From: AKulsum@aol.com Date: Mon, 25 Nov 1996 00:43:45 -0500 Message-ID: <961125004344_1285352142@emout17.mail.aol.com> Subject: child 2/10 "Like As a Child" pt. II In spite of his hours of restlessness the night before, Al had still woken up, shaved, and showered before Callie got up. He opted for an all white ensemble for simplicity's sake and was combing his hair when he heard the sound of movement from the other room. "Al?" he heard Callie call. Al smiled slightly to himself and opened the door to see the child sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes. He noted with no small degree of satisfaction that she looked much better than she had the night before. "Morning," he said as cheerfully as he could manage. "How do you feel, Callie?" She looked bashfully up at him. "Hungry," she said in a tiny voice. He grinned. "Well, we'll go off in search of some breakfast in a moment and then I'm going to turn you over to Verbeena while I run some errands, all right?" Callie nodded and Al pulled out a shirt and a pair of shorts he had bought the night before. "Here you go, sweetie. I don't know if they'll fit you, but they're all I've got for the moment. Why don't you get dressed and I'll take you to get some food, okay?" "Yes, sir," she responded. "Al," he corrected gently and winked at her as he left. He was still looking up phone numbers when she emerged, neat and well-groomed for a child of eleven. Al took her to breakfast and they sat together off in a quiet corner away from the bulk of the scientists. The number of people and the rise and fall of conversation about them seemed to bother her and he didn't want to antagonize the situation. "So, Callie," he said casually, as he cut into his french toast. "Tell me about your friends." He didn't really want to go into any painful subjects with her until she felt more comfortable with him, and he certainly didn't want to start anything in public. Her face brightened slightly; he had asked the right question. It certainly evolked the most talkative mood he'd seen her in since he'd brought her here. Her amiable chatter reminded him so much of other children her own age that he was almost able to forget her situation for a while. Almost. The dark marks that stood out on her face served as constant cruel reminders. She was telling him about her best friend in the orphanage when Tina came over. She took one look at Callie and knelt beside her, noting the still-obvious bruises on her face. "Darling, what happened?" she said in anguish. She glared at Al. "Al, what happened to this child?" Callie shrank into her seat and Al grabbed Tina's wrist and pulled her away from Callie. "Tina," he said tightly, "I think you should discuss this with Verbeena first." He looked meaningfully at her and then she nodded and went off in search of the psychiatrist in hopes that she could fill in the holes Al apparantly couldn't. He wondered with a sigh if she knew the meaning of the word "tact". After breakfast, Al followed Callie and Verbeena into Verbeena's office with the intentions of leaving right away. He was turning to go when Callie ran at him and flung her arms around his middle. He gave her a firm hug after his initial surprise and then knelt down to her eye level. "I just need to straighten a few things out. Will you be okay?" "Yes." He noted with a sigh that she was still too scared to talk very much to him, even though she seemed to see him somewhat as a life preserver. He gave her a kiss on her head and went down to his office, hoping to find time later to tap into that cheerful child he had spoken with earlier. The first call on his long list went through and within seconds a scratchy woman's voice spoke from the other end. "Brook Street Orphanage," she said. "Yes, may I please speak with the person in charge down there?" "One moment please." There was a pause and then another voice, soft and silky, picked up. "This is Wendy Price, can I help you?" "I hope so," Al said, leaning back in his chair. "This is _Admiral_ Albert Calavicci and I wanted to inquire about one of the children you have down there." "What can I do to help you, Admiral?" she asked again in the same smooth tone. He grinned. "What can you tell me about Callie Winters?" "Callie?!" He noted the startled yelp in her voice with no small degree of satisfaction. "Why do you want to know about Callie?" "Because I found her last night. She said her father beat her up." "Nonsense." Her reply was tart and defensive. "Mr Winters arrived here last night in a state. He said the child ran off. Probably the girl's involved in a gang or something - I don't know. Comes back a wreck every time she goes off." "And that doesn't strike you as the least bit odd?" Al demanded. "What are you implying?" "I'm not implying anything; I'm coming right out and saying it. This girl is a victim of child abuse," Al spat the words, sick to his stomach from the act of speaking them. "And what I'm calling to find out is why you nozzles haven't done anything about it." "Admiral, I won't beat around the bush with you. Yes, we are aware that there was a strong possibility that the child-" "-Callie!" Al snapped. "She has a name. She's not just another figure for your books." "Callie," Wendy conceded calmly. "As I was saying, there is a possibility that Callie may have been abused, but not by Mr. Winters. That's just absurd. Anyhow, without testimonies, legally speaking, we can't do anything about it." "Won't Callie's testimony count for anything?" "She won't even acknowledge the abuse," she countered. "She told me," Al said. "That's all well and good, but she won't tell _us_." "Then I'll testify." "You are not a witness and it is not admissable for you to testify on her behalf. And while we're on the subject, when do you intend to return her to us?" "I don't," Al said coldly. "Admiral," she said in the smooth tone used earlier. "You could be brought up on charges of kidnapping." "Ah, so I can be charged for trying to protect her, but