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How do you begin to explain what its like to encounter an Angel? I'd heard plenty of stories about angels coming to you when you thought there was no hope. I was ready to give up, nobody cared about me or what had happened. Nobody believed what I knew to be the absolute truth, just kept telling me it couldn't have happened that way. I was awash in the system, no anchor, no safe port, no lighthouse to guide me.
My lawyer was more nuisance than help trying to 'plead' my case rather than go through the trouble to find out what had really happened or why. The system doesn't care about truth, only its own interpretation of what truth is. Handle the case, due process or no; get it off the docket as quickly as possible with the least amount of hassle.
There was, I suppose, one saving grace, the State in its infinite wisdom decided I was too young to be incarcerated. Even pleading my case could only place me in foster care away from any possible contact with the victim. In Juvenile Court there are only two pleas: admission and denial. Supposedly designed to keep from tainting the child's future, Juvenile proceedings are conducted behind closed doors, cloaked in secrecy.
Unknown to me, while I was shuttled back and forth from meeting to meeting, someone in the background was actually looking out for my best interests. He was in town dealing with another case unconnected to mine but became interested in me after we chatted. I had no idea he was actually a Juvenile Probation Officer, an officer of the Court from Ohio. Answering the innumerable questions of heaven knows how many interviewers, I was literally under observation twenty four, seven. When I wasn't answering questions I was stuck in a single room that had a bunk, sink/toilet and a steel desk bolted to the wall. Not exactly a cheerful place for a 10 year old boy.
Most of the adults I came into contact with were much too busy to listen to what I was saying. They already had their minds made up what had happened and why. When Paul showed up, he just chatted instead of asking a bunch of questions. (It would be months before I realized how subtle he was, getting information without ever appearing to ask a direct question.) For whatever reason I didn't mind talking to Paul, he seemed to care, pay attention to what I was saying and reflected a lot of it back to me. He never stayed long, half an hour at most, but he kept coming back when I really needed someone to talk to.
I was really surprised when Paul turned up at my hearing. I was expecting the Court to make some decision regarding where I would be sen; never realizing there had been a major battle going on behind the scenes. Paul wanted me knowing full well I was a handful for anyone. There was some question since he was/is a single parent, employed full time and an officer of the Court. When the dust finally settled, the Court agreed placing me with Paul was surely in my best interests. Within the hour, I was processed through the Juvenile Court, placed on 'protective supervision' and jurisdiction transferred from Nebraska to Ohio. That fateful hour was a turning point in my life, a minor miracle proving beyond any doubt God does send angels when they are most needed.
To coin a computer phrase I was the ultimate WYSIWYG kid that morning. My social worker had gathered up my meager belongings from the foster home, stuffed them in a couple of sacks and promptly forgot where she had put them. When it was time to leave with Paul, my entire worldly estate consisted of the clothes I was wearing plus a plastic baggie containing my toothbrush, comb, half a pencil, and a small bar of soap. Not exactly the kind of estate to start a new life with, but Paul didn't mind, he just wanted to get started since it was going to be a long trip home.
We had another passenger, a teen Paul was transporting back to Ohio, which was why Paul had been there to begin with. We hadn't even gotten out of town before I wet my pants, just the way to start a new relationship. We had to make a quick stop at the store where Paul bought me some underwear and dry shorts. It was warm enough in the car I didn't need my jeans, the shorts were nylon so they would dry quickly should the need arise.
Paul said it was going to be a long drive and he wasn't kidding. We drove straight for fifteen hours before we finally arrived in Ohio. I'd actually done pretty good, only a couple of accidents which we handled by stopping in the rest stops along the way. Drew slept most of the way which gave Paul and I a chance to talk. I found out he was a Juvenile Probation Officer and that when we got "home", I'd meet my foster brother. I wasn't exactly excited about another teenage boy being responsible for my care. Paul told me not to worry, he knew all about the "incident" and was quite sure there would be no problems like that at "home". I wanted to believe him, I needed to believe him, most of all I needed someone to believe in me. Those fifteen hours changed my life drastically; I'd literally stumbled into an angel, my prayers had been answered.
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