Vigilant

“Yes, ma’am.”

“He’s always been good at sports. Probably get a basketball scholarship. Everyone says so.”

Ari had no idea who “everyone” was. She simply said, “Good. Then this may be the best place for him.”

Ms. Wilson stared at Ari with suspicious eyes. “What do you need from me?”

“I came by to see if Curtis has any clothes or personal items I can take to him. Is there anything here?”

Ms. Wilson finally slid the latch on the other side of the door. “You can check his room.”

She followed the woman through the cluttered house. Past cheap furniture and a blaring television. A hole in the wall and the spider-webbed lines of the cracked ceiling revealed how desperately the house needed repair. From reading Curtis’s file, Ari knew his mother didn’t work and that she lived off government assistance. His father had been in jail since Curtis was a toddler, up until his death just before Curtis’s tenth birthday. The odds stacked against Curtis Wilson finding success in this world seemed insurmountable.

“Check his drawers if you want. Or the closet. There’s not much, but I haven’t been in here since he left.”

Ari watched as his mother walked away, probably back to the living room, leaving Ari alone in the room.

Overall, Curtis kept his room tidier than she would expect for a teenage boy. His mattress sat on the floor with no frame. Surprisingly, a couple of books sat stacked neatly on the floor. She noticed library stickers on the back and put them in her bag, figuring no one else would return them. Several trophies sat on the top of his dresser and ribbons were tacked onto the walls. Ari leaned closer to read the lettering. Academic, football, math…

Although they were several years old, it became obvious that Curtis was more than a gifted athlete—he had a brain, too.

No wonder Judge Hatcher wanted to give him a second chance.

The dresser had two broken knobs, so Ari jimmied the drawers open with a comb she found on top. Inside, she salvaged three T-shirts and a pair of jeans. In his sock drawer, she found a baggie of weed. Holding it in her hand she weighed her options. In the end, she tossed it back in. The weed alone could explain his slipping grades. Closing the drawer, she moved to the closet, which revealed a coat and two pairs of shoes. They were probably too small, but it was worth a shot.

In the living room, Ari found Ms. Wilson where she’d expected her, curled up on the couch staring at the television. Ari stopped in front of the door and pulled some papers out of her bag. “Ms. Wilson, here is some information about Curtis. His phone number and visiting hours. I’ll be happy to drive you once he earns visitation.”

“I don’t have a phone,” she said.

“I know. You’re welcome to come by my office and we can call him.”

Ms. Wilson didn’t answer, her heavy eyes glazed over in the direction of the television. Ari slipped her own card out of her pocket and left it with the other paperwork before she walked out the door.

* * *

Back at the office, Ari found Jace Watkins’s file on her desk. It was six inches thick and masking tape had replaced the original binding. Stanton passed her office and said, “Heard you asking about him the other day and I found that in storage. He’s over eighteen and out of our jurisdiction. The last time I saw him was in county lockup for an assault charge. He aged out while waiting for trial. Not sure what happened after that.”

“Thanks,” Ari said, opening the front cover. She’d been poking around the closed files the other day and asked her fellow caseworker, Tony, if he remembered anything about him. She should have just asked Stanton in the first place. He remembered everything about the kids that came in and out of here. She skimmed the details, but it seemed Jace had a history of violent crimes, starting at age twelve. He spent two sentences in long-term detention before he was eighteen, and then the arrest Stanton spoke of. He only had an eighth-grade education, but his psychological exam noted his high IQ. Smart and dangerous. Scary.

Carrying the file, Ari walked to the office next door. “Stanton, do you remember what the last arrest was for? The adult charge?”

He scratched his bald head. “Armed robbery I think. That was kind of his standard M.O. Maybe a convenience store?”

“Ok

ay.” So Jace had a history of armed robbery. Not surprised, she started back to her office but stopped when Stanton called her name.

“Why are you looking into him? Don’t you have enough cases of your own?”

“You would think, right?” Ari laughed. “One of my files crossed with his and I was just curious. Nothing big.”

“Look in the back. I should have put his final court notice in there.”

“Okay,” she said, flipping through the pages. Just inside her door she jumped, dropping the file to the ground.

“Holy crud, Nick!” She bent down to pick up the paperwork, while her heart slammed against her chest. “You scared me!”

Nick scrambled from the empty chair he’d been waiting in. “I’m sorry, not my intention.”