Daddy's Girl
ttorney Heather Simms sipped her morning coffee while she read the Miami
Herald newspaper article clipped to her new case file. The headline screamed
"Neighbors Rescue Girl From Chains!".
The article began, "A 45 year old father was jailed after he tied a 15 foot chain weighing 20 pounds around his 14 year old daughter's neck, padlocked it, and left her outside their home, alone, while he went to work."
Heather worked in the Dade County Legal Aid Office, the organization that provides free attorneys for defendants who can not afford a lawyer. She marched into her boss's office after she read the file.
"Not this one, John," she said, throwing the file on his desk. "I take the worst sleazebags you throw my way, but I won't defend this father. Give it to Charlie."
"Would you like to sit and talk about it, or would you rather stand there and bark orders at probably your greatest admirer?" John asked back.
Heather gritted her teeth, and then sat down.
John Delgado, who looked 10 years older than his 55 years, glanced over at his ulcer medicine sitting on his desk. He hoped he would not need another pill after this meeting.
"I can't spare Charlie right now," John began. "We just received a high profile deportation case, and he's the immigration expert."
Heather frowned. John studied her while she was preparing her next volley. "She's my best attorney, " he thought, "and after only 6 years." He almost didn't hire her because of her age; she didn't become a member of the Bar until she was 32. She had a troubled background, straightened herself out, became a legal secretary, and for the next twelve years, went to college, and then Miami Law School, at night.
"What about Cindy?" she asked.
"Cindy is going on maternity leave at the end of week."
John thought, "I don't suppose you will be asking for maternity leave in the near future." Heather was married briefly when she first started working at Legal Aid, but she was now single. "Probably celibate, too," John continued thinking, looking at her plain brown business suit. "I wish she'd let her hair grow longer, and she wouldn't forget to put on makeup. It's almost like she goes out of her way to make herself look unattractive."
"How about Wendel?" Heather continued.
"Vacation starts tomorrow."
"Shit!" Heather groaned, slapping the arm of her chair.
"What's your problem on this one?" John asked.
Heather started to answer, and then stopped. "Never mind," she said. She stood up, snatched the file back, and slammed the door on her way out.
John shook his head, sighed, and watched her walk away through the glass partition in his office. "She's not pretty, and she can be a real bitch at times, " he thought. "And if I was 10 years younger, I'd let myself fall in love with her." He wondered what it was that attracted him. "It's must be her eyes," he concluded. "The pain of the world is in those eyes."
That afternoon, Heather was sitting in room C of the Dade County Jail, waiting for her client, one Rufus L. Porter. Elroy Powell, the huge 6 foot five 300 pound guard, opened the door, holding Rufus with one of his catcher-mitt sized hands. Rufus Porter, at five foot six and a hundred and twenty pounds, looked like a midget next to Elroy. Rufus pulled up the pants of the orange jail uniform that was two sizes too big for him, so he wouldn't trip over the cuffs.
"Sit down here 'cross from Miss Simms, Rufus," Elroy said, speaking in the dialect of the streets. He guided the smaller man into the chair. Rufus ran his manacled hands through what remained of his thinning, curly black hair sprinkled with gray.
Elroy looked at Heather. "You want me to leave the cuffs on, Miss Simms?"
Heather glanced at Rufus. "He looks tired and worn out," she thought. Heather shook her head no.
"Miss Simms say it's okay to take these cuffs off, Rufus, so you best be behavin' yourself now. I be standin' by that door, checkin' through the window. If you even think of harmin' one hair on this fine lady's head, you gonna be visitin' the hospital. Do we understand each other, Rufus?"
Rufus nodded and Elroy removed the handcuffs.
"I'll be right outside Miss Simms, if you need me," Elroy said.
"Thank you, Elroy. How's your nephew doing, by the way?"
"Cleetus be doin' fine, thanks to you Miss Simms. Think the boy straighten himself out now." He looked down at Rufus and a rare look of sympathy washed over Elroy's large features. "Rufus, you talk to Miss Simms like she your Mamma, and maybe she gonna help you." Elroy patted Rufus on the shoulder, and then stepped out of the room.
