Parity

How do you put a price on a child's life?

Yesterday morning, a detective phoned Dude's mother and asked her for an update on his injuries. He wanted to know if Dude was up and walking around yet (!); she laughed rather bitterly while telling me of this exchange and told him to, "grab a pencil". Then she started on one side of his body and worked her way down and around, and up the other side.

The purpose of this? He needed to make a report to take to the drunk driver's bail hearing. They wanted it as high as possible.

Ultimately, it ended up at $100,000. The idiot, who is from out of state, and has no insurance, was unable to make bail. He is behind bars. At this point, they haven't discovered if it's even his car.

I wonder what he's thinking about, sitting there in jail. Is he feeling like he's a victim? Or is he feeling like he made a mistake, and he's sorry for it? Do you suppose he's decided he'll NEVER do this again, or is he pacing the cell with pent-up fury, waiting to be released, so he can head straight to another bar and get drunk again? Is he thinking at ALL about the kid lying in the hospital?

The kid in the hospital is going to be ok, eventually. Right now, he's still a mess. We saw him again today; it's a long, drawn-out process, as only two at a time can go into his room, and there's always a waiting room full of people waiting to get in. Yesterday he was awake enough to recognize some of the people and it agitated him to the point where he started ripping lines out of his body and trying to get out of bed when they left. He felt he needed to leave with them. He has no concept of where he is, or why. No recollection of the accident. If his buddies are leaving, then he needs to be leaving with them. While he's able to mumble short sentences, they're generally odd, such as wanting his mom to bring his soccer bag because he thinks he's got a game, or telling her that the nurses are going to jump him; today they sedated him back into oblivion. It's the only thing that's safe for both them and him.

He's noticed his lack of teeth, but doesn't know why. When he woke up, briefly, he said to his mom, "mom, look at my grill!" It came out rather stilted and muffled, as his mouth is swollen and the teeth are gone; but he kept pushing his tongue through it and half-giggling, in a stoned way. Today he recognized that he has glass and scabs in his back, but he has no clue why. His whole face is slightly yellowed, and his eyes are blackened.

I guess Dude, locked within this haze of drugs and pain, is as much a prisoner as the man who got drunk and hit him.

Somehow, it doesn't seem fair.