Chapter 60: Is the Offer Still Open?

March 2, 1997, Peoria, Illinois

I took Mary to Midway Airport after lunch on Sunday, and then headed south on I-57, instead of heading back home. Henry, Trish, and Elizabeth were handling the Rap Session because I was going to visit Willow before she was sent back to North Dakota. I was still very unhappy about the situation, but as Gwen and others had pointed out, there were no legal means to prevent the two states from doing what they were doing.

My opinion was based on several assumptions, but it was possible, as Kara had pointed out, that there was information I didn’t have which was material to the situation. As I’d replied, what I did know, or could infer, was sufficient to know that sending her back to North Dakota was not in her best interest, especially given she liked her foster family and wanted to stay with them.

This was a case of a situation where I felt society, and the government it had created, had gone off the rails. There was no reason a fourteen-year-old, properly raised and educated, couldn’t make important decisions about her own life. Of course, the key was ‘properly raised and educated’ which was another area where I felt society was going off the rails.

That thought was reinforced by whichever ‘concerned’ parent had called the school to ‘report’ my children walking to school each day. At this point, I could only hope the complete insanity held off for another six or seven years, when all of the kids would be teenagers. Sadly, I didn’t think that would happen, and even if it did, my grandchildren would grow up in a world where they would be treated, in effect, as toddlers well into adolescence, if not longer.

The Rap Sessions were, in effect, a subversive move on my part, at least from society’s point of view. So far, we were building a foundation, based on the things we’d all discovered in the previous fifteen years. Soon, we’d be asking the kids tough questions, and we’d find out if we were going to be successful with this group or not. But even success would only create a few more ‘subversives’ in the world, and life circumstances might lead them to simply yield to society.

We were dealing with the classic liberty versus safety argument, and sadly, the trend was towards yielding significant amounts of liberty for ephemeral promises of security which were never actually delivered. My primary example was gun control, which had not affected gun violence in Chicago, but instead had disarmed law-abiding citizens; a complete loss of liberty with a decrease in security, which was exactly the opposite from what had been promised.

I’d discovered, when I rescued Willow, the laws which created perverse results - in an attempt to round up anyone who might cause harm to a runaway, innocent help to them was considered a felony. That meant the government didn’t have the ‘inconvenience’ of having to figure out if someone was trying to help or harm, they could just assume harm and lock up the innocent. Laws such as that created disincentives for individuals to help, as did laws which, in effect, made allowing your kids to be kids by walking to school as other kids had for a hundred years, ‘child abuse’.

So much of it boiled down to not only aversion to risk, but also the insistence that nobody be able to take risks of which the majority didn’t approve. I’d heard that often after the Challenger explosion - manned space travel was too risky and we should shut down the program. It didn’t matter that astronauts understood the risks and took them willingly, it was just ‘too dangerous’ to allow to continue. That kind of thinking would ruin scientific and engineering progress as more and more behaviors and activities were considered ‘risky’, not just for kids, but for adults.

But it was actually worse - there was an entire class of people who felt that things they didn’t like or of which they didn’t approve ought to be banned for everyone, with no exceptions. One of those which hit home was the treatment of gays and lesbians, but it also applied to such ‘vices’ as gambling, drinking, recreational drug use, prostitution, and smoking. On that last one, it wasn’t enough for people to want to ban it in public places, they insisted it had to be banned in private places as well. I wondered when they would decide it was ‘child abuse’ to smoke in your own home, because I was sure THAT argument was coming.

In fact, that basic argument was trotted out all the time - ‘think of the children’. Those who demanded that wanted a world where adults were no longer permitted to do, say, think, or even participate in, anything which wasn’t appropriate for ‘children’, by which they appeared to mean kindergarteners. Soon, I feared, those people would want to regulate the internet, and ultimately, destroy it, in the quest for control, or worse, tax revenue.

I realized that I was working myself into a mood, so at the next exit, I pulled off the freeway, stopped at a gas station, bought a bottle of water, and took a short walk and did my best to clear my mind. I reflected on how this ONE topic could really get me going, when nearly anything else I could simply handle and move on. Ultimately, I thought, it had to do with it being something I couldn’t control, and, because I was severely outvoted, couldn’t even effect. Decisions were being made for me, without my consent, and over my objection. Which had been my problem with my mom.

