Until the Stars Fall From the Sky Read online

  I have heard enough about the case to know what was coming. I have seen bad things in my days as a lifeguard and I have read case after case about the depraved nature of the human heart in law school, but to meet the evidence in the form of a scarred, toothless, defenseless six year old is crushing. I am saved from having to comment when Kiera looks at Mindy’s hand closely.

  “Where is your pressure bandage, Mindy?” Kiera queries, looking concerned.

  Mindy shrugs and says, “Mama lost it. She said I didn’t need one ‘cause it was too much money to spend on one brat. So, I put Dora the Explorer Band-Aids on it to make it better.”

  They are just words, but I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. Kiera wasn’t kidding; this is a whole different level of ugly. I am familiar with ugly. My stepfather had the concept down to an art form. Although physical abuse wasn’t my stepfather’s weapon of choice against me, he could wield his tongue like a scalpel and verbally eviscerate all of us. To this day, my mother lives in fear that she might anger him, cook him an unpleasing meal or dress the wrong way.

  Nonetheless, as a dentist, he is all about appearances. At least to the outside world, we were all well taken care of, and our medical needs were met. It seems that, in Mindy’s life, no one is meeting her physical or emotional needs. I would not ever claim to be the most macho dude on the planet, but what I’d like to do right now is find a nice quiet corner and have a good cry. Granted, I’d also like to go a few rounds with a punching bag, preferably one that resembles her family members. As I’m trying to collect my thoughts, I feel Mindy tugging on the leg of my jeans.

  “Hey Mister, how’s come you look brown like chocolate milk? Did you get burned like me?” Mindy asks as she examines me closely. I feel like a museum exhibit.

  I look over at Kiera and she is trying to smother a grin. She shrugs and shoots me a glance that I interpret loosely as Welcome to my world. She’s a kid. What are you going to do?

  I squat down to Mindy’s level and stick out my hand for her to shake. “Hi, Mindy,” I say, introducing myself, “I’m Jeff, Kiera’s friend.”

  Mindy touches the tips of my fingers with hers gingerly as she declares, “Hi Jeff, I’m Mindy and the noisy baby is my sister, Rebecca Sue. But, I just call her Becca.

  “It’s nice to meet you Mindy. Did you know that the thing that gives your skin color is called melanin,” I explain. “My skin has more of it than yours, that’s why I look brown. It’s the same thing that causes your freckles. It has something to do with who is in your family. My daddy and grandparents were African-American. Some people call us black. It wasn’t caused by a burn. I’m really sorry that someone hurt you.”

  Mindy starts to chew on her thumb and her brow furrows as she clarifies, “So, you won’t leak hot chocolate if you get an owie? Does that mean you’re a pimp? My Nana says all black peoples are pimps.”

  I am stunned into silence for just a moment. It is rare these days for me to come face-to-face with blatant racism, and it’s profoundly sad for me to see it parroted by a child.

  I chuckle a bit before I answer, “No, but it would be really cool if I could leak hot chocolate because the sight of blood makes me a little queasy. Not every black person has the same job, just like white people have different jobs. Some people are teachers, and some people are firefighters. People like Kiera help little kids, and I’m going to school so that I can help put the bad guys in prison. Sure, there are some black people that make some bad decisions to commit crimes, do drugs or be pimps, but there are white people that make those same choices.”

  “Like my mama and daddy?” Mindy asks, completely fascinated by the idea.

  I am so far out of my depth that I’m not sure where to go next. I look to Kiera for guidance. She smiles at me and nods.

  “Well, I don’t really know your mom and dad well enough to answer that question, but — “

  I try to hedge.

  Mindy interrupts me and confides, “My daddy is in prison, and my mama had to go to courp because she drove her car when she was drinking beer.”

  “Hmm, it sounds like they’ve made some bad decisions, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re bad people. People come in all kinds of shapes and sizes and make all sorts of choices about their lives. Some are healthier than others,” I explain.

  “If they’re not bad people, why did they have to go to jail?” Mindy questions, trying to make sense of this very abstract topic.

