DISCLAIMER: I don't know which of his books it came from, but the lines about traffic and silverware came from a book by Chris Crutcher, and it belongs to him. I am using it here without permission. The Space Between is a song by Dave Matthews Band and I have borrowed its name (without permission) for this chapter's title.
Chapter 6 - The Space Between
Franziska stood frozen behind the prosecution bench. Everyone else had left the courtroom, but she was still standing there, reeling in shock from the judge's final statement. That stupid old man... that fool... What the hell was she going to do with four children? She had never even had a pet in her life, much less another human being to take care of. She had no idea how to even begin caring for a child...
After a good five minutes had passed, Detective Gumshoe came back to get her. "Come on, we have to go get the kids and take them to your place..." He took her gently by the hand and led her out of the courtroom. Once they were outside, Franziska shook off her daze and freed her hand from the detective's grip.
The detective wasn't offering any of his usual chatter. The silence was tense and uncomfortable, making Franziska feel pressed to say something. In an effort to make small talk while avoiding the subject of the children, all she could think of to say was, "The circus was... fun, wasn't it?" She sounded so uncertain saying it, however...
"You don't say that like you enjoyed it," the detective replied.
"What was there to enjoy? It was ridiculous, juvenile, foolish-" She broke off her rant when she saw that the detective was laughing at her.
"They told you that cars and trucks were forks and spoons..." This remark was came from so far out of left field, Franziska didn't know what to make of it.
"No one told me that traffic was silverware!" she snapped.
Detective Gumshoe chuckled at her response. "Yeah, that's exactly what the character in the book said, too. What it means is that you were taught the wrong names for things... like, for example, that defeating the defense in court is 'fun'..."
That actually seemed to be a valid observation, but instead of recognizing it, Franziska opted to change the subject. "What book?" she asked curiously. She was surprised when the detective pulled a battered paperback from the pocket of his (new) (stylish) (black) trenchcoat and tossed it to her. She caught it clumsily. It was sports novel, about a high-school athlete forced to participate in an anger management class in order to keep his sports eligibility. She might read it sometime, if she were bored enough... She handed the book back to him. She doubted she would have time for reading for a while. She had something else to look forward to doing at the moment...