A Soul Consumed

Nine

September 7, 2010

Dekalb County Municipal Courthouse stood majestic, centered at the end of a pathway lined with oaks and blooming dogwoods. Pillars of concrete rose from its steps, beacons of strength which led toward the front of the building. They held the weight of the steep, angled roof, laced in oxidized copper, that bore the burden of decisions within. Somewhere in the distance, a bell tower chimed the hour, ringing out over the prestige of the courthouse, hastening any dawdling jurors or petitioners.

Aiden stood just inside the building as Peggy Morgan walked through the double-paned glass doors, a briefcase clutched in one hand. He had chosen a navy suit with a white, collared shirt, paired with a slim navy tie, which he reached up to position for the third time as his lawyer approached. 

"Morning," he said in greeting, working hard to keep a shred of calm in his tone. He'd been waiting by the front door long enough to see Diane walk in with a tall, gray-haired man wearing a standard black suit. The way she'd smiled when she looked at him, so smug and certain, had churned his stomach, sending streaks of fear and tension throughout his body.

As a reply, he'd given Diane a forced nod of acknowledgement, working hard to keep anger from his face. He didn't want to appear to have any negative emotions when he met the judge. It would be too easy for Diane to use his frustration against him, claiming she'd needed to take Lucas away for his own safety.

Not like she wouldn't try that, anyway. He had prepared himself for that. He'd given his lawyer all the evidence proving abuse on her side, all the recordings he'd taken over the years, all the text messages she'd sent him.

Peggy arrived in a no nonsense black suit. She wore her hair down, the gray streak prominent against the dark of her hair. She'd worn very minimal makeup, and no jewelry. "Good morning, Aiden. Are you ready to do this?" she asked.

He answered honestly, almost choking on the words as he said, "No."

She nodded sympathetically. "Remember, this is just emergency temporary. If it doesn't go in our favor, we file for temporary as we wait for the jury trial," she reminded him. She gave him a minute to nod before turning to walk into the building.

It felt like seconds before they were sitting at a lawyer's table in the front of a large courtroom. A large bench took up the front of the room. A desk for the clerk and the recorder sat on the right side of the bench, the witness stand on the left.

Although Aiden was a nervous wreck, Peggy had prepared him the day before, talking him through how to phrase answers when she asked questions, and how to never, ever elaborate on anything Diane's lawyer asked. 

"Yes or no answers, only. Do not explain; give him nothing to use as ammunition. If you truly don't remember what he's asking, say 'maybe' or 'I don't recall,'" she'd explained.

Having dealt in the corporate world for years, writing contracts and finalizing terms, he felt slightly prepared. He'd dealt with difficult CEOs before; he could deal with a hardened lawyer who only wanted to steal his child away from him, right?

He started drumming his fingers against the wood table, trying to find a sense of calm. Peggy reached over and stopped his hand. God, he prayed, trying to quell his nerves, My faith is in you. My desires, my wishes, are nothing compared to the plans you have for me. I hope they align today, but if not, allow me to find understanding in Your decision.

"All rise!" the bailiff boomed. "The Honorable Judge Weisheit is presiding!"

She was so small. That's all Aiden could focus on. This tiny woman Ms. Morgan had cautioned him against, had him petrified of, had spoken so strictly about, barely reach the top of his ribs standing. Beneath her billowing robes, she looked frail, breakable. Even Ms. Francis looked sturdier in comparison. But when she sat and turned her green, piercing eyes on the courtroom, Aiden's blood stopped.