Within a few days, I was sitting up most of the day. The respiratory therapist proclaimed that I was breathing properly. She left me a thing to blow in a few times a day but no longer had to make daily room visits. A rehabilitation therapist came and started giving me exercises to strengthen my arms and legs. By the time a week was up, I was allowed to take short, slow walks around the nurse's station. On January 23rd, I moved to a regular room.

Grady had been in and out during that time, but he had very little to report. When I got impatient, he reminded me that the law often moves very slowly. On the 25th, though, he came to my room looking quite serious.

"The DA wants to meet with you," he said.

"Why? I thought he would just tell you what the charge will be."

"He hasn't decided. This trial is going to be a pretty big deal. He wants to meet with his potential witness before settling on charges. Just stick to the truth like you have in the past," Grady said. "You won't have anything to worry about."

"Okay," I said. "When?"

"He'll be here in an hour."

"Oh. What about Mom? She's working today."

"I know. She said she trusts us. She can't come, but she doesn't want to put the DA off. Besides, I think it will be better if she's not here. You can't look at her as though for guidance. The DA watches for those kinds of signs. Don't look at me before you answer, either. If you do, he'll think you've been coached."

"No prob," I said. "I got this."

Grady sort of sighed. "Probably, but don't get over confident. That's when you trip up."

The DA came in with Grady. He came right to where I was sitting and stuck out his hand. "Brock Thibideaux," he said. "And you're CW." There was really no answer. It wasn't like he asked a question. Any introduction on my part would have been redundant.

He was a short man, really short, I mean like your legs don't touch the floor when you're sitting back in a chair, short. He was bald, the shaved head kind of bald. He looked like a little-people version of Mr. Clean. I thought of Mr. Clean because of the muscles and the no hair thing. I guess to make up for height and hair, the guy looked like he spent hours every day in the gym. His arms were muscle. His chest seemed really wide for a short dude. He obviously had a six-pack. He also had an attitude. He was restless. He paced. When he asked questions, he sort of spit them at you like a verbal nail gun.

"I'm not going to record this," he said. "I just want to clarify some things. Is that okay with you?" He addressed the question to Grady.

"I'm going to have my phone on," Grady said. "CW's Mom can't be here, but she's going to try to listen in through her blue tooth. And I'll be taking extensive notes, of course. So, yeah, I'm okay with no recording."

"Okay, here's the thing CW. You're asking me to pretty much let you off with a slap on the wrist if I agree to the plea your lawyer has proposed." His eyes bored into mine. "Before I decide what to do, I need to ask you some questions. I've watched all three of your taped interviews. That's where my questions come from. Are you willing to answer me truthfully."

"Yes, sir," I said.

He smiled. "Not bad. You come across as polite and sincere. Good coaching, Grady."

"It's not coaching," I said. "My Mom taught me to be polite and respect authority. I may have ignored that for a while, but training comes out when push comes to shove."

"Touché."

"Okay, young man. I'm going to be treating you like your friends' lawyer would, so I'll probably be asking some hard questions."

"I'll deal," I said.

He just nodded. "Was your claim of amnesia fake?

"Misspoke, probably. I just equated my fuzzy memory with amnesia."

"So you remembered the accident all along?"

"I probably remembered some things, but it was hard to be sure what I remembered and what I had been told. I knew I was in a wreck on a motorcycle. I remembered talking to Jake and Marlow about hotwiring Pop's bike and taking it for a joyride. But at first, I didn't put everything together."

"When did you realize BJ was involved?"

"Not long after I woke up, I heard the nurses talking about a boy down the hall who was in a coma. His name was BJ. I sort of put two and two together, but I didn't really remember actually hitting BJ until the day Jasmine took me to see him."

"Why did Jasmine take you to see him?"

"I asked her to. I had been trying to remember things by going over stuff in my mind about Jake and Marlow and that day. I thought seeing BJ would help."

"Did it?"

"Yes."

He seemingly switched subjects. "Why did you let Jake spike your coke?"

"I was really pissed at Mom and Uncle Clarence. She had betrayed me by putting a camera in my crib while we were in Mexico. I caught her watching a video of Uncle Clarence in F2, that's what I call my crib. I knew Mom hated alcohol. Drinking some seemed like a good way to be a rebel."

