Equal Access (16 page)

Shad didn’t feel right gazing so far down at
the child. “I meant it.” He lowered himself to the floor and sat
with his legs crisscross. “The reason I’m working for your mom is
because I wanna be sure you’re gonna be taken care of.”

“Then you have to stop the divorce.”

Shad wished he was more adept at reading
expressions. “Why?”

Charissa looked at the book again. “If you
really want to do what’s best for me, you’ll stop the divorce.”

Shad stared at her as Charissa continued to
gaze downward. It was natural for children to resist divorce. They
didn’t want to see their family, which was their world, torn apart.
They didn’t want to feel abandoned by a parent. They didn’t want to
feel guilty because they suspected they were the cause of the
breakup. Charissa was completely powerless to stop her mom from
dying, so why wouldn’t she grasp at one thing where she might be
able to exert some control? Why wouldn’t she try to get rid of the
attorney who had initiated those proceedings?

Shad’s gut stirred.

There was something he was missing. Shad’s
experience had made him sensitive to abuse upon others, but
apparently his formal training was unable to identify and name what
was prickling at his conscience right now.

“I’ve told you why I believe the divorce is
in your best interests.” Shad studied Charissa’s face in the hope
he might be able to ascertain something in her expression. “Now you
need to tell me why you believe it isn’t.”

Charissa stared at the book on her lap.
“People aren’t supposed to get divorced.”

“I agree.” Shad noticed that her statement
seemed to settle into his subconscious as though it were another
ingredient added to the simmering pot of his limited intuition.

“Then why are you a divorce lawyer?”

Shad’s smirk was entirely involuntary. “I’m
not a
divorce
lawyer. Most of what I do has nothing to do
with divorce. And when I do take on a case like that, it’s only
when I need to make sure that the kids don’t pay the full
price.”

Charissa frowned. “Whaduya mean, full
price?”

“Sometimes ... one parent is so mad at the
other one, they ... forget that as a parent they’re supposed to put
their kids’ needs ahead of their own wants. My goal is to make it
less hard on the kids.”

“But if you believe people shouldn’t get
divorced, why don’t you just, you know, stop it?”

“I don’t have that power.” Shad wanted to
spend less time explaining himself and more listening to Charissa,
but he had to use his words to finish building this bridge between
them. “Even God allows for divorce when someone breaks the covenant
of marriage, and He Himself established that covenant.”

Charissa frowned as she looked at him. “God
doesn’t like divorce.”

“I agree.” Again her statement lingered in
his subconscious. “But God gave us free will, and due to the
hardness of our hearts he gave us a way to escape a broken
covenant.”

Charissa’s frown melted slightly into a more
quizzical expression. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t blame you.” Shad drew a deep breath
as he tried to distill what his family had taught him. “You see, if
we all followed God’s law, there would be no need for things like
jail or even divorce. But God gave us the freedom to make choices,
and some people choose to do what feels good at the moment instead
of what God would want them to do. Some people choose to break
their marriage vows and refuse to stop breaking the vows, which
makes it actually better for their spouses to be away from them
than to stay married to them. You see, the covenant is already
broken. The divorce just makes it final, or at least that’s the way
it’s supposed to be.”

Charissa’s gaze seemed to be directed at the
door behind him. Several seconds passed before she responded.

“Who broke it?”

“What?”

Her gaze redirected to Shad. “Was it Mom or
Dad who broke the coven-tent?”

Shad stared at her. He didn’t want to answer
the question. Although he unequivocally placed the responsibility
upon Demetri, Shad also didn’t want to alienate Charissa from her
father. As cruel as the man could be, Demetri also exhibited warmth
that Charissa could benefit from. If she had supervised visits with
her father, Charissa would at least experience the best Demetri had
to offer. Children needed fathers.

“It doesn’t matter,” Shad finally replied.
“All that matters is that we’re gonna take care of you.”

Charissa’s gaze drifted back to the book but
she didn’t really look at it. When she spoke, even Shad could
recognize the sorrow in her voice.

“I know why you don’t wanna tell me. It’s why
Mom’s dying, isn’t it?”

