Free I'll Stand by You by Sharon Sala Page B

“Hold my hand, okay?”
    Beep nodded.
    “You can hold mine too,” Marshall whispered.
    Beep latched on to both of his brothers and up the sidewalk they went.
    The sun was warm on their faces as they walked past bushes of blooming azaleas rife with honey bees and butterflies. Intent on what they had yet to face, they also missed seeing the hummingbirds darting in and out of flowers. A squirrel was sitting beneath the old oak on the courthouse commons, scolding all who walked past, while another was on the back of a bench beneath it. It was an idyllic scene in the midst of chaos.
    Johnny shortened his stride for Beep, who was moving like a little old man stiff with arthritis. Marshall stayed in step right beside him with his chin up and a frown on his face, a miniature version of his big brother.
    The crowd at the front of the courthouse was noisy and bordering on disturbing the peace. With nothing but a sidewalk separating the people wanting justice for Beep from the others wanting it all to go away, it wouldn’t have taken much for trouble to begin.
    But then someone noticed the Pine family coming up the sidewalk and word began to spread. Voices lowered and then trailed off into total silence as the full extent of Brooks Pine’s injuries became apparent. Shock spread silently through the crowd. It was no longer about the haves and have-nots. It was about a very small boy who appeared to have been beaten within an inch of his life.
    A woman from the back of the crowd called out, “God bless you, child.”
    A man took out his handkerchief and quickly wiped his eyes and blew his nose.
    Embarrassed by the stares, Beep stumbled and then cried out in pain from the jolt. If Johnny and Marshall had not been holding on to him, he would have fallen.
    Ignoring the countless onlookers, Johnny stopped and knelt. “Are you okay, buddy?”
    Beep was holding his belly.
    “It hurt me here,” he said, rubbing his side where the ribs were broken.
    “Put your arms around my neck and hold on,” Johnny said and slid his arms beneath his little brother’s backside as he stood.
    Beep hid his face in the curve of Johnny’s neck. He’d had enough notoriety for one day.
    Marshall was anxious. He didn’t know what to think about all the people staring at them and was grateful when they finally got inside.
    They had to stop at the door and go through a metal detector, which slowed down their progress even more, but there was a bright spot on their horizon. They were no longer on their own. Butterman was waiting for them on the other side of the detector. Johnny caught his gaze and Butterman winked. It reminded Johnny to relax. They weren’t the ones in trouble.
    They passed through the halls without looking once at the people lining the walls, and when they reached the judge’s office, Butterman led the way inside.
    When Johnny realized the boys and their parents were already there, he paused in the doorway, giving all of them a look none would challenge.
    One by one, they looked away.
    “Take a seat here,” Butterman said, indicating chairs on the other side of the room and then glancing at his watch. “We still have a couple of minutes.”
    Johnny sat down, and as he did, Marshall took the chair beside him. As soon as Johnny sat, he eased Beep into his lap, seating him with his back against Johnny’s chest. He felt Beep flinch and knew he’d seen the boys, and at the same time, the parents were getting their first look at Beep, as well.
    “Dear God,” Mrs. Sharp said and then clapped a hand over her mouth as Coach Sharp stared in disbelief.
    Carl Buckley’s lips went slack, and then he glanced down at his son, as if seeing him for the first time as a person capable of doing something that horrific.
    Mrs. Rankin moaned and then covered her face.
    They had all agreed on one lawyer to represent them, because the boys had been equally charged, and now he sat staring at the boy across the room and knew the best they could hope for