he can't be charged for abusing her, is that it? Where's the sense in that?" "It wouldn't be us pressing charges, Admiral. It would be Mr. Winters." "Yeah," Al said, getting really steamed, "and what gives him the right to go get his daughter whenever he wants if he gave her up?" There was a pause. "His daughter? Callie is his niece. Her father died several years ago." "That's not what she told me. Or you, for that matter." "I apologize. A mistake on my part. I really have things to take care of." Al frowned. "Let me leave you my number in case you.....find out anything else." Al left her his number and she hung up quickly. His next call was on that he hoped would produce better results. The phone rang and a familiar voice answered. "Bill? Al." "Al, hey! Long time, no see. What happened, divorce again?" prodded a cheery voice. "No," Al responded lightly, "but I _do_ still need your services as a lawyer, and as a friend." "Shoot." Al explained his situation and Bill listened quietly without comment. "Well?" he finally asked. "Well, Al, the way I see it is that you can't press the charges. The most you can do is bring it to the attention of a social worker. Ms. Price wasn't telling you all the details, probably because if the social worker decides Callie's living in unfit conditions, that orphanage could be in a lot of trouble." Al brightened. "Well then that's it, isn't it?" "Not necessarily. You see, Al, the social worker could take some time to evaluate the situation and make a decision. If all Callie's got are bruises, no broken bones or anything, then her bastard of a father could just slip out of this in the clear." "How could that be?" Al demanded angrily. Bill's voice took on a calming tone. "Al, these social workers, their cases are rarely ever black and white. The legalities are so extensive, that even I don't know half of them. And if the social worker _is_ thorough and makes the right decision, there could still be legal complications with her being in an orphanage that could tie up the case in court for years. They do the best they can, but sometimes it's just not enough. And they get so wrapped up in red tape that it's hard to get anything accomplished." Al sighed. "Bill, suppose I told you that my main concern, before we get into all that, is just to get her out of harm's way and into a stable environment _now_." "Define stable." There was another pause and Al could hear the clicking of Bill's pen against his desktop through the receiver. "Then I'd say to adopt her." "I was being serious." "So was I." "Bill, even if I was crazy enough to even consider this, the adoption process itself could take months and this orphanage obviously doesn't even come close to doing things by the book in the first place. What's option two?" He sighed. "None that I can see. You just pray that the social worker does his or her job before it happens again." "Think about what you're saying! It just wouldn't work. First of all, I'm a bachelor. Second, well, I'm not even authorized to tell you about second place. And finally, I couldn't adopt her and then return her after the case made it through court. That's not fair." He could almost hear his friend's shrug. "So keep her." Al frowned. "Thanks, Bill, thanks a lot." "Look, sorry pal, I offer the best advice I can and you can take it or leave it." He paused. "Maybe it'd be easier if you just divorced her....it's more familiar territory." Al laughed. "Thanks. I'll take that under advisement." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ -------------------------------------------------- Verbeena frowned. "You're kidding." He shook his head and sat down on her couch. Callie was in the next room reading a book quietly and Verbeena closed the door between the two rooms. She motioned to his white suit. "So you're the White Knight now, or what?" "No. I just can't stand by and do nothing. That's not the way I work. I realize that it'll take time for the adoption to go through, but she can stay with me until it does." "What about Project Quantum Leap? They're going to look into you closely, Al. We can't have them in a top secret complex." Al held up his hands to forestall her additional protests. "I've already rented out a small apartment two miles from here on the outskirts on Santa Fe. And I've got some friends who owe me favors. It can happen." "You still have to talk to Callie about it," she pointed out. "Then let's do that now, before I go down to the orphanage." "You're doing that today?" "No time like the present. Besides, when Sam leaps in, I'll pretty much be tied down here. So let's talk to her and then I'll go down." "You're have to take Callie with you." He thought for a moment. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. Well, let's go talk with her." Callie looked up to see Al and smiled. "Hi, Al," she said. He couldn't help but smile back. "Hi, baby. We need to talk to you about something very important." He looked up at Verbeena and then sat on the floor beside her. "I've been thinking and I don't want you to have to see your father anymore, do you understand?" She looked up at him with wide eyes. "No." He took a deep breath. "Callie, would you want to live with me?" She looked scared. "Would I see my daddy again?" Al realized with a jolt that she was afraid of being repremanded by him for leaving. "No, no," he reassured her. "I'm doing this so he won't hurt you." She still looked uncertain, but she slowly agreed. "I would like that," she stated carefully and he laughed in relief. Verbeena started in surprise. It was so common for a child to want to return to an unhealthy situation because it is all they know that for Callie to so readily agree was a positive sign. Still, she wasn't certain that Callie would hold up to Al's expectations when it came down to the wire. Al just didn't understand the psychology of this type of situation. "I'm coming with you," she said from the doorway. He gave her a glance of acknowledgment and an appreciative smile.