"So why did you let Jake drive?"

"I'd seen him way more plastered than that. I figured he would be okay. I mean I got on the bike, didn't I?"

"Did he show you his bike license?"

"No. He told me he had one. He was my homie. I had no reason to doubt him."

"We've added driving without a license to his charges. His regular license was expired, and he has never had a motorcycle license." He paused and looked me in the eye. "So you trusted him? Completely?"

"Pretty much. Mom had tried to put doubt in my mind. She said the B&Es in our neighborhood corresponded with our friendship, but I blew her off. I figured she didn't like them and would say anything that she thought would make me quit hanging with them."

"What did you think when you saw the loose wires under the bike seat?"

"Nothing. I mean, I was hyped. We were going to stick it to Momz, on camera. I wasn't thinking about details like loose wires."

"You just called your mother Momz. Is that how you address her?"

"I've been calling her that for the last three months. Well, until a week or so ago."

"Why?"

"It's slang. Jake and Marlow thought Mom sounded too tame. I knew she didn't like it, too. It was sort of a verbal in-your-face."

"And why drop the Momz?"

"We aren't in opposite corners anymore. She was here even after I did those horrible things. I realized that she loves me. I don't want to keep her on edge anymore."

"So, back to the wires. When did the significance of the loose wires occur to you?"

"The day I went to see BJ. I had been going over things in my head. I wondered if Jake had loosened them in preparation for taking the bike while I was on vacation, but then he couldn't because of the cameras."

"So it was before Officer Reddy said something on camera?"

"Officer who? Oh you mean Jasmine." I grinned. "Yeah, I was sort of surprised when she asked about the wires. I didn't expect anyone to put two and two together that quick. I mean, I didn't. I only thought about them while I was lying in bed with nothing else to do but think."

"So if you trusted Jake, why suspect that he was going to steal the bike?"

"I said I trusted him when I got on the bike. That changed."

"Why did it change?"

"I started going over things in my mind. A lot of little things added together caused me to doubt my trust."

"Where did Jake get the electrical tape?"

"That was one of the little things. There was electrical tape in the shed. All of Dad's tools and stuff are in there. But it shouldn't have been laying on the table out in the open. I keep it in some stackable drawers on a shelf."

"So it was just laying out ready to use."

"Yeah. When I thought back, I realized that."

"When did you remember the mini-cam?"

"Not until Jas..., um, Officer Reddy asked me if I had anything besides a cell phone."

"Have you ever confronted Jake about stolen merchandize?"

"Confronted? You mean, like ask him if he steals stuff?"

"Maybe. Anything like that happen?"

"No. I never asked him if he was a thief. When he gave me the I-pad, I did ask if it was hot. I was sort of joking, but they were living out of their car. I just thought the gift was kinda out there."

"So what did he say?"

"He acted all put out. He said it was Christmas and that he'd never take someone's Christmas stash. And then Marlow said his Mom's boyfriend bashed in his face because he was hitting her up for money after she gave him an I-pad."

"What about the boxes of stolen goods in the trunk? Did you know they were there?"

"No. I mean, I knew there were boxes in the trunk and that one had a computer monitor in it. I put a bag of trash in the trunk. I saw the boxes and the monitor, but I didn't look in them or anything. They told me that was the stuff they brought with them when they moved into the car after Jake's Mom tried to make them go to work instead of school. How was I supposed to know it was a cache of stolen goods?"

"If I put you on the stand, you know that their lawyer is going to try to make you look like a juvenile delinquent who will do or say anything to save his butt, don't you ?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Okay. Here's the deal your lawyer wants. He wants you charged with misdemeanor joyriding. That means that you took a motorcycle that didn't belong to you, but that you planned to return it."

"That's what happened. We were going to return the bike shortly after the New Year chimed. That was the plan."

"That may have been your plan, but it wasn't their plan. Jake said you wanted to go on a crime binge. He said you were running away from home."

"No way. We met at McDonalds, and I told them that I wanted to take the bike on a spin. I told them how they could sneak in so Mom wouldn't have a clue until we roared out of the driveway and shot her the bird on camera."

