John Marsden - Circle of fight

Having considered carefully then all the issues raised in this case, I propose to make an order which may excite some public surprise and debate, but I have sat in this courtroom for nearly three days and heard a great deal of evidence. Counsel for the appellant has argued in his usual forceful and cogent way that courts must not be constrained by inflexible and old-fashioned approaches to family groupings, and that the intervention of the war must of necessity result in judicial recognition of new configurations that would not have been contemplated before the war. I have already made some reference to this earlier. I am convinced that this is a case where an imaginative approach to the welfare of a young boy who has no living relatives bar an infant sister living in a foster family is justified.

After all, what is the purpose of the law? It is a means by which we can live together. Nothing more than that. The young and the old, the rich and the poor, people of different skin colours, male and female: the law enables all of us to experience our lives without yielding to primitive impulses of greed and fear and prejudice, and without being subject to the primitive impulses of others. It seeks to prevent problems, or, if they have already occurred, to resolve them with fairness to all. It recognises that the past can only be visited; it cannot be changed. But insofar as is possible the law seeks to restore us all to the positions we were in before change was unfairly inflicted on us.

This young lad cannot be restored to his parents but he has found a family relationship by himself which suits him, which is apparently doing him no harm, and may well, according to the evidence of many witnesses I have listened to in this courtroom, be doing him some good. He and his mentor are no burden on society, rather they are useful contributors to it. The household which they have established, although located in an area made dangerous by terrorist activity, appears to be a successful one and they have been living in it without disturbance to their neighbours. And I use the word ‘neighbours’ in an abstract sense as well as a literal one.

I therefore make the following findings and orders: that both parents of this child are deceased, that in the absence of other relatives or appropriate persons his care now becomes a matter for the State, that the State will be properly carrying out its responsibilities for him by appointing the present appellant as his foster mother, and that this order will remain in effect until the appellant turns twenty-one, at which time she may apply for it to become a permanent adoption if she so wishes and if it is found to be an appropriate course at that time. I further order that the appellant agree and submit to the following conditions: firstly, that the environment in which the child is raised be so far as possible a safe one, and that to this end she ceases to live upon the farm property from which the child was kidnapped, and that she moves into Wirrawee or Stratton, as the appellant has indicated that she intends to do. This must be done within ninety days of this order being given. Secondly, that officers from the Department of Social Responsibility visit the family regularly for the purpose of inspecting the living conditions in which the child is kept, and that such inspections shall be at least once weekly for the first six months, and providing that the result of these inspections is satisfactory that they then be reduced in frequency to once a fortnight for the following six months, and thereafter at the Department’s discretion but not less than once every two months until the appellant turns 21. Thirdly, that the appellant so far as is within her powers ensures a satisfactory school attendance record for the child, and that she notifies the Department by 10 am on each and every day that the child is not attending school, and as to the reasons for his absence. And finally, that the appellant notifies the Department immediately of any change in the circumstances of her and/or the child, which might materially affect their welfare. So given, Stratton Court of Protective Services, order to take effect immediately.

Now, Miss Linton, do you understand what this means?

Someone get her a glass of water.

We’ll wait until you are able to compose yourself, Ellie. Take your time.

All right, now do you understand what this order means?

(Linton) Yes I think so Your Honour.

Well, your counsel will explain it all to you I am sure. But I am giving you custody of Gavin so long as you move into town and allow the officers from the Department to come and visit you every week. That’s for the first six months, but after that if things are going well you’ll see less of them.

Thank you sir, I mean Your Honour, thank you very much.

I’m sure you will do a very good job, as long as you comply with the conditions of the Court that I have set out today. And I’m sure you’ll find the people from the Department very helpful and nice to work with. You need have no fear of them.

Yes Your Honour, thank you Your Honour.

Well, good luck to you both. I hope things go better for you from now on. Court is now adjourned.

Court adjourned at 2.44 pm.

I’m outside the gates of St Bede’s. There’s a big sign, shabby, saying ‘Holy Cross Children’s Services’ and a whole lot of other stuff. Someone has tried to scratch out ‘Holy’ and write ‘Very’ on the sign but they didn’t do much of a job: it just looks like a lot of random scratches.

Lee and Pang and Phillip and Paul and Intira — they wanted to come too. They figure if we’re going to be living together in Stratton, one big happy family, they should be here now, but we’ll meet them at Maccas later. This is between me and Gavin.

The driveway is white gravel. All the kids in this place have jobs, and one of Gavin’s is to rake the drive every afternoon, to keep it clean. It looks like he hasn’t done it in a fortnight at least.

On previous visits I’ve left the ute outside and walked up the drive and today I’m doing the same thing. But this time the driveway seems impossibly long. I can’t bear to put off the reunion any longer, so I break into a jog.

Approaching the administration building I can see the usual activity, just like on the other visits. An old man mowing the lawn; his name is Bert, I think. A couple of boys playing soccer, using a rubbish bin as a goal. A man and woman waiting on the veranda: they’re dressed in their best gear. They could be parents of one of the kids here, or applying for a job or something. Who knows?

I avoid the office, even though you’re meant to check in there. Panting a little from the run up the drive I look around for Gavin. A boy named Morris, about the only kid Gavin has been friendly with, sees me and waves. ‘He’s around the back of the kitchen I think,’ he calls.

I wave back in thanks and hurry to the kitchen block. Trust Gavin to stay near the food, even if he does complain about the quality. But he’s nowhere to be seen and I start zigzagging around the shrubs, looking for him.

No luck. It’s so frustrating. All I want to do is rush up to him and tell him the news and then march away, the two of us together, towards freedom and a new life. But it’s a bit hard to do that when there’s only one of me. I’m torn, not knowing whether to continue searching or go to the office like I should have done in the first place.

I do one last big sweep around the front of the cabins and then go up the rise towards the boundary fence. And there’s a little figure sitting on a swing, with his back to me, the swing just drifting backwards and forwards, as he drags his feet in the dirt. My eyes fill for a moment at the loneliness of him. But there is one person who can help him a little bit, maybe, with his loneliness, and so I run up the slope. No use calling his name, and I don’t want to startle him by rushing up behind him with no warning so I do a bit of a circuit that brings me into his circle of flight. He’s always had great peripheral vision. He lifts his head and looks at me, then cocks his head to one side. ‘What’s going on?’ I know he’s asking himself. ‘This is a strange time for her to be here.’