Living in a Small Town

Tommy settled into his share of the room, and into the home very well. It had been two weeks since he and Tay had arrived, but both boys were already getting used to the idea that it was finally alright for them to be their true selves around their families, and around town. Whenever anyone asked Tommy’s new Granny how she managed to first find Jude’s birth family, and get Tommy sent to his gay uncle, not to mention keep Tommy and Tay together through it all, she would just smile and say, “O ye of little faith.” Tommy didn’t know how it had happened, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain about it. He was living a life he could have only dreamed of six months earlier.

There was, however, one major setback. Poppa had received notice that the two teens would have to go back to their old hometown and be prepared to testify in the trials of their fathers. The old man desperately wanted to go with them, of course, but he couldn’t have both him and his night commander leave town for an indefinite time. His brother-in-law Henry had already agreed to go with Jude, Stan, and the boys as their legal representative. Kaden and Kit would be staying with Janie and Aunt Ellie, and just like Poppa had to stay for his duties, Tay’s new parents had to stay in town as well.

 

********************

 

“Your honor, the defense would like to suggest that this is a one-time spur of the moment thing and that Mr. Montgomery was not responsible for his actions as he was so distraught from the shock of finding his son in bed with his best friend. That isn’t quite all of the facts, however.”

“Save your grandstanding for jury trials, counselor,” the judge warned. “The Montgomery family is well known in affluential circles in this town.”

“So, does this defendant have a membership at your exclusive country club as well? Shall I move for a mistrial now, your honor?”

“You will watch your mouth, Ms. Bianchi. Stick to the actual facts of this case alone, or I will have you in contempt faster than you can blink.”

“This is all down to the sinful influence of the gay agenda. This honorable man should be released at once,” a nasally sounding voice screeched. “A good Christian family is being torn apart.”

“Who are you, and how dare you make such an outburst in my courtroom?” the judge bellowed.

“I am Pastor Donovan Hightower, senior minister of the church the Montgomery family attends, your honor. I am also a social worker assigned to the case of the Montgomery child that was stolen from our state and placed in the home of a homosexual couple.”

“It would seem we have a case of conflict of interest for you after all, Ms. Bianchi,” the judge snorted. “Now, MISTER Hightower, if you believe you have a problem within your department of children’s services, I suggest you take it up with your superior in your office on your time, not mine. Sit down and shut up, until and unless you are on this witness stand.”

“Your honor, I would like to call Mr. Jude Truesdale to the stand,” Ms. Bianchi called out. Jude stood and walked to the witness chair and stood as he was sworn in. “Could you please tell the court who you are and why you are here?”

“My name now is Jude Eric Truesdale, but I was born Jude Eric Montgomery. The defendant was my older brother,” Jude stated clearly.

“Oh, come off it, Judy, I’m still your big brother, and I’m kicking your little fairy ass when this is over, you little shit.”

“Mr. Cole, have you lost all sense of what is appropriate in a courtroom? I suggest you keep a tighter leash on your client and his… entourage,” the judge growled. “Mr. Truesdale, you may continue.”

“I left my family some years ago, when Mr. Montgomery attempted to kill me for being gay,” Jude said firmly. “He mistakenly thought that while he had been away at a religious college playing football that I was still the ninety-eight pound weakling that he had left behind four years previous. Unfortunately for him, I had spent that time serving in a school program led by the local police department. When Tom attacked me in my bedroom, I successfully fought him off, and left the house. I never returned as our parents had sided with him on the issue. I legally changed my name, and attended a state college, earning my degree in criminal justice. I am currently serving as Deputy Sergeant of my local sheriff’s department.”

“My congratulations, Sergeant Truesdale,” the judge smiled. “You seem to have moved past an unpleasant adolescence and are living an honorable life.”

“Thank you, your honor.”

“Let him explain why he is here,” the preacher called out.

“Mr. Hightower, you will not be warned again. Keep your mouth shut as it is not your place to make a sound in this courtroom unless, as I have previously stated, you are on this witness stand. Mr. Cole, my dwindling patience for you and your friends is not boding well for your client.”

“My apologies, your honor,” the defense attorney mumbled as he glared at the social working preacher.

“When my nephew, Tommy, was removed from my former brother’s care, as a blood relative, I was given the option of taking him in. My husband and I have since adopted Tommy. He, like me, wants no further contact with the Montgomery family.”

“You see, your honor, from Mr. Truesdale’s testimony that this is not the first time that Mr. Montgomery has reacted with lethal levels of violence to the idea that a member of his family was gay, therefore he cannot claim this to be the first-time shock that he has tried to make us believe in his earlier statements,” Ms. Bianchi proclaimed. “Your witness, Mr. Cole.”

“I have no questions for this witness, your honor,” Mr. Cole started saying, but he was yelled over by the social worker and pastor.

