Monday, December 2nd, 2019, Morning

It was seven-twenty on Monday morning and the first school day after the Thanksgiving holiday. Vincent had driven Elizabeth and Baxter to school. At twelve-fifty, he would take her to the optomitrist for her annual eye checkup, then return her to Walnut Creek Intermediate School. As usual, she’d take the bus home. Then he would return to Las Lomas High to teach his last two classes. After the school day ended, Vincent would drive Baxter home with him.

Baxter’s last class was seventh period PE. Today they were having a health lecture instead of an actual gym class, so he’d be ready to leave when he heard the bell announcing the end of the school day.

“Thanks for the ride, Pop,” he said as he got out of Vincent’s SUV. ”I’ll see you around three-twenty in room 201.”

“Have a good day, Baxter. I need to hurry. I have a quiz to copy for my first class. I’m also sure that I’ll have some students wanting to see me before class to make excuses why they don’t have their homework that’s due today.” He waved then walked toward building 500.

Baxter walked from the faculty parking lot to the library. He always found it an excellent place to read and study because he wouldn’t be interrupted. Since it was Monday, his first class was English 1, and it didn’t start until eight thirty-five. That gave him over forty-five minutes for the two things he needed to do before school. Both were assignments he’d worked on over the Thanksgiving week holiday.

First, he wanted to review the problem set they’d been assigned in his fourth period Geometry Honors class. He wanted to make sure his solutions were correct before turning them in. He looked them over and didn’t find any errors.

Second, there was an exam in his sixth period Living Earth class that covered three chapters from their textbook. He wanted to make sure he was ready, so he reread the chapters and the notes he’d taken in class. When he finished he felt he was ready.

At ten minutes before eight, Baxter closed his Living Earth textbook and left the library. He planned to meet up with friends before his first period class.

As he approached the quad, he noticed a skinny, middle-aged woman standing on the sidewalk ahead of him, blocking his path. She looked familiar and was staring at him. As he stepped off the sidewalk to get around her, she called out, “Baxter Choi?”

He stopped and glared at her. “Yes. Who are you, and what do you want?”

“My name is Carol Brown. I’m with CPS. There are some problems with your adoption paperwork, and it needs to be reviewed and signed. You’ll have to come with me to the CPS office in Pleasant Hill. We’ll return you to school afterward.”

“Why isn’t Mrs. Taylor, my caseworker, taking care of this?”

“You are now assigned to me. I’m your new caseworker. Mrs. Taylor is on her way to Sacramento on a new job assignment.”

Baxter just stood where he was on the grass next to the sidewalk. He noticed a black SUV in the visitor parking lot. A fat man in a black suit was standing next to the driver’s side door. Baxter thought he looked familiar, and then he remembered that he’d been sitting next to the guy who got up and objected to his adoption. He also remembered that the name of the guy who’d objected was Keith Jackman. And this Mrs. Brown was skinny just like the woman who’d been sitting with them in the courtroom.

Mrs. Brown grabbed Baxter’s arm and pulled, so he was forced to step onto the sidewalk. He jerked his arm out of her grasp. “Let go of me!” he shouted.

“Calm down! I have a car ready to take us to the CPS office.” She pointed to the SUV. “You’ll be back by lunchtime.”

Baxter saw the fat man who’d been standing next to the SUV was hurrying toward him and Mrs. Brown. He also saw a school security officer coming in their direction.

She tried to grab Baxter’s arm again, but he pulled away and backed up several feet away from her so she couldn’t reach him without moving, and increasing his distance from where the fat guy was heading toward them.

“Mrs. Taylor is my caseworker, not you. She would have let me know if she would be replaced, and it wouldn’t have happened so fast. And she would have told me when I talked to her on the phone last night.” That wasn’t the truth, but Baxter didn’t consider it a lie because what she said was more than a lie — this woman was trying to kidnap him! He wasn’t going with her without a fight. A fight he intended to win.

The fat man from the SUV and the school security officer arrived at almost the same time.

“Carol, we have to get moving!” the fat man bellowed.

“What’s going on here?” the school security officer demanded. His badge listed his name: Officer Richard Knox.

Mrs. Brown replied, “There’s a problem with Baxter Choi’s adoption paperwork. I have to take him to the CPS office in Pleasant Hill to review the paperwork and make sure our information has been corrected, and then he’ll have to sign it. We’ll return him to school later today after that’s been completed.”

