Chapter 8
Sunday was the day I started the battle for my custody. Clint and I both dressed in suits. Clint wore a purple tie with his, making sure he looked as professional as possible. I wore a waist coat with my suit, but no tie in case I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I knew that eventually I might have to talk to the judge, but it was a scary thought. All of this was scary. Gecko had sent me a link to a simple, easy to understand website about what to expect at family court. Clint had been visited by a caseworker while I was at school on Thursday and I had a meeting with my appointed lawyer in a fancy café during my lunch period on Friday. My case wasn’t being appointed a guardian ad litem since I was 17. I knew that Clint and both my grandparents were going to be witnesses as well as Mrs Abernathy, who my grandparents had wanted to testify hopefully in their favour. I also packed what I owned into one of Clint’s old duffels. I didn’t have much to my name; just some new clothes and pjs and my school work that I had in my backpack on the day of the bomb. Even the suit I had on for the court hearing was new – I had gone shopping the Wednesday after my first day back at school to get some new clothes. Clint got me from my room at 11:30am and we were at the courthouse in Queens by noon. We were quickly ushered into a courtroom. My lawyer was waiting for me in the second row behind Clint’s table. I went to sit next to my lawyer while Clint went to sit at his table with his lawyer. My grandparents, and their lawyer, were sitting at the other table. Mrs Abernathy had yet to arrive and there were a few people that I didn’t recognise. The doors to the courtroom we were in closed at 12:15 after, to my surprise, Tony Stark walked in. He sat a few rows behind me and Clint. Mrs Abernathy had arrived at 12:10 and sat right at the back on my grandparents’ side. Everyone in the court room stood up as the judge presiding my case. The judge sat down and called the session into order. I watched as Clint was called to the stand first. He swore an oath to tell nothing but the truth to those attending court and the judge.
“Mr Barton, when did you first meet Abigail Jackson?”
“I meet Abigail when she was 12 years old. I had a part time job at the archery range she went to,”
“And what was your relationship with Abigail then?”
“I was her mentor. I trained her – well enough that she could have been nationally ranked in archery if she wanted to. I taught her how to properly wield a bow, throw a throwing knife and get pin point accuracy with her slingshot,”
“Am I correct in saying that Abigail did not want to be nationally ranked in archery?”
“Yes. Abigail told me that when the aliens invaded New York that she had killed three aliens with a slingshot that she owned and that she would rather be able to defend herself than have her three kills be flukes. I never pushed her into competitions or getting nationally ranked.”
“And what do you do now for a living Mr Barton?”
“I work at Stark Industries in their Research and Development department. I’m handy when it comes to electrical wiring,”
“Is it correct that Abigail also works at Stark Industries as an intern?”
“Abigail does have an internship. I was one of her referees when she applied for it. We don’t usually cross paths when she works, but the guys at the testing stations love having her trial anything they’re working on, so I do occasionally see her,”
“And Abigail’s parents, Alex and Nora, are okay with your involvement in Abigail’s life?”
“Alex or Nora would pick Abigail up from the archery range. Abigail would be adamant in tidying up everything she used as well as taking proper care of any bow she borrowed from the range. I often got to talk to her parents while we waited for Abigail. Alex and I became close friends and Nora was always asking me to come over to their place or dinner and to bring my wife and children with me,”
“And did you ever accept Nora’s requests for dinner?”
“I’ve been to quite a few dinners made by Nora. Likewise, the Jackson family have stayed at my family’s homestead occasionally. Abigail babysits my daughter, Lila, and my two sons, Cooper and Nathaniel when my wife, Laura, and I have date nights,” The lawyers took their time picking apart Clint’s story and life. There were bits that Clint couldn’t give the truth but had come up with reasonable explanations for things like why he lived in New York while his family lived on a farm and why their farm wasn’t registered. Then my grandparents took the stand one by one. They left out parts about how we had a shouting match over my sexual orientation and gender identity and how they had rudely disrespected Clint. I got really angry at it. My lawyer noticed it and whispered to me that I would be able to say my own piece towards the end. After my grandparents’ testimonies, the judge called a 15-minute recess. My lawyer took me to grab a hot drink and a chocolate muffin at a bakery just down the road from court house. When everyone was back from recess, Mrs Abernathy had a chance to take the stand. She didn’t make it clear which she was taking, but always returned to the point that whatever decision the judge made must be made in way that would help my mental health after my loss of family. Tony took the stand after Mrs Abernathy.
“I was the one who employed Clint Barton at Stark Industries,” He told those present in court “I may not be a major part of Stark Industries, but I still like to visit the Research and Development department when I can. Clint is a hard worker. I can’t really say anything else on that matter since it will probably spoil some trade secrets. I’ve also had the pleasure to meet Abigail. Her work ethic is admirable – no doubt that it has come from the countless hours spent honing her skills at that archery range,” The lawyers asked more questions and Tony answered them making sure that it was clear that Clint was the person he had chosen to stand behind. After Tony, the caseworker talked about what they had learnt about both Clint and my grandparents. Their job was to only report what they had seen during their visits. The caseworker did mention that she had no real way to truly confirm anything my grandparents had told her due to the fact that they were from Dallas, Texas and not New York. Once the casework was done, she was able to leave the stand.