“I have plenty of questions,” Mr. Hightower snarled.

“All right, I’ve had enough,” the judge growled. “Do either of you counselors have anyone here that can answer this man’s oh so important questions so that he will finally figure out that he is not in his pulpit now so he can shut his big fat mouth?”

“Your Honor, I believe I have someone that can handle Mr. Hightower, if you will allow it,” Uncle Henry said as he stood up.

“Who are you, sir?” the judge asked.

“I am the honorable Henry Phillip Higgins, of the high court of Jefferson County, former justice of the federal court system.”

“Henry Higgins?” the judge gasped. “Would you happen to be the Henry Higgins that attended a certain Ivy League college and starred on that school’s debate team?”

“Well, I can’t guarantee that you are thinking of me, but I do fit that description,” Uncle Henry admitted.

“I don’t expect you will remember me, sir, but when you and I were in college at different schools, mind you, my alma mater’s debate team went up against yours. We lost spectacularly. I have followed your career with interest, ever since.” He stood then and bowed to Uncle Henry. “Welcome to my courtroom, your honor. I was saddened to hear that you left the federal courts two years ago, but then I learned the circumstances that forced that decision. You have my profound sympathy on the loss of your son and his wife.”

“Thank you, your honor, but if you will permit me to correct you,” Uncle Henry said with a smile. “I remember that debate well, sir. I particularly remember a certain college junior named Raymond Baranski that made my team sweat to win the debate. Now, if you will allow me, I will call my sister to the stand to take care of your Hightower problem for you.”

“Do you mind me asking what your sister has to do with the case?” Mr. Cole asked. “I have no information about her that I am aware of,” he added as he shuffled through some papers on the table in front of him.

“My name is Patricia Higgins Truesdale….”

“Now, Pat, you know you have to give your whole name in court,” Uncle Henry said with a smirk on his face.

“You will pay for this later, little brother,” Granny growled. “I am Hendrixia Patricia Higgins Truesdale, and….”

“Hold up, hold up,” the judge choked out. “Hendrixia? What kind of name is that?”

“We are twins, your honor,” Uncle Henry and Granny said in unison. “We were expected to be identical twins and Daddy thought we would both be boys,” Granny continued. “He never picked out a girl’s name, he was that convinced. When I was born first, he went with the name he had wanted to give his first-born Hendrix Patrick Higgins, but he attempted to make it a girl’s name.”

“Let the court records show that the witness will be referred to as Patricia Higgins Truesdale,” the judge ordered.

“Thank you, your honor,” Granny smiled. “It’s reassuring to know that at least some judges can still be a gentleman and a judge.”

“Judge Higgins, the witness is yours, but I would advise caution,” the judge snickered. “I believe this takes the term hostile witness to a new level.”

“She’ll forgive me later, your honor,” Uncle Henry smiled. “I’m about to give her the moment she has been itching for since we got here.” With that, he walked closer to the witness stand. “I believe your introduction was interrupted, my dear. Would you like to continue?”

“Thank you, Henry,” Granny smiled. “I am the chief social worker in charge of children’s services for Jefferson County. I should also point out that my husband is the county sheriff, so I am moderately familiar with the legal side of this case as well.”

“Your brother is the county judge and your husband is the county sheriff?” Ms. Bianchi asked from her table. “I would say you are well acquainted with the legalities of the case.”

“I would further like to point out that I am a board certified, state licensed social worker, unlike some people,” Granny spoke up again. “When Jude applied for a position with my husband’s department, I was curious why he had stated on the application that he was married, but he never gave a spouse’s name. I had Willy, my husband, call Jude on the phone and find out about that. I was also intrigued that they gave their last name as Stonewall, and yet there was practically no history of them, either of them in official records anywhere. So, I did what any self-respecting, Southern woman who just so happens to be a board certified, state licensed social worker married to a sheriff would do. I dug into them. I learned both of their birth names and as much of their histories as could be gotten by legal means. This automatically set me to watching both of their birth families, just in case. Any family that throws out their child because said child is not what they expected… well… they don’t deserve the term family.”

“As it turns out, I was right to keep my eyes out for anything, as I was notified when the events we are here to discuss came about,” Granny continued. “As soon as young Tommy and his beau were put into the system, I contacted the local children’s services office to let them know that I was in contact with a blood relative of Tommy’s. Fortunately, the local supervisor agreed with me that it was in the best interest of both boys that they remain in contact with one another. I stay informed of all the latest data on sexual minority youth in this country. It’s shameful how some of the children in this country are treated by the very department that is supposed to protect them and have their best interests at heart. Statistically speaking, they are in great danger of damage from self-harm just because they aren’t straight, but to separate a couple like them, well that ramps up those chances of self-harm exponentially.”

“My church maintains a camp that would have taken both boys and corrected their sinful ways and thoughts,” Mr. Hightower blurted. “They could have been reintegrated into loving, Christian homes, their own home in the case of young Thomas.”