"Well, no one was in on the conversation at McDonalds but you and them. It's going to come down to who's more believable." He paused and raised his eyes towards the ceiling. "Heaven help us; I'm betting on you. That's why I'm going to offer you the deal. You plead to misdemeanor joy riding. I will recommend one year's probation, six weeks of community service, and anger management classes. All you have to agree to do is testify on behalf of the state against Jake and Marlow."

"When would this start? The year's probation, that is?"

"I'm going to go from here and file charges. You'll be arraigned on the 30th at 9am, if your doctor says you're strong enough to come to court. You can come in a wheelchair, if you like. You will enter a plea of guilty. The judge will be pre-advised that we have reached a plea deal, and he'll know the details. I will tell the court my recommendation after you plead guilty, for the record. The judge will accept your guilty plea. He can sentence you immediately per my recommendation, or he can take it under advisement and continue the sentencing phase on another day. If he accepts the recommendation and sentences you that day, the clock on your probation will start immediately. If he delays the sentencing, it won't start until after the sentencing hearing."

Grady cleared his throat. "You have to understand, CW. The charge is a done deal, but the plea that includes probation, community service and anger management is a recommendation. The judge does not have to agree with the recommendation. He can hold a sentencing hearing before deciding your sentence. This is juvenile court. If he's not ready to pass judgment, he can talk to your teachers, your friends, your family, pretty much anyone he thinks has relevant information. He can give you a harsher sentence. The charge carries up to one year in jail, and he can add a fine to that. He can also give you a more lenient sentence. Until the judge puts his stamp on the terms, they can be changed. Not by me," he waved at the DA, "and not by him, but by the judge."

I looked from Grady to the DA. I didn't really have a choice. I had to put my fate in their hands and in the hands of some nameless, faceless judge that didn't know me from Adam. It was a scary thought.

"Let's do it," I said.

The next few days dragged by. I was off the drug pump. I was only taking Tylenol with a little codeine. I was glad to have rehab to help keep my mind off of the upcoming court appearance. I had graduated to twice a day for an hour each time. The hour in the morning was all exercise. He made me practice doing simple stuff like getting up from a chair. He wanted me to do it in one smooth motion without bending forward. He said that would keep me from compressing my lungs too much. He gave me leg exercises to do. Some I did lying on the bed and some I did sitting in a chair. After a few days, he added two-pound weights to my ankles. He also made me practice breathing with my abdomen. He put weights on my stomach and made me raise and lower them by breathing. He also made me practice writing with my left hand.

The hour I spent with him in the afternoons was partly walking. He let me walk, slowly, to a rehab room down the hall. He told me to hold on to the IV pole so that I didn't lose my balance. There was a whirlpool there that he made me sit in for about 15 minutes. He made me try to walk a straight line, kind of like the cops do when they're testing your sobriety. He said that lying in bed tends to throw off your balance, but they were also taking things slow because of the clot that made it to my lungs. We took different routes back to my room each afternoon. They were getting longer each day. When I tried to tell him that I could do more, he just told me that he had instructions not to rush things.

While I was waiting to hear from the DA, I decided to check out the DVD Dad had given me for Christmas. My laptop had a DVD player in it. Mom had brought the Bible Dad sent me to the hospital in hopes that I would read it. I don't think she even thought about the DVD.

When I booted up the first story, it was about King David. When Dad's face came on, I hit pause and just looked at him. He was familiar but different. Anyway, the DVD started with David and Goliath, but it went way beyond there. It was a lot of scriptures. At the end of the Goliath passage was a note directing me to the next pages Dad was going to read. He even flipped pages in his Bible, giving me a pause in the DVD so I had time to find it. The story hit a bunch of the highlights of David's life. He ended with the story about David committing adultery with Bathsheba, trying to cover it up, and finally repenting. After the reading, he made a short statement. "We all make mistakes, CW. David made plenty and he suffered the consequences, just like I am suffering the consequences for mine. But God still loved him, and he used him. The Bible says that when all was said and done, David was still a man after God's own heart. I'm trying to become like that, CW. I have a long way to go, but my heart belongs to God so I know I'll get there."

Between the rehab and the Bible, the days didn't drag as badly.