The day of the arraignment, my rehab paid off. I did go to court in a wheelchair; Dr. Patel insisted. Because of my condition and the fact that we were coming from the hospital, I was first on the docket. Because of all the practice, I was able to stand smoothly and walk to the table where Grady said I had to sit with him.

The judge read the charge. "How do you plead, young man?" he asked, looking at me over a pair of reading glasses.

"Guilty, your honor."

"You understand that by pleading guilty, you are waving your right to a trial. You are admitting that you took the motorcycle without permission, but that you intended to return it."

"Yes, sir," I said. "And I would have if we hadn't wrecked it."

"So you say; that's an easy statement at this juncture" he said. "And you understand that I can sentence you to up to a year in juvenile detention."

I looked at Grady. "Yes, sir, I know you can, but..." Grady touched my arm. I stopped talking. I gulped. "Yes, sir."

"That 'but' meant you are aware of the plea agreement," the judge said. He turned to the DA. "Go ahead, tell the court your recommendation."

The DA stood and walked around to the front of his table. "We recommend one year's probation, six weeks of community service and anger management classes. This is his first offense, Your Honor. He made some poor choices while under the influence of some older adolescents he met at school. They are adults in the eyes of the law, even though they were still attending school. The state feels that these conditions are adequate, considering the circumstances."

"Thank you. I'll give your recommendation serious consideration." He looked down at his desk and ran his finger along a page. He turned to a guy who'd come in with him, I guess his legal assistant or something, and asked a question. "We'll hold the sentencing hearing on April 10th," he concluded.

"But that's over two months away," I said.

The judge looked over his glasses again. "You have some healing to do before you can do any kind of community service. I need time to poke into your life and find out if you deserve the terms the DA is offering. Two months isn't very long, legally speaking, or in life for that matter, at least when you're my age. I'm overworked and under paid. I haven't remanded you to a facility while you await my decision. I am leaving you in the custody of your mother. Just be thankful for what you got."

"Yes, sir." I slumped back in my chair.

Mom pushed the wheelchair up to the table. "It'll be okay, CW," she said.

I got up and sat in the chair. "I suppose it will have to be." I was thinking about the One Day with God thing Dad had talked about. It was in March. I guess that was out. Mom wouldn't even have to say no this time.

In the car, Mom asked, "Why don't we stop at Sonic on the way back and get you something to eat that isn't hospital fare?"

I had been off of mush for several days and was handling regular fare properly. According to the nurse that meant that I could "have a BM." The first time I crapped, I felt like a two-year old whose Mom claps for him when he uses the toilet. The nurse smiled and said, "You did good." Ugh. Who wants to be given kudos for poop?

"Whatever," I said.

Grady pulled in to Sonic. He turned to me. "Don't let this get you down," he said. "This judge is known for his thoroughness, but he's also known to be fair. If Jake and Marlow are the only skeletons in your closet, he should come down on your side. He could have appointed a guardian ad litem for you. That's someone who talks to you and can make recommendations to the judge. He or she is a guardian of your rights, protecting them and making sure no one infringes on them, including your parents. To me, the fact that he didn't appoint one means that he is satisfied that your Mom and I are doing an adequate job of protecting your rights."

I sat up straighter in my seat. I had been slumped over. "That's good." I sighed. "I was just disappointed. I hoped to get this over with today so I could get on with my life."

"I know," Mom said. "We all did, but keep your chin up. At least you weren't placed somewhere. We get to go through this together."

"Get to?"

"You know what I mean. I can be there for you every day."

"I know. And I appreciate it Mom. You've gone way above and beyond, after the way I treated you. I'll always remember waking up, seeing your face and knowing you were there even though I didn't deserve for you to be there."

"Sort of like Jesus," Grady said.

"You're into Jesus?" I asked.

He smiled. "Yeah. He's the reason I stay on as a public defender. This is my way of helping out the widows and orphans, like the Bible says."

"And single Moms and their brat." 

"That too. The Bible tells us to take care of the widows and orphans because back then they had no means of support and few rights. I don't take the passage literally. I think it means to take care of those whose rights are trampled on and who can't take care of themselves. Most of my clients fall into that category in one way or another."

"Yeah. I don't know what we'd have done without you. I guess I need to be thanking you too."

After that and some food, I felt better. Mom and Grady weren't worried. Didn't the Bible tell us not to worry cause it wouldn't make us any taller. I always thought that verse was funny, but it made sense. What good had worry ever done anyone?

When we got back to the room, I was beat. The outing had depleted my energy. The nurse asked if I wanted my lunch tray. I told her all I wanted was my pill and some sleep.

"We stopped and got him some street food," Mom added.

