LJ Idol Season 8 Week 2 - Yesterday Screaming at You from God Knows Where
o/` "Congratulations, heart.
You've committed the ultimate crime.
At least we know you're still beating, but apparently you can't keep time.
How can we expect to live with the truth under our mattresses,
suffocating the souls we were trying to save? o/`
-- Kinives to the Brain performed by DESA
"You're a mother."
I swallowed carefully --- it simply wouldn't do to splatter tea all over the drawing room's antebellum decor --- and carefully set the delicate porcelain teacup on the side table. He couldn't possibly be serious, I decided, especially since the types of activities which would have led to such a conclusion were proscribed by his physician until further notice. "Dee, that's not funny. You know I can't..." I risked a look at his face and expected to see an ear splitting lopsided grin as he enjoyed my discomfiture. Diagenou wasn't smiling; he looked absolutely worn out and grimaced as though he'd acquired a splitting headache. I wondered why the 'routine matters' of the family business would have left him so wiped out and assumed he would tell me in his own time. I motioned for him to sit down with me on the settee and gratefully flopped down beside me. The green eyes darted about nervously, focusing on anything but me or the objects in the room. Whatever it was must have given him a shock. "Where the fuck does your Ma keep the brandy?" I muttered and hoped I could reach it. Illyria had, after all, designed this visit for all intents and purposes to make me as uncomfortable as possible.
"On the tea cart next to the sugar bowl," Diagenou roused himself enough to answer. "Don't bother with the tea, just give me the flask." He took a long drink; his eyes focused more sharply and some color came back into his thin cheeks.
"I thought you were going over some legal matters with your Ma and your brother," I said. "You said it was routine."
"It was," he replied, sipping now instead of gulping, "except for one item. We are now the proud parents of a sixteen year old."
I blinked and started to ask him how on earth that could be possible when I remembered that, on meeting his younger sister earlier in the day, she had mentioned something about custody arrangements. "Why?"
He sighed. "You remember the cemetery across from our lands?" I nodded. "And the untended grave?" Another nod. Diagenou spoke quietly now, with an odd catch in his voice. "Reynard....let's just say he wasn't an ideal sibling and leave it at that? He - he did things to her, horrible things." His fists clenched and he pounded them against his thighs. I took his hand, ice cold and trembling, in mine and stroked the tendons standing out against the white skin until he relaxed a little. "Mother doesn't like spoiled things and so this is how she deals with them." Diagenou's eyes begged me to understand, to give my support and agreement in a way I knew his mouth never would. "We wouldn't have custody of Lix all the time," he offered, brightening. "She'll be with Callistus when he's staying in New Orleans."
"Don't worry about it, Dee," I said, nuzzling his neck and stroking his hair. "We'll make room somehow. How much trouble can it possibly be?"
Famous last words!
*****
"Your daughter's retarded."
"Lix is not retarded," I countered firmly. "Do you do anything besides sit in that chair and dream of telling others how to live their lives? Read her goddamned file!"
"Mrs. Marouche," the woman began soothingly, "I have reviewed Alexa's file. She plainly has" her nose wrinkled "issues for which the mainstream school curriculum is not equipped. Have you thought about institutionalizing her?"
"It's Mrs. Wolfe-Johnson, not Marouche. Mr. Wolfe-Johnson is my husband; Diagenou Marouche is my lover."
The painted on eyebrows rose until they met the dyed purple-red hairline and she scribbled something on a sheet of paper. "Indeed?"
"Indeed. Now if we could get back to discussing Lix's issues.... where's her file and does it have an IEP in it?"
"I'll get it."
I heard her mutter to the secretary at the front desk, "God, I hate dealing with the parents of these retarded freaks. Where is the little monster's file folder?"
"I heard that," I snapped. "I'll thank you kindly to watch your mouth."
Caught off guard, the counselor responded, "Mrs....Johnson, is it? Last week Alexa threatened to stab a male classmate with a pencil."
"No, she didn't. She threatened to shove it up his penis if he didn't quit fondling her."
"Um...well..." Red faced, she retreated. "The circumstances don't matter. She can't do that!"
"I'd have cut the useless little thing off," I responded. "Now, I'll ask you again: have you actually read the child's files?"
"No, I haven't. We have nine hundred children in this school. I can hardly be expected ---"
"I expect you to do so. If you had, you would have known that Lix was sexually molested by a close relative when she was younger and her Ma punished her for it, not the boy. Maybe you'd like to explain how you would have reacted if you had that history?"
"There's still the incident of her breaking into the band room."
"Did she take anything?"
"Well, no..."
"Did you bother asking her what she was doing?"
"No, we assumed---"
"Call her in. I'll ask her."
"Mrs. Johnson, I don't think---"
"Obviously. Now bring the child in here and we'll get to the bottom of this."
