Fortune's rocks_ a novel - Anita Shreve [169]
“Mais oui,” she says quickly.
“You would promote the moral values of honesty and obedience and kindness to others.”
“Of course.”
“And you would promote the work ethic which is so dear to the Franco-American community.”
“Yes, I must.”
“But you would not have Pierre go into the mills at age eight, as you had to do.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head.
“You would wait until he was ten.”
She seems to think a moment. “Ten, yes,” she says.
Tucker pauses.
“Ten, definitely?” Tucker asks.
“Ten, yes, I think so. Definitely.”
There is a moment of silence. Then Sears, galvanized, rises to his feet and begins to speak, but even Olympia can see that it is too late. She watches as bewilderment and then comprehension pass across the features of Albertine Bolduc. At the respondents’ table, Telesphore puts his head in his hands.
“Mr. Sears, sit down,” says Judge Littlefield.
“But, Your Honor,” Sears says.
“Sit down, Mr. Sears.”
The courtroom is preternaturally quiet, as though something large and ponderous has settled upon it.
“I have no further questions, Your Honor,” says Tucker into the silence.
“You have no further witnesses?”
“No, I do not. But I should like permission to address the court.”
“Your Honor,” says Sears, now alarmingly pink in the face. “This is highly unusual. Mr. Tucker cannot address the court at this point.”
“The petitioner’s suit is completed,” says Tucker.
Littlefield thinks a moment. “This may be somewhat unusual, Mr. Sears, but it is not unprecedented. Mr. Tucker may perhaps jeopardize the petitioner’s own suit by making his address now, before he has heard the respondents’ other evidence. But if he chooses to do so, he may.”
“I do choose to do so,” says Tucker.
“Your Honor, this is highly irregular.”
“Yes, Mr. Sears. I understand that. But, I repeat, not unprecedented. Mr. Tucker, you may proceed.”
Sears, shaking his head, sits reluctantly. Albertine, clearly stunned by the abrupt ending to her interview as well as the potential damage she has done to herself, remains motionless in the witness box. Judge Littlefield, glancing in her direction, asks her politely to step down. But Albertine is deeply shaken and, in a bitter moment of irony, is forced to take Tucker’s hand so that he may help her back to her seat. Sears, furious, rises at once to take her from Tucker.
Tucker returns to his desk and removes another set of notes from his briefcase. He looks at Olympia as if he would speak, though he does not. She watches as he walks slowly to the lectern. Her future, her entire future, is in the hands of this young man, barely out of law school, a man who perhaps has never argued a case before.
“Your Honor,” he begins, “my address to the court, while not incendiary in intent, may be seen as being so by members of the Franco-American community, and as this court is not a forum for political debate, and as I should not like to be interrupted in my summation by shouts and catcalls from the gallery, I request that the court be cleared for this part of the hearing.”
Immediately, the gallery seems crowded with noisy confusion — shouts in both French and English. Albertine, alarmed, swivels in her seat to examine the spectators. Littlefield bangs his gavel hard until finally there is silence. “Mr. Tucker, I have been searching for a valid reason to clear this court for the past hour. Thank you very much. Bailiff, will you help the audience to vacate the courtroom forthwith. Anyone who resists will be arrested.”
At the lectern Tucker remains motionless.
“Mr. Tucker,” says Littlefield, when the audience has been removed. “I think we are finally free of potential disturbances. You may begin.”
The aura of stillness surrounding Tucker begins to spread through the courtroom, as if in concentric circles.
“Your Honor,” he begins, “we cannot guarantee the education of the child once we bind over custody. The Texas Supreme Court in 1894 recognized this when it likened parental authority to a trusteeship subject to public oversight:
“‘The state, as protector and