Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Twelve-year-old Bobby sat around with a couple of his buddies, inhaling marijuana sticks and looking as superior as anyone in the neighbourhood could. His eyes were fixed on a young boy walking alone in the alley, oblivious of the gang of bullies tailing him. The bullies easily picked up the kid by his shorts and demanded for something in return for his dignity. The kid shook his head, implying he had nothing to give, but the bullies persisted. The kid began calling out Bobby’s name, and rolling his eyes in scorn, Bobby approached the bullies.
“You know this kid, Manning?” one of the bigger bullies asked.
Bobby was unsure whether to give them the truth or not. He threw his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it. Exhaling, he said, “Nope.”
Then Bobby watched as the bullies tormented the boy, scaring him, beating him and throwing him about until he wet himself. The bullies laughed and stripped the boy of his clothes. The boy tried to run away, stark-naked, but the bullies took him, tied him up with a rope and continued to ridicule him. The boy cried and begged Bobby for help, but Bobby stood aside, refusing to listen.
Three months had passed since Manning first entered the George Washington Hospital, and tonight, his closest friend and colleague Dr. Jack Hudson offered to treat him to dinner. At six in the evening, Manning and Hudson sat at a two-seat table in Randy’s Bistro, munching down on a terrific steak dinner paid for by Hudson.
“How has your first three months been, Dr. Manning?” Hudson asked.
“A living hell,” Manning answered with a knowing smile. “Patients just don’t stop
coming in and they never appreciate what you do for them.”
Hudson chuckled. “Get used to it. You’re originally from DC, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I was born here.”
“Why’d you move to Australia? The schools here not good enough for you?” Hudson
joked.
“I needed a change of environment,” Manning shrugged. “I didn’t have a very good childhood, and to tell you the truth, I was hoping I’d never have to come back.”
“Yet, you took up the job offer,” Hudson said. “Why is it that I find it hard to believe that money wasn’t an incentive for you to come back?”
He’s right… Why did I come back? My job back in Australia was great.
Manning shook his head as he swallowed his last bite. “I find that pretty hard to believe too.”
Hudson’s pager suddenly stared vibrating and he picked it up from its holster around his waist. “Duty calls. Wait for me in the car. I’ll be right there after I pay for our meals.”
Manning stood and left the restaurant. He looked around him at the dark, still-familiar streets and wondered if his old neighbourhood had changed. He had always hated the crummy place where the buildings were deteriorating, the alleys were filthy and the air reeked of garbage, urine and marijuana. Marijuana… Manning could hardly believe he smoked that once. It felt so good back then, but in the present, it disgusted him. Every time he took a whiff of marijuana on the streets, he would recoil and take a moment to shake off bad memories.
The city was still the same, yet so much had changed over ten short years.
“Counsel, are you telling me your clients want to adopt this kid?” the judge asked in disbelief.
“Yes, your honour, they’ve come to the conclusion that this child does not need punishment for what he did, but loving care that will teach him what is right,” Bobby’s prosecutor answered.
The judge turned to the elderly couple sitting before him. “Mr. and Mrs. Harrison, are you aware of what you’re doing?”
“Yes, your honour,” Mr. Harrison nodded.
“By right, you can’t just pick up a child from the streets and claim his as your own – there are processes you have to go through.”
“We don’t mind not calling him our own, your Honour,” Mrs. Harrison spoke. “But the boy obviously has no one to care for him and we’d like to provide that.”
The judge looked disturbed. But he could not have felt as disturbed as Bobby did. He had just attempted to rob the couple of their belongings, but here they were offering kindness in return. It confused the juvenile delinquent completely.
“In that case, Mr and Mrs Harrison, the decision to have the child under your care isn’t mine, but his,” the judge said, pointing at Bobby.
The judge paused for a moment before asking Bobby to stand.
“Robert Manning, I’m going to make this very straightforward, so I expect a straightforward answer. Do you agree to be under Mr and Mrs Harrison’s care?”
Bobby looked at the judge then glanced at Mr and Mrs Harrison. They looked back at him with hope in their eyes.
“Mr. Manning?”
Bobby turned back to the judge. “If they will take my brother too.”
