Sharon Whitehill Court Date in Three Acts Act 1 Unable to find either license or the certificate of her birth for her court date, Dawn is crying and I am fuming. Let her face the consequences, I want to say, but it’s the teenager’s parent who pays in the end. Act 2 Did you drink the beer? the juvenile officer asks. Her denial forthright, firm: The driver gave it to me and told me to pour it out. Does that still count as possession? No trace of snippy teen in her query, Her voice trembles, tears brim, red blotches appear on her neck. My anger dwindles, respect and tenderness rise. Act 3 I watch her fill out new forms for a duplicate license, stare at her silly shoes, at the blouse untucked from her skirt, at the hair caught under her collar, and I’m engulfed by a love that feels almost like grief, as if I’ve breathed water.
173
