The adrenalin rush I felt at Dylan’s defiance in the courtroom soon burnt itself out, leaving me drained. I collapsed into the chair next to Shira who put her arm around me and stroked my shoulder with her left hand.
I watched Dylan’s lawyer, Artie Chin, walk with him to the holding pen, pat Dylan on the back, and turn around, heading back toward the defense table where he picked up his briefcase. The wiry prosecutor motioned with his hand to meet with him for a conference. Artie walked over to the prosecutor’s table. The two talked for a couple of minutes with Artie nodding his head at the end. Then Artie walked toward us.
“You must be Jane,” Artie said, offering his hand. “I’m Artie Chin, the lawyer Jacob called to represent Dylan.”
I shook his hand. “Thanks for helping my husband.”
“Let’s go out into the hallway and talk.”
J.C., Shira, and I followed Artie out of the courtroom, through the walnut paneled doors, and out into the almost empty hallway. He waved for us to follow him to an alcove with two wooden benches abutting each other. He sat down and patted the seat next to him. I sat down while J.C. and Shira seated themselves on the other bench.
“The prosecutor wants to settle the case right away. So, all Dylan has to do is offer some type of apology, even a feeble one, and the charges will be dropped. Dylan would be released almost immediately. What do you think?” Chin asked, his dark eyes revealing little of what he really thought.
I reached down with my left hand, smoothing my yellow dress, which allowed me to ponder his words for a few seconds.
“I know my husband,” I said, shaking my head. “He will never agree to watering down the gospel by being ashamed of speaking the good news to others.”
“I figured that might be the case, but you need to hear the rest of the story. The prosecutor stated that if Dylan refused to apologize, the City Attorney’s office was willing to go after your husband with an all-out effort, which could result in Dylan spending time in prison. It might even end up being appealed to the California Supreme Court or the U.S. Supreme Court. All of this may take months or years.”
My hands rushed to my mouth.
Artie nodded. “Justice moves slowly and will not take into account Dylan’s age.”
“Well, I’m going with what Dylan decides to do. So, when will I be able to see him or talk with him on the phone?”
Artie blew out a deep breath.
“I will be able to meet with him tomorrow morning. He can call you tomorrow afternoon, but you won’t be able to meet him until Saturday and then again on Sunday.”
“Okay, until then I will seek the Lord on what we should do.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will be praying also.”
Artie gave me a hug, stood up, and walked away. His footsteps echoed in the hallway making me feel so alone. What should I do? I wondered.
“Jane, what do you plan on doing next?” asked J.C., snapping me out of my thoughts.
“I don’t have a clue, but I think…it’s time for me to begin a new career, maybe in TV and radio.”
“What?” asked Shira.
I shrugged my shoulders, slapped the bench with both hands and stood up.
“Let’s roll,” I said.
(A new sequel to Unhitched Geeser, which can be checked out here.)
(Continued in Part 12…the full series to date can be read here.)