Hands on the Wheel Ch. 05

As he was driving back down 101, it finally occurred to Ivan that Jeremy seemed to know altogether too much about what was going on with him and Fumiko. He later learned that Sarah had recruited Jeremy to help orchestrate the reunion between the once-star-crossed lovers; his attempts to show irritation at their meddling were met not with contrition, but rollicking disbelief.

When Fumiko and Ichiro returned to Vancouver, Ivan flew up each weekend (they became long weekends, sometimes Thursday afternoon to Tuesday afternoon). In short order they felt like a family, too happy to mourn their lost years. Five months after the Disneyland trip, Ivan asked Fumiko to marry him; she was comfortable enough by that time to respond with a crooked smile and feigned cynicism. "Well duh, what took you so long?" She then destroyed the illusion by leaping into Ivan's arms. "Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!"

Ichiro was drawn by the outburst. Proving that the satsuma doesn't fall far from the tree, he attempted a dry response by declaring he couldn't understand why his mother was acting so excited about something he had known all along was going to happen, then spoiled the effect by rushing over and hugging them both.

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The investigation of Sarah's sexual assault and rape took months. Very few of the men involved were college students, positive identification was difficult; only 3 of the 21 identified participants were students. At first the four men who rented the apartment where it took place—none of whom was a student—said they hadn't been there, claimed they had let some friends use it for a party but had other things to do that night. They were reluctant to name the "friends", but when the police started talking about how many felonies they could be charged with if they continued to stonewall it, their lawyers advised them to name names.

Once a few had been identified, more started talking, each trying to show that they didn't do nearly as much as the others. The interrogators were skilled, however, and once DNA evidence began piling up, plea bargaining began in earnest. It was pointed out that serious felonies would be brought against the ones responsible for the additional drugs found in Sarah's system—she had admitted that she voluntarily took the initial Ecstasy pill—and responsibility could include protecting those who actually provided them; it didn't take long for the others to rat out the three who gave her the drugs.

In the end, there was enough evidence to find all 21 guilty of various degrees of sexual assault or rape if they went to trial, so they told their lawyers get the best deal they could; the 3 who gave her the additional drugs were charged with more felonies, and against the advice of counsel chose to go to trial. Jail sentences ranging from 3 to 12 months were meted out to 12 of the 21, which proved to be less than time served by the 3 who couldn't make bail; the other 9 accepted bargains for sentences from 5 to 11 years in state prison with the possibility of parole. The 3 convicted of additional drug charges were sentenced to 15 years in prison, with no possibility of parole until they had served 10.

Emily Dickinson, Sarah's roommate, fared better. She was in therapy for almost a year, went back to school for two years to get her MSW, then put in the required 3000 hours of supervised counseling and received her LCSW certification. After working with victims of sexual abuse for three years, she founded a non-profit called #luv&care4u that operated a residential treatment center for young women traumatized by violent sexual abuse.

Startup money came from a crowdfunding website she established. The foundation's long-term survival was underwritten by ongoing grants from several major corporations, led by Golkonda; a consortium of private universities; and the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. Fourteen years after Emily founded #luv&care4u, when it had grown to nine treatment centers across the country, with plans underway to open six more, Emily was awarded a $750,000 MacArthur Fellowship.

She never married.

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Ivan and Fumiko decided to be married in Palo Alto; her mother had lapsed into dementia and wasn't able to attend. Jeremy called in some favors and arranged for the wedding to be in the Stanford Memorial Church. Ivan and Fumiko envisioned a small, intimate gathering, but Sarah and Vicki enlisted Jeremy and Ichiro to put the kibosh on that foolish notion.

In a frenzy of planning, social networking, and brazen arm-twisting, the women put together a simple ceremony that included a world-renowned organist, string ensemble, four herald trumpeters, and almost 400 guests from the United States, Canada, and Japan. The frustrated couple threatened retaliation, but were so besotted throughout the ceremony they somehow forgot their threat.

Ivan, with Sarah's full support, successfully insisted on one counter-traditional detail: no alcohol was served at the reception. The caterers laid in case after case of Martinelli's sparkling apple juice, O'Doul's, and a variety of soft drinks—including a sixer of Coke Zero just for the head table.

Despite the dry occasion, the toasts were satisfactorily maudlin (but ribald), the hor d'oeuvres and buffet roundly praised, the occasion joy-filled. The lone nod to frugality was the decision to hire a DJ rather than a band or orchestra. For the traditional first dance, Ivan and Fumiko made no attempt to hide their tears as they danced to their favorite Willie waltz:

At a time when the world,

Seems to be spinnin'

Hopelessly out of control,

There's deceivers and believers

And old in-betweeners,

That seem to have no place to go.

Well, it's the same old song,

It's right and it's wrong,

And livin' is just somethin' that I do.

And with no place to hide,

I looked in your eyes,

And I found myself in you.

I looked to the stars,

Tried all of the bars.

And I've nearly gone up in smoke.

Now my hand's on the wheel,

Of somethin' that's real,

And I feel like I'm goin' home.

And in the shade of an oak,

Down by the river,

Set an old man and a boy,

Settin' sails, spinnin' tales,

And fishin' for whales,

With a lady that they both enjoy.

Well it's the same damn tune,

It's the man in the moon.

It's the way that I feel about you.

And with no place to hide,

I looked in your eyes,

And I found myself in you.

And I looked to the stars,

Tried all of the bars.

And I've nearly gone up in smoke.

Now my hand's on the wheel,

Of somethin' that's real,

And I feel like I'm goin' home.