th birthday had passed quietly. He felt very alone.
Cynthia's friends had distanced themselves, as well. She no longer invited them over for drinks, because nobody bothered showing up anymore.
"It's all the Belchers' fault!" she raged to Tom and Logan at the dinner table.
"That's what I keep saying!" said Logan.
"They just keep pushing and pushing."
"Don't get involved with them," Tom warned.
"Why not!? It's them that caused all of this!"
"Because," Tom sighed, "they can tell the police, who can use it for more evidence. Do you want to get jailed or fined for harassment?" He didn't understand why he had to keep explaining it to her.
"Of course not; I'm just saying that they're really holding onto this. They just want to cause us as much pain and misery as possible."
Logan nodded, his face thunderous. "I think I'll do what that policeman suggested, and sue the council," said Cynthia.
"What?"
"Well, you know; if they had filled in the well, like they were supposed to, this would't have happened. I mean, how hard is it to do a simple, little job like filling in an abandoned well?"
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" asked Tom.
"Of course I'm sure!" she snapped. "It's because of their negligence that a little girl almost died, right?" There was a not-very-nice smile on her face.
"Don't do anything rash," he warned.
"I'm not!"
"I really don't think that'll work; they'll just argue that Louise wouldn't have fallen if Logan hadn't pushed her."
"You're right; they'll definitely come back to that."
"And it's not like the well was never going to be filled in; they'd only drained it at the beginning of February."
"All right, I get it!" she snapped once again. "Fine! If I can't sue them, I'll sue Bob." This caused both Tom and Logan to look at her.
"What?" Tom felt like burying his head in his hand. "What for?"
"Intimidation," she said smugly. "After all, he did threaten my child. See how he likes it."
Louise, Gene and Tina walked down the school corridor. The final bell had rang, and Louise could not wait to get home. It was the last day of school, and she was not going to waste another second of it inside that prison.
"Oh, hang on a second," Tina began stepping backwards, "I forgot something."
"Is it your groove? Are you going to get it back?" asked Gene.
"No; I left some friend fiction in my locker, and I need to finish it. Oh, and I also left Jimmy Jr's sweatband."
"Okay, well, we'll wait out here," said Louise, "I've been to school once today; I don't need to go again."
The brother and sister waited and waited, but Tina did not re-emerge. Louise was secretly grateful for the rest; climbing stairs made her feel like she'd run a marathon, and she was using the opportunity to catch her breath. "What's taking her so long?" she complained, when Tina hadn't come out after five minutes.
"I don't know. Wanna go find her?"
"Nah, I'll wait; you go ahead." Louise leaned against the wall as Gene went inside, occasionally tapping her crutches against the ground.
Logan stormed down the street, fuming. He'd had a terrible day at school, with one thing after another going wrong for him, and he was filled with anger.
As he walked down the street, his hands balled into fists, muttering angrily to himself, he spotted Louise standing by herself, and he saw red.
"You!" he snarled, striding over to her, and she looked up at him.
"Back up," she said, holding out her arm. "You almost killed me once; you're not getting that chance again."
"'Almost killed you'? Rubbish! Don't be so dramatic!" he scoffed. Louise glared at him.
"I had dehydration, hypothermia, gangrene, and blood poisoning. Just one of those things can kill a person. I had them all, because of you," she informed him.
"Bull, did you have all of that. You're lying. That fall must've given you brain damage."
"Well, if I do have brain damage, it's because I'm standing here talking to you!"
"I bet you don't even need those crutches." Louise tightened her grip on them.
"Wanna try and take them and find out?"
"What, so you can get me charged with something else? Is there anything you won't do?"
"Uh-oh, there aren't any wells around here," said Louise, after surveying the ground. "Looks like your fresh outta luck." Logan's face reddened.
"It was an accident!" he snapped. He got closer, pointing at her face. Louise stood her ground, refusing to back away. If she hadn't had been such a coward the last time he approached her, she might not have ended up in the well. Besides, knowing her luck, he would probably push her into the street, and she'd get hit by a bus, or something. "But you just watch your back, because the second one won't be!" Louise couldn't say anything, as Logan had continued down the street. Looking back at the door, she saw Gene and Tina.
"Finally!" she huffed. "Come on, hurry up; I wanna get home before it gets dark." Tina and Gene did not say anything, but followed her, and they made their way home. "What the hell took you guys so long?" she snapped.
"I couldn't get my locker open," said Tina quietly.