That feeling in his gut started to scramble
like a frantic animal trying to escape. “What?”

“Mom broke the coven-tent. So God’s making
her die.”

A different sensation of horror began seeping
through him. “No. That’s not why she’s dying.” Shad also sensed
that the unknown identity of the abuse that eluded him was drawing
a little nearer, but it was still like a chink in the wall the
animal couldn’t quite reach. “Is that what your dad told you?”

“Dad said ... he said she’s a slutty bitch
that only thinks about herself. He said she wants me back just to
be mean to us. He said she wants to get a divorce because that way
you’ll make more money. And she’s mad at God for making her
die.”

Shad stared speechless at the girl for many
seconds as a chill crept through him. Language, one of those
characteristics of humanity that separated us from the animals and
was part of our likeness to God, escaped him as Shad considered the
power of words.

God spoke, and the world became. Many Native
American tribes concealed their children’s true names so that
witches couldn’t use that knowledge to conjure curses against them.
Celtic peoples believed that talented “poet-seers” could wreak
havoc against kings by chanting satires about them. Among the Jews
gossip was considered to be the verbal equivalent of murder. And
Demetri Simms, using words filled with malice, made his daughter
believe that her mother was a rebellious infidel who deserved to be
struck down by a vengeful god.

Many people didn’t believe that verbal abuse
was true
abuse
. Everyone knew the rhyme about sticks and
stones. But verbal abuse wasn’t the kind of banter that Karl and
Jill sometimes traded. Insidious on its own, it was also the
foundation for other expressions of abuse. Shad would have dared
anybody to sit in the same room with him right now and deny that
words had the power to maim and even kill.

“That’s not true.” Those were the only words
he could finally think of.

“It has to be.” Charissa gazed at her book.
“And if I don’t make you stop the divorce, something bad will
happen to me, too.”

So that was it. Demetri had threatened her.
He had placed adult responsibility on the small girl’s shoulders
and then warned of dire consequences if she didn’t succeed. In that
one statement Shad found himself beginning to understand Charissa’s
behavior and other things she’d said.

He found words came more readily now. “Your
dad can’t hurt you. I’ll see to it you’re never left alone with him
again.”

“Not Dad.” Charissa shook her head. “God will
do it. He’ll make something bad happen to me. Like how He’s making
Mom die.” Her expression was somber again as she looked at Shad.
“You can’t keep God away from me.”

Shad’s breath seemed to become thin as though
somebody had knocked the wind out of him. He remembered something
else about Demetri Simms. Monica admitted that in high school and
shortly afterwards she had been a “wild child” who partied with
friends because it was usually how she could get her father’s
attention. When her own mother suddenly died of a bacterial
infection, Monica decided to turn her life around, which included a
new routine of attending church. That was where she met Demetri,
and Monica believed she’d found her dream man. He was handsome,
athletic, intelligent, fun-loving ... and devout. How could she go
wrong with someone who was so obviously pious and still willing to
overlook her former transgressions?

“I don’t want to keep God away from you,” he
replied. “God is your protection, not your adversary. He isn’t
gonna punish you, and He isn’t punishing your mom.”

Charissa frowned again, but sadness still
lingered on her. “Dad said He is. But you can’t say why she’s
dying.”

“God does things we don’t understand. But my
parents taught me that when bad things happen, that gives people
the chance to do something good. And every time people do something
good, they’re fulfilling God’s will. And every time God’s will is
fulfilled, that’s a miracle. So every time something bad happens,
it gives us the chance to perform miracles.”

“Only the doctors can give Mom a
miracle.”

“That’s not true.” Shad shook his head. “Your
mom loves you with all her heart and soul, and so for her it’s a
miracle that your Uncle Eliot and Aunt Tess are going to bring you
into their home when she does finally pass away. It’s a miracle to
her that somebody will take care of you when she can no longer do
it herself.”

Charissa shook her head in return. “That’s
not a miracle.”