  “We put people in jail to teach them to make better decisions and to keep everyone safe from the bad guys. For example, maybe now that your mom knows she might go to jail, she won’t drive a car after she drinks beer.”

  “You mean it’s like a timeout?” Mindy asks. “We have those in school.”

  “I suppose it’s a lot like a timeout,” I respond, relieved to have brought this part of the conversation to an end. I never thought I’d be talking about penal philosophy with a six year old. What seems like a cut and dried debate over punishment versus rehabilitation looks a bit different when you’re staring at the collateral damage.

  Kiera takes pity on me and intercedes, “Come on kiddo, you and I need to talk to Detective Edwards and see if we can help him find the guy that tried to kiss you. Nice use of your safety training, Mindy Mouse. The Girlfriend Posse needs to take lessons from you.”

  Mindy giggles as she boasts, “Yeah, I stomp-ted on the marshmallow part of his foot just like they said. I couldn’t poke him in the eye though, ‘cause I had to hold on to Becca.”

  “Still, you did a great job,” Kiera reassures her. “I’m sure when we find him, he’ll have a limp.”

  “Wait, Miss Kiera!” Mindy runs back to hug my legs and in a stage whisper she requests, “Mr. Jeff, when you make my hair fancy, will you use a tiara like Princess Barbie?”

  “If that’s what you want, Princess,” I answer with a smile. If I could give this kid the moon, I would, just to see that crooked toothless grin.

  After Kiera and Mindy leave to go into the break room with the officer, I sink down into a vintage shoeshine chair in the corner of the store. My heart is beating like I’ve just run a marathon. Emotionally, I feel like I’ve just gone 12 rounds with Mike Tyson. I can’t believe that the whole conversation took less than 15 minutes. I’m replaying every word in my head wondering if I should have handled things differently. How does Kiera handle this all day long?

  I am startled out of my deep thoughts when a store employee offers me coffee. “I’m thinking you could use this, young man,” she says, chewing her gum loudly. “I got grandkids of my own, but I ain’t never seen the likes of that.”

  “Me neither ma’am,” I agree. Becca is still crying, her breath coming in deep, hysterical gasps now. “Mind if I try?” I ask, nodding my head at Becca.

  “Shoot no! Be my guest, this lil’ one’s about to burst my eardrums,” she answers, looking relieved.

  I took the squirming bundle from the employee. The first thing I notice is that her diaper seems to weigh more than she does. “Do you have any diapers? I ask.

  “Oh shoot! In all the ruckus, I didn’t think of that. Let me get some for ya,” she exclaims as she disappears down the aisle.

  I go into the bathroom and wash my hands after I strap Becca to the changing table. I took her diaper off and I’m alarmed to see her skin red and blistered. I freeze from the blinding rage that courses through my body. Who would allow their baby to be in that much pain and not lift a finger to help?

  “Here ya go, I brought newborns because she don’t look much bigger than ten pounds to me,” the employee proclaims.

  “Miss — ?” I wait for her to respond.

  “Margret Ann. But, you can call me Marge,” she answers earnestly.

  “Marge, I need you to make a video of this in case Kiera needs it for her case, okay?” I explain, digging my phone out of my pocket.

  “Oh good, that’s the model my daughter has. So, I can work it just fine,” Margret responds, putting on
her reading glasses.

  “Marge, can you grab me a small tube of Monistat and a tube of diaper cream?” I ask, opening the package of diapers. “If you have any onesies that would be great.”

  “I’ll be back in a jiffy” she answers, sprinting from the bathroom. True to her word, she returns quickly. She lays the stuff out like a skilled triage nurse and sets the camera up. She gasps as she sees the area under the diaper, “Good lord! That poor child!” she exclaims.

  I start to gently clean Becca up, but her skin is so raw that even the air touching the area is painful. “Marge, I need you to get a close up of this rash for me, please.” I request, trying to keep my voice level.

  “Is that blood and pus?” she asks, her voice disbelieving. “How hard is it to change a damn diaper?”

  “I d-don’t k-know m-m-ma’am,” my stutter reappearing for the first time in years, revealing my extreme stress, “I d-d-don’t th-th-think there are any answers w-w-we are going to find acceptable.”

