Schifflebein's Folly

CHAPTER 15: THE COURTROOM

At the Miami-Dade County Courthouse on Friday morning, August 15th, the courthouse buzzards swarmed and perched on the room while the Parks and Recreation Department buzzards swarmed the corridor outside Courtroom 6-B. The opposition forces had mustered in a show of strength, even though the judicial deck was thoroughly stacked in their favor.

George Abrams loitered with the other three County inspectors with whom he had played poker on the days someone was scheduled to approve the Schifflebein playground project at one stage or another. Laverne, she of the world's least probable shade of red hair, represented the Zoning Department.

Some distance down the corridor, Lloyd waited with Remmy Jackson. The chime of an arriving elevator echoed through the tiled hallway followed by the swish of an opening door and an explosion of childish greetings and giggles. The Schifflebein children had arrived and had spotted their hero. By the time Hepzibah Stoner strode off the elevator, Lloyd was on his knees surrounded by four jabbering high voices and twelve clutching, hugging little arms. Hepzibah walked to Remmy's side and together they smiled at the puddle of chaos before them, where Lloyd tried to kiss each squirming, prattling child.

The outside world no longer existed for Lloyd and the children. They neither knew nor cared that others observed them and might possibly be judging them. They were cocooned in the joy of being together again, aware only of the absolute rightness of life now that their odd family was reunited – however briefly it might turn out to be.

George Abrams watched the tableau as Lloyd managed to line up the children and pass before them, still on his knees, inspecting them one by one. George saw Lloyd using sign language with a diminutive Asian child who must be deaf. He noted a little Hispanic-looking boy who was obviously blind, a girl no more than ten or so, with one leg in a complicated leather-and-metal contraption.

The other inspectors grew silent as they, too, saw what was happening. Lloyd brushed the hair of a tiny Asian boy, and he deftly rebraided the pigtail of a preschool-age girl. Then he hugged the smallest boy, a mixed-race child, and spoke to him. The little boy smiled widely, but did not speak.

"Geez, are those his kids?" breathed Robert, the inspector who had lied to Lloyd on the phone more than once.

"Criminy, how sweet!" Laverne said.

"That little blind kid looks about the same age as my son," said another man.

Every face in the group of County employees drew into an expression of concern.

George Abrams cleared his throat. "Nobody said nothin' to me about takin' his kids. We was just supposed to delay his project. I didn't know about the kids until I saw the newspapers. Takin' them kids, that ain't right."

"That's the guy?" said another inspector from the poker game. "I know that guy! He made a rocking horse for my kid when it was born. Real nice carpentry. Kid's twelve years old now, we still got it. The horse, I mean. And the kid. So, that's the guy these rich schmucks is railroading out of a contract? This ain't right."

Grumbling spread through the group of County employees while the courtroom doors rattled and then opened to admit the waiting crowd. Lloyd gathered his brood and entered the courtroom, followed by Remmy and Hepzibah, still unconscious of the others gathered in the hallway.

Taking an even closer look at the Schifflebein children and their devoted parent, the grumbling County employees followed the group into the courtroom. They took seats in the back of the room, both looking and sounding increasingly dissatisfied.

Inside the courtroom, Lloyd was seated at a table near the desks of a court reporter and a short, familiar-looking uniformed bailiff whose nametag said "Orkney."