"You kids are quiet," said Bob that evening at dinner. Louise kept her eyes on her plate, looking unconcerned, but Gene and Tina exchanged guilty looks. "What is it?" Gene opened his mouth, but then closed it. Tina began to groan.
"What's the matter?" asked Linda.
"Logan threatened Louise today after school!" said Tina, and Bob and Linda's jaws dropped.
"What?!" Linda shrieked, and Louise jumped slightly, looking up. "Louise, he threatened you? Why didn't you say anything, baby?"
"You heard him?!" Louise glared at her siblings.
"Louise, what did he say?" asked Bob.
"Nothing, it's no big deal."
"What did he say?"
"He said to her, 'watch your back, the second time won't be an accident," said Gene.
"That little jerk just can't help himself, can he?" Bob fumed. He rose from his chair, and left the kitchen.
"Bobby, where are you going?"
"I'll be back soon," he called.
"Oh, God, you don't think he's gone to find Logan, do you?" Linda looked worried.
"Dad's not that bright," shrugged Louise.
"Wait, maybe he is!" Gene gasped, then he shrugged. "Nah, you're probably right."
Bob returned a few hours later, and entered the living-room, where his family was watching a movie.
"Bobby! Bobby, what'd you do?" Linda almost spilt her wine. Almost.
"Relax, Lin."
"But what'd you do? Where'd you go?"
"I went down to the police station," Bob seemed to be containing a smile, "and I got Louise a restraining order against Logan."
"What?"
"He's not allowed to come near her, he's not allowed to contact her in any way; no texts, phone calls, letters, or carrier pigeons." He held out the order and handed it to Louise.
"Uh, no offence, Dad, but this is just a piece of paper."
"No, Louise, this is a court order; if he comes near you or contacts you, he'll be arrested."
"I thought he already got arrested."
"He did. If he approaches you again, he'll be arrested again. But he obviously can't control his temper, and so if he has any sense, he'll stay away from you."
"Fine by me," Louise muttered, turning back to the TV.
"You sure this isn't just going to make them madder at us?" whispered Linda when Bob had sat down.
"I'm just concerned for her safety, Lin. I feel better knowing that he can't come near her."
As the date for the trial loomed nearer, Bob and Linda focused their attention on the restaurant, and their kids. It was now the summer holidays, and business was still good for them. Over the past couple of weeks, it had slowed down, but now they were maintaining a steady pace.
Louise was now able to bus tables and run food, but Bob insisted she come and do prep every so often to keep her from getting too tired.
"Bobby, have you seen my concealer? I need to cover my under eye circles," said Linda, lifting plates, and checking underneath packs of buns.
"Um, no, why would you think I've seen it?"
"I thought you might have used it to cover up another pimple."
"Oh, my God. I haven't seen your makeup, Lin, and if I had, I wouldn't leave it in the kitchen."
"Huh, must've used it all up. That's my sixth one. Oh, well. Oh, and Gene needs some more samples."
"Okay; give me about five minutes."
A few nights later, Linda's eyes opened at the sound of quiet moaning; she sat up, as did Bob.
"I'll go," she offered, getting out of bed and putting on her dressing gown. She went through the hall and into Louise's room, where she was fidgeting in her sleep. Kuchi Kopi was on the floor, and Linda picked it up. "Come on, now, sweetie," she whispered, placing her hand on her daughter's forehead. "It's all right," she soothed, gently stroking Louise's head as she continued to squirm. Usually, the feeling of someone's hand on her head was enough to let Louise know that she wasn't alone, she wasn't trapped underground.
Linda continued to whisper to her, but Louise seemed to be having a particularly bad nightmare and her whimpering grew louder. "Okay, baby, come on," Linda said quietly, pulling the covers back. "Come with me," she gently took Louise's arm, being quick to catch her daughter as she almost overbalanced and fell, and led her into her and Bob's bedroom.
There, she put Louise in the bed, and climbed in next to her, and Linda stroked Louise's temple, just above her eyebrow, while she twitched, not fully awake. She eventually soothed her back to sleep. "Bobby," she said the next morning, "I really think we ought to get Louise some therapy. She's not getting better."
"I know, Lin. I know I've been saying that she won't talk about it, but she does need it."
"She's lost her spark," said Linda sadly, and it was true; Louise was different. She wasn't the same Louise anymore; she had lost that something that made her Louise. "All right, I'm gonna start looking later. Oh, there's my babies," she beamed as her children entered the restaurant. "Louise, honey, we're going to get you a therapist," she said before she could stop herself.
