Free Custody of the State by Craig Parshall

today?”
    â€œJoe has his bail hearing this afternoon—possibly with his new attorney, whoever that happens to be. And at the same time, Will plans on entering an appearance in your case.”
    After a pause, Jacki added, “You know, Mary Sue, you are going to have to tell us where you are. And eventually you will have to give yourself up. The law is going to require it. I’m sure Will has talked to you about that—and if he hasn’t, he probably will.”
    There was silence for a moment. “Miss Johnson?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œAre you married?”
    â€œYes, I am.”
    â€œHave you ever been a mother?”
    â€œNo, not yet. But I do look forward to that. Howard, my husband, and I would like to have a baby. Why?”
    â€œJust wondering,” Mary Sue said, looking over at the station wagon where Katherine was playing a patty-cake game with Joshua.
    Then she continued. “Talk to me about turning my child over to Social Services when you’ve carried a baby under your heart for nine months. When you see him born—and nurse him when he’s got a temperature of a hundred and three. When you’re the last thing he sees at night and the first thing in the morning. After you hold your child when he is scared and kiss his tears away—then come to me. Then talk to me about what the law requires, Miss Johnson.”

11
    W ILL WAS SITTING in the attorney’s bench in a Delphi courtroom—that of Judge Wilbur Mason. At the front, the bailiff was chatting with another court worker. Except for a couple in the back, no one else was in the room.
    After glancing at his watch, Will looked around the courtroom. In the back row there was a blond woman in her forties, well-dressed, who looked mildly familiar. Next to her was a younger man in a denim shirt, with hair that had an orangish tint to it. He had an MTV look about him.
    It was now 1:15 P.M . The hearing in Mary Sue’s case had been scheduled to start at 1:00.
    Then the door to an anteroom opened, and a small flood of people entered the courtroom. In the lead was prosecutor Harry Putnam, striding quickly, file in hand. He was grinning.
    The court reporter was next, lugging her stenographic equipment.
    She was followed by a woman wearing a bland suit jacket and a pair of jeans, with a plastic tag dangling from her neck on a little chain. She was carrying a pile of papers. Will assumed she was a county worker—probably Liz Luden from Social Services.
    Finally, a rumpled-looking woman in a pantsuit entered the courtroom. She had a briefcase and shouted a husky hello to the bailiff as she walked over to him. The two enjoyed a loud laugh about something until the judge entered in his robe, a thick file under his arm.
    The courtroom fell silent as everyone rose.
    â€œState of Georgia versus Mary Sue Fellows—child abuse—one count—everybody here?” the judge asked.
    â€œHerodius Putnam, prosecutor, for the State.”
    â€œHarriet Bender, recently court-appointed to act as attorney ad litem for the child Joshua Fellows,” the woman in the pantsuit barked out with enthusiasm.
    â€œLiz Luden, Social Services, Your Honor.”
    Will Chambers moved forward to the empty counsel’s table.
    â€œYour Honor, Will Chambers, from the Commonwealth of Virginia. I have filed my motion for admission, pro hac vice. I am here, entering a special appearance on behalf of Mary Sue Fellows.”
    â€œPerhaps you could enlighten us,” the judge asked with a smile, staring up at the ceiling, “what’s so special about your appearance today, Mr. Chambers?”
    Putnam and Harriet Bender laughed loudly. The bailiff and the court clerk were resisting the temptation to join in the mirth.
    â€œThe special appearance is to let the court know that we are objecting to jurisdiction over my client. A general appearance, Your Honor, would have waived any jurisdiction