Chapter 69: Thank You for Being a Friend

October 2, 1988, Chicago, Illinois

"I have to say, I'm not surprised," I said.

"I want to help her!" Stephanie said. "Do you think we could bail her out?"

"Could we? Yes. Should we? I don't think so. Maybe this will get her to seek help."

"I can't just leave my friend in jail, Big Brother! I can't!"

"Melanie is here. Why don't we talk to her and see what she says? But I think bailing Chrissy out of jail is a bad idea."

"Maybe. Let's talk to Melanie."

"Wait here," I said. "I'll go get her."

I went to the sunroom and whispered into Melanie's ear that I urgently needed to talk to her, and asked her to come to the Indian room.

"Are you or Stephanie in trouble?" she asked once we got there.

"No. It's Stephanie's friend Chrissy," I said, nodding to my sister.

"She was arrested this morning for cocaine possession in her dorm at UofC. My friend Lisa found out and just called me. I told Steve I want to bail her out!"

"You might or might not be able to, at least today. It's unlikely she'd get in front of a judge today to set bond, and a lot will depend on circumstances. A first offense, with personal use amounts, she might even get a recognizance bond, if she lives in Chicago."

"She's from New York," my sister said.

"With no ties to the area, then, she'll most likely need to post a cash bond. It's a felony, even in small amounts, but the amount matters. If it's enough, and she were to have shared it with someone, they could try for a trafficking charge. Not likely, but they could. Do you have any idea how much cocaine she allegedly had with her?"

"I have no idea. I don't think Lisa knows, either."

"She may have bigger problems," Melanie said. "It could be turned into a federal case, because she would have violated the Controlled Substance Act. Of more immediate concern is that UofC expels students for drug possession, so even if she avoids jail time and gets off with just a fine, she'll be expelled. They're pretty much 'zero tolerance' there."

"Good," I said.

"Steve!" Stephanie wailed. "This is my friend we're talking about."

"Squirt, she needs help. She had the chance when they didn't arrest her after she OD'd here."

"What?" Melanie said, clearly shocked.

Stephanie nodded, "At my end-of-the-semester party in May. We didn't know about it, and I found her passed out in the bathroom with blood coming from her nose. Steve called 9-1-1, and the paramedics came, along with a bunch of cops."

"I know you well enough that you didn't let them search your house," Melanie said to me.

"I made them get a warrant. But because there was nothing here for them to find, I wasn't worried. If there had been a problem, I'd have called you. Trust me on that one."

"Does she have a lawyer?"

"I doubt it," Stephanie said. "Could you help her?"

"Maybe, assuming she wants my help and can pay the retainer we require. If you give me her name, I can find out if she's been entered into the system yet, and if she has an attorney assigned to her, or named one of her own. Most likely, because it's Sunday, she'll sit in the lockup until an arraignment and bond hearing at some point tomorrow."

"That sucks!" Stephanie complained.

"Squirt, do any of you know how to get in touch with her family back in New York?" I asked.

"I don't. Maybe Lisa or Peggy or Melody does. I'll call them. Melanie, you'll tell me what you find out?"

"As much as I'm permitted to, yes."

"Her name is Chrissy, well Christine, Teague. She's from Brooklyn, New York."

"And she was arrested at University of Chicago?"

"Yes, in her dorm."

"OK to use the phone?" Melanie asked me.

"Yes. Use my study, please. You'll have complete privacy."

Melanie thanked me and left the Indian room and walked the few paces to my study. She shut the door behind her just as Jessica came into the Indian room.

"What's going on?"

"Stephanie's friend, the OD, was arrested. Stephanie asked Melanie to help her."

"The OD?" Stephanie growled, her voice seething with outrage. "SHE HAS A NAME!"

"Relax, Stephanie," Jessica said gently. "That's how we refer to patients. Steve was just using the shorthand because he knows that's how I would remember her. I couldn't tell you the names of 99% of the patients I see."

"It just sounds degrading," Stephanie protested.

"Maybe, but in a busy ER, we just don't have the luxury of learning and remembering names. If we remember, it's usually because something very bad happened. On rare occasions, it's like Bethany's situation, where Doctor Barton took a special interest in her case because it was such an amazing save."