"I don't think so."
"Your father and I feel that it would be good for you."
"Yeah, well, you know nothing."
"Louise, it would really help you, so you're going."
"I don't want to go."
"It would do you a lot of good."
"No!"
"In fact," Linda continued, "I think it would do us all some good. They have sessions for families."
"Absolutely not."
"Louise, you can't just expect to go on with your life as if nothing happened. That week you were trapped was the worst time of my life."
"Worst time of your life?" Louise muttered. She shot her parents a dark look. "I'm not going, end of story."
Two customers decided to enter at that moment, putting an end to the conversation.
In between working, physical therapy, looking for therapists, and parenting, Linda had managed to find the time to take Louise back to a doctor, hoping they could help her this time. There had to be something they could give her for the constant head and stomach aches. Surely, the doctors would be able to help with the nightmares, and the mood swings.
Bob knew it wasn't good news by the expression on Linda's face when they arrived home. Louise went over to sit with Gene and Tina, looking unimpressed.
"He said she has anxiety," she whispered, a few tears running down her face. "My little baby has anxiety!"
"How can we help her?"
"There's medication," Linda sniffled, wiping her eyes, "but I don't like the idea of pumping her full of pills. And there's also a kind of therapy. They said if she hasn't improved in four weeks, to bring her back."
"Okay, well, if you don't want to give her pills, then we'll try the therapy. If that doesn't work, then.. we'll have to give her the medication."
Less than three weeks later, the Belchers' were sat in Ocean City Crown Court, waiting for the trial to start. The bailiff was waiting for the judge to enter, as was the jury.
Bob was sat at the plaintiff's table, next to their lawyer, Jim Radcliffe, while the rest of his family were sat behind him. It was decided that as Louise was so young, she would sit on the public bench, unless she was needed to testify, in which case she would be called to the stand.
Logan was sat at the defendant's table, next to the Bush's lawyer, a serious looking man, a big briefcase on the table.
"All rise," announced the bailiff, as the judge entered the room, "the honourable Judge Briars presiding. Please be seated."
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Calling the case of the Louise Belcher vs Logan Bush. Are both sides ready? Will the clerk please swear in the jury?" he asked, when both lawyers had given the okay, and the clerk rose.
"Will the jury please stand and raise your right hand? Do each of you swear that you will fairly try the case before this court, and that you will return a true verdict according to the evidence and the instructions of the court, so help you, God? Please say "I do".
"I do," came the jumble of voices.
"You may be seated," finished the clerk. Ron Sheldon, the Bush's lawyer, took the floor.
"Your Honour, and ladies and gentlemen of the jury," he began, "the defendant has been charged with the crime of aggravated assault and battery against a minor. The evidence will show that an altercation between my client and the minor in question led to the minor falling into a well. The evidence I present will prove to you that my client meant no malice. I strongly feel that my client has been unfairly treated by the defendant's family for what was merely an accident on his part."
Then it was Jim's turn to address the room.
"Your Honour and ladies and gentlemen of the jury; today you will hear the truth; you will learn the history between Mr. Bush and Miss Belcher, and you will know why it has reached this far. Miss Belcher was simply running an errand for her father, when she encountered the teenage boy who had been bullying her. In an attempt to physically harm her, Mr Bush approached Miss Belcher, issuing a threat. He then assaulted her by shoving her, hard enough to send her stumbling backwards, where she fell eighty feet down a well.
"Miss Belcher would remain in the well for five days, before being rescued, and would spend two months recovering from injuries. Your Honour, the evidence today will prove that the accused is a bully whose anger issues almost cost a child her life, and he will likely only get worse."
Louise zoned out as the first witness was called; her mother. This was all so boring; when were they going to get to the part where they threw Logan in jail?
After several hours, Sheldon rose again, to present his case.
"Your Honour, I do not dispute that the actions of my client caused some terrible injuries for Miss Belcher," he began. "However, there is no way my client could have predicted the outcome would have been what it was. But Miss Belcher is not entirely blameless. Many witness accounts – even from the family of my client – have described Miss Belcher as a very intelligent young girl. Why is this important, you ask? Miss Belcher is known to have antangonised my client; she would deliberately seek him out in order to annoy him. She was known to be 'fearless', the sort of child who wouldn't back down from a challenge. It is claimed that Miss Belcher went so far as to hire a biker gang to cut off my clients' ears. I ask you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, does that sound like the kind of child that can be bullied?"