The moment I saw her, I could tell Lix wasn't in the mood to cooperate; she never was when she wore the pale grey striped hoodie with the big vampire mouth on the front and the words "bite me" below it. "I don't want to talk to this bitch any more," she declared. "Where's Dee?"
"Working," I said. I probably ought to have corrected her language but I didn't feel like it. "Lix, honey, what class were you in?"
"No class," she muttered. "We sit in the multipurpose room watching Disney videos all day."
"You don't go to class?"
"They won't let me!" she burst out in frustration. "I told them I could already do all that math, but I like science and composition is interesting. But," she sobbed, "the teachers won't make Dwayne leave me alone. So I told him either he keeps his prick to himself or I would do something about it!"
"You've done nothing?" I asked.
"We didn't ---"
"You obviously did. You saw fit to put my child in a special ed program without proper documentation, no IEP, no evaluation but you couldn't protect her from one student who was breaking not only school rules but the law? The hell you didn't know about it."
"A mentally impaired student doesn't have the emotions an undamaged student does," the counselor icily informed me.
"LIX IS NOT RETARDED!" I roared. "I think," I said as I reached for the phone, "we had better call the sheriff. We'll want to press charges for assault and sexual battery on a minor. I'll deal with you and the teachers' blatant ignorance of IEP procedures at a later date."
"She damaged school property," the counselor reminded me. She seemed determined to shift some blame for the mess.
"Lix, what did you want in the band room?"
"I...there's a piano. No one uses it and I wanted to play."
"Can you play, Lixie?"
"I can, just ask Dee! But you don't have one at home."
"We'll see what we can do about that. C'mon."
*****
"Where's the warrant?"
I hadn't heard anyone approach the house. Usually the dogs would have given notice, but today Lix was trying out the upright Steinway we'd just had delivered. The deep, sonorous tones of Theme from the Exodus drummed their way across the keyboard and filled the house with waves of sound. The piece ended just in time for me to hear that phrase. Motioning for Lix to take up her history text, I wheeled my way down the hall and into the living room. It looked like the county's entire SWAT team had somehow managed to invade my living room; I hadn't seen that many guns since Dee's agency had announced the assassination of two of its agents and had sent squads to protect the remaining members and their families.
Neither MIB3 nor MIB4 wore their suits; I'd long ago convinced them that it made them more conspicuous out here. The deputy in charge of whatever the hell it was looked like he was about to take issue with both of them. "Stand aside, this is a state welfare matter."
I'd seen that grin on Diagenou's face before but never on another agent's. Fleetingly, I wondered if they taught that look at Quantico. MIB3, the larger of the two agents, said, "Too bad this is federally protected soil. As those living here are in federal protection, I don't believe you have jurisdiction. Now, the warrant...?"
A small, officious looking man pushed his way between the thicket of guns. "I'm with DCF. We have a report of child neglect and abuse. Here's the paperwork."
MIB4 looked it over. "This is for an inquiry and interview. What's with all the hardware."
"Standard procedure. You never know what these nuts are going to do."
"One of those 'nuts' is ours," MIB3 informed him coldly, "which means he's not only passed several psych evals but he WRITES them. The other, as you can see" he looked at me apologetically and I nodded slightly to let him know I'd take no offense "is a severely obese, middle aged woman who is partially paralyzed and who barely has the strength to push that chair around." Now his voice went to steel. "Drop 'em. Federal protocol, no one enters the dwelling armed."
"Aww, go back to the cars," the DCF representative said.
"Not so fast," said MIB4. "The guns stay here until your DCF fellow finishes. Don't want any accidents."
"What are the charges?" I asked.
The man shuffled the papers in his briefcase. "It says here you illegally cohabit with both your husband and another man."
I snorted. That stupid bitch. "Look...does that report also mention that the man in question is Lix's brother and legal guardian? That his older sister lives here too and that she takes care of my medical needs? I can see it does not. Well, the school counselor" and I had the satisfaction of seeing him flinch "should also have informed you that they're Cajuns. The custodial papers were drawn up in Louisiana; the remaining brother also holds partial custody. That being the case, I don't believe Florida has jurisdiction."
"You're right." He had the grace to look embarrassed. "It does not. Had I known, I would not have come out here in the first place."
Feeling more kindly toward him --- it was not, after all his fault that the counselor was such an opinionated little twat --- I smiled. "I can get her medical files, psychiatric evaluations, and other records for you to look over in order to be certain that all is in order."
"Hmm..." He appeared satisfied and stood to leave. "I won't ask to see her; she's had some awful things done to her and I understand she dislikes strange men." The DCF representative craned his neck for a cursory look around. "Home is clean, all in good order, there's food in the cupboards, electricity and well are running, adults are clean, appear drug free, and capable. I'll close this report immediately."