Heather read the police report while Rufus stared down at his hands. Heather glanced up and saw the object of Rufus's attention. His hands were swollen and the skin was worn like a man's twice his age. Heather felt herself becoming sympathetic, until she looked down again and read the details of the report.
"Well, Rufus, what's your side of the story?" she asked, clenching her jaw.
"What it say there?" he answered. His voice was soft and respectful.
"It says you put a heavy chain around your daughter's neck, and padlocked it so she couldn't get it off. Then you dragged her outside your home, and left her sitting in your backyard, while you drove off to work."
She waited for a response, but none came.
"Well, is it true?"
"Yes, m'am."
She waited again. When he didn't comment further, she said, "Rufus, would you share with me why you did it?"
"Didn't seem no other way," he said.
"No other way?" she asked.
"No other way to get through to her, m'am."
Heather stood up and walked around the table."One ... two ... three ... " she counted silently to herself. When she arrived at ten, she still needed to take a few deep breaths. She regained her composure, and then Rufus added ...
"Probably woulda worked, if my neighbors woulda minded they own business."
Heather lost it. "You miserable son of a bitch!" she shouted, pounding her fist on the table. "I'd like to wrap a chain around your neck to see if I can get through to you!"
Elroy ran in. He grabbed Rufus and yanked him out of this chair. "He touch you, Miss Simms?" he asked, raising his jail stick to strike Rufus.
"No, Elroy ... no ... put him down ... he didn't touch me ..." Heather answered, red-faced and ashamed now of her outburst.
Elroy looked puzzled. "You want me to take him back?"
"No ... leave him here ... we aren't finished ..."
Elroy placed Rufus back into his chair and cautiously left the room.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Porter. I'll ask the Judge to assign someone else your case. I can't defend you."
"What's that mean?" Rufus asked.
"It means it will take more time, but the court will assign you another lawyer from a private law firm."
"What you mean, more time, Miss Simms? I got to get out of here. Gonna lose my job if I don't get out soon. Gonna lose my house, my car, and my little girl."
"Mr. Porter, I think you better get used to the fact you are not going to get out of here. You should have thought about all the things you were going to lose before you locked a chain around your daughter's neck."
"You judged me already, is that it? You don't hear my side but already you fin' me guilty? You ain't much of a lawyer, are you?" Rufus talked to her like he was punishing a child.
Heather thought to herself, "I'm not going to let him get to me. No man is ever going to get to me like that again."
"I'm one hell of a lawyer, Mr. Porter." she said, cutting back at him with her voice. "You aren't much of a father. Your daughter is better off without you."
Heather gathered the papers, put them her briefcase, and walked to the door. Rufus stood up and blocked her exit.
"Move out of the way, Mr. Porter."
"First, you hear me out. Then you want to leave, you leave."
Heather opened her mouth to call Elroy. Rufus raised his hand to cover her mouth. Heather jumped back, dropping her briefcase, her eyes wide with fear. Rufus stopped, stared at his hand, and became scared also.
"Please, Miss Simms ....please ... I wasn't gonna hurt you ... please, don't call that big guard in here ... I'm beggin' you ... please ... "
Heather picked up her briefcase, her eyes trained on Rufus.
"Now I really done it!" he said, taking his hand and beating it against his leg. "Oh damn!" he cried, tears falling down his cheeks. "Damn damn damn damn ..."
He raised his hands to his face, covering his eyes and mouth, like he was trying to hide.
"Miss Simms ... please ... I'm an ignorant man ... I'm tryin' the best I know how, but it ain't good enough ... I know I done wrong by usin' that chain, but I run out of things to do."
Rufus wiped his eyes, and then his nose with his shirt sleeve. "It don't wash out no more," he muttered to himself.
Heather wanted to leave that room and never come back. She didn't want to hear Rufus Porter's story. She wanted to hate him and go on hating him because it felt good to hate him. Yet, she found herself asking, "What doesn't wash out?"