Bob and Linda were silently fuming, while Cynthia looked over at them smugly. "Of course, I admit, my client is not completely blameless; he's admitted to the push that led to this incident. He simply acted out in a moment of madness, and the unfortunate accident occurred."
Bob could not believe what he was hearing; did he actually expect the jury to fall for that tripe?
Jim Radcliffe took the floor, and put the case across very simply.
"Your Honour, I don't doubt that Miss Belcher 'antagonised' Mr. Bush," he began. "It has been well-documented that Miss Belcher is stubborn and strong-willed; however, this does not excuse the fact that Mr. Bush was already in therapy for anger issues, and was bullying a little girl. Not just bullying; twice, before the incident occurred, Mr. Bush attempted to assault Miss Belcher, and has intimidated and threatened her several times. First, he tricked her into leaving her home, with the intention of performing a wrestling move on her, in an attempt to cause her physical pain. The second time, he attempted to throw ice-hardened snowballs at her, again with the intention of physically harming her.
"These are not the only times Mr. Bush has harrassed Miss Belcher; the very first time they met, he would not allow her or her siblings to walk a certain way home. The second time they met, he stole her hat, an important item of hers, and made her think that her possession, which carries deep, sentimental value, had been burned, and gone forever.
"The biker story is nothing more than an attempt to discredit Miss Belcher, and her family; the biker gang themselves have denied this, and even though they would consider themselves friends of the Belcher family, the gang have said they would not lie for them. The only evidence for that is the word of the defendant.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I bring you back to my previous statement; because this young man could not control his temper, a little girl spent five days in a well, almost dying because of it. She spent even longer in hospital, and has had several surgeries, including amputations, and is left with back problems, scarring, and permanent hearing loss. Thank you," and he returned to his seat.
Bob and Linda were beginning to feel very confident.
"The prosecution may call its' second witness," said Judge Briars, and Radcliffe rose once again.
"I call Mandy Stieblitz to the stand." Louise turned in her seat to see Rudy's cousin rise from the back of the room, and approach the judge.
Now it was Bob and Linda's turn to look smug; this was their trump card.
"Please stand," said the clerk. "Raise your right hand. Do you promise that the testimony you shall give in the case before this court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
"I do."
"Please state your first and last name."
"Amanda Stieblitz."
"You may be seated," Mandy sat down, and Radcliffe approached her.
"Miss Stieblitz, what is your relationship to Miss Belcher?"
"She's friends with my little cousin, Rudy." Mandy looked a little bit nervous, but she felt like this was the right thing to do.
When news of Logan's arrest had broke, a policeman went to Huxley High, to see if there was any witnesses to his harassment of Louise. Mandy had immediately spoken up, having had personal first hand experience of this.
No less than 11 girls had come forward to say that Logan had bullied them all over the years, treating them very similarly to the way he'd treated Louise. All of them mentioned that he'd only stopped when they grew taller than he.
"And you claim that Mr. Bush bullied you, also?"
"Yes, sir. Not just me; almost all the girls in my class."
"When did he start?"
"I was in fifth grade, and so was he. He used to trip me, call me names, and knock my books out of my hand, and one time, he tripped me in the cafeteria, so I dropped my food all down me."
"Does this bullying continue?"
"No, sir."
"When and why did it stop?"
"It stopped when I was about 13, and I was finally taller than him. He still calls me names whenever he sees me, but it's better than what he used to do."
"You believe that's why he stopped bullying you?"
"Yes sir; all of my friends who were bullied by Logan, it only stopped after they grew as tall as or taller than him."
"I see. And did you ever witness Mr. Bush harassing Miss Belcher?"
"Yes, sir. It was during the snowfall, and he and his friends wouldn't let the kids sled, and were throwing snowballs at them. Rudy asked me to come to try and get them to leave."
"And did you get them to leave?"
"Yes, sir."
"How?"
"I threw snowballs at him; I'm on the softball team, so they wanted someone who was good at throwing."
"Can you describe to the court what happened next?"
"Logan and his friends left, and I stayed for a bit to watch my cousin sled. They came back with Cameron, who's on the basketball team, and he threw huge snowballs at us, so we left."
"And did you return the next day?"
"Yeah; Rudy saw Louise, her brother, and sister heading for the hill, and he was worried, so he called me."
"Why was he worried?"
"He said that Logan was going to be there, and he didn't want anyone to get hurt."
"And what happened next?"
"My friend Sarah overheard, and she was bullied by Logan, too, and she wanted to hit him with snowballs. So, we called up all the girls who Logan bullied, and asked if they wanted to join us, and they all said yes."
