Dreams of Destiny Pt. 03

"The woman said she was Dominica James. She said she was the mother of Mikey, Lily and Devon James, but that there was no child abuse problem in her home. She turned and started to close the door but I put my foot into it. Maria asked if we could come inside and take a look around. Ms. James hesitated, and then shrugged her shoulders and opened the door to let us in.

"It was a small, one bedroom apartment. It was hot inside and smelled of urine, dirty laundry and stale food.. The place was filthy, and crawling with cockroaches. The front door entered into the living room. I noticed the kitchen behind the living room. The bedroom and bathroom were off to the left. There was a back door leading out to a porch and the alley below.

"As I entered the apartment I saw a young teenager in the kitchen with a handgun in his right hand. He froze for a second when he saw me. Then he turned and ran out the kitchen door. I followed him out. At about the time I stepped out onto the back porch I heard a gunshot in the back yard. I drew my service revolver. As I looked down into the back yard I saw the kid run out the gate and into the alley. He was moving fast. I jumped over the porch rail down into the yard and passed through the gate about forty feet behind the kid. The kid ran out flat. It was dark and he knew the neighborhood well so he kept a good distance between us. He led me a merry chase, but I could tell he was tiring when he turned right, into an alley.

"I gained on him until there were no more than fifteen feet between us, and then the poor kid tripped over his own feet and went down flat on his face. The gun skittered out of his hand and ended up in a gutter a few feet away from him.

"I told the kid to freeze. He started to reach out as if to go for the gun. I' told him to freeze, mother fucker, or words to that effect. I told him that if he didn't want to die he'd better lie down flat on his face with his hands behind him.

"The kid flattened out and put his hands behind him. I put on the cuffs nice and gentle, like, and read him his rights. I called in to the dispatcher and then went over to the gutter to recover the gun. After that me and Devon sat together and watched the sun rise whilst waiting for the troops to arrive. And we had us a nice little chat."

Rodgers finished up his tale leaning his long body back in Marty's one comfortable chair. His legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankle. Rodgers was finally starting to relax after hours of built up tension.

"So I guess you think I should put this kid back out on the street," Marty said with disgust.

"No. But I don't think you should screw him, either. Maybe he'd do okay if he had a decent relative somewhere."

"He doesn't. I've checked. And even if he did I wouldn't want him released."

"Don't be such a hard ass, Marty," Rodgers said. "You can't lock up every juvee that ends up in the system.

"Sure I can. Don't do the crime if you can't do the time."

"You'd be happy if we went back to the dark ages, wouldn't you? 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth'."

"Yep," said Marty. "Don't screw around with me on this one, Rodgers. I want the kid locked up."

Rodgers' gave Marty a hard look. He stood up and leaned his hands on the prosecutor's desk. "Don't tell me how to testify, Marty. I don't like it."

Marty looked nervously at the big man across the desk from him. "Oh for Christ's sakes John, lighten up. This is kiddy court, remember? Its elementary school for criminals."

"Yeah, right," Rodgers muttered disdainfully. "So who cares what happens to the kids, anyway?" He walked out of Marty's office feeling soiled, and with a bad taste in his mouth.

"Where are you going?" Marty called to him as he left.

"To the officers lounge outside Courtroom 10. I gotta get some sleep, I'm whipped."

The Courthouse was only a block from the prosecutor's office but it felt like a mile. It was downright hot out now, the sun was an angry gold disk in the morning sky. DC summers had all of the disadvantages of Florida with no beach. What a crappie city. Rodgers thought. He was in a real funk by the time he got to the Courthouse. Kiddy court. Christ, who needs it? Why didn't I just stay in West Palm beach with my nice little murders. When he got to the front of the Court he looked up at the letters over he looked at the words over the door. COURTHOUSE OF THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA and saw them as Outhouse of the District of Columbia. Appropriate, he thought.

John made his way to the officers lounge outside of Courtroom 10. He was exhausted. The lounge was empty and dark. The lumpy cot looked more inviting than any bed he'd seen in a long time. He took off his jacket and lay down. He pulled his jacket over his head to make it seem even darker. He was deeply asleep in a matter of minutes.