I took the pill and closed my eyes. I was drifting in that place between wakefulness and sleep when Mom's phone rang. I was vaguely aware of what was going on, but wasn't sure whether or not I was dreaming.

"Hello," Mom said. "Who? A volunteer with what organization?"

There was a pause. "Oh, you volunteer at the prison where Paul is incarcerated."

It was weird listening to one side of a conversation while your mind floated somewhere between sleep and consciousness. Mom must have been listening more than talking because there were long periods of silence interspersed with short sentences from her.

"You let kids spend a whole day in prison with their Dads?"

"Well, CW is in the hospital, but he'll be out before then, I suppose."

"Does it matter that he's been charged with the crime of joyriding and is awaiting sentencing?

"I see."

"Yes, I have your number on my phone. You say your name is June?"

"I'll pray about it."

"Thanks. We can use all the prayer we can get."

Mom's voice either stopped, or I went all the way under. When I woke up, I was alone. There was a note on my tray.

"I was called in to work. They are short handed. I know you'll be okay, but I'll be checking in. Rehab is canceled for this afternoon. I told them you needed your rest after your field trip this morning. Love you. Mom."

I looked at the note. I wondered how long Mom had been gone. Had I dreamed the phone call or was it real? I picked up the Chainlink that Mom had put back on my tray. I looked up the article on Angel Tree. The name of the woman in charge was June. Could she be a volunteer with both programs, that one and ODWG? Did my mind remember that and put the name into a dreamed conversation or had Mom really talked to someone about ODWG?

After puzzling over it for a while, I decided to leave things in Mom's hands. I had told God he was going to have to get to her if I was to go. I had promised Dad I wouldn't bring it up, and I wouldn't. But maybe, just maybe, the joyriding thing wouldn't keep me from going. Why else would Mom keep June's number?

When Mom checked in during her break, she didn't mention the phone call. It was all I could do to keep from asking, but I held firm. When she came in that night, I was completely zonked. I didn't even know she was there until I woke up at 7 in the morning when the nurse came in to take my vitals. I never could understand why they woke us up to take out vitals. Wouldn't we benefit more from uninterrupted sleep?

When I had asked Nurse Sande, she just winked at me. "We don't want you to get in the habit of sleeping late. You're going to have to go back to school, you know."

Now that I was feeling better, the school was sending a homebound tutor to the hospital to help me keep up with my classes. She would be coming to my home once I was discharged, at least until the doctor released me to return to school.

I had my laptop. I could do my written homework that way. I was still pretty slow at writing with one hand. The computer, though, was much faster.  With just one working hand, I used what Mom called the hunt and peck method. I told her it wasn't really. I was used to typing with my thumbs and knew where the letters were. Having to spell everything out and add capitals and punctuation was what slowed me down. I got my assignments on the computer, too. I sent everything back by email. The tutor was there to cover what I missed by not attending classes.

With my sentencing hearing delayed and my needing to testify in court in the cases of Jake and Marlow, Mom had asked them to let me complete the semester as a homebound student. She was awaiting a decision.

When Mom was sleeping, the nurse always tried to be quiet and not wake her, but it never worked, and this morning was no exception. Mom stretched and set up. "Everything looking good?" she asked.

"Yeah," Kat said. "I think he's just about ready to be discharged."

"Dr Patel said probably by next week," Mom said.

"That long?" Kat asked. "I'm surprised."

"Me, too. But I need him as strong as possible. He's going to be at home alone a lot of the time when I'm working."

"Have you talked to a Social Worker about home health?"

"Yeah. They'll send a rehab therapist to the house until they think he's strong enough to return to school. But that'll only be a couple times a week."

"If you got married and you closed in one end of the front porch to make Seth an office like you talked about, I wouldn't have to be exactly alone," I said.

Mom rolled her eyes. "What's with you and pushing the marriage thing? You used to be opposed, then tolerant, and now you're like, do it Mom."

Kat laughed. "Hey, don't knock it. He could be all, 'don't give me an evil step-dad.'" When she said the last, she lowered her voice, put her hand on her hip and tried to give it some tude.

I grinned. "I take it you have a teenager."

"She's eight going on 15," she said. "I'm the step-mom. She and I do okay, though. She doesn't think I'm evil except when I make her do her homework. At least so far; I'm not looking forward to the teen years, though, all those hormones and mood swings."

After Kat left, Mom sat down by the bed. "I'm not going to be here Friday, if that's okay. Seth is going to be giving a talk to some hospice trainees. He wanted me to come along. He thought maybe I would be a valuable resource, too."

