Chapter 4

© Copyright 2006 by Roy E. Proctor

“This is like going from the best vacation you can remember to the worst Monday morning you can imagine,” Jim thought to himself. The only consolation was that Rose Ann was deeply impressed with her, even in her professional lawyer mode. “Why are you gathering information yourself?” he asked her. “Don’t investigators usually do that?”

“Yes,” Rose Ann responded. “Our investigator did start but found your son to be a ‘true blue’ good kid. The school counselor and all of his teachers were stunned when they learned of his activities. Many were deeply horrified. Nothing turned up, so I decided to personally intervene.

“Tell me, counselor, what will be the approach of your defense?”

“As your son’s counselor, I’ve got to inform you that the prosecution has an ‘iron clad’ case against you son. I suppose you know that, already.”

“Yes, yes, I know that,” Jim responded sharply. I put together the most efficient public prosecution system the city ever knew and ... why did it have to come back on my own house? Makes one’s heart want to stop ...”

“Jim,” Rose Ann interrupted. “I have a word that can give you hope.”

“What is that?”

“I hear the Lord saying for you to hold on to his righteousness,” she asserted. Her words were spoken with an absolute authority that imparted strong support to Jim’s heart. You are being attacked by my challenger, as was Job, my servant of old. I urge you; therefore, to remain open to my discipline in righteousness and for you to remain steadfast in passing it on to those I have placed in your charge. If you will praise me in the midst of trials, as Job learned to do, I will sustain you and restore to you a status a hundred times greater than you’ve ever had before.”

Jim pondered the words in his heart and humbly replied, “All right counselor, what is your approach to this case?”

“I’m going to assume the role of a grieving mother. I’ll try to find some traumatic incident or set of difficult circumstances that your son endured and plead my case to the jury.”

“Now that should grip them right in the heart? I suppose you’re going to try for an all female jury? Mothers, I presume? Oh, and don’t forget grandmothers. I can just see them deliberating now. He’s such a nice boy,” Jim intoned. “I think we should twist that judge’s hand and get him the maximum reduced sentence.”

“Oh yes, Mr. macho DA. There are some things that only women can do,” Rose Ann responded with a teasing smirk on her face.

“Hm, I don’t know about that.”

“Oh, but you just suggested it yourself, in that ‘little old lady’ mocking tone of yours. Face it, ‘macho dude‘ I’ve got you now. It’s time to humble yourself before Rose Ann Sharone, the reigning queen of America’s legal system.”

“You know, oh ‘legal eagle queen,’ I’ve half a mind to take this pen and draw little witches all over your face.”

Rose Ann arose from her chair and backed away. Jim walked toward her until she backed up against a wall. “Now is that any way to treat a counselor?” Rose Ann asked

Jim walked up close to Rose Ann and placed his hands around her waist. Drawing her close to him, he replied, “Will I have to call you counselor for the rest of our lives?”

The two of them stood there, for some time, combined into each other’s space.

“Jim,” Rose Ann said softly into his ear. We’ve spent almost two days together and still have problems concentrating on the cold hard facts of this case. Your son’s future is involved here.”

“Hm ... then we shall get the cold hard facts behind us, quickly.”

Jim and Rose Ann were once again surprised by their personal feelings for each other. As they collected themselves and sat down, Rose Ann asked a question that Jim did not enjoy hearing. “Should I withdraw from this case, Jim?”

“No. Please don’t?” Jim shot back. “You feel for your clients. I want that. I’ll just have to maintain personal discipline and keep things ... well ... professional.”

“Okay, Jim. Some of my questioning may not be easy but here goes. I want you to think back now. Difficult times. Traumatic experiences. Times of teen age rebellion. Generational friction. You know, things like that.”

“Well, you know, his mother died when he was only five years old. Fortunately my sister was there for him as a mother figure for about two years. Then she moved out west to Colorado. Jim Jr. visits her every summer.”

“So, how did all of this affect your relationship with Jim Junior?”

“Oh, well. Fortunately, all of this served to draw he and I close together. We spent many a nights with him falling asleep in my lap and ... I would end up carrying him to bed. I actually used a rocking chair at first. He really got riled up one night. ‘Daddy, I’m not a baby any more.’ It seemed like he grew up a whole year. He was certainly stronger after that.”

“Jim, that’s ... so touching ... Well, let ‘s take this angle. You know, growing up is traumatic in it’s self. I know this may be hard to answer, but how successful was Jim Jr. at dealing with the stress of our day, you know what I mean?”

“Oh, very good. I think it was through our open relationship with each other that started after his mother died. We’ve ‘hung out’ together freely. We’ve thoroughly discussed every facet of every issue that humans face. In fact, Rose Ann, you may not believe this, but many of his friends ‘hung out’ with us as well. Why, together Jim Jr. and I helped this one family to stay together. You want a real surprise, Rose Ann? It was one of his finest hours. He was the most influential one in all of that.”

“I’ve got to ask this logical question. You say that the two of you were close. Could you not tell that something was going on, that Jim Jr. had to be into some thing. I’m sorry, Jim.”

“Come to think of it, he seemed to become progressively quieter, say in this last year. His girlfriend moved away about a year ago. I know for a fact that she was his first love. He got one of those ‘dear John’ letters from her, the one that every boy must endure.”

“But that’s not anything usual, Jim. Every boy goes through that sort of thing.”

“I don’t get it,” Jim burst forth. “He was selling drugs the past year. Why didn’t he come to me? When he was fifteen he took my car without saying a word and totaled it. He accepted discipline? Why not this?”

With that, the consummate DA, the best prosecutor in the history of the city, lost every bit of his composure. “What happened?” he burst out.

Rose Ann quickly rose to her feet and held Jim as he wept bitterly. He soon relaxed enough to hear her soft words. “I will uncover the last year of Jim Junior’s life. Maybe your sister can help us. I’ve always wanted to visit Colorado.”

Jim felt encouraged as he looked up into the face that brought peace to him every time he looked at it. “Oh, yes. Well, since you’ve never been there, you will need a guide, won’t you.”

“Aren’t you rushing the post counselor days a bit?”

“Counselor, have you ever been on a horse?”

“No, but what does that have to do with it?”

“Well, after one first rides a horse, you get off walking with your feet and knees far apart, see, like this.”

“Jim R. Watkins Sr., you keep that up and you may not live to see any post counselor days.”

“Ah, but what a way to go, ay?” Picking Rose Ann up in his arms, he said, “Counselor, you need some good old fashioned R and R.”

“Jim, you are an incurable romanticist.”




HEY! and don't forget to e-mail Roy E. Proctor if you have a comment! He would really like to hear from you.





Return to A Father's Discipline

Cybergrace Banner Exchange 2000