“Now we will hear from Miss Jackson,” The judge said. I took in a deep breath to try to stop my hammering heart. I stood up and straighten my waist coat and jacket before making my way to the stand.
The bailiff presented me with a bible. I placed my right hand on it and raised my left.
“Do you swear to tell the absolute truth?” The bailiff asked.
“I do,”
“You may be seated,” The bailiff said. I took my seat. One of the many lawyers in the courtroom came towards me.
“Can you please state your full name and date of birth?” She asked.
“Abigail Joanna Jackson. 24th of August 2000,” I reply.
“Thank you, Miss Jackson,” The lawyer said, “Can you please tell me of your relationship with Mr Barton?”
“Clint happened to be working at the archery range that I found would let me use a slingshot and paintballs for a cheap membership rate. He saw my talent and gave me proper training. My mum often invited Clint over for dinner, even told him to come with his wife and children. He became my mentor, not just with archery. My dad also built a strong relationship with Clint. I’ve babysat Lila, Cooper and Nathaniel for a few years now. Clint also became my emergency contact a few years ago in case of an emergency and my parents couldn’t be reached. He’s the one that my school, Midtown Science and Technology, called when our apartment building got blown up. Clint’s been there for me more than anyone else,”
“And what about your relationship with your grandparents?”
“It’s… not good. The last time we saw each other in person was when I was 10. We went down to Dallas for Grandad’s 70th birthday. We just haven’t had a lot of money or the time to go back. I don’t know what my grandparents’ excuse for not coming to see us is. It probably has to do with the fact that they stopped reply to my emails about two years ago. I still got birthday and Christmas cards from them, but nothing else. I don’t know if they had any contact with Mum, Dad or Oscar,”
“Do you have any idea why your grandparents stopped replying?”
“I suppose it had something to do with the fact that my last email I sent to my grandparents was about how I was in love with a girl and that I was bisexual,” I say, “What my grandparents also forgot to mention was the verbal fight we had about the day of my family’s funeral because not only am I bi, I’m non-binary. Although my gender identity and sexual orientation didn’t start the fight, it surely ended it,” The courtroom fell into silence. My grandparents shuffled in their seats uncomfortably. I heard someone cough.
“So… your opinion does hold some sway in the judge’s decision due to you being 17 years old. Who would you like to live with?” The lawyer asked.
“Hands down Clint Barton. The two choices are living with people who hate who I am and living with someone who loves and cares for me. I’d be an idiot to say I want to live with my grandparents. But that’s not the only reason I want to live with Clint. The next school year will be my senior year. It would be awkward to switch schools now – I have a good set of friends with Lara, Harriet and Freya and I’ve made a few new friends over the past week or two. I don’t want to risk losing those friendships. I also like living in New York too much to give it up now,”
“Thank you, Miss Jackson,” The lawyer said, “I’m sorry for your loss,”
“Thanks,” I said. The lawyer walked away, and I got up from the stand. I walked back to the seating area and sat next to my lawyer.
“I will make my judgement tomorrow, it’s getting late,” The judge said, “I want everyone back in this courtroom at 9am,”
“Uhh… I can’t make it tomorrow I have a Spanish make up test for the one I missed last week,” I whisper to my lawyer. My lawyer nods and stands up.
“Excuse me your honour, my client, Miss Jackson, cannot make it at the time you have suggested. She informs me that she has a Spanish make up test,”
“You speak Spanish Miss Jackson?”
“Si señor. Je parle français aussi,” I reply
“Very well then, we will take a five-minute recess while I make my decision,”
The five-minute recess took forever. I sat with my lawyer nervously outside the court room. Five minutes turned into ten, and then eventually fifteen. One of the bailiffs called us back into the court room with everyone taking their original positions. Because we all knew that the judge would be proclaiming who had my custody, my grandparents, Clint, myself and our respective lawyers remained standing. The judge returned from his chambers and sat down on his seat.
“It the case of the custody of Abigail Joanna Jackson, I give full legal custody to Clinton Francis Barton however, Mr Barton and Miss Jackson’s grandparents will have to attend mediating sessions to work out visitation rights for Mr and Mrs Jackson,” I let out a deep breath. Clint turned around and smiled and nodded. He turned back around and shook hands with his lawyer. I looked over towards my grandparents. My grandmother had some tears in her eyes, but otherwise my grandparents didn’t look too upset with the outcome.
“Court is adjourned,” And with the sound of a gavel hitting wood, the major part of my custody battle was over. Clint was my legal guardian. I got what I needed.