"Sorry," Stephanie said. "I'm just worried about her and Steve doesn't seem to care!"

"I bet he does," Jessica said. "But he cares like I care — more for her health and kicking the habit, than being worried about her spending a night in jail."

We waited for about ten minutes before Melanie returned.

"She's in the Grand Crossing police lockup. They'll take her downtown tomorrow. She doesn't have an attorney, so she'll either get a bar lawyer or a PD."

"Bar lawyer?" I asked.

"The Bar Association sends attorneys to all arraignment hearings. You can hire them for a fixed fee to represent you, at least for the arraignment. After that, it depends. I can probably be at the arraignment and ask if she wants my help."

"Would you?" Stephanie said. "I'll pay your fee!"

"Careful, Squirt. Shysters are NOT cheap!"

"Steve Adams, I'll have Pete come in here and shoot you in the kneecap if you aren't careful!"

"Wow!" I chuckled. "I'd expect that from Joyce or Jake, who are both Italian, not a German-Irish girl like you!"

"The temper of an Irish lass and the feistiness of a German! Don't cross me!"

"I haven't 'crossed' you since you and Pete got back together!" I teased.

"That's it Bub! No more kisses for you!"

"I've had better," I said smugly as I quickly took two steps backward.

"He can still wind you up like nobody's business," Pete laughed, standing in the door.

"How long have YOU been there?" Melanie barked.

"Long enough to hear him call you a 'shyster'," Pete said.

"Argh!" Melanie groaned. "Be careful, Petey!"

"Why don't you come hang with the guys, Steve? For all our sakes!"

"OK, Pete. My work is done here, anyway!"

Melanie glared at me, and I stuck my tongue out at her, then left with Pete.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"One of my sister's friends was arrested. Stephanie asked Melanie for advice."

"Drugs?"

"Yep. We knew she had a problem, so she was banned from the house."

"Any chance any of her other friends are involved?"

"I don't think so, but you never know."

October 3, 1988, Chicago, Illinois

"Chrissy's parents wired money for her to post bond," Stephanie said as we walked to karate.

"And?" I asked.

"She's not allowed to leave Illinois, which is a problem because UofC won't let her back into her dorm."

"She hasn't been convicted!" I protested.

"The drugs were in the room. That's sufficient for them. Her roommate is under investigation. They share a room, and in Illinois, the roommate could apparently be charged with possession as well."

"Say what?" I asked.

"Melanie said the law is like that. But in a university dorm, if the stuff is in one person's dresser or clothes or whatever, they usually don't do anything to the other person."

"Wait a minute! You mean the drugs being in our house, on the floor of the bathroom, could have gotten everyone in the house arrested?"

"It sure sounds like it," she said.

"Fuck me," I sighed.

"OK!" Jessica giggled.

"Me, too!" Kara agreed.

"Later!" I chuckled. "I do need to call Melanie and ask her about this."

"That's a scary thought," Jessica said.

"Tell me about it," I sighed.

We walked into the dojo and I was pleased to see Jolene was there. Well, at least until I saw her withering glare. She was obviously pissed, but I couldn't do anything about it now. I took my place to her left and waited for Sensei Jim to come to the front of the dojo. He did so a minute later and looked at Jolene, then looked at me, and shook his head. I was going to be called to his office after class.

We did our exercises and when it was time to train, I knew I was in trouble.

"Kells, take the junior belts into the small training room and work with them."

Yep, real trouble.

"Adams. Baxter. Sparring."

Jolene glared at me as we walked over to get our sparring gear. Jolene put her gear on quickly; I was more deliberate. We faced each other, and then turned to bow to Sensei, then to each other.

"Begin!" Sensei Jim said.

Jolene attacked with fury. I focused on blocking, not even trying to strike back. Every bit of anger Jolene had was poured out in her blows. Anger at me. Anger at Sensei Jim. Anger at fate or god or the universe.

"Stop!" Sensei Jim barked.

Jolene struck three more times, all of which landed because I'd lowered my guard as commanded. I simply turned to face Sensei after the last blow fell. Jolene's nostrils flared, and she was breathing hard. She turned to face Sensei.