When I got back into my BMW, I turned up the radio which was tuned to a ‘classic rock’ station, and sang along with the songs I knew. That helped keep me from obsessing and also seemed to make the miles go faster. As I neared Peoria, I pulled over to double-check my map, then navigated to the suburban neighborhood where Willow’s foster family lived. I found the address, pulled into the driveway, and parked. I got out of the car, walked to the front door, and rang the bell.

“Hello?” a good looking, middle-aged man said when he opened the door.

“Hi,” I replied. “I’m Steve Adams. You must be Mr. Atkinson. Your wife invited me to visit.”

“I am, and I’m pleased to meet you. Come on in.”

I stepped into the house and we shook hands, and after he closed the door, I followed him to the living room where Willow was waiting with a woman I assumed was Mrs. Atkinson, and a pretty teenage girl, who I assumed was Laurel, Willow’s foster sister. Mr. Atkinson introduced them, confirming my assumptions.

“Hi, Mr. Adams!” Willow gushed, hopping up from the couch.

“Hi, Willow,” I replied.

She gave me a quick, chaste hug, then sat back down on the couch, while I sat in a chair Mrs. Atkinson indicated.

“Thanks for everything you’ve done for Willow,” Mrs. Atkinson said. “We hoped for a different outcome, obviously.”

I nodded, “Me, too.”

I didn’t want to say more, because I was concerned about how Willow was feeling.

I continued, “I’m glad I got a chance to meet you, though, so I could thank you for caring for her.”

“I hope there wasn’t any fallout from the pimp from whom you rescued Willow.”

I smiled, “None worth speaking about.”

“What do you do for a living?” Mrs. Atkinson asked.

“I run a computer software and consulting company. Mostly we cater to lawyers and doctors, but our consulting business is pretty wide-ranging.”

“In Chicago?”

“All over the country. We have regional offices in Pittsburgh and Colorado Springs, and branch offices in Dallas and Durham, North Carolina.”

“Is this something you started yourself?” Mr. Atkinson asked.

I nodded, “Yes, with five friends when five out of the six of us graduated from college. The other one was in High School.”

“High School?!” Laurel exclaimed. “Really?”

“Yes. My next door neighbor, whom I had taught to program at age fourteen, was still in High School when we started. She worked part-time until she was in college, then came on full-time after college.”

“Wow! That would be sooo cool!”

“Think it pays better than babysitting, Laurel?” her dad asked with a grin.

“Lots! And WAY more fun than changing diapers and wiping runny noses!”

“I think ANYTHING is more fun than that, Princess!” he said with a wry smile. “But you’re responsible, you do your job, and you get your pay. That’s the important part in being a good citizen, not the specific job you do.”

“Your dad is right,” I said. “If you understand those things, you’ll do great when you graduate from college. Do you know what you want to be?”

“A nurse.”

“When you’re ready for nursing school, let me know. I may have a few friends who can help.”

“Doctors you know from work?”

“And doctors and nurses I know at UofC. My father-in-law is the Chief of the ER.”

“What does your wife do?” Mrs. Atkinson asked.

“She’s a trauma surgeon at that hospital,” I replied.

“That must be an exciting job!”

I smiled, “You could say that. She did her Fellowship at Cook County Hospital which has the busiest trauma center in the country. THAT was exciting.”

“How many children do you have?”

“That’s a complicated question. My wife and I have two, but I have other kids.”

“A first marriage?”

“As I said, it’s complicated, and I’d prefer to leave it at that, if you don’t mind.”

She gave me a quizzical look, but thankfully didn’t press the issue.

“What do you do for a living, Mr. Atkinson?” I asked.

“I work for Archer Daniels Midland as a production supervisor at their plant here. My wife is a secretary at the same plant.”

“Do you have an idea where you want to go to school, Laurel?”

She shook her head, “I’m only a Freshman, so I haven’t really looked into it just yet. Mom and Dad don’t want me to go too far away.”