“Yes, it is.” Shad leaded forward. “I’m gonna
tell you a story I’ve read about. Do you remember the part in the
Bible where Moses leads the Hebrews out of Egypt, and God parts the
waters of the Red Sea so they can escape from Pharoah’s army?”

Charissa nodded slightly.

“As the people of Israel are walking between
the two walls of water on either side of them, they gaze at those
walls in amazement – except for two men. Those two men keep looking
down at the mud they’re walking through, and complaining to each
other how it reminds them of the mud they used to make into bricks
while they were slaves in Egypt. There they are in the middle of
perhaps the most famous miracle ever known, and they don’t see it.
Miracles are no different today. We’ve just got to see them.” Shad
leveled his gaze on her. “People who love you want to take care of
you. That in itself is always a miracle.”

Charissa shook her head. “That’s the way
things are supposed to be.”

Shad stared at her. “You’re exactly right.
But the way things are supposed to be is not always the way things
are. We broke the world and now it’s up to us to repair it. We have
to put things back the way they’re supposed to be.”

“But only babies are supposed to be
adopted.”

“That’s not true. I was eleven years old
before I was adopted.”

It was Charissa’s turn to stare at Shad, and
when she spoke her tone was almost hushed. “You’re adopted?”

“When I was even older than you. And still I
didn’t wind up with three heads and seven eyeballs.”

Charissa almost smiled. But then her lips
pursed downward and she lowered her attention to the book in her
lap.

“I don’t know when I can believe you.”

Her words hit Shad like a right cross from
out of the blue. “I’m sorry about the firing thing. I wasn’t trying
to lie. I was just trying to help you feel better.”

“Dad’s lied to me, too.”

His analytical side couldn’t leave that
statement untouched. “How?”

“He promised me we would go to a special park
where I could go on a pony ride. A real live pony. He said we would
go after lunch. Lunch was over, and he wasn’t ready to go. He kept
working on his sound system. I asked him when we would go and he
kept saying later. Then he got mad and said if I didn’t stop
asking, we wouldn’t go at all. I stopped asking.” Charissa’s
fingers lightly tapped the pages of the book. “We still never
went.”

Shad was thoroughly familiar with that type
of episode. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I know it was very
disappointing.”

“At bedtime I asked him if we could go the
next day. He got mad again. He said ... he said I was acting like
Mom. Always wanting stuff. That if I didn’t stop acting like her I
was gonna wind up dead, just like her....” Charissa’s voice trailed
off.

A few memories tried to clamor to the surface
of his thoughts, but Shad pushed them back into the depths. “That’s
not gonna happen. You’re a very special person. And your Mom is
very nice.” The analytical ego still hadn’t retreated. “Your Dad
usually says things like that whenever he gets mad, doesn’t
he?”

“I don’t like it when he’s mad.” Charissa’s
voice was beginning to squeak. “I try to be good. I really do. But
I just can’t be good enough –” Her voice cracked.

Shad felt himself leaning toward her. “It’s
not your fault.”

“If I could be good enough – he won’t get mad
anymore.”

“You’re good enough, Charissa. You’re very
good. He’s the one who’s broken, not you. Nobody can ever be good
enough to keep him from getting mad.”

“And if you don’t stop the divorce –”
Charissa’s voice cracked again. “– I wasn’t good –”

A sound like a strangled hiccup erupted from
her, and Charissa’s hands flew to her face as soft sobs shook her
shoulders. Before Shad even realized what he’d done he scrambled
across the room, pushed a pile of dolls and stuffed animals out of
the way, and sat beside Charissa as he placed his left hand on her
back between her shoulder blades.

“It’s alright,” Shad muttered as he gently
patted her with outspread fingers. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Charissa shook her head slightly as she
continued to weep into her hands.

“You’re a good kid and nothing bad’s gonna
happen to you. You’re going through tough times right now, I know,
and that’s bad enough. But nothing
really
bad is gonna
happen to you.”

She began to sniffle and wipe at her nose.
Shad removed his hand from her back and pulled a folded, plain
white handkerchief from his left slacks pocket. He silently thanked
Pap for having ingrained the habit in him to always carry a
handkerchief and a pocket knife.