Cracks in the Sidewalk(81)

Dudley said, “Your Honor, this request for a restraining order against Jeffrey Caruthers is entered on behalf of my client, Elizabeth Caruthers, and the parents with whom she currently resides. On April nineteenth, Jeffrey Caruthers physically attacked his wife while she was lying in a sickbed. Based on this behavior, we ask that the court prohibit him from entering the McDermott house when he delivers the children for their weekly visit.”

Dudley glanced at his watch and began to speak faster. “We are also asking for sanctions against Mister Caruthers, because for the past three weeks he has failed to present the three minor children for their court-ordered visitation. And this is the third time we have had to take Mister Caruthers back to court because of failure to abide by the specified visitation orders.”

“Rebuttal?” Judge Thumper said, glancing at Noreen.

“Yes, of course,” Noreen answered quickly. “In response to the first complaint, my client did not attack his wife. He saw her in bed, believed her to be asleep, and used a gentle shake to wake her. Unfortunately, Elizabeth Caruthers was in a coma. My client had no knowledge of her condition when he approached her. I find it ludicrous that the plaintiff should be requesting a restraining order since it was Mister McDermott who attacked Jeffrey Caruthers. He suffered a broken nose and needed six stitches to close the gash in his chin!”

“Two minutes,” the judge said, again checking her watch.

Noreen began to speak more rapidly. “The reason Jeffrey Caruthers has not delivered his children for visitation is because he believes it not in their best interest to see their mother in such a deplorable condition. The visitation ordered by Judge Brill applied only to the mother. It explicitly excluded the grandparents since they have no custodial rights in the state of New Jersey.”

Margaret Thumper tapped the face of her watch and Noreen ceased talking. The judge looked at Dudley, “At the time of the alleged attack, was Elizabeth Caruthers comatose?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Is she still comatose?

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Has the husband made any further attempts to approach or harass his wife or her parents?”

“Well, he hasn’t been bringing the children—”

“No long-winded explanations, just yes or no.”

“No.”

The judge turned to Noreen. “Is your client requesting anything other than relief of the visitation order previously issued by the court?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Very well, petition granted.” She turned to Dudley. “I’m giving you the restraining order you requested but denying sanctions against the defendant. And I suggest that you don’t waste the court’s time with any further motions for visitation.”

“But, Your Honor,” Dudley stuttered. “There is a distinct possibility my client will come out of this coma, and if she—”

“How long has she been comatose, Counselor?”

“About seven weeks, but she shows signs of—”

“If she snaps out of it, you can re-file.” With that Margaret Thumper stood.

A stunned Dudley Grimm walked slowly down the hall while Noreen hurried to call her client with the good news.





The Long Hot Summer


Summer came early that year with a blast of heat that sent people in search of air conditioners and oscillating fans. Claire pushed back the curtains and opened the windows in Elizabeth’s room hoping to catch a cross breeze. In the fourth week of June the air hung hot and heavy as an August day.

Claire lifted her daughter’s head and slid a fresh, cool pillow beneath it. Elizabeth’s face and hair were damp, her eyelids fluttering.

It’s this heat, Claire reasoned, as she folded back the sheet and the lightweight blanket. She telephoned Charlie and asked him to bring home an industrial-sized fan so they could get the air in the room circulating. Afterwards she went into the kitchen and returned with a large bowl of ice water and a soft square of terrycloth. She dipped the cloth in water, twisted it lightly to remove the falling droplets, then ran the cloth across her daughter’s face, neck, and arms. Elizabeth’s skin grew cool and comfortable to the touch.

“Doesn’t this feel refreshing?” Claire asked rhetorically, using the same gentle tone she’d used for nearly two months. “With the weather as hot as it’s been, there’s little else we can do to keep cool. Daddy is going to bring home…”

She continued for hours with a steady stream of conversation to accompany the gentle sponge bath. Each time the ice melted, Claire went back for another bowl. Eventually Elizabeth seemed to settle into a more restful sleep.

That night Charlie stood a huge fan in the corner of the room, stretched an extension cord across the room, and turned it on. “How’s that?” he asked.

“Better,” Claire answered, grateful for the darkness that cooled the room to a tolerable level.

When the sun rose the next morning, the heat was worse and the humidity so thick a person could feel it crawling across their skin. Claire had fallen asleep on the day bed, but when she woke Elizabeth seemed more restless than the previous day. Her fingers twitched from time to time, and she jerked her head from side to side. Claire felt her brow, which was clammy and damp with perspiration.

She adjusted the fan so that it moved a flow of air across the room but did not blow directly on the bed, and then she went for another bowl of ice water.