John slipped into a familiar dream. He was back in college and taking a long, restful run through the pine forest in Glen Helen. It was late afternoon on an early autumn day. The air was warm and fresh and scented of pine. The light shining through the boughs of the trees was golden and hazy with pollen. There was a clear brook babbling below him on his left side. Large Monarch butterflies were flying along beside him. The path before him turned to the right and began a descent. He let his arms trail out behind him and lifted his chin to the wind as he ran and suddenly he was air born. He climbed quickly, heading into the sun. He flew over the tops of the tallest pines. The wide-open sky was crystalline blue and almost cloudless. He played with the air currents to increase the excitement of his flight. He flew over a pretty blue lake where college girls were enjoying a late season skinny dip. Unembarrassed, they waved at him as he flew by. He made a pass of the small college town and circled the church tower a couple of times. The bells in the clock tower began to chime as he flew by. He flew south, gathering speed, towards his home town. The sun began to set behind him and the air cooled but he did not grow chilled in his flight. He flew on as the sky darkened.

What should I wish for? he wondered when he spotted the first star of the evening. More stars began appearing on the opalescent vista above him . The moon rose. Then he could see the ocean. It was all so beautiful laid out before him. The silvery wave caps shimmered in the dark sea which reflected the moon and the stars above. The cool, salty air was more intoxicating than any liquor.

He headed towards his child hood home. There it was in the distance. It hadn't changed a bit. He barked his speed and angled in, as if he was a small plane preparing to land. His old bedroom window was open, beckoning him. He flew in and landed smoothly. Gloriously tired from the long flight, John sank down into his old childhood bed, pulled up the covers, and fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter V.

Destiny awoke with a start in her bed. It was 7:30 a.m. Her heart was pounding and her eyes were wet as if she had been crying. She had the taste of sangria in her mouth and the name, "Juan" on her lips. She struggled to pull herself back to reality. What day was it, she asked herself? June 30 Yes. What am I supposed to do today?

She ran down the possibilities.

UUV trial. No. That was a dream.

Temporary job.

No, Its been two years since I gave up on that dead end shit job. Two years to the day she realized with a start. On June 29, 2003, Destiny had asked Steve William's boss to back her up on the interrogatories. He said, almost verbatim "Sorry sweetie, work with Stephen or don't work here at all."

On June 30, Stephen told her sleep with him or finish the interrogatories without overtime. Her only option had been to leave. Even though she had loved the hours, the freedom, and the possibility of a permanent spot with the firm.

Destiny had gone into the job with the promise it would lead to bigger and better things. Yeah. Bigger headaches and better reasons to regret having gone to law school to begin with she thought sourly.

Oh, she had been charmed by Stephen at first, with his glittery dark brown eyes, wavy blond hair and his intense, A type personality. Although he was only an inch taller than her he had the bearing of a much taller man.. He was always careful to poise himself so that he seemed to tower over other lesser individuals. Yet he was lithe and graceful as a cat. He had an animal magnetism about his that had, in the beginning, almost mesmerized Destiny.

Destiny had gained some wisdom through a couple of past, unpleasant experiences. She'd dated enough male lawyers to be cautious not trust her first impressions. She had a well honed bullshit barometer and a thick steel shield around her heart.

It hadn't taken her long to pick up on Stephen's underlying madness. She quickly figured out why the firm couldn't keep female associates for more than six months, and had to rely on temporary help. She wasn't sure whether Stephen was bi-polar or a true sociopath, but there was something really off kilter about him. It only really showed when he was under intense pressure or wanted something very badly. But it was there, lurking, waiting beneath the surface like a shark to strike

When Destiny took the job she thought her past experiences as a sole practitioner had steeled her for anything. She started to worry when she found out that the entire support staff was on anti-depressants. Then she learned that both the office manager and the senior secretary had been in psychiatric hospitals when she came on board. Next she'd over heard a file clerk telling a paralegal that she thought they should put Prozac in the water cooler. There was a also quiet rumor going around that a young associate that had completely disappeared several years ago. She had never asked for the details, dismissing it as office myth.

Stephen's obscene proposition had nearly sent her over the edge into despair. She still had nightmares about the firm. This morning's dream had been mild compared to earlier versions.

Destiny's alarm clock brought her out of her sorry reminiscence.