“I’ve heard reports on camps like yours, Mr. Hightower,” the judge snapped. “They would have had better survival chances on their own on the streets, and that is a very low bar indeed. And what of the other young man? Would you have returned him to his birth family?”

“Well, no, your honor,” the minister mumbled as if he knew his answer wasn’t going to go over well.

“Would that be because his family was not Christian?” Ms. Bianchi asked pointedly.

“Social workers in the employ of the state should not let their own religious bias interfere with the case of the welfare of a child,” Granny practically growled. “You swore an oath to be impartial to anything but the best interests of the children you would be working with, and you use your religion as a weapon to twist their lives and harm them, no doubt the same way you were harmed as a child by some religious fanatic.”

“God has told me to pray for you, ma’am,” the preacher said, with a voice that was as insincere as a used car salesman.

“That’s funny, sir, as I talk to God all the time, and He has never mentioned you, beyond telling me that those of true faith have nothing in common with your religion.”

“You are a demon sent here to wage war on the good Christian people of this community,” Mr. Hightower shrieked.

“If you see a demon, it is more likely the one you serve, not me,” Granny returned calmly. “I am, however, here as a warrior to bring some justice. My apologies for interrupting your courtroom procedure, your honor, but authorities are waiting outside to arrest Mr. Hightower for fraudulently misrepresenting himself to the office of children’s services of this state. He does not have a degree in social work, nor did he even complete his ministerial degree. He dropped out of his Bible college, which isn’t accredited anyway, to take on the role of pastor of his church; a church he has been embezzling funds from since his first day there, I might add.”

“Bailiff, is this true?” the judge asked quickly, as Mr. Hightower sputtered and tried to defend himself.

“I have no idea about the rest of it, your honor, but there are state police officers outside, waiting to be admitted entrance,” came the reply.

“By all means, let them in. I think I will enjoy this floor show.”

A moment later, three big strong well-built state troopers were putting the minister into zip tie cuffs while another one was reading the man his Miranda Rights. “This is a violation of my rights,” the minister was screaming.

“SILENCE!” the judge bellowed. Everyone in the room fell silent. “Thank you. Officers, I would like to address Mr. Hightower, if I may. Don’t worry, I promise to excuse myself from his case if it should come before me. Mr. Hightower, I would like to take this moment to explain something about the rights we have and hold dear in this country. You have many rights, personal and otherwise, and they are guaranteed by the Constitution of this great country. What you seem to be missing is this one simple fact. Nowhere in that Constitution does it say that even a single one of your rights is any more important than anyone else’s. In short, sir, you have the right to do or say almost anything you want,” he said calmly, but then his voice got hard like steel and as cold as ice. “But you do not, nor will you ever, have the right to override someone else’s. You have the right to do many things, yes, but you also have the responsibility to make sure that the exercise of YOUR rights does not interfere with the rights of ANYONE else. Thank you, officers, now, please take him out of my courtroom, so we can get back to the trial we are here to settle.”

“Your Honor, I would like to take this moment to request a continuance on behalf of my client, Mr. Montgomery,” Mr. Cole announced suddenly.

“On what grounds, Mr. Cole?” the judge asked.

“On the grounds that he will be needing a new attorney,” the man answered. He held up a pamphlet that he had gotten from Granny during the commotion of the arrest of the preacher. “This isn’t evidence in this case, your honor, but it is facts that I was unaware of previously. My son came out to me last night, and I didn’t respond to it as a loving father should have. I shamefully admit that I reacted very nearly as badly as my former client here. This pamphlet indicates the most likely responses my son is experiencing to my blatant stupidity last night. I may not understand him, but I love him and I really want him to know that, just in case he is thinking of… any of this,” he said as he waved the pamphlet in the air again. “I can’t represent someone that I won’t give my full effort in their defense.” He turned to face Tommy’s sperm donor at that point and said, “I hope you fry for what you’ve done so you can spend the rest of eternity watching your brother be the father to your son that you should have been.”

“Not that it matters under the circumstances, Ms. Bianchi, but I will assume you have no objections to the continuance?” the judge asked.

“As you say, given the circumstances, the state agrees to a continuance. On a more personal note, Mr. Cole, you will probably find your son at my parents’ home.”

“Why would Danny be at your parents’ home?”

“Because that’s where my younger brother Dax lives,” Ms. Bianchi said with a smirk.

“Please tell me I don’t have to have more Bianchi’s in my life,” Mr. Cole whined.

“Ok, I’ll let Danny tell you that,” Ms. Bianchi laughed.

“This has been the most unorthodox, craziest, and most informative as well as entertaining case I’ve had before me in quite a while,” Judge Baranski smiled. “Bailiff, remand Mr. Montgomery to the county jail until he has new counsel. Court is adjourned.”