Willow looked out of sorts, which didn’t really surprise me, as she was unhappy with what was happening, but I felt the talk of families and the future had to be disconcerting as well. That said, I wasn’t sure there was anything I could do or say to fix things, or even make them better.

“Is this your first time fostering?” I asked.

“No,” Mrs. Atkinson replied. “This is our second. The first one was a few years ago. We cared for a young boy for about a year while his mom was in rehab. She’s clean now, and working, and he’s back with her. We see him every few weeks. We’re hoping we can see Willow, too, though we’ll probably have to travel to North Dakota to do that.”

“I think it would be good if you did,” I replied. “Did Willow tell you I gave her the name of a doctor friend of mine at Mayo Clinic in Rochester?”

“She did. We’ll make sure she has all our numbers as well.”

“Is there anything I can do for you, Willow?”

“Take me someplace where they can’t find me?” she asked, sounding forlorn.

“We discussed that, Willow,” Mrs. Atkinson replied gently, “and anyone who did that would go to jail for a very, very long time.”

I actually had half-a-mind to call Samantha, borrow her jet, and whisk Willow off to Monaco or Saint Martin, but without a passport, which I was sure Willow didn’t have, that was a non-starter.

“Your foster mom is right,” I replied. “The government would consider it kidnapping and we’d have North Dakota, Illinois, and the FBI after us.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I guess there isn’t much anyone can do to change things.”

“Just remember that if you need help, call Doctor Mary, or Mr. or Mrs. Atkinson. They’ll get in touch with me and let me know. I have lots of friends in lots of places, so if you need something, you just call them.”

“But not you?”

I shook my head, “It’s much safer to call a doctor or Mr. or Mrs. Atkinson. Nobody can really question that. They could question why you were calling a stranger you met in Chicago.”

“People are dumb!” she declared.

‘Spoken exactly like one of my children!’ I thought, but didn’t say.

“Yes, some people are,” I replied.

“Mr. Adams,” Mrs. Atkinson said, “I should have asked sooner, but would you like something to drink?”

“Ice water would be fine, thanks. And I’d actually prefer ‘Steve’, if that’s OK.”

“Yes, of course. I’m Teri and my husband is Eddie.”

“I’ll get the water, Mom,” Laurel said. “Anyone else?”

“A Coke for me, please,” Willow requested.

Laurel left and was back about a minute later with a glass of ice water and a can of Coke.

“Thanks,” I said with a smile.

“You’re welcome!” Laurel replied.

I’d driven about three hours for the visit, but I didn’t want to stay too late, so about ninety minutes after I arrived, I thanked everyone and said ‘goodbye’, and Willow and Laurel walked me out to my car.

“Nice car!” Laurel gushed.

“Thanks.”

“Is there any way you can visit me?” Willow asked.

“I think you’ll need to wait to meet your new foster family in North Dakota,” I replied. “Hopefully, they’ll be just as nice as the Atkinsons. If they’re OK with it, call Doctor Mary and she’ll set it up. I just saw her this weekend, and she knows you might call her.”

“OK,” she said, sounding sad.

“Mr. Adams, could you really help with nursing school?” Laurel asked.

I nodded, “I can put you in touch with doctors and nurses who can at least give you advice, if not help. Just call when it’s time and I’ll put you in touch with them.”

“Thanks!”

“You’re welcome.”

When Willow hugged me, it felt as if she was holding on for dear life. Once again I was tempted to take matters into my own hands, but there was just no way I could do that. After a long hug, she kissed my cheek, and then she and Laurel watched as I got into my car. I started the car, rolled down the window, waved goodbye, and then headed back to Chicago.

March 5, 1997, Dallas, Texas

Deborah and I arrived in Dallas late in the afternoon, and after checking into the Westin, we headed to our dinner strategy meeting with Jamie and the other attorneys - Neil Payette, Jake Brown, and Scott Carlson, representing us, Lone Star, and Dallas Capital, respectively. After introductions, we ordered before-dinner drinks and made small talk until they were brought to the table and we ordered our meals.

“Any changes to our proposed strategy?” Neil asked.