Twelve-year-old Bobby sat around with a couple of his buddies, inhaling marijuana sticks and looking as superior as anyone in the neighbourhood could. His eyes were fixed on a young boy walking alone in the alley, oblivious of the gang of bullies tailing him. The bullies easily picked up the kid by his shorts and demanded for something in return for his dignity. The kid shook his head, implying he had nothing to give, but the bullies persisted. The kid began calling out Bobby’s name, and rolling his eyes in scorn, Bobby approached the bullies.
“You know this kid, Manning?” one of the bigger bullies asked.
Bobby was unsure whether to give them the truth or not. He threw his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it. Exhaling, he said, “Nope.”
Then Bobby watched as the bullies tormented the boy, scaring him, beating him and throwing him about until he wet himself. The bullies laughed and stripped the boy of his clothes. The boy tried to run away, stark-naked, but the bullies took him, tied him up with a rope and continued to ridicule him. The boy cried and begged Bobby for help, but Bobby stood aside, refusing to listen.
Three months had passed since Manning first entered the George Washington Hospital, and tonight, his closest friend and colleague Dr. Jack Hudson offered to treat him to dinner. At six in the evening, Manning and Hudson sat at a two-seat table in Randy’s Bistro, munching down on a terrific steak dinner paid for by Hudson.
“How has your first three months been, Dr. Manning?” Hudson asked.
“A living hell,” Manning answered with a knowing smile. “Patients just don’t stop
coming in and they never appreciate what you do for them.”
Hudson chuckled. “Get used to it. You’re originally from DC, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I was born here.”
“Why’d you move to Australia? The schools here not good enough for you?” Hudson
joked.
“I needed a change of environment,” Manning shrugged. “I didn’t have a very good childhood, and to tell you the truth, I was hoping I’d never have to come back.”
“Yet, you took up the job offer,” Hudson said. “Why is it that I find it hard to believe that money wasn’t an incentive for you to come back?”
He’s right… Why did I come back? My job back in Australia was great.
Manning shook his head as he swallowed his last bite. “I find that pretty hard to believe too.”
Hudson’s pager suddenly stared vibrating and he picked it up from its holster around his waist. “Duty calls. Wait for me in the car. I’ll be right there after I pay for our meals.”
Manning stood and left the restaurant. He looked around him at the dark, still-familiar streets and wondered if his old neighbourhood had changed. He had always hated the crummy place where the buildings were deteriorating, the alleys were filthy and the air reeked of garbage, urine and marijuana. Marijuana… Manning could hardly believe he smoked that once. It felt so good back then, but in the present, it disgusted him. Every time he took a whiff of marijuana on the streets, he would recoil and take a moment to shake off bad memories.
The city was still the same, yet so much had changed over ten short years.
“Counsel, are you telling me your clients want to adopt this kid?” the judge asked in disbelief.
“Yes, your honour, they’ve come to the conclusion that this child does not need punishment for what he did, but loving care that will teach him what is right,” Bobby’s prosecutor answered.
The judge turned to the elderly couple sitting before him. “Mr. and Mrs. Harrison, are you aware of what you’re doing?”
“Yes, your honour,” Mr. Harrison nodded.
“By right, you can’t just pick up a child from the streets and claim his as your own – there are processes you have to go through.”
“We don’t mind not calling him our own, your Honour,” Mrs. Harrison spoke. “But the boy obviously has no one to care for him and we’d like to provide that.”
The judge looked disturbed. But he could not have felt as disturbed as Bobby did. He had just attempted to rob the couple of their belongings, but here they were offering kindness in return. It confused the juvenile delinquent completely.
“In that case, Mr and Mrs Harrison, the decision to have the child under your care isn’t mine, but his,” the judge said, pointing at Bobby.
The judge paused for a moment before asking Bobby to stand.
“Robert Manning, I’m going to make this very straightforward, so I expect a straightforward answer. Do you agree to be under Mr and Mrs Harrison’s care?”
Bobby looked at the judge then glanced at Mr and Mrs Harrison. They looked back at him with hope in their eyes.
“Mr. Manning?”
Bobby turned back to the judge. “If they will take my brother too.”
posted by Merr-peng at 11:17 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home