So what is on the agenda today? Ah! I remember. Juvenile pick up. The thought cheered Destiny up considerably. She still got a kick out of talking to teenagers. Sometimes she thought she related to the average teenager better than to most adults she knew. Maybe that's because I never really let go of my teenage angst, Destiny thought ruefully.

Destiny had suffered from teenage depression, borderline Bulimia and had tried more types of drugs by the time she reached age 17 than most of the teenagers today had ever even heard of. But the drugs had interfered with her concentration at school, and had made her easy prey to teenage male predators. Like most lessons, Destiny had learned the hard way, and moved on.

Destiny climbed out of bed, shrugged into her filmy bathrobe and shuffled off to her office. She logged on to her computer and called up her daily calendar. Yes. She was scheduled to pick up new juvenile delinquency cases in Courtroom 10 that morning.

Destiny headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Great. Stale pop tarts and diet soda again. So much for Ti Chi and orange juice. Sometimes I think I'd be in better shape if I stayed asleep. At least I get through some workouts in my dreams.

Top Cat slipped between her legs and tried to jump into the refrigerator just as she was closing the door. "I guess you haven't been fed yet. Why don't you get a job?" Destiny teased. "MEEE? Top Cat replied, indignantly. "Yes you. You only love me when you're hungry Mr. puss," Destiny accused as she scooped smelly cat tuna into Top Cat's china dish. "And remember, Top Cat, only you get china."

"Meow." Top Cat thanked her prettily. He pulled the tuna off of the plate and onto the clean floor, before beginning his repast. "You get to mop the floor next time, you slob," Destiny chided. Top Cat stuck his nose into the air and headed into the litter box. When he finished he demanded "MEOUT."

"Good riddance you little food processor," Destiny laughed as she opened the back door for His Honor.

Destiny went to the sink and filled a large pitcher with water. She set about watering the plants in her living room and office. She sang to them as she worked. She loved Beatles music and was convinced her plants looked better after a drink and a few lines of a Lennon/McCartny tune. Having nurtured her dependents, Destiny began her morning ablutions.

I swear I already did this once morning, Destiny thought as she stepped into the shower. She shower quickly. When she grabbed her towel she realized it was already wet. Weird, Destiny thought. Very weird." Her toothbrush was wet as well. "I just have to get the taste of sangria out of my mouth," she said to herself as she brushed her teeth. In went the contact lenses. She blew her hair dry and stuck it in a pony tail high on top of her head. She forwent makeup as it was getting late.

Destiny dressed carefully in a plum colored crushed silk suit. The jacket had short sleeves and was well tailored. She liked it because it gave her enough shape that she didn't need a bra in the summer heat. Her breasts were medium sized and well rounded. She was convinced they stayed pert primarily because she rarely wore a bra and kept herself in pretty good shape. She thought that women who bought into the "wonder bra" craze were suckers.

The skirt to Destiny's suit ended just above her knees and showed off her long, well muscled legs. Destiny hadn't had a chance to work on a tan yet this year so she grudgingly opted for nude panty hose. The things we do for men, she grumbled as she put them on. She added a pair of white athletic socks and donned her trusty white Rebocks. She was ready to hit the street.

And as for my dream, Destiny thought, I still have time to record my island fantasy. Destiny returned to her bedroom and pulled out her recorder. She pushed play and set about describing her dream in as much detail as possible. If only I could just close my eyes and go back there, Destiny thought. But if I do that, God knows where I'll end up. Maybe back in the marsh with the serial killer, she shuddered. Or worse. Remember the amusement park dream? That's where I first encountered the killer. I never want to go there again. Wait a second, Destiny thought. I really am losing it. When is my next appointment with Dr. Phaeton? As if I could blink and walk into a whole different world!

But then again, isn't that exactly what I used to do in my dreams when I was little. I remember having nightmares and thinking, "this is a nightmare, if I open my eyes, it will end and I will be safe in my bed." And it worked. I used to do that a lot, Destiny though, deeply troubled.

Destiny finished recording her story and popped the tape out of the machine. "What the fuck!!" Destiny exploded. There in her very own hand writing was a label reading DL Dream 1, 6/30/05 Dream 2, 6/30/05. This can't be happening, Destiny thought in panic. I've never taped before. I've only dreamed of taping. I was dreaming all night. None of those things happened.