"What m'am?"
"I asked, what doesn't wash out?" she repeated.
"Dish detergent. The smell don't wash out no more. I works 10, maybe 12 hours a day, six, sometimes seven days a week cleanin' dishes and scrubbin' pots in a chinee restaurant so I can keep a decent roof over our heads. "
Heather remembered another set of man's hands, holding her when she was a little girl. They were rough and calloused and had cuts from where the sheet metal sliced into his skin. But when those hands held her, she felt safe.
"Miss Simms?" Rufus asked, interrupting her thoughts.
"Yes, Rufus."
"I'm movin' out the way, now. I'm gonna sit down and wait for you to make up your mind. You want to call big Elroy in, you go do it. You want to stay and let me tell you my side, we can do that, too. Whatever you say be right by me." Rufus pulled out his chair, sat down, stared straight ahead, and waited.
"I should have my head examined," Heather said to herself, as she slowly walked around the table and sat down. "I know I'm going to regret his, and I should have my brains de-mushed."
Heather took out her legal pad, picked up a pen, and said, "Go ahead, Rufus."
"Where you want me to start, Miss Simms?"
"How about just before the chain incident?" Heather suggested.
"You mean where Lareene stole my car?"
"Yes, start there."
"That was the second time. First time she took it, she and her friends crashed it into a wall."
"Rufus, you just keep going. I'll interrupt you if I need to know something."
"Okay, Miss Simms. Well, she's in with a bad group now. They steal money, and snort that crack cocaine. Can't keep nothin' valuable 'round the house. No jewelry or stereo or VCR. Forget about that. They be gone when I get home from work Only reason tv is still there is she got to watch somethin'. Got no woman to help me bring up Lareene. Her mamma's been dead 'bout five years now. I got to leave Lareene alone most of the time. Soon as I drive off, she's out the door, meeting her no-good friends. You remember how important your friends was when you was that age?"
"Yes," Heather answered. "Too important," she said to herself.
"Nothin I say means nothin' to her. I try to keep the girl in school, tell her how an education gonna give her ten times more than all her friends gonna give her. She don't listen. The teachers be callin' me all the time, tellin' me she ain't been showin' up. I try bein' nice to the girl, offer her money to do her homework. She don't care. I say she gonna be the first person in my family to make it past the ninf grade. She say, don't mean nothin' "
Rufus paused, and lowered his voice. "I got money saved for Lareene's education. Ain't much, maybe $300. Didn't tell them court people 'bout that, but if you want it, it's yours."
Heather was moved. "Thanks, but you keep it for Lareene, Rufus. I'll get paid by Legal Aid."
Rufus smiled. He was about to continue, when Heather interrupted him.
"How do you normally punish your daughter, Rufus?"
"Well, that depends. When she stole the car, I took away the tv. Didn't work. She just went over her friends house to watch. When I caught her in bed with Tarone, well, that was too much. Saw my baby girl nekid with that gold toothed nasty-faced boy and I went crazy. He was hurtin' her. I mean, it wasn't right. Was some sort of gang initiation. My baby's fourteen and he be doin' things to her that was sick."
Tears spilled out of Rufus's eyes. "My baby girl ...my baby girl ..." he repeated.
Heather waited for him to regain his composure.
"So I pick up a stick and I beat him out of the house, and then I beat her."
Heather squeezed her pen so tight her fingers hurt. "Did she report you for this?"
"Report me? No. Was I wrong, Miss Simms? You think I done wrong?"
Heather looked into his eyes. "I don't know. Tell me what happened next."
"She run away. I come from work, she ain't there. Wait up all night, still no sign of Lareene. Called the neighbors, they don't know nothin'. Went 'round next day and ask her friends. Nobody say nothin'. Thought for sure, this time I really messed up. She ain't never comin' back. And that 'bout drove me crazy. Couldn't sleep. Startin' in to drinkin' so I could close my eyes and get just a little rest."
"Did you go to the Police and file a missing person's report?"
"No, ma'am. Police ain't nothin' but trouble in my neighborhood."
