Chapter 21

Still Barb’s turn:

I walked out into the waiting room where Mimsy wrapped me up in her arms. She held me and whispered, “Fourteen! You coulda told me, kiddo!”

Deputy Brad came in shaking his head. We gathered near him. “You didn’t hear it from me, but our hero’s gonna require surgery. Some little girl kicked his gonads in.”

“He tried to rape me,” I restated.

“Well, that’s Level One of his repercussions. Y’all wanna come to the station with me. Official statements and stuff. And I have to open that can of worms. Fourteen, and living together...”

“We’re perfectly legal,” Paul said calmly.

“Like I said, you don’t ACT like a criminal. D’you mind following me?”

“I’m coming, too,” Mimsy asserted. “Me ‘n’ the sheriff went to high school together. Y’all ride with me. I’ll bring you back to get your truck.”

I expected Paul to kick, but he must’ve sensed that Mimsy had something to say before we got to the sheriff’s office, so off we went.

“Y’all get in the back seat, Paul. I suspect Barb needs hugging.”

“So I guess this means I’m not on your list of child molesters.”

“Maybe if I hadn’t spent two weeks or so with Barb. No way I figured she was fourteen. And I get to say what I believe and be upset by whatever I choose. I’m old enough to know the difference between you and Paul and the way you care for each other and a teen girl being used and not knowing any better, or not caring, for that matter.”

“This whole thing has me worried,” Paul stated. I looked at him. He’s tense in a way I’ve never seen before. “Dealing with the law means dealing with people’s opinions and interpretations.”

“We’ll get through this,” I said, trying to soothe him.

“What do you know about these people, Mimsy? Sheriff. District attorney.”

“I went to school with the sheriff. He’s just plain people. The DA, well, he’s from the county seat. I don’t know him, other than he seems to take care of business. I’m praying...”

Not a bad idea. Gramma and Grampa were irregular church attendees, a few times a year outside the customary weddings and funerals, so prayer wasn’t more than an idea in my life. Today’s a good day to drag that idea up. I don’t even know what to say, so it’s something like ‘Lord, I’m in trouble and my husband’s in trouble. We used Your name at our wedding, so I’m asking You now to see us through this mess so Paul and I can live our lives.’ It’ll have to do. I’m not in a position to take lessons.

“That kid’s been in trouble before for crap like this,” Mimsy said. “His grandparents pulled every string they had to keep him out of juvie at least twice.”

“D’you have proof of that?” Paul blurted.

“No, but it’s pretty common knowledge in town.”

“How,” I asked, “does somebody walk around on the street after pulling crap like that?”

“It was in the big town up the road. They moved here two years ago, he’s kept his nose clean. I heard that the grandparents paid off a couple of families.”

“And the sheriff and DA have this knowledge?” Paul questioned.

“I’d imagine so. They might not admit it.”

“D’ya know a good lawyer?” Paul asked. “This might get sticky.”

“I know a guy who’s outside the local area. That might be a selling point.”

“Might be,” Paul said. “Let’s see what they roll out when we get there.”

Just like that I’m tossed into a world I’ve never experienced. ‘Law and order’ was something I gave little thought. Things were just ‘normal’ and I didn’t worry. Crimes happened to other people and honestly I never gave second thought to corruption and influences in government.

And here were are.

We pulled into the parking lot at the sheriff’s department and went inside, not before I patted Paul on the arm and told him to calm down, that everything would be all right. We went inside, were shunted off to a conference room. Paul sat between me and Mimsy. He stood up when two men entered the room, one in a suit, I’m imagining ‘district attorney’, the other in rather obvious uniform, so, ‘sheriff’.

Paul dove in, shaking hands, introducing us to both the gentlemen who in turn, introduced themselves. I paid attention. “This is my wife, Barbara...” Indeed. No sense in being tentative about it. Neither of the men frowned. I took that as a good sign.

The sheriff indicated chairs around the table. “Please, folks, sit down.”

Easy enough. Why is my stomach doing flip-flops? Paul saw it, reached for my hand, gave me a little squeeze.

Okay, chalk it up to social awkwardness caused by me being ‘on the spectrum’. I killed the silence with “What’s going to happen with the guy who attacked me?”

Both men looked a bit startled. I guess it’s because I’m the kid in a roomful of adults. After a bit of a pause, the sheriff spoke.

“Uh, last word I got, he’s in the hospital, under arrest, and they’re scheduling surgery for him tomorrow...”