  I mix the ointments together and apply them to Becca’s poor bottom. I finish changing Becca and carry her back into the store. She is still crying, although with less conviction than before. I start a waltz type movement with her and it seems to soothe her. When I begin to hum under my breath, Becca calms even more. I guess the silver lining is that this little princess is too young to remember this horrific day.

  Becca finally settles, a weary sigh passing through her lips. I sit down and pat her back. About an hour later, Mindy comes bounding into the room. “Look Miss Kiera! Mr. Jeff must be like an angel,” she remarks with awe.

  Kiera shoots me a meaningful look, “You’re not going to get an argument from me. But, why do you think so, Mindy?”

  “’Cause he performed a miracle, just like in church. Becca’s asleep! Becca don’t sleep for nobody. My grandma says she’s possessed by the devil and nobody’s allowed to touch her.” Mindy stands on her tiptoes to whisper in Kiera’s ear, “I do it anyway, ‘cause I think Nana’s crazy. Babies can’t be bad. That’s jus’ silly. They jus’ eat and poop.”

  Kiera puts her arm around Mindy’s frail shoulders. “You’re one smart chick, Girlfriend.”

  An EMT approaches as he dons gloves and rearranges his stethoscope. “I understand I may have overlooked a patient over here,” he observes in a perky voice.

  Instantly, both Kiera and Mindy spear me with glances that would have wounded a lesser man. “In my professional opinion, Becca’s diaper rash looks infected. Since they were on the call anyway, they said they’d check it out,” I explain. As my chest rumbles with the sound of my speech, Becca stirs, her cheek sweaty and her bottom lip pops out.

  “Miss Kiera, Becca has owies on her girl parts and they bleeded. I tried to fix it with Dora Band-Aids, but they didn’ work,” Mindy added.

  “Mindy, who changes Becca’s diaper at home?” Kiera inquires gently.

  Mindy scrunches up her face in concentration as she guardedly explains, “Me, mostly. Except when we have company, I’m not ‘upposed to when people are around. I was doin’ a real good job too. Just like on TB, until Nana got mad at me for usin’ too many. Then, I couldn’t do it no more ‘cause she tooked the diapers away.” Mindy leaned toward me as she confided, “Becca get’s really stinky. So, I tried using paper towels, but they leak.”

  I swallow hard before I answer, “Mindy, you are an awesome big sister. You did everything you could.” I reached out and gave her a small half hug. I have to turn away to hide the tears that are forming in my eyes.

  ~*~

  As we drive to the hospital to meet the girls, Kiera is shredding the fast food napkin in her lap. She barely touches her food. “Pip, babe, please try to drink your smoothie. It’s going to be a long day,” I gently prompt.

  Kiera looks startled by my presence as she articulates her thoughts, “I’m sorry. You’re right; I should, but I can’t right now. I keep running the file in my head. Is there something I should have said that I didn’t? Last I heard, her plan didn’t call for reunification because of her complex medical needs. I would have never supported that given Mindy’s medical needs. The grandmother is just toxic, and I didn’t have enough information about the mother to make a recommendation. They needed to do a thorough home study. We have to figure out where the ball got dropped and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Kiera, I’m sure that all of that will be done, but not today. Today, there is a cute little girl with freckles that needs you to be her hero.” I say as I kiss the back of our interlaced fingers.

  “But I — ,” Kiera protests.

  I interrupt her protests, “Pip, obviously I don’t know all of the background in this case, but I can see some things that have gone very well; most of them can be traced directly to you. You developed an incredible rapport with a child that had no reason to trust adults. That bond likely saved her life today. You empowered her with safety skills that allowed her to rescue her sister. While we may quibble with her methods, she tried very hard to think it through and keep it together.”

  “I should have done more,” Kiera cries. “I could have done more if I had known.” Fat tears are rolling down her face and she is trembling.

  “Pip,” I reply gently, “I’d venture to guess that virtually every adult in those babies’ lives should have done more. Unfortunately, we can’t rewrite history. However, I know you and I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe now that you are aware of the situation. You have to be okay with that, or your job is going to eat you alive.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she concedes, “but it’s hard not to feel responsible. I struggle with the balance all the time.”