The fat man announced in a booming voice, “I was asked to bring Mrs. Brown here from CPS and drive her and Baxter Choi back to the CPS office.” He pointed at Baxter. “I assume this is Baxter Choi?”

“I’m not going anywhere with them. Only one of my fathers, Rob and Vincent Choi, or my caseworker, Betty Taylor, is authorized to take me from school,” Baxter growled. He turned to Officer Knox, “Besides, I don’t think these two people are really from CPS. She’s lying about being my caseworker. Besides, since I’ve been adopted I don’t have a caseworker from CPS anymore. She’s trying to kidnap me! Officer Knox, please call the police!”

That resulted in Mrs. Brown, the fat man, and Baxter shouting at each other, resulting in a cacophony of noise that no one could have understood.

“All of you keep quiet!” Officer Knox shouted. That succeeded.

“Now, one at a time, I want to have each of you tell me who you are and what is going on. First, you,” he pointed to Baxter, “I want to know your name and who you are.”

“My name is Baxter Choi. Here’s my student ID card. I’m a freshman here at Las Lomas High School. Robert and Vincent Choi have adopted me; Vincent Choi is an English teacher here at Las Lomas High. This …woman claims to be my new CPS caseworker, but she’s not my caseworker. She’s lying. I’m not going anywhere with her, and I know that I don’t have to.”

“Thank you. Next, you.” He pointed at Mrs. Brown.

“My name is Carol Brown. I’m with Child Protective Services. Here’s my CPS identification card. I’m Baxter Choi’s new caseworker. I’m here to take him to the CPS office in Pleasant Hill to go over his adoption paperwork and correct some glaring errors and get his signature. And I say he does have to come with me.”

“Thank you. Now, you.” He pointed to the fat man.

“My name is Desmond Wentworth. I’m Mrs. Brown’s driver.”

“Alright. First, Mr. Wentworth, is that your black SUV parked illegally in a handicapped parking place?”

“Yes, it is. Sorry about that. There wasn’t any other space.”

“Alright, I want you to return to your vehicle, get in, and move it to a visitor parking space that isn’t a handicapped space. I can see at least three available spaces which you should have been able to find when you arrived. After you’ve moved your car, turn off your engine and stay in your car until I’m done here."

“You want me to do this now?” Mr. Wentworth asked.

“Yes, immediately now. Please. Otherwise, I’ll call the towing company the school district uses and have your car towed. You have two minutes to comply.”

Mr. Wentworth turned and walked back to the black SUV, opened the driver’s side door, got in, and drove to an empty non-handicapped visitor space. He remained in the car, but with the driver’s-side door open.

“Now, as for you, Mrs. Brown. You cannot remove any child from the Las Lomas High School campus without obtaining a written permit from the attendance office. You can get the permit if you have the required paperwork signed by your manager that explains why Baxter Choi has to be taken from the campus. That’s something you should have known if you were actually with CPS. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Where’s the attendance office, if I may ask?”

“It’s over there,” he said, pointing off to his right, “at the other end of building 100. This is building 100, the administration offices for Las Lomas High School. You’re standing in front of it right now. When you turn around, look to your right. The entrance for the attendance office is at that end of the building. It’s clearly marked. You need to go there now to get an off-campus permit for Baxter Choi.”

“Alright. Seems like a lot of bother, but we have our rules, you have your rules.” She glared at Baxter. “Come along, Baxter. Let’s get that permission slip, and we can be on our way.”

They heard the 8:30 a.m. bell, announcing that first period classes would start in five minutes.

“No! I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m going to class. I can refuse to be taken out of school by anyone other than my parents or the police.” He looked at Officer Knox. “That’s correct, isn’t it?”

“That is correct, Baxter.”

“That’s ridiculous! Now, you come with me,” she hissed with her teeth clenched.

Mrs. Brown grabbed Baxter’s arm and held it so tight he couldn’t pull away.

“Let me go, or you’ll wish you had let me go!” Baxter growled at her, as he tried, unsuccessfully, to pull away.

“You are coming with me now!” she screeched.

Officer Knox was about to intervene, but before he could say or do anything, Baxter kicked Mrs. Brown in her left ankle, hard, with his right foot. That made her release his arm and shriek in pain. She almost lost her balance but regained it time to shout, “You little faggot!” Then she snarled, “You’ll be sorry!” She moved in Baxter’s direction so she could grab him again. Officer Knox intervened. “Don’t touch him!” he shouted. That worked.

