Series: Four Lives, One Last Chance - A Year In Drug Court: Part 23 Of 41

ACT III. VERNON: THE REVOCATION

Vernon has been falling asleep during group counseling.

He's been skipping his Narcotics Anonymous meetings.

When the Drug Court counselors tell him he needs to grow, he thinks they
want to change him against his will, to mold him into someone he's not.

When someone talks about the spiritual principles of Narcotics Anonymous,
he hears cliches and slogans.

He realizes he has a bad attitude, but he doesn't seem to care.

When Ford reports to the judge in January that Vernon hasn't been focused
on Drug Court and his recovery, the disgruntled client agrees.

"You ain't lying," he says. "I ain't been feeling Drug Court lately."

In fact, he hasn't been feeling much of anything since his father died in
September. Since then, he has followed the same mundane schedule. He goes
to work, then he goes home to watch movies on the DVD player he picked up
at a rent-to-own store. He grudgingly attends NA meetings, and he's
increasingly combative at Drug Court.

Everyone - his counselors, his parole officer, his friends and even the
judge - are getting tired of waiting for him to shake out of it.

The judge has already kicked Aaron, another stagnating addict, from the
program. But the news didn't faze Vernon. Instead, he talked with his
normal bravado about how he would have run from the courtroom and
surrendered only after he had put his furniture in storage.

Not long after Aaron was revoked, Vernon stops going to NA meetings altogether.

So the judge orders him to do seven meetings in seven days. When he doesn't
do that, the judge gives him two days in jail and orders him to attend NA
meetings three days in a row when he gets out.

Instead, Vernon misses all three.

When he stands before the judge a few days later, he finds the normally
affable Conway uncharacteristically angered at this "disregard" for his order.

For several minutes, the judge hurls questions at him, demanding that he
explain why he thought he could ignore the order. Vernon, rattled by the
barrage, makes jumbled arguments that he went to at least one meeting. He
says he must have mixed up his dates on the slip that documents his attendance.

Vernon keeps interrupting the judge, trying to make the case, until the
judge gets fed up.

"Did I not ask you to listen?" Conway snaps.

"Yes, sir," Vernon says, as he pulls his hands behind his back and jumps to
attention.

"This is a direct violation of this court's order," the judge says. "You
did not do one meeting. You do not have an argument. For you to completely
ignore this order places you in contempt of court."

With the words "contempt of court," a sense of crisis jolts through the
room like electricity.

Few of the addicts have seen the judge so curt and irritated. They realize
this stark change in demeanor could foretell an ugly outcome for Vernon.
They move to the edges of the courtroom benches, all of them listening
intently and staring in disbelief.

Vernon, too, can feel that something has changed. He tenses visibly as the
judge continues his examination.

"Did you go to a meeting on Sunday?" Conway asks.

"No," Vernon answers.

"Did you go to a meeting on Monday?" the judge asks.

"That's when, I think, I went to a meeting," Vernon says.

"I don't think you went at all," Conway responds.

Vernon remembers when the judge revoked Aaron, and he's thinking about his
promise to run. He licks his lips and shifts his weight, as he tries to
collect his thoughts. Then he clasps his hands and holds them to his mouth
as if he's praying.

"I swear to God, I don't want you to think I'm trying to buck the program
and not listen to the court," he says finally. "I fell off focus."

His voice cracks as he pleads with the judge to give him another chance.

The judge asks Vernon whether going to just one meeting fulfills his order
to attend three.

Vernon hesitates for a moment before answering.

"Technically, no," he says. "Whatever I got to do to prove to you I ain't
trying to get over on no meetings ..."

The judge cuts him off abruptly with a decision that rings through the
courtroom like a gunshot.

"I find you in contempt," he says, "and I'm revoking your suspension."

Vernon is going to prison for good.

He falls to his haunches, grabs the front of his pant legs and lets out a
woeful groan.

"UHHHHHH. UHHHHHH."

Everyone is stunned, as if he had been killed before their eyes.

Jennifer, Linda and others start crying. Several of them have to leave the
room. Some of the men have their heads in their hands, their mouths hanging
open. Even Natale Ward, the Drug Court administrator, starts crying and
heads for the door.

Vernon stands, with tears filling his eyes, and asks in a shattered voice
whether he can turn himself in later so he can store his furniture. But the
judge has heard enough from Vernon. He tells him he'll have him gagged if
he says another word.

Vernon turns around and takes a long, hard look at the back door with eyes
wet with tears. The deputies are still gathering their leg irons and
paperwork on the other side of the room. He could make it out if he wants.
It may be his last taste of freedom in the next five years.

Instead, he wails.

"UHHHHHH!"

He clutches at his shirt and doubles over at the waist. As both deputies
position themselves behind him, Vernon's moans sound more and more angry,
like the cries of a trapped animal.

He stomps to the side door and slams it open. His howls echo down the
hallway leading to jail. They can still be heard after the door shuts
behind him.

"UHHHHHH! UHHHHHH!"