  I pull the truck into the hospital drop zone and put it into park. Before I lift Kiera out of the truck, I put my hands on her shoulders and catch her gaze with mine. “Pip, I know we’ve got a crap-load of issues to work through and sort out. I’m by your side and I’m going to be there until.”

  Kiera smiles up at me through her tears as she replies, “I know that too. By your side is exactly where I want to be.”

  ~*~

  I can hear Mindy’s squeals of delight from down the hall. I knock lightly on the door and peek my head around the corner. As soon as she sees me, Mindy shrieks, “Mr. Jeff! Guess what?”

  “What?” I answer, playing along.

  “It’s like magic! The whole bed moves an’ all I have to do is push a button. Isn’t it cool?” Mindy continues, barely taking a moment to breathe, “An’ the nurse said she would bring me as many milkshakes as I want! Can you beliebe it?”

  “Wow! That is exciting news,” I confirm. “Are you having lunch next?”

  “No,” Mindy pouts, “The nurse said I hafta to take a shower first.”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” I say as if we’re involved in the heist of a Candy Land board, “you go do whatever it takes to make princesses beautiful these days, and I’ll be back with a surprise later. No princesses with smelly feet allowed.”

  “You promise?” Mindy asks skeptically. “You’re not jus’ trickin’?”

  “I promise,” I reply, shaking her hand and ending with a pinky swear.

  As the nurse takes Mindy off to the shower room, I rush off to find Kiera. When I finally locate her, she is sitting in a dark corner of the nursery gently rocking Becca and watching her sleep. “It’s a miracle what a little hot soap and water and a warm meal can do. I wish she didn’t have to use formula. It’s so much better for her immune system if she doesn’t,” she whispers, taking care not to wake the softly snoring baby.

  Unbidden, my mind conjures up an image of Kiera on my grandma’s back porch nursing a pudgy baby in the old worn rocker. It’s a more appealing thought than I ever imagined

  “What are you smiling about, PC?” Kiera asks when she spots me watching her.

  “I’m just thinking how naturally this all comes to you,” I blurt, suddenly embarrassed by the direction of my thoughts.

  “Funny,” Kiera remarks as she grins up at m
e, “I was just thinking the same thing about you as I watched you with the girls earlier. You didn’t seem fazed by any of it.”

  I laugh softly as I respond, “Oh, I was terrified. I just learned from having Gabriel that it’s important for them to never see you sweat. Speaking of that, I have to go run some errands for a certain princess we know.”

  “I’ll be up in a few minutes,” Kiera says, trying to stretch her back out, “I know I don’t want to miss this.”

  When I return to Mindy’s room, she is sitting up in bed watching cartoons. “Sponge Bob is so stupid,” she mutters, “Everybody knows you can’t talk underwater. Besides, that all the fishes talk in different languages.”

  “Very good point, Mindy,” I allow, “I’ve never thought about it that way.” My tone must have been too patronizing, as the little imp rolls her eyes at me. Oh yes, I’ve gone toe to toe with the best legal minds in the nation, and I’ve just been schooled by a six year old.

  “Hey Mindy,” I ask, trying to recover from my faux pas, “would you pop this into the DVD player for me?”

  Mindy snatches the movie from me and examines it thoroughly. She sets it back down very gently. “Mr. Jeff, it’s a princess movie,” she remarks softly, her voice barely a whisper.

  “I know, Sweetheart, that’s why I picked it for you,” I explain, but I’m baffled by her reaction. Gabriel loves to get presents. At her age, he would have been so excited that he would have been jumping off of the furniture.

  “I love princess movies! But, it’s new,” she states simply as if the explanation is clear. “I’m ebil. Nana said ebil girls don’t get new toys, ever.”

  “Well, your Nana was wrong. You are not evil. You never have been evil. Even if you were, I’m giving you this because I think you deserve it for being so brave,” I state emphatically.

  “So, it’s mine always, and I don’t have to gibe it back to the liberry?” Mindy asks, her eyes full of hope, but her expression is doubtful.

  “No, sweetheart, it’s yours to keep forever,” I respond with a reassuring smile.