Jimmy (29 page)

“Daddy doesn't send me to the courthouse. I stay at his office and work.”

“No, I mean the court hearing with your birth mother.”

Jimmy stopped pushing his bike. Max kept going a few feet, then glanced back.

“Uh-oh,” Max said, turning his bike around so he faced Jimmy. “My mom told me about the hearing before the school year ended. I thought you knew about it.”

Jimmy swallowed. “What is a hearing?”

Max shook his head. “Your parents should explain it to you, especially since your daddy is a lawyer.”

“No. I want you to tell me. Mama starts to cry when anyone says anything about my birth mama, and Daddy doesn't want to upset her.”

Max pushed his bike closer. “All I know is that your birth mother wants to spend time with you, but my mom says she didn't care about seeing you for a long time, and it wouldn't be right for her to change her mind now. My dad told me it also has to do with her not buying presents for you on your birthday and at Christmas. There will be a hearing at the courthouse next week in front of a judge who will decide if you have to visit your birth mother or not. My mother is going to be one of the witnesses.”

“Does she know my birth mama?”

“A little bit, but I think she is going to tell the judge what good friends we are and that it wouldn't be right for us not to see one another.”

“Why wouldn't I see you?” Jimmy asked in alarm.

“Because your birth mother wants you to live part of the time with her in Atlanta. My dad says no judge in the world would make that happen. He's not a lawyer, but he's smart about lots of stuff.”

“Are you going to be at the hearing?”

“No, I don't think so.”

“Why not?”

“I haven't been invited.”

“Well, I want you to come.”

“Listen, Jimmy. I'm sorry I brought this up. It's your birthday, and I don't want to ruin it. Everything is going to be all right.”

A man exited the courthouse and walked down the sidewalk toward them. It was Mr. Long. He saw Jimmy and smiled.

“Happy birthday!” he called out as he came closer to them. “How does it feel to be fourteen?”

“Okay,” Jimmy replied.

“What's wrong?” Mr. Long asked.

Jimmy didn't respond, and the man turned to Max.

“You're Max Cochran, aren't you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I'm a lawyer helping Jimmy's father. Your mother showed me a picture of you and Jimmy taken at your house. I think you were standing in front of a small barn.”

“Yes, sir. That's the day Jimmy came over and helped me rake leaves. We worked most of the day and finished a lot quicker than if I'd been doing it alone. Jimmy is like a machine with a rake. He almost never takes a break.”

Mr. Long smiled at Jimmy. “If you like to rake leaves so much, I'd like to invite you to my house in the fall.”

Jimmy stared at the sidewalk. “Yes, sir.”

“I just told Jimmy about the hearing,” Max said. “I don't think he knew about it.”

Mr. Long nodded his head to a concrete bench in front of the courthouse.

“Come over here,” he said to the two boys.

They leaned their bicycles against the end of the bench. Mr. Long sat down. Jimmy and Max stood before him.

“Jimmy, I'm going to meet with you and your parents tomorrow and talk to you about the hearing. We thought it would be better to let you enjoy your birthday without thinking about anything else. Can you forget about the hearing for now?”

Jimmy stuck out his lower lip. “No, sir. I want to stay with Mama, Daddy, Grandpa, Buster, and Max.”

“And that's exactly what you're going to tell the judge. Now that you're fourteen, the judge has to pay attention to what you think should happen about visitation and custody. He'll also listen to your parents and the other witnesses we'll have in court.”

“Visitation and custody?” Jimmy asked.

“Visiting your birth mother and spending a lot of time with her at her house. Your birth mother wants the judge to make your parents let her see you.”

“Judge Robinson goes to our church,” Max said. “He'll do what Mr. Mitchell wants him—”

Mr. Long interrupted. “Judge Robinson won't be deciding the case. There will be a visiting judge from Harrelson County. But no more talk about the hearing. This is Jimmy's special day. You boys finish your bike ride. Jimmy, I'll see you tomorrow.”

Mr. Long got up and continued down the street. Max spoke.