“No,” Deborah said. “As we discussed, Dante’s objection to our licensing agreement flies in the face of standard industry practice. Fundamentally, if the judge were to rule against us, Microsoft, Oracle, Novell, and others would be in serious danger, and Jamie and Jake are both absolutely sure we’d get amicus briefs from them on an emergency interlocutory appeal.”

“A what?” I asked.

“Sorry, an appeal of a ruling which occurs before the case is resolved at a given level. Usually you have to wait until the judgment is entered, one way or the other, but in certain cases, especially with temporary injunctions, you have a chance to appeal immediately, rather than wait, because of the potential danger.”

“Is that really a legal argument?” I asked. “They do it so we can?”

“It is,” Neil said. “If the DOJ isn’t objecting to industry-standard licensing practices, then it means the US Government doesn’t believe they violate antitrust laws. The chance a magistrate judge says that the government is wrong is pretty small, and we could immediately appeal to the district court judge as a matter of law. And if he upholds the magistrate, then we’d go for the interlocutory appeal Deborah mentioned.”

“So the ‘he did it first’ defense works,” I chuckled. “Who knew?”

“That actually is pretty much the basis for our entire system,” Jake said. “Common law is effectively based on what people normally do in normal situations, and seeks to result in rulings which achieve the normally expected outcomes. Our entire legal system is based on that. Precedent effectively does the same thing - the courts depend on rulings of other courts with a goal of a coherent body of law.”

“Can we call it semi-coherent?” I grinned.

“How about internally consistent?” Jamie asked.

I nodded, “I’ll go for that. And his other claims?”

“Unfair business practices?” Neil asked. “That’s a factual question, not a matter for an injunction. What he has to argue is that without the injunction he’ll lose because he’ll be out of business. But that’s a VERY tough line of argument. He has to argue, in effect, that the damage to him is so great against the possible damage to us, that he’s entitled to peremptory relief without a factual determination. I do not think he can successfully make that case.

“If he does make that argument, with financials to back it up, we’ll simply argue for expediting the case. We gain nothing at all by delay, and that puts Dante and his team exactly in the trap which Steve has expertly laid. If Dante claims he has, say, six months before he’s out of business, he can’t very well object to going to trial in sixty days, which is more than enough time to complete depositions and for document production. We’re ready to go as soon as he is, and as Steve instructed, we’ve mostly gathered all of the documents requested. We can finish by the middle of the month.”

“So, either way, he doesn’t get his injunction?” I asked.

“I don’t see how,” Jake interjected. “If he accepts an expedited hearing schedule, money damages will cure any tort claim he might win. If he refuses, then we say he’s delaying solely in an attempt to get an injunction. He’s severely trapped here, because if he claims he’ll be out of business in less than six months, he’s basically admitting he doesn’t have a going concern. After all, he should have his income from annual maintenance fees which were due in December, just as yours were. Cindi’s research gave us pretty much everything we need to defeat these claims.”

“What curveballs are possible?” I asked.

“The ‘unknown unknowns’?” Jamie asked with a grin.

I nodded, “You read the same article on the inquiry into the de Havilland Comet airliner crashes?”

Jamie nodded, “In the New Yorker. I always remembered that because it discussed known and unknown phenomena. So you know about risks which might occur, but which you can’t reliably predict, versus risks which are real, but which you don’t even know about.”

“So, what don’t we know?” I asked.

“In a sense, it doesn’t matter right now. The claims, answers, and reply briefs lay out the arguments and counter-arguments. If Dante raises a NEW theory, we can ask for time to reply. So even if his team comes up with something out of the blue, and bases a claim on it, he’ll have to get leave to amend, and then we’ll get a chance to answer. The rules aren’t quite as strict as with criminal law, where the prosecution literally has to disclose everything beforehand. Dante doesn’t, but if he raises something new at this stage, we get sufficient time to respond.”

“So you’re telling me he can’t spring any surprises?” I asked.

“He can, but if they are new claims, we get time to respond. If they aren’t new claims, I’m not sure what surprises he can spring on us pre-discovery. In the end, tomorrow’s hearing on the injunction will come down to a financial argument, and nothing more.”