As soon as he had kicked her, Baxter had jogged about ten feet away and shouted, “I’m not going with you anywhere, ever! I’m going to my class!” He turned, and he ran off toward building 500, Language Arts.

Officer Knox moved in front of her. “You’re either going to the school office, by yourself, submit documents that validate your need to take Baxter Choi from the campus, and get a permit. Or, you’re going to leave this campus. Or, you can wait for the police to arrive. Make your choice, and do it now!”

“I’m going to sue the school district and you personally,” Mrs. Brown hollered, pointing her finger at him.

“I’ll be more than happy to have you do that. I have the entire confrontation between you and Baxter Choi and me on video, and it has audio, too. Like the Walnut Creek police, we have body cameras, and we always use them when there’s any situation on campus. If you want to sue, you can have your attorney take that up with the school district’s legal department. I’ll be turning the video over to them and to the Walnut Creek Police Department as well. It will be up to the school district and the district attorney to decide if you’ll be charged.”

Mrs. Brown glared at him and stormed off. Not toward the office but to the black SUV occupied by Desmond Wentworth. Officer Knox watched them leave the campus, recording their departure on his body camera. He also wrote down the license plate number on a pad of paper.

Baxter got to his first period class, English 1. He was early, and no other students had arrived yet.

He approached Ms. Carpenter. She was young and friendly, and Baxter liked her and her teaching style.

“Hi, Ms. Carpenter. I have a problem. Can I talk about it with you?”

“Certainly, Baxter. What’s your problem?”

“I’m afraid I might be in danger. I was adopted, and it was finalized in November. Just now someone claiming to be my CPS caseworker tried to force me to leave school with her. She wasn’t anyone I knew, and I don’t have a CPS caseworker since I’ve been adopted, so I refused to go with her. Officer Knox saw us arguing and made her and a guy who said he was her driver leave the campus. He made a video of what happened, and he called the police and will talk to them when they arrive. I need to call my real CDSS caseworker and let her know what happened. May I make the call now, from here, using my cellphone?”

“Yes, Baxter, you may. I suggest that you take a seat in the back row near the windows so you can do it confidentially. You need to finish your call by the time you hear the bell because class will begin shortly after that.”

“Thank you; I should be able to finish by then.”

Baxter took the seat in the back row next to the windows and placed the call. When he was connected, he asked for Mrs. Betty Taylor. After three rings, she answered the call.

“This is Betty Taylor at Child Protective Services. How may I help you?”

He spoke rapidly, almost without any pauses in what he was telling her. “Mrs. Taylor, this is Baxter Choi. A woman, Carol Brown, with CPS badge number C17186, tried to take me off-campus. She was with a man, Desmond Wentworth, and they looked like the ones who were sitting in the back of the courtroom at my adoption hearing. She claimed she was my new CPS caseworker, except I don’t have a CPS caseworker anymore because my adoption has been finalized, and I think I still have you but as my CDSS caseworker.

“Anyway, she said there was a problem with my adoption papers, and that she had to take me to the CPS office in Pleasant Hill so what she called glaring errors in my adoption papers had to be corrected and I’d have to sign them. That sounded totally bogus to me. You said that if I needed to be taken somewhere from the Las Lomas campus, it had to be you or one of my fathers or the police.

“So, I think she was trying to kidnap me. She kept grabbing my arm, and I kept pulling out of her grip. Finally, she grabbed me real hard, so I had to kick her in the ankle to make her let go. She left a bruise on my arm where she grabbed me. I tried to take a selfie picture of it with my phone, but it didn’t work because it’s on my right arm, and I couldn’t reach it to take one that wasn’t out of focus.

“The school security officer was there watching what was going on. I heard him tell her she had to leave and that he has video and audio of her trying to kidnap me.

“Then I came to my first class. That’s where I am now. My teacher said I could call you before the class starts. Do you know what was going on?” That was a lot for him to say, he said it so fast he almost ran out of breath.

“Baxter, you absolutely should not go with that woman. She did work here but was fired about four months ago for proselytizing. What that means is she tried to convince gay kids in the foster system that they were living in sin and needed therapy to change from gay to straight. She’s a member of a homophobic anti-gay religious organization. She was trying to identify teenage clients, like you, who are gay. She…”

Baxter interrupted. “How did she find out that I’m gay?”

