O'Brien's Desk - Ona Russell

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try, God knows I try, Kenneth,” Sarah answered, “and I’m sure, when Winifred returns—”

      “Winifred gone?” Kenneth frowned in mocked concern. “Left him already? Well, where is she, my good man?”

      “Winifred is visiting relatives, if you must know, Ken,” O’Brien snapped. “But I must say if there’s anything I dislike, it’s being talked about in the third person. Everyone is so worried about how I look these days, but the truth is I feel great. In fact, I’ve never felt better. So, please, let’s put that topic to rest. Anyway, Sarah, aren’t you interested in knowing what these men are doing here? You seemed to be exceptionally so a minute ago.”

      For the second time today, O’Brien had purposefully steered the conversation away from himself . . . and from his wife. Although she and Kenneth had only been half teasing, Sarah knew better than to push any further. Nevertheless, she registered the move as yet another sign that the judge did indeed bear watching.

      “Well, yes, I am a bit curious,” she conceded.

      “Actually, it’s not as mysterious as it seems, at least from my perspective.” O’Dwyer’s raspy voice startled all of them, but each seemed willing to let him do the explaining.

      “I came to see the trial like so many other Toledoans, Miss Kaufman; it’s as simple as that. And from what I understand, Mr.

      Ballard came for the same reason.” Kenneth nodded.

      “And, like myself, Ballard sought out the judge after the trial to commend him on the courage of his decision. Of course, I have to admit, I was initially taken aback by it. Uh, perhaps you even heard me in court, uh, express my, uh, surprise,” he added with an embarrassed grin.

      They all exchanged knowing glances, and O’Dwyer continued. “Well, after court, Ballard and I caught up with O’Brien at the same time, and got to talking about the November election. Now, what I’ve told the judge is that I’m ready to let bygones be bygones. More than that, I want to work for his campaign. I like what he’s done for this city, and I think he has shown himself to be a real man today. And Ballard here said that if someone such as myself can undergo such a radical change, why he might even become more political and do a bit of work for the campaign as well.” Kenneth smiled broadly.

      “And, that’s where you came in, Sarah,” O’Brien said, gently rocking on his stocky legs.

      Sarah nodded but was anything but convinced. She would have been delighted if O’Dwyer had really had a change of heart, but she didn’t believe it. At the very least, he would want something from Obee in return for his forgiveness and support. And Kenneth would ultimately renege on his offer. He had been inspired to work for Obee’s campaign before, but had never followed through because he just didn’t have the interest or the personality that such work required. His intentions were good, and he was certainly one of Obee’s most devoted friends. But his enthusiasm would soon wane. Furthermore, why had either man come to the sentencing in the first place? Even though it was an important case for the city, O’Dwyer usually only appeared at events of a much grander scale, and Kenneth had just never cared enough. Of course, O’Brien wouldn’t be thinking of any of these things now. No, now he would be reveling in the comradery of the moment. Later, he would come to his senses and remember O’Dwyer’s cutthroat reputation and Kenneth’s fickleness, but for now he would be enjoying the bond between men caught up in a common cause. And the fact that the cause was O’Brien himself would make the experience all the better.

       For the time being, Sarah would do nothing to spoil O’Brien’s pleasure. A positive attitude would help the judge through the challenging meetings scheduled for the afternoon. Besides, any warning she might offer would pale in comparison to his own eventual self-recriminations. All too aware of his gullible nature, in the light of day O’Brien would realize he had fallen prey to it again. Therefore, during lunch, which he agreed to have with her once his guests took their leave, Sarah restricted the conversation to mostly glowing remarks about his handling of the Cavender case. The only exception came with the topic of Lulu Carey. Initially, Sarah, too, simply thought the woman was mad. All those obscene letters to city and state officials. Including the Governor! But she now thought differently and felt compelled to speak her mind.

      “Obee, before you and Dr. Miller decide to commit Miss Carey, I must tell you that if the Housewives League ever discovers your failure to act on the content of some of those letters, you’ll never hear the end of it. They’ll have your head before the election.”

      O’Brien blinked and started to respond, but Sarah stopped him. She knew what he was going to say. A few years earlier the League had charged him with railroading persons into the insane asylum, calling his commitment proceedings as “nothing less than a farce.” The accusation had deeply wounded him. Occasionally, he might have been a bit over-zealous, but nothing was more important to him than improving conditions for the mentally ill. He was the only Progressive— indeed, nearly the only person—in town who advocated the building of a new psychiatric clinic and who tirelessly argued for patient rehabilitation. Still, the League was powerful, and Sarah sensed that the morning’s events had put the judge in a receptive mood. She needed to take advantage of it.

      “Please Obee, please let me finish.”

      “All right, Sarah. Go ahead, my dear.”

      “Thank you. Now, I agree that some of what is in those letters sounds a little crazy. But, the ones where Lulu writes about her husband repeatedly striking her have got to be taken seriously. It may very well be that this abuse she describes has significantly contributed to her illness, if not caused it entirely. At the very least, I think you should find a way to have the husband questioned; this would satisfy the League and perhaps help this young woman more than long walks on the hospital’s grounds. I’m not saying she doesn’t need help or even confinement, Obee, but wouldn’t it be better if you at least investigated these allegations before locking her up?”

      O’Brien took the remaining bite of his Roquefort salad. Judging by the agonizingly long time he took to chew it, she surmised that he was probably carefully considering how to phrase a dismissive retort. But, when finally he put down his fork, placed his napkin neatly back on his lap, and slowly raised his large, kindly eyes, his expression told her before he uttered a word that she had made an impression. “Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. You are certainly getting feisty these days.” O’Brien paused, repositioned his glasses, and stared at her in a somewhat bemused fashion, as would a father who suddenly realized his young daughter had grown up.

      “But of course, you’re right,” he conceded. “I do think you have something there. I sometimes can’t see the forest for the trees, you know. Maybe I need a new prescription for these old things,” he added with a laugh, removing his glasses altogether. He paused and stared at her again. Drumming softly on the table, he leaned in close. “Listen, Sarah, I’ll tell you what. I’ll suggest to Miller that we hold off on commitment until we can find out what’s going on with that husband of hers. In the meantime, you might want to visit Miss Carey yourself. She could probably use a sympathetic female ear about now, and you may be able to discover something the police can’t.”

      “I’d be happy to” Sarah said, careful not to appear too smug.

      “It’s good that you’re taking this seriously, Obee. I really think you’re doing the right thing for your career, not to mention Miss Carey and possibly other women like her. Now, let’s finish our lunch, shall we? Your meeting with Miller is in twenty minutes.”

      “Quite right, my dear,” he said, checking his pocket watch.

      “I’m glad one of us is keeping track of the time.”

      “That’s what I’m here for,” Sarah said. But as she sliced into her roasted chicken that had long since grown cold, she silently replaced “what” with “all” and was momentarily saddened that the remark was now closer to the truth.

       Carrying off his remaining business successfully, O’Brien’s spirits remained uplifted throughout the afternoon. Things

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