I fingered the collar of my torn shirt, held in place by a couple of safety pins provided by a nurse in the emergency room.

The sheriff continued, “ ... apparently he got his crotch kicked in by a little girl...”

“Hardly the result one expects from a football star,” the DA followed. “We’re chargin’ him as an adult, with attempted rape and battery. He probably didn’t expect his refusal to be so emphatic.”

“Emphatic,” I repeated. “Good word.” I looked at Mimsy. “I heard this isn’t the first time he’s been...”

“We’re aware,” the DA replied. “I’m new at this job. Let’s just say I lack some of the connections to the previous administration and I don’t intend on dispensing their brand of justice.” He nodded towards the sheriff. “Prosecuting this instead of sweeping it under the rug is going to make Sheriff Dakes sleep better, too.”

I laced my fingers together on the table. Satisfied. “Thank you, sir...”

“But we still have questions ... Fourteen?”

“I got the answer, sir,” Paul stated, laying a sheaf of papers on the table. “Waivers of minority. Emancipation. Marriage license. Certificate of marriage. And the hospital says she shows no old signs of physical abuse.”

The corner of the sheriff’s mouth turned up as he restrained a smirk. He pulled the papers over, sharing them with the DA.

The DA perused the pages for a bit, looked up. “You know, folks, we could make a mountain out of this. I dunno, put this guy in jail, put Mizz Barbara in foster care, file charges, then go back and forth between us and the people who signed off on this in Louisiana. We’d create a lot of turmoil, and in my opinion, inconvenience and abuse people who didn’t deserve it. Sheriff, I’m of the mind to cite the common law, that a marriage in ONE state is automatically accepted in another. I mean, Mizz Mimsy...”

“Like I said, since Paul and Barb showed up, they’ve been good people. Barb’s been working with me, my business is actually MAKING money. They’ve been social, not disruptive, we’ve dined together, cooked together, sat out together in the evenings. I was surprised to find out she’s fourteen, but I thought, ‘college girl, might look a little younger, but who knows...”

“Tell me about this college thing, if you would, Mizz Barbara.”

I glanced at Paul. Imperceptible nod. “I left traditional schools when I was living with my grandparents. They took on home-schooling me. Paul showed up as a person who could tutor me in math at a level higher than Grampa. Didn’t take us long to pass up high school level work, so he pointed me to online studies. MIT ... I registered in their distance learning, so, yessir. College.”

“Also getting ready to publish a young adult novel,” Paul added.

“Really?!?” the sheriff blurted.

Okay, this is where I finally decided that Paul wasn’t going to jail. The conversation went on into writing, mine and Paul’s, our lifestyle, Paul’s project work.

Finally, the announcement. The DA stated, “I appreciate Harry (the sheriff) bringing this situation to my attention, but honestly, first, I think I’m on safe ground accepting a Louisiana marriage, and second, nobody seems to have any problem with you two as a couple. Heaven knows, we’ve seen plenty couples that I can’t put in that same category. So, you’re free to go. Mizz Barbara, we’re going to want to get an interview, in depth, about the incident.”

“I understand, sir,” I said. “Tomorrow morning, nineish?”

“I’ll bring her,” Paul said. “Minor. I can be the adult present.”

“Good deal. Folks,” the sheriff said, standing, “I think we’re done here today.” He looked at me. “Self-defense. He’s gonna need reconstructive surgery. Might ... Well, you know...”

“Sucks to be him,” Paul stated. “Attacking teenaged girls.”

“Yeah...”

We got in Mimsy’s SUV and started back to retrieve Paul’s truck.

“That went a lot better than it could have,” Mimsy commented.

“Yes, ma’am,” Paul answered. “I mean, I KNOW we’re married, but there was this really good chance that it would cost a lot of heartache to prove that here in Texas...”

She shook her head. “Fourteen ... I guess I’m glad you didn’t tell me up front. I don’t know how I would’ve handled that. I have a niece who’s fourteen, and I just can’t ... No, not her ... married.” She smiled. “I can understand your not telling me. Now I’m glad I know. Puts things in a different light.”

When we got home didn’t want to upset people,” Paul stated. “This is our marriage. We’re happy with it, and we want others to see happiness and add it to theirs. But the age thing, we thought that it might be a bit of a hurdle, so we kept our mouths shut.”

“And if today hadn’t happened, nobody would’ve found out, although I did wonder when you didn’t drive, Barb.”