Dan

I'm feeling so conflicted. What shall I do with my son, Ms J? I don't know whether he needs a hug or the length of my boot up his arse. His court date is tomorrow (Tuesday) morning. I phoned Kelly this afternoon to ask about sitting Daniel down and trying to reason with him on Thursday, when I go to collect Meagan. (I'm taking my best girl to see Green Day in concert on Friday evening.) At the time, I didn't know the date of his court appearance. Indeed, mother and son had conspired to keep it a secret until Saturday afternoon at Meagan's rodeo.

"Oh hi, Dale," Kelly said on the phone today. "I was going to call you. What are you doing tomorrow morning? Are you busy?"

I told her I had a physiotherapy appointment.

"Oh, that's too bad. I was hoping you might be available to take us to court."

I was taken aback. I didn't expect the court date would be so soon. Why hadn't she told me earlier? Why didn't I ask at the rodeo? I could have arranged to drive Dan to court. I could have prepared myself emotionally. I didn't really know what to say now. So I spoke my Truth.

"You know what, Kelly?" I began. "I'm not the one who behaves like a deranged madman. It's not my fault he has to go and face a judge. I'm done helping him. I tried helping him last winter. He thanked me by packing his belongings and moving back to your place. We had a treatment plan all mapped out for him, but he walked away from it. Then he came here to help me when my leg was broken. He did nothing but worry me, staying out late, sleeping late, and getting high in my garage. He's a selfish little shit, and it's time he learned a little responsibility. Let him find his own way to the court house."

"But it's in Burlington, Dale. How will he get there from Acton? Scott, or Daniel's father as I call him, knew about this a long time ago, but he's decided to go to New York or someplace on business. He can't drive us. I don't have a car. I don't know what to do."

Scott again. Scott was informed about my son's arrest and impending trial. But nobody told me. You see what I mean, Ms J? You see why I feel jealous of Scott? And why did she have to throw in that bit about "Daniel's father as I call him"? Why did she need to say that? I resisted the urge to quarrel with her.

"I'm sorry, Kelly. I won't tell you what to do here. I know you love the boy and you want to help him. I understand that. You know I love him too. But you're asking me to help him and I just won't do it. He got himself into this mess. He can get himself out of it. Seems to me, the best way to help him right now, is not to help him at all."

She actually surprised me with her calmness. I had expected an attack with guilt-tipped spears. I had expected more self-indulgent rubbish. More self-pity. Tears and hysterics. But there was none of that. When she spoke, her voice was flat.

"If he doesn't go to court, he'll be in even more trouble."

"I know, Kelly. Failure to appear is a serious charge. They'll just add more time to his sentence, if he gets one. Does Dan know what'll happen if he doesn't show? Is he nervous?"

I could hear her blowing a cloud of tobacco smoke and I waited for her response.

"Yeah, he knows that. And yes, he's nervous. He's trimmed his beard and pulled his hair back into a ponytail. He's panicking because he says he has nothing to wear."

"Why doesn't he cut his hair, Kelly? He looks like a filthy stemmer. All he needs is a bottle in a brown paper bag to complete the ensemble."

That was a bit harsh, Ms J. I wished I hadn't said it. Luckily, Kelly didn't react to it, so I continued to rave.

"I'm so disgusted with that kid, Kel'. He lies. He steals. He abuses drugs. He won't work. I'm ashamed of my son. I love him, dammit, but I'm ashamed of him. Maybe a few months behind bars will do him good."

I was building up a full head of steam and feeling quite self-righteous in my reproach until Kelly stopped me in my tracks.

"But what if he's sick, Dale? What if there's really something wrong with him, something we can fix with drugs or therapy? What if he can't help how he behaves?"

I stopped, took a deep breath and exhaled. She had a good point. What if ...?

"Maybe the courts will get him the help he needs, Kelly. Maybe they'll order him into a treatment centre or to see a psychiatrist regularly. He wouldn't listen to me. Maybe he'll listen to a judge."

Why must Life be so difficult for some people, Ms Journal? Why must it be so hard for my son?

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