Chances Are... Stories of Hope Jackie's Tale by Andrea Lena DiMaggio

Grand Island, Nebraska...

“Taryn…can you come here, please?” Alison called up to her daughter. Moments later the girl came bounding down the stairs.

“What’s up, Mom?” The girl smiled as she walked into the living room. Standing next to her mother was a boy of about her age.

“We've got company.” Her mother half-frowned. Taryn looked at the boy; he seemed timid and almost hid behind her mother.

“Oh, gosh, Jack…what are you doing here?” She tilted her head as if to seek some explanation for the boy’s presence.

“You told me to come around if I had any problems.” The boy shook his head slightly before looking down at the floor. She only then noticed the bruise under his left eye.

“Oh…shit.” She walked over and gently lifted his head with her hand; her efforts to spare him pain went for naught as the boy winced.

“Did he do this to you? Son of a…. Mom?” Alison stared at the boy before turning her gaze back to her daughter.

“Oh…damn, of course he can stay.” She sighed and walked into the kitchen; returning moments later with an ice pack.

“He….he said…no brother of mine....” The boy accepted the proffered ice pack and sat down on the couch.”

“We knew that was gonna happen, Jack…why didn't you....” She spoke as if he had done something wrong; certainly not her intent, but it felt that way just the same to the boy sitting before her. He began to sob.

“I’m sorry…Tar…I should have….” He struggled through the first few words before losing it altogether as he wept into the back cushion of the couch.

“No shoulds in this house honey.” Alison sat down next to the boy and held him in her arms.

“It’s okay….let it out. It’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah….Jack…I’m sorry…it’s not your fault…I didn’t mean to accuse you…I’m just so worried that the next time….”

“There won’t be a next time. Taryn…get me the phone.” The girl walked into the kitchen and returned with her mother’s cell phone.

“Hello? Yes…I want to report…yes…no, physical…he’s here with me now… yes…no….” Alison looked up and Taryn mouthed ‘older brother.’

“Older brother…as far as I know. We’re going to take him to the hospital…no…not a problem…My daughter and I will be happy to talk with someone there. Yes. I don’t mind…no…not anonymous… Alison Duplantis… yes… about fifteen minutes…okay.”

“We’ll take you to the hospital, okay?” The boy looked at her and shook her head. He cast his vision downward at his attire. He was wearing a hip-length green sweater over black tights and black flats. His longish hair was pulled back in a pony tail and his face was streaked with black marks from where the eyeliner had run.

"The tears actually will do some good." Alison thought sadly. The social workers might take her gender issues and might take the home problems more seriously.

“This isn’t the first time, from what Taryn has told me, honey, but it will be the last, I swear it.” Alison stood up and walked back to the kitchen. She reached over the chair and retrieved her belt and holster, buckling it quickly before retrieving her cap from the mantel over the fireplace.

“We’ll go to the hospital first. You can call your father from there and tell him you’ll be spending the night with Taryn and me if they discharge you. We’ll get things sorted out in the morning.

“Will they let you do that?” The boy asked softly, his head down once again. She walked over and lifted his head gently with her hand; the smile on her face as welcoming as the gesture as she said,

“Sweetie; I’m the Chief of Police here….I can pretty much do what I want as long as it’s legal and safe, and believe me; you staying with us for one night is both. Maybe we can do something about getting your brother some help.”

“Honey,” she said, turning to her daughter. Why don’t you bring something of yours for Jackie to change into after the hospital folks do their thing, okay? And get three Aquafina from the fridge. I’ll meet you at the car.

“Let’s go, okay…just so everyone knows it’s okay, you can sit up front with me, alright?” Alison walked the child out to her car; unmarked Crown Vic. She opened the front passenger door and ushered the boy inside. A moment later a silver Audi A6 pulled up and a man got out.

“Excuse me…Excuse me? That’s my son you’ve got with you… He’s coming home with me.” The man exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, sir, but you’re wrong on several points.” The man glared at Alison as she stepped around from the passenger side and stood in the man’s way.

“First; this is Jackie O’Donnell, right? Your child? Your child is the victim of domestic violence, and as such I am charged with her transport to the hospital and to report this both to social services and make a report of a crime.

“It’s between him and his brother…they were just rough-housing.” The man protested.

“No, sir…it’s not between him and his brother. It’s between the State of Nebraska and your son for physical battery. This wasn't rough-housing at all. Judging by the location of this bruise, sir, your son may have broken the socket, and she may need surgery. Either way, none of this is my call; I am bound by law to both report this and to see that this child gets medical attention. You’re welcome to follow me to the hospital, but if there are any previous complaints against your son, you may be looking at your daughter’s removal from the home.”

“Would you stop saying that? That’s my son, John Junior….Jack…his brother didn’t mean to hurt him.” The man was more frustrated than angry.

“Your son had every intention, according to your daughter, of causing physical harm, from what she told my daughter. Look at her face, sir. At this point it’s really going to be up to the protective services folks about what happens next. Either way, I suggest you contact your attorney on your son’s behalf.” As she finished speaking, Taryn came out of the house with a gym bag and a Safeway bag filled with bottled water. She got into the back seat.

“Please don’t do this to my son…please...for God's sake, he's only sixteen.” The man pleaded with her. She half-frowned and spoke once more before getting into the car.

“I’m sorry sir; I’m not doing ‘this’ to your son; your son brought it on himself when he did this to your daughter. I suggest you keep that in mind for the sake of both your children. I am truly sorry, sir.”

“But….” The man put his head down and began to cry into his right hand, his left hand waving at his side as if he could shoo away the trouble.

“Sir…follow me to the hospital and attend to your daughter’s needs. I’m sure we can work something out with the court for your son tomorrow or later this evening, after Jackie is squared away. Okay?”

Alison shook her head in frustration and got into the car and began to drive off. As the car pulled past the man he looked at the sad figure sitting in the passenger seat. The girl looked at him with the saddest expression he had ever seen. He blinked back some tears and shouted,

“I’m sorry, Jackie….I’m so sorry.”

He stood there and watched the car drive off before getting into his own car. A moment later he was off down the road on the way to the hospital.

Next: Jackie's Chance