“Jimmy, everything is going to be okay. My dad told me you don't have anything to worry about.”

Max's father was an expert shot with both a pistol and a rifle and could fix a lawn mower engine that wouldn't start.

“What exactly did he say?”

“That your parents are in the right, and your birth mother is in the wrong. You'll have to come to the courthouse for the hearing, but nothing is going to change. All that talk about visitation and custody is just a bunch of lawyer talk that won't amount to anything.”

Jimmy nodded. “I want to be nice to my birth mama, but I don't want to go to a strange place and not see my family or you.”

“My dad says that won't happen. The judge is going to throw it out of court.”

“I hope he doesn't throw it at me.”

Max laughed.

“Do you want to ride over to your daddy's office?” he asked. “We could show him how far we've ridden our bikes today.”

“No, I want to go home. I don't want to miss my party.”

“Don't worry about that either. The party can't start without you. You're the birthday boy.”

They went back the way they'd come. Jimmy honked his horn, but with less gusto, at all stop signs and traffic lights. He couldn't figure out how he should feel about his birth mama. He was fascinated by the five pictures he kept in his desk, but his curiosity didn't make him want to leave home to spend time with someone he didn't know. And, of course, he didn't want people to fight over him.

The two boys turned into Jimmy's driveway behind a brown UPS truck. The driver stepped from the vehicle. Jimmy recognized the man as a member of the First Baptist Church.

“Just the person I need to see,” the driver said as Jimmy and Max stopped beside him on their bikes.

The man handed Jimmy a long, narrow box.

“This has your name on it.”

Jimmy read
James Lee Mitchell III
, followed by his address.

“I bet it's a birthday present,” Max said.

Jimmy thanked the driver and took the box. He and Max carried it to the front porch and sat on the steps.

“Open it,” Max said.

“Not until after we eat the cake.”

“Don't worry. It will be wrapped on the inside.”

Jimmy hesitated. Max took the box from him and turned it so he could read the label.

“Who is Mrs. Lonnie Horton?” he asked. “Is she one of your relatives?”

“I don't know. Let's go ask Mama.”

Mama was not in the kitchen. Max leaned the box against the kitchen counter. While the boys were drinking water, Mama came into the room.

“How was the bike ride?” she asked.

“Fine,” Max replied before Jimmy could answer. “Jimmy stayed right with me, and we didn't have any problems with traffic. He must have honked the horn on his bike at least thirty or forty times. We went all the way to the courthouse before we turned around.”

“Who did you see downtown?”

“Lots of people,” Max said.

“I guess you know most everybody,” Mama said with a smile.

“Yes, ma'am.” Max picked up the long, narrow box. “But I don't know Mrs. Lonnie Horton. Is she one of Jimmy's out-of-town relatives?”

The smile on Mama's face vanished. She jerked the box from Max and examined the label.

“Where did this come from?” she asked sharply.

“We followed the UPS driver up to the house, and he gave it to us,” Max replied. “Isn't it a birthday present for Jimmy?”

“If it is, he doesn't want it.”

“Why not?” Jimmy asked. “It might be a BB gun. It feels about the same weight as the one Max has at his house. The last time I spent the night with him, he showed me how to shoot it, and I hit a can sitting on a fence.”

“We're careful, Mrs. Mitchell,” Max began. “My dad taught me all about gun safety, and Jimmy follows the rules—”

“You're not going to open this box no matter what it is,” Mama interrupted. “You don't want any gifts from Mrs. Horton.”

Recognition flashed across Max's face. “Is it from Jimmy's birth mother?” he blurted out.

“Yes,” Mama replied curtly. “And this is no time to start accepting gifts from her. I'll call UPS and have it sent back.”

Jimmy, fascinated by the possibility of a BB gun, eyed the brown box.

“Could we find out what it is? It has my name on it.”

“No!” Mama answered with such force that Jimmy stepped back. “This is not a true gift. It's something she's doing to help her case in court.”

“Max told me about the hearing,” Jimmy said.

Mama stared hard at Max.