"I'll make you a deal. Talk to Seth about resuming your wedding plans, and I'll be down with you going." I grinned. "You know I'm okay, Mom. Why don't you go home Thursday night and get some real rest? Maybe go out on a date with Seth. Make it a weekend. I'll deal."

"Not a whole weekend," Mom said.

"Send Uncle Clarence in to baby sit," I said.

She laughed. "We'll see, but for now, just know that I won't be here on Friday."

Mom decided to take my advice and go home on Thursday night. She said she needed to do laundry. I just rolled my eyes. I thought about suggesting she take the DVD Dad had made and watch it. I had planned to suggest it when she woke up, but it completely left my mind when she started the conversation about her date and all. I figured that giving her the DVD to watch might get her to see how much Dad had changed, just it case it was the ODWG lady who had called. That wasn't the same as badgering her about letting me go because she didn't even know I knew about ODWG. Still, I decided not to do it. She deserved a carefree weekend and watching Dad talk about sin and consequences, even with the love bit thrown in, probably wasn't going to give her that kind of weekend.

Uncle Clarence came by Friday after morning rehab, and we played some cards and had lunch. He brought shrimp po-boys. I told Nurse Sande she could have my lunch.

On Friday evening Uncle Clarence came back. "I told your Mom I'd look in on you again," he said. "She and Seth have decided to go out on a date tonight. I told her I'd bring you the message."

I was puzzled. I picked up my phone. It wasn't dead. "Why didn't she just call?"

"Dunno," he said. "She sounded sort of hoarse, though. And they were driving somewhere and her phone kept cutting out. I guess she figured one call was all that was going to get through."

"That's weird," I said. "Where could they have been giving hospice training that they had to drive through a phone free zone? There aren't many of those left."

"I didn't ask. There are lots of places with poor coverage on the northshore, though. Maybe he went to St. Tammany Hospice. Parts of the Causeway don't have many bars either, depending on what carrier you have."

He didn't stay long. He had a date, too. "My dates start a lot later than your Mom's," he said with a wink. "We're going clubbing, and the club scene doesn't get going too early."

I snorted. "Ya think? Mom's date will probably be over about the time yours is getting started." He walked out the door, laughing. I hollered after him, "Dance the night away with your current lady." He just swiveled his hips and waved over his shoulder.

The next morning Mom called. Her voice sounded scratchy.

"What happened to you? Did you wear your voice out at the training or are you coming down with something?" I asked.

She cleared her throat. "I'm not sure. Just to be safe, I'm not coming in today. I'll send Seth to check up on you."

"No need. Dr. Patel said I should be able to go home Monday. He's even taking today off. He said to tell you he'll talk to you tomorrow." I paused and then said in what I hoped was a convincing tone. "I'll be fine. No one needs to check on me."

"I know," she said slowly.

"Look, if you really need a report, just call the nurses station."

She laughed. "Okay, okay. I guess you need a guardian free day. I'm just going to go drink some honey and lemon to sooth my throat."

"Bye. Oh and have some tea and toast, too. I'd fix you some if I wasn't in here."

"Okay. See you tomorrow. I love you."

Sunday Mom rushed in right at 7 o'clock so she would be there when Dr. Patel came in. He usually made his rounds at 7ish. He didn't disappoint. He came in right behind Mom.

She looked a little ragged, but when she spoke, her voice sounded stronger.

"CW is recovering admirably," he told Mom. "His lungs appear to be healing well. His ribs are mending. Most of his bruises are gone. His arm is not healing as rapidly as I expected, though. He's probably going to be wearing that cast for at least another six weeks or longer. He'll have the metal rod in there for life. The bone should grow up around it, but it's not progressing as well as we hoped. If it doesn't improve, we may have to go in and do some bone grafts."

"More surgery?" I asked.

"Maybe," he said. "We'll just wait and see."

"So can I go back to school?"

"Not yet, sport," he said. "I don't want you anywhere that your arm might get jarred. I've been in the halls of high schools. They're pretty crowded. No, I think it's best that you stay home until your arm improves."

Mom breathed a sigh of relief. I know she didn't want me to go back to school. She was worried about what the kids would say to me about the wreck. "I'm not glad that the arm isn't healing," she said, "but I am glad that CW has a medical reason to remain homebound. I've asked the school to classify him as homebound for the remainder of the semester because of the sentencing and his needing to testify in the other trials, but I haven't gotten an answer from the school board yet. The principal agreed with me and presented my request to the board, but the final decision is theirs."

After Dr. Patel left, they brought in breakfast trays for both of us. When Mom was there, the nurses made sure she got food. After we had eaten, Mom raised the head of my bed to a sitting position. She rolled the recliner up beside the bed. "We need to talk," she said.