“Jack, I’ll punch you instead of him.”
Steiner laughed. “You do that. I’m hiring him as my attorney.” He pointed at me. “We won’t be able to sue until after they have been arrested and charged and agree to the plea. They might have an attorney who can figure this out as well.”
“Fine by me. We’ll know in a week’s time or so. Even if they do figure it out and try to fight it in criminal court, their lawyer will bankrupt them trying to fight something the district attorney will be begging with them to plead out on. They will have to settle. My immediate worry is getting back to school. Dollars to doughnuts, by the time we get home, they will have called Mom and told her.”
“Jesus H. Christ!” commented Dad.
“Sorry about that, Dad.” I just gave him a sympathetic look. There was a reason I had told the cops to call him rather than Mom. She could be a bit extreme at times. His look back at me was not a happy one.
It was closer to an hour and a half before Detective Ritchie returned, time in which Steiner and I spent plotting strategy. Ritchie’s return was almost anticlimactic. “You are free to go,” he announced, coming in the door.
“The charges?” asked Steiner.
“No charges.”
“And the school? What did the witnesses say?” I asked.
“The witnesses back you up a hundred percent. The school is your problem. I told the principal but I don’t think he cares. You’ve been expelled.”
I looked over at Steiner. “Let me handle this. You’ll be back before the end of the week. Let’s go,” he said confidently.
We all trooped out, though I made sure I shook the detective’s hand. “Thank you very much, Mister Ritchie. I know you went out of your way and I appreciate it quite a lot. You didn’t have to help me, and it means a lot to me. Thank you.”
Most cops don’t get thanked by the guys they interrogated. He gave me a shocked look and mumbled out a ‘thank you’ before sending us away.
I followed my father out of the station to his car and climbed into the passenger seat after he unlocked the door. He was quiet the entire walk, and stayed quiet as he started the car, but then he turned the key off again and twisted to look at me. “What is with you? You backtalk to a police officer? You make deals with a lawyer? You fight on the bus? It’s like I don’t know you anymore.”
I just looked out the windshield. “I’m the same guy, Dad. Maybe this is what happens when you treat me like a grownup and not like a kid.”
“What, you’re thirteen now and don’t think you need to do what you’re told anymore?”
I turned to face him and took a deep breath. “No, Dad, I’m thirteen now and decided I wasn’t going to be pushed around by bullies anymore. If people want to deal with me, they can deal with me like an adult. Life is too short otherwise.”
“An adult? This is how you act like an adult?”
“Yes, father, it is. Tell me, how have I not been acting like an adult? If a gang of three men decided to punch you in the face, would you have just sat there and let them? Or would you have fought back? Come on, Dad, you were in the Navy during the war, what would you have done?” Before he could make a response, I pressed on. “Go ask Mr. Steiner if I was acting like a kid or an adult today? I was respectful and asked intelligent questions and we worked together to make an effective plan to keep me in school and protect you and Mom from lawsuits. Are those the actions of a child or an adult?”
Dad continued to stare at me. “The only time I was anything less than courteous with the detective was when he condescendingly treated me like a child at the start. Once I called him on that, we got along fine. Even better, he came into the room planning on offering me an out as long as I pled guilty to something minor. I managed to get out of there with no charges and no guilty plea. Is that childlike? Or did you really want me to break down and cry and piss my pants? Hell, Dad, the only one in that room who was treating me like a kid was you!” I was immediately sorry I said this since up until now I hadn’t cursed once.
My father just stared at me for a moment and then shook his head in disbelief. My use of the word ‘hell’ was ignored. “Huh. Now what?”
I grinned. “Now we go home. I missed lunch today. Maybe I can grab a cookie or two.”
He glanced at his watch. “Your mother is probably home by now. This is not going to be fun.”
“She’s probably already heard from the school,” I agreed.
We were both right. Mom’s car was in the driveway when we got home. Ham and Suzie weren’t home yet, but I saw my knapsack with my books on the couch. Somebody on the bus must have brought it home, so now Mom knew everything. “Carl? Is that you? I want you up here now!” She was calling me from their bedroom, across the hall from my bedroom. There was no way to avoid her. I followed Dad up the stairs to the bedroom.
Mom looked furious. Normally she’s a very attractive woman — Dad snagged a real looker — but not this afternoon. She started right in on me. “What did you do!? Katie Lowenthal brought your bookbag home and told me you had beat up three boys on the bus and the police had arrested you, and then the school called. You’ve been expelled! What have you done now!?” She was at full volume during all of this, and her face looked pinched and ugly.
I turned my head to my father. “You know, you guys really have to work on this ‘presumption of innocence’ thing.”
I turned my head back towards Mom just in time to see her hand come swinging at my face. She clocked me a good one, staggering me back a step. “Don’t you dare give me any lip!”
I stepped back forward to my original place and rubbed my jaw. “Good one, Mom. We’ll get to that in a bit. Why don’t we all sit down?”
Mom moved to slap me again, but Dad simply said, “Shirley, no.” and she stopped.
My parents have managed to cram in a regular size bed, a desk and office chair, and a recliner into their bedroom. I plopped down into the recliner and Dad sat at his desk. Mom had no choice but to sit on the bed. “Okay, here goes,” I said.
I gave her the full story, including what happened at the jail. I did leave out my meeting the armed robber. That would have been just one story too much for her. By the end of the tale she was somewhat mollified, but still angry with me. “You shouldn’t have fought those boys. You know better than to fight.”
She was starting to piss me off, but I tried to keep it out of my voice. “What, Mom? What should I have done? Tell someone? Who? The bus driver? The bus driver lied to the cops just to keep his job. You think he was going to do anything? Who am I going to tell at the school? The principal? You think he’s going to assign somebody to walk me to class every day and protect me?”
From the look on her face, this is precisely what I should have done. Still I pushed her. “Maybe I should have told you and Dad? Oh, that’s right, I did that already, last year. You told me to be a man and stand up for myself. Guess what, I did just that and now you’re unhappy with me. Make up your mind, Mom.”
“How dare you speak to me like that!?” She looked over at my father, expecting him to start beating the crap out of me, which is what he would have done any day prior to this. Instead he just sat there and looked at her. “Are you going to let your son backtalk to me like that?”
“Shirley, stop it.”
“Mom, define backtalk. Is it saying anything under the sun that you and Dad don’t agree with? You might as well just shoot me now, because there are lots of things in the world we don’t agree on,” I replied, which was probably not a good thing to do.
Dad turned his head to me. “Don’t push your luck.”