"What happened when you arrived?"
"Logan was about to throw the hard snowballs at Louise, Gene and Tina, and we threw them at him. They were wearing armour."
"Armour?"
"The kids were wearing saucepans, and baking sheets under their clothes, so they wouldn't get hit."
"No further questions, Your Honour."
Logan's lawyer did not have many witnesses, as not many had wanted to, and Bob felt that Ron Sheldon kept coming back to the whole "he meant no harm" spiel, as he repeated it several times. Currently, Cynthia was on the stand.
"And, Mrs. Bush, was what your reaction when you discovered that Miss Belcher was stuck in the well?"
"I was shocked; I knew my son couldn't have done it on purpose. I was also angry at the workmen who left it unfilled and uncapped."
"Were you at all worried about Miss Belcher?"
"Well, of course I was! That's why we stayed for hours that first night, to see if they would get her out."
"The prosecution claims that you and your son returned to the well site a few days later, saying that you were both being harrassed. Is that true?"
"I think we were all feeling the strain," said Cynthia, "and everyone was under a lot of pressure. Perhaps I was a bit angry at them, but that was because I felt my son and I were being treated unfairly. It was an accident. I really feel that if the well had been filled in, this wouldn't have happened. I just hope another little child doesn't have to go through that."
Louise sighed and rested her chin in her hands. How much longer was this going to go on?
"Mr. Belcher, can you please stand," the judge had asked at the end of the first day. He was only middle-aged, but Louise took one look at his round, wrinkled face, and decided that he was 80; the same age as her dad. "As you know," he continued, "Mrs. Bush has also filed a counter-claim against you, claiming that you harassed her son."
"Yes, Your Honour," Bob had said.
"What exactly did you say?"
"I said that if he ever touched my daughter again, I was going to tear his head off his shoulders," Bob admitted. "I only said that because, at the time, my nine-year-old daughter had been buried in a well for three days with no food and little water. She'd just told us that she was afraid she was going to die," he'd said, and a visible ripple had run through the court room. "So, I was really afraid, and under a lot of stress."
"Thank you, Mr. Belcher, that will be all."
"So, when are they gonna tell us when he's going to jail?" Louise asked as the judge dismissed them.
"We won't find out 'til tomorrow," Bob told her.
"What?!" Louise shrieked, "so I've wasted a whole day here, for nothing?" She tugged at the collar of the black dress she had been made to wear, frowning.
"You didn't waste your day."
"Oh, didn't I? I just spend five hours sat on a bench, listening to the most boring stuff ever!"
"The boring stuff needs to be gotten out of the way, sweetie," said Linda. "Tomorrow's where they show all the evidence to the jury, and then we'll get the verdict."
The following day, they were back in the courtroom, where Ron Sheldon was presenting his final argument.
"Your Honour, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, what we have here, is a classic example of an accident blown out of proportion. Now, I am not talking about the rescue effort needed to save this child's life; please understand that I have no problem with that. I am talking about the unfair treatment that my client and his family have received during and after this accident.
"Now, you have heard about how my client and Miss Belcher would butt heads; this is undisputed. But my client is not as evil and heartless as he has been made out to be. Firstly, Mr. Bush approached Miss Belcher on the evening of Friday, the 22nd of February of this year, wanting an apology. Ladies and gentlemen, a simple apology for when Miss Belcher accidentally threw a rotten melon on him. My client felt humiliated, and perhaps did not react in the best way. But he reacted the only way he knew how; by wrestling. My client was enrolled in several classes; karate, wrestling, and he felt that this was how problems were solved.
"Mr. Bush admits that he was still angry at Miss Belcher when he saw her that Friday night, and wanted to perform this wrestling move on her. When she fell in the well, Mr. Bush immediately dropped to his knees, concerned for Miss Belcher. He did go home without telling anyone, admittedly, but my client was in a state of shock, and was having trouble coming to terms with what had happened. My client was remorseful, and returned to the well site to apologise to Miss Belcher, and stayed for almost five hours to watch the rescue proceedings. Mr. Bush and his mother felt that there was nothing they could do to help, so they left, but continued to follow the updates.
"Mr. Bush and his family showed complete concern over Miss Belcher for the following five days, and after her rescue, they tried to move on with their lives. However, Mr. Bush was bullied and isolated at school, with Mrs. Bush experiencing similar ill treatment. My client's schoolwork has suffered, which will likely affect his grades. They feel that bringing this case to court is wholly unnecessary, as Miss Belcher has recovered and is back at school; her hospital bills have been paid, and so Mrs. Bush can't understand why it has come to this."