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Mitchell,” Max said, looking at his shoes. “I didn't realize that you hadn't told Jimmy about it and opened my big mouth when we got to the courthouse. Then Mr. Long came up and explained some stuff to us. He didn't seem worried.”

“He didn't?” Mama asked.

“Uh, he seemed confident.”

“I hope he's not overconfident,” Mama replied. “You boys go into the backyard and play with Buster. He's been barking since you left on your bike ride.”

Jimmy eyed the box. “It might be a BB gun.”

Mama gave him a fierce look. Jimmy fled from the kitchen with Max close behind him.

J
IMMY AND
M
AX TOSSED A FOOT BALL BACK AND FORTH WITH
Buster playing the role of defensive player. Max could throw a perfect spiral that landed softly in Jimmy's arms. Jimmy's passes were much less predictable; however, Max enjoyed diving for the ball and pretending that he was stretching for the goal line. Buster would jump on Max's head or back to tackle him.

Daddy got home and started a fire in the grill. At Jimmy's request, hamburgers and hot dogs were the birthday menu. Jimmy wanted to ask Daddy about the package from his birth mama but wasn't sure how to bring it up. Max went inside to go to the bathroom. When he returned, he came up close to Jimmy.

“Your parents are talking about the gift from your birth mother,” he said.

“What are they saying?”

“Oh, they're talking about why she sent it and deciding when to send it back. It's not complicated, but parents have to make a big deal out of stuff. They'll talk for hours about something that should be over in thirty seconds.”

“Wasn't it nice of her to send me a birthday present?” Jimmy asked.

“I thought you didn't want to see her or spend the night at her house. Now you're saying she's nice. What's going on with you?”

“People don't send birthday presents unless they like you.”

“But she's never sent you a Christmas or birthday gift before.”

Jimmy paused. “Maybe she did.”

“No way,” Max scoffed. “Your mama is right. Your birth mother just wants to make herself look good in front of the judge at the hearing. If your parents return the gift, she can't claim that she's done anything nice for you. My mom says it's not right for a parent to abandon a child and then come back years later and try to
get involved.”

Jimmy shook his head. “I wish I was smarter.”

“You're plenty smart about the things that matter,” Max answered. “Go out for another pass. I'll throw it close to the tree beside the garden.”

G
RANDPA AND
G
RANDMA ARRIVED AS
D
ADDY TOOK THE
hamburgers and hot dogs off the grill. Jimmy stacked their two gifts carefully beside Max's present. The package from his birth mama was nowhere in sight. They ate supper in the sunroom that was shaded by trees in the late afternoon and cooled by the house's air-conditioning system. While they ate, Grandpa answered Max's questions about pole climbing. The subject of the missing gift didn't come up.

Mama had baked a chocolate cake with white icing, Jimmy's favorite cake. On top, she'd written, “Happy Birthday, Jimmy,” and beneath his name drawn a crude picture of a boy and a dog.

“That's me and Buster,” Jimmy said.

“I'm glad you can tell,” Mama said. “I'm not as talented as Aunt Jill.”

Walt's family hadn't been invited to the party this year.

After devouring a healthy slab of cake, he opened his presents—a soccer ball from Max, a shirt from Grandma, a tackle box from Grandpa, a retractable leash from Buster, a backpack with his initials on it from Mama, and a new University of Georgia cap from Daddy.

That night Mama fixed a soft mat on the floor for Max. After she left the room, Jimmy took out the pictures of Vera and showed them to Max.

“Where did you get these?” Max asked.

“Mama gave me these three, and I borrowed the other two from Walt.”

Max studied the faces in the light. “You can tell from her face that she's your birth mother.”

“What do you think about her now?” Jimmy asked.

Max looked up at Jimmy. “You want to meet her, don't you?”

“I'm not sure.”

After they turned off the lights and lay down, Jimmy stared at the ceiling. It was made of hundreds of tiny, thin boards. A full moon cast a pale light into the room.

“Max,” he whispered, “are you awake?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think about me climbing the pole?”

“I think it's awesome,” Max said.

“What does that mean?”

“That you're a great pole climber.”