After he left, I slumped in my chair. One of the MIB brought me a glass of wine, which I sipped. "Let's consider homeschooling."
You've committed the ultimate crime.
At least we know you're still beating, but apparently you can't keep time.
How can we expect to live with the truth under our mattresses,
suffocating the souls we were trying to save? o/`
-- Kinives to the Brain performed by DESA
"You're a mother."
I swallowed carefully --- it simply wouldn't do to splatter tea all over the drawing room's antebellum decor --- and carefully set the delicate porcelain teacup on the side table. He couldn't possibly be serious, I decided, especially since the types of activities which would have led to such a conclusion were proscribed by his physician until further notice. "Dee, that's not funny. You know I can't..." I risked a look at his face and expected to see an ear splitting lopsided grin as he enjoyed my discomfiture. Diagenou wasn't smiling; he looked absolutely worn out and grimaced as though he'd acquired a splitting headache. I wondered why the 'routine matters' of the family business would have left him so wiped out and assumed he would tell me in his own time. I motioned for him to sit down with me on the settee and gratefully flopped down beside me. The green eyes darted about nervously, focusing on anything but me or the objects in the room. Whatever it was must have given him a shock. "Where the fuck does your Ma keep the brandy?" I muttered and hoped I could reach it. Illyria had, after all, designed this visit for all intents and purposes to make me as uncomfortable as possible.
"On the tea cart next to the sugar bowl," Diagenou roused himself enough to answer. "Don't bother with the tea, just give me the flask." He took a long drink; his eyes focused more sharply and some color came back into his thin cheeks.
"I thought you were going over some legal matters with your Ma and your brother," I said. "You said it was routine."
"It was," he replied, sipping now instead of gulping, "except for one item. We are now the proud parents of a sixteen year old."
I blinked and started to ask him how on earth that could be possible when I remembered that, on meeting his younger sister earlier in the day, she had mentioned something about custody arrangements. "Why?"
He sighed. "You remember the cemetery across from our lands?" I nodded. "And the untended grave?" Another nod. Diagenou spoke quietly now, with an odd catch in his voice. "Reynard....let's just say he wasn't an ideal sibling and leave it at that? He - he did things to her, horrible things." His fists clenched and he pounded them against his thighs. I took his hand, ice cold and trembling, in mine and stroked the tendons standing out against the white skin until he relaxed a little. "Mother doesn't like spoiled things and so this is how she deals with them." Diagenou's eyes begged me to understand, to give my support and agreement in a way I knew his mouth never would. "We wouldn't have custody of Lix all the time," he offered, brightening. "She'll be with Callistus when he's staying in New Orleans."
"Don't worry about it, Dee," I said, nuzzling his neck and stroking his hair. "We'll make room somehow. How much trouble can it possibly be?"
Famous last words!
*****
"Your daughter's retarded."
"Lix is not retarded," I countered firmly. "Do you do anything besides sit in that chair and dream of telling others how to live their lives? Read her goddamned file!"
"Mrs. Marouche," the woman began soothingly, "I have reviewed Alexa's file. She plainly has" her nose wrinkled "issues for which the mainstream school curriculum is not equipped. Have you thought about institutionalizing her?"
"It's Mrs. Wolfe-Johnson, not Marouche. Mr. Wolfe-Johnson is my husband; Diagenou Marouche is my lover."
The painted on eyebrows rose until they met the dyed purple-red hairline and she scribbled something on a sheet of paper. "Indeed?"
"Indeed. Now if we could get back to discussing Lix's issues.... where's her file and does it have an IEP in it?"
"I'll get it."
I heard her mutter to the secretary at the front desk, "God, I hate dealing with the parents of these retarded freaks. Where is the little monster's file folder?"
"I heard that," I snapped. "I'll thank you kindly to watch your mouth."
Caught off guard, the counselor responded, "Mrs....Johnson, is it? Last week Alexa threatened to stab a male classmate with a pencil."
"No, she didn't. She threatened to shove it up his penis if he didn't quit fondling her."
"Um...well..." Red faced, she retreated. "The circumstances don't matter. She can't do that!"
"I'd have cut the useless little thing off," I responded. "Now, I'll ask you again: have you actually read the child's files?"
"No, I haven't. We have nine hundred children in this school. I can hardly be expected ---"
"I expect you to do so. If you had, you would have known that Lix was sexually molested by a close relative when she was younger and her Ma punished her for it, not the boy. Maybe you'd like to explain how you would have reacted if you had that history?"
"There's still the incident of her breaking into the band room."
"Did she take anything?"
"Well, no..."
"Did you bother asking her what she was doing?"
"No, we assumed---"
"Call her in. I'll ask her."
"Mrs. Johnson, I don't think---"
"Obviously. Now bring the child in here and we'll get to the bottom of this."