"I'm getting really tired of this. Whatever the problem is between you two is over. Tonight. I mean that. Adams, Baxter, go in the small training room. Send Therese out to me. And you two do NOT come out until the problem is solved. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Sensei!" I said.

"Sure," Jolene said.

I cringed, waiting for the reprimand that didn't come. I bowed and went to the small training room and asked Therese and her students to go back to the main room. Jolene followed me and once the other students left, I shut the door. Before I could even turn around, Jolene struck hard.

"What the fuck?" I exclaimed in surprise. "I wasn't ready!"

"Tough," she said, attacking again.

I blocked but didn't strike back. I was more than willing to let her work out her aggression.

"Fight back, you prick!"

"What the hell is going on?" I asked as she threw a multiple-punch combination.

"Fight back, damn you!" she demanded.

If that's what she wanted, that's what she was going to get. I was better than she was, and she was out of control. For the next ten minutes, I basically pummeled her with punches and kicks and she kept coming back for more. I started throwing her, and when that didn't slow her down, I threw her harder. She fought back like a maniac, but she was so out of control that her strikes were easy to block.

"Jolene!" I barked. "Stop it!"

That only seemed to upset her even more. She was in a blind rage, and she actually tried to strike my knee with a side kick, that if it had connected, would have injured me. I turned it aside, grabbed her leg, and dumped her roughly on her back. I was afraid one of us was going to get hurt, so as she started to get up, I carefully swept her legs and then pounced, pinning her to the mat.

Jolene struggled to get up, but between my weight and strength, she couldn't do so. She began bucking hard and flailing with her arms. I shifted so I was astride of her and pinned her arms over her head. Her attempts to dislodge me became even more violent, but I simply maintained my balance and kept control of her arms. Eventually, she stopped.

"Are you done?" I asked.

"Screw you!" she hissed.

"Not a chance," I said, snidely.

I made myself ready, then quickly sprang to my feet and jumped away from her. But she didn't move as I'd expected.

"Look," I said, "I'm sorry if I upset you, but you need to hear the truth. I don't care if you like it or not!"

"Go! To! Hell!" Jolene spat at me.

"I'm not sure what you want me to do. I don't have a problem with you. I think you have your priorities wrong and your head up your ass, but that's your business at this point. I still want to be your friend. But I can't help you until you decide that you want help, and you're willing to take a good, hard look at yourself.

"Here's the rub. We're stuck in here until YOU decide we can leave. I don't have a problem with you. Sensei Jim doesn't have a problem with you. YOU have a problem with you. And it's all up to you. You aren't going to get your promotion to 2nd Dan and I'm sure as hell not going to have sex with you. And if you tell Sensei that you won't make things right until you get those, he'll kick you out of the dojo. You know it. I know it.

"And yes, Dear Heart," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "you can tell Sensei Jim we had sex and make whatever claims you want about it. It'll hurt me. It might even get me dismissed from the dojo. But I have news for you. I don't give a fuck! I'll take my lumps for being an idiot. You can tell my wives. I don't give a fuck because they already know! You have no leverage. None. Because I just don't care. You can't have what you want, so quit acting like a spoiled toddler and get your shit together!"

Jolene sat up, pulled her legs up to her chest, put her chin on her knees, and glared at me. She was at a crossroads, and I still wasn't sure she realized it. If she didn't change her attitude, she was done at the dojo. Either she'd quit or be kicked out. The only question then would be how much collateral damage would occur. On the other hand, if she decided to change her attitude, she might well get what she wanted, at least from Sensei Jim. I was pretty sure at this point he'd orchestrated this entire situation, not out of malice, but to test both of us. And so far, we'd both failed.

I was at a loss at the moment as to how to proceed. I truly didn't have a problem with Jolene personally. As I'd just said to her, I could be her friend, and that wasn't contingent on anything other than her wanting to be my friend. I could and would help her if she wanted help. I had been convinced that yelling at her had been appropriate, but now it seemed like it had done no good. In fact, it had done no more good than her yelling at me. There was a larger lesson there that Sensei was trying to teach me; one that I should have known from my own personal experience.

"You win," Jolene sighed.

"It's not about winning! I didn't win anything. In fact, I lost. And you lost. Do you really think Sensei Jim is happy with either of us? I'm sure not. Are you?"