"How long was she gone?"
"Almost two weeks. She musta think I be crazy when she got back home. I was kissin' and huggin' her, promisin' I ain't never gonna beat her again. I tried so hard. I did, Miss Simms. Two days later, she be sneakin' out again, playin' hookey, and stealin'. I didn't know what to do nomore. That's when I got the idea from that movie."
"What movie?"
"Seen a movie on tv about a chain gang. Figured it would give Lareene a lesson about where her life was leading to, being chained up. Figured it would shame her in front of her friends, and they would leave her be."
"You wanted to shame her?" Heather asked, anger creeping into her voice. She pushed down so hard on her pen, she broke it, and ink splattered everywhere.
Rufus watched as Heather wiped the ink away. He was surprised to see tears in her eyes.
"M'am, did I say something to hurt you? If I did, I'm sorry."
"No, Rufus. This is just a difficult story for me to hear. I'll be all right in a second."
Rufus waited patiently while Heather dried her eyes and regained her composure.
"Miss Simms," he said when she looked back at him. "I had a lot of time to think about this, bein' locked up here. Seems like all you have time to do here is think. And what I come to is this. It's not that I don't love my daughter. I love her so much it hurts. It's that I don't know how to love my daughter, anymore. Nobody never taught me how to work through situations like this."
Heather started crying again, which sacred Rufus. "M'am?" he asked.
Heather wiped her eyes again, and this time, she smiled, confusing Rufus. Then she patted Rufus's swollen hands, and said, "We'll get someone to show you how."
Heather's actions surprised even her boss, John Delgado, and he thought he had seen it all. Heather had the Legal Aid Defense Fund post bond for Rufus so he could go back to work. She went to Social Services and arranged free counseling two nights a week for him. She got the Department of Children and Families to agree to return custody of Lareene to Rufus after 6 months of counseling and a favorable psychological evaluation.
Heather's legal brief was the single most important reason that Judge Weinstein put Rufus on probation, rather then sentencing him to prison for aggravated child abuse. There was political pressure exerted on the Judge to be severe in the case, but he didn't succumb because of the look Heather gave him when she said she would vouch for Rufus L. Porter. The Judge did promise he would put Rufus in prison and throw away the key if he ever showed up in his courtroom again for anything like this.
When Rufus L. Porter walked out of the Dade County Courthouse a free man, he hugged his attorney, Heather Simms. Then he gave her a gold locket in the shape of a heart.
Heather went home after work that night and poured herself a stiff drink. Then she dialed a phone number she carried in her wallet for 22 years. She hung up before the line completed.
Voices and pictures ran through her mind, images she could no longer suppress. Heather was sixteen again, and she was in the basement of her house. She was kissing and petting with Jamie Cicero. Her blouse was unbuttoned, and her bra removed. Jamie was kissing her breasts and she was feeling the blood rush around her body. She was rubbing against him and he was moaning. They were both blind with passion, as sixteen-year-old's will be.
Then she felt someone watching her. She opened her eyes, and there was her father. She had never seen his look, a combination of anger, hurt, and murder. With his strong hands, he picked up Jamie and threw him into the wall. Jamie got up, saw her father coming at him again, and he ran out of the room, out the front door, with her father giving chase and shouting curses.
But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was when her father came back, and he had the scissors in his hand. With the same strong hands that used to hold her while he whispered "Daddy's girl," in her ear, he held her arms together behind her back and cut off her hair. Heather had beautiful, waist-length, radiant brown hair that she was so proud of. All her friends envied her hair. When her father was done, it was butchered.
Heather ran away rather than face the shame she would feel in front of her friends. She ran away and never looked back. Until now. Until she had to defend a tired, frustrated father named Rufus L. Porter.
She put the drink down and dialed the number again.
The line stopped ringing. A man picked up. "Hello?" he answered. The voice was older, but still familiar.
Heather hesitated. She wanted to hang up, again. She held the gold locket shaped like a heart for strength.
"Hello ... Dad ..." she said.
There was a long pause. "Heather?"