Or did they?

Shit! It's 8:15. I have to get to Court. I'll get to the bottom of this tonight. Meanwhile, I'd better label this dream. So Destiny marked DL Dream 3, 6/30/05, on the label, popped the tape back into the recorder, grabbed her keys and her brief case and headed for the door.

At least I have time to walk today, Destiny thought. Oh hell, I forgot my dress shoes. Again. Oh well, the Court will just have to live with my tennis shoes today. Again. How many years have I been fighting this battle anyway? As if women can only think, or act intelligently with their heels stuck up on four inch spikes. Damn it, I think better when my feet don't hurt.

Moreover, Destiny though, on a roll now, with four inches added to my height I tower over half of the Napoleon sized male prosecutors in the Courthouse. Boy does that ever add to their complexes. And finally, any woman who walks more than three steps a day wears out her high heels in a week. It's a plot, Destiny decided, fabricated by short, male shoe makers, to subjugate women by crippling and impoverishing them while gazing lustfully at their legs and buttocks.

And if that, Destiny thought, with a laugh, is the worst thing a professional female has to worry about on her way to scrape out a living, life can't be so bad after all.

It was a lovely, fresh summer morning. Destiny finished her walk with a smile and entered the Courthouse feeling better than she had in quite a while.

She passed through the metal detector at the front door and joked with the US Marshall for a minute. He was the one who had arrested a witness of hers last month for trying to bring a six inch hunting knife into the Courthouse. The witness was supposed to have been testifying to exonerate her client on an assault with a dangerous weapon - knife, that day. "So the witness just thought he'd show the judge that his pal, my client, couldn't have had the knife since it was with him all along. See Judge, here it is. Duh," Destiny quipped. "Too bad I couldn't handle that case as well. Slight conflict of interest."

Destiny headed down to the basement of the Courthouse where the Criminal Justice Act office was located. It was 9:00 o'clock. Time to check in and see if there were any new juvenile cases. Nothing so far. Pickings were getting slimmer and slimmer these days. Crime was down and many youthful offenders were being diverted out of the juvenile system on first offenses. And of course, there was the over abundance of lawyers.

Destiny was a victim of the baby boom. She was born at the tail end of the biggest baby boom in history. Her elementary school was way over crowded. Her high school was a disaster area. It was a pitched battle to get a scholarship to a decent university. When she decided to go into psychology in her third year of college, half of her class was seeking masters fellowships in psychology.

So she had what she thought was an original idea. She'd go to law school. Brilliant. Everyone and their little brother decided to go to law school just when she did.

Worse yet, she decided to go to law school in the city that had the highest per capita number of lawyers and the largest growing number of law students in the world. Washington, DC. But Destiny persevered. She made it through on hard work, odd jobs and student loans. When she got out of law school she still wasn't thinking straight. She stayed in D.C. and took the D.C. Bar Exam along with thousands of other budding barristers. All were in the same boat. Newly licensed, inexperienced and set loose on a thoroughly glutted market.

But the District did have something to offer Destiny: An opportunity to work in her area of interest - juvenile defense. So Destiny gritted her teeth and jumped into the fray of attorneys practicing in D.C. Superior Court.

And here she was, more years later than she would like to admit, still slugging away at the cases tossed at her on pick up days like today.

Destiny checked out the notices on the bulletin board in the Lawyers Lounge and then headed into the cafeteria for more diet soda. In her father's day it was coffee. Destiny remembered how her father used to drink cup after cup of coffee. She always wondered how he could drink all that caffeine and still sleep at night. Now here I am, thirty years later, she thought wryly, guzzling down four or five liters of caffeinated diet soda a day. I take sleeping pills with diet soda for Christ's sake! The inside of my mouth only sees tap water when I brush my teeth. What must the inside of my stomach look like by now?

She got her Diet Pepsi , grabbed a table with a view of the door nearest to the CJA office, and steeled herself for a half hour wait to find out if there were any cases today. If only I were more organized, Destiny thought, I'd be spending this time on something billable. Or at least on accounting matters. Instead its more dead time, she grumbled to herself for a minute. Then she settled in with an easy-to-read paper back novel she kept in her purse for emergencies. Before she knew it she was lost in a turn of the century, foggy London murder mystery.