Linda was shaking her head; she'd never heard such claptrap in her life. But it was now Radcliffe's turn, and he wasn't going to go easy on them.
"Your Honour, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my opponent is doing the best to minimise the emotional and physical damage this young man has caused Miss Belcher and her family. On the evening of February 22nd, Mr. Bush approached Miss Belcher with the intention of physically hurting her, as shown here," he pressed a button, and the CCTV footage of that day was played on the screen. "Let's not forget that he admitted to this in his own police statement. He claimed to only want to perform a wrestling move on her, but pushed her, as he was angry. Mr. Bush also admits in his police statement, that if Miss Belcher hadn't fallen in the well, he would have continued to physically harm her.
"When she ended up in the well, he then ran off and left her there, without telling anybody what he had done. Miss Belcher was discovered half an hour later by two teenage girls, who alerted her parents. If they had not found her, it may have taken more than a day to locate where she was. By all accounts, if the rescue workers had started their digging a day later, Miss Belcher would have died.
"Mr. Bush showed no remorse for Miss Belcher; he only returned to apologise when the police arrived at his house. Both he and his mother still don't seem to understand the severity of the situation; it does not matter that the well was not filled in. Louise Belcher would not have spent 114 hours trapped 80 feet underground had she not been pushed by her bully. Mr. Bush continued to go about his life, completely unconcerned for Miss Belcher's safety; only caring about his treatment at school. He and his mother only returned to the well site to complain to the Belcher parents about the way they had been treated, which was not due to anything the Belchers' said or did." As he spoke, Radcliffe flipped through photos of Louise strapped to the backboard, bruised and dirty, and a few of her in the hospital. Bob had been anticipating this, and so he had secretly taken a few, including one of her in the recovery room, with the oxygen mask over her nose and mouth, and her arms strapped to boards.
"Once Miss Belcher was freed from the well, her ordeal was far from over. She spent more than four hours in the emergency room, followed by two months in hospital, two weeks of which were spent in intensive care. She needed treatment for various internal and external injuries, including dehydration, hypothermia, kidney failure, blood poisoning, a fractured tailbone, gangrene, which was advanced enough for Miss Belcher to have amputations; she also suffered from reduced blood circulation to her limbs. Whilst in hospital, she suffered from psychosis, in which she ripped out her IV's, and had to re-learn how to walk. And most recently, Mr. Bush has again threatened Miss Belcher, telling to 'watch her back,' and the second time 'won't be an accident.' Mr. Belcher is so concerned for his daughter's safety that he had to issue a restraining order against Mr. Bush.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I reiterate this; the actions of this young man almost cost a little girl her life."
Now, they were waiting for the jury to return, and read out the verdict. Both families were confident they were going to win.
Bob and Linda didn't see how they could lose; they had photo and video evidence, plus lots of witnesses.
"Has the jury reached a verdict?" asked the judge, and the head juror rose.
"We have, Your Honour," she held a sheet of paper in her hands, which she then gave to the judge.
"Bob Belcher, you have been found not guilty of harassment, and intimidation. Logan Barry Bush, you have been found guilty of aggravated assault in the second degree, and battery with the intention of causing bodily harm. The court sentences you to five years in prison, and ordered to pay $10,000 in compensation. Thank you, Jury, for your service today. Court is adjourned."
"No!" Cynthia shrieked, as the bailiffs approached her son. "You can't do this!" She turned to face a juror as Logan was, again, placed in handcuffs. "Why are you doing this? How can you do this?!"
"It was unanimous, ma'am," said one juror. "We all agreed that as Logan admitted he approached Louise that day with the intention of harming her, it counts as premeditation."
Louise gave Logan a smile as he was led away.
"Wow, does that mean we get $10,000?" asked Tina.
"That's what the judge said," said Bob.
"Wow! $10,000!" cried Gene, bouncing on his chair.
"Don't get too excited Gene; the money's mine. I'm gonna spend it on... I don't know what yet, but it's gonna be big."
"You know," said Bob, "we could use a bit of it so we can go to Japan," and Louise brightened a little.
"Yes! Now we definitely get to go to Japan!"
"All right!" Linda cheered.
~ X ~
Done! What did you think?
I'm so glad to finally reveal Logan's comeuppance.
I hope you enjoyed reading!