The moment I saw her, I could tell Lix wasn't in the mood to cooperate; she never was when she wore the pale grey striped hoodie with the big vampire mouth on the front and the words "bite me" below it. "I don't want to talk to this bitch any more," she declared. "Where's Dee?"
"Working," I said. I probably ought to have corrected her language but I didn't feel like it. "Lix, honey, what class were you in?"
"No class," she muttered. "We sit in the multipurpose room watching Disney videos all day."
"You don't go to class?"
"They won't let me!" she burst out in frustration. "I told them I could already do all that math, but I like science and composition is interesting. But," she sobbed, "the teachers won't make Dwayne leave me alone. So I told him either he keeps his prick to himself or I would do something about it!"
"You've done nothing?" I asked.
"We didn't ---"
"You obviously did. You saw fit to put my child in a special ed program without proper documentation, no IEP, no evaluation but you couldn't protect her from one student who was breaking not only school rules but the law? The hell you didn't know about it."
"A mentally impaired student doesn't have the emotions an undamaged student does," the counselor icily informed me.
"LIX IS NOT RETARDED!" I roared. "I think," I said as I reached for the phone, "we had better call the sheriff. We'll want to press charges for assault and sexual battery on a minor. I'll deal with you and the teachers' blatant ignorance of IEP procedures at a later date."
"She damaged school property," the counselor reminded me. She seemed determined to shift some blame for the mess.
"Lix, what did you want in the band room?"
"I...there's a piano. No one uses it and I wanted to play."
"Can you play, Lixie?"
"I can, just ask Dee! But you don't have one at home."
"We'll see what we can do about that. C'mon."
*****
"Where's the warrant?"
I hadn't heard anyone approach the house. Usually the dogs would have given notice, but today Lix was trying out the upright Steinway we'd just had delivered. The deep, sonorous tones of Theme from the Exodus drummed their way across the keyboard and filled the house with waves of sound. The piece ended just in time for me to hear that phrase. Motioning for Lix to take up her history text, I wheeled my way down the hall and into the living room. It looked like the county's entire SWAT team had somehow managed to invade my living room; I hadn't seen that many guns since Dee's agency had announced the assassination of two of its agents and had sent squads to protect the remaining members and their families.
Neither MIB3 nor MIB4 wore their suits; I'd long ago convinced them that it made them more conspicuous out here. The deputy in charge of whatever the hell it was looked like he was about to take issue with both of them. "Stand aside, this is a state welfare matter."
I'd seen that grin on Diagenou's face before but never on another agent's. Fleetingly, I wondered if they taught that look at Quantico. MIB3, the larger of the two agents, said, "Too bad this is federally protected soil. As those living here are in federal protection, I don't believe you have jurisdiction. Now, the warrant...?"
A small, officious looking man pushed his way between the thicket of guns. "I'm with DCF. We have a report of child neglect and abuse. Here's the paperwork."
MIB4 looked it over. "This is for an inquiry and interview. What's with all the hardware."
"Standard procedure. You never know what these nuts are going to do."
"One of those 'nuts' is ours," MIB3 informed him coldly, "which means he's not only passed several psych evals but he WRITES them. The other, as you can see" he looked at me apologetically and I nodded slightly to let him know I'd take no offense "is a severely obese, middle aged woman who is partially paralyzed and who barely has the strength to push that chair around." Now his voice went to steel. "Drop 'em. Federal protocol, no one enters the dwelling armed."
"Aww, go back to the cars," the DCF representative said.
"Not so fast," said MIB4. "The guns stay here until your DCF fellow finishes. Don't want any accidents."
"What are the charges?" I asked.
The man shuffled the papers in his briefcase. "It says here you illegally cohabit with both your husband and another man."
I snorted. That stupid bitch. "Look...does that report also mention that the man in question is Lix's brother and legal guardian? That his older sister lives here too and that she takes care of my medical needs? I can see it does not. Well, the school counselor" and I had the satisfaction of seeing him flinch "should also have informed you that they're Cajuns. The custodial papers were drawn up in Louisiana; the remaining brother also holds partial custody. That being the case, I don't believe Florida has jurisdiction."
"You're right." He had the grace to look embarrassed. "It does not. Had I known, I would not have come out here in the first place."
Feeling more kindly toward him --- it was not, after all his fault that the counselor was such an opinionated little twat --- I smiled. "I can get her medical files, psychiatric evaluations, and other records for you to look over in order to be certain that all is in order."
"Hmm..." He appeared satisfied and stood to leave. "I won't ask to see her; she's had some awful things done to her and I understand she dislikes strange men." The DCF representative craned his neck for a cursory look around. "Home is clean, all in good order, there's food in the cupboards, electricity and well are running, adults are clean, appear drug free, and capable. I'll close this report immediately."
After he left, I slumped in my chair. One of the MIB brought me a glass of wine, which I sipped. "Let's consider homeschooling."