“Unfortunately, she had access to the records when she was working here. It appears that during that short time, she searched our files for kids in the foster system who self-identified as gay or bisexual. Your paperwork has the ‘Gay’ box checked under sexuality.”

“That’s too bad, but I’m still glad I checked the ‘Gay’ box. That’s what I am, and I don’t lie. It would have been a lie if I’d checked any of the other choices. And the good part is that because I’d checked that box, Vincent and Rob Choi were able to meet me, and they adopted me and are my parents now.”

“I agree, Baxter. Always be true to yourself. Anyway, Carol Brown signed a binding confidentiality agreement when CPS hired her. That agreement has serious consequences for violations. I think it’s obvious that she has violated it again today. To proceed, I need to talk to the school security officer. Do you know his name?”

“Yes. It’s Officer Richard Knox. I can tell you his cellphone number and email address, too.” When she said she was ready to write it down, he read the information from Officer Knox’s business card.

“Thank you. Now, first thing, I’m going to call both Vincent Choi and Robert Choi and have one of them come to school and pick you up from the front office. For your safety, do not walk off-campus without one of your dads or me. Then…”

Baxter interrupted her again. “I came to school with Vincent since he’s a teacher here at Las Lomas. He’s driving me home after school, so I’ll see him at about 3:20.

“His office hours are from 12:50 to 1:25. You can call and leave a message. I’m sure he’ll return your call. Anyway, I’ll tell him about what happened when I go home with him.”

“That sounds like a better solution, so I won’t need to call him. Here’s what I will do.

“First, I’m going to phone the Las Lomas High School attendance office and put them on notice that you can be taken from school only by either Robert or Vincent Choi or by me. The police can take you off-campus, too; that’s required, but only if they have legal cause or a court order.

“Second, I’ll phone Officer Knox and talk to him about his encounter with Carol Brown and the way she manhandled you, and ask him to send me a copy of the bodycam video and audio files he recorded.

“Third, I’ll file a complaint with the Contra Costa County District Attorney charging Carol Brown with violating her Child Protective Services confidentiality agreement, impersonating a CPS caseworker, improper use of her hands on a minor not under her care, and attempted kidnapping. If we can make the attempted kidnapping charge stick, that’s the most serious charge because it would be a felony.

“Baxter, I don’t want you to be too frightened, but I think these individuals can be dangerous. I’d like you to be vigilant and watch out for yourself. Your adoptive parents will be involved and watching out for you as well. Okay?”

“Okay, thanks. I figured it was something like what you described, except for the homophobic religious organization part. Does that mean it’s some sort of church?”

“Yes. They call it ‘The Church of the Only True Light.’ Desmond Wentworth is the pastor of that church. Their only goal is to convert gay children by using what they call conversion therapy. This so-called therapy is illegal to use on anyone under 18 in California. The opponents of this law took the case to the U.S. Supreme Court and lost their appeal. The California law was left intact and is in effect right now. What they do is kidnap children, prepare fake paperwork, and take them to Arizona where conversion therapy is legal.”

“Wow! This is serious, isn’t it. I’ll be cautious. I’ll talk to my fathers to find out if I can get a GPS tracker implanted in case they kidnap me.”

“I don’t know how that would work or how effective it would be. Let me know if you get such a tracker, okay?”

“I will. Thanks, Mrs. Taylor. Oh… I just thought of something else. I’ll email you a picture that shows the bruise on my arm. Okay, I just heard the bell for first period, so I’ll have to end the call now.”

“Have a good day at school, and be careful. Goodbye for now, Baxter.”

“Thanks, I will have a good day, and I’ll talk to you later. I plan on being very careful. Bye.”

Baxter walked up to Ms. Carpenter’s desk and thanked her. He showed the teacher his bruise.

“I want to take a picture of my bruise and send it to Officer Knox. Is that okay?”

“Yes, it is. If you’d like, I’ll take a few pictures of your arm with your cellphone.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Baxter handed Ms. Carpenter his phone, and she took the pictures and showed them to Baxter.

“They’re great. Can I send one of them to Officer Knox and my CDSS caseworker now?”

“Yes. Go to your regular seat and do it as quickly as you can. The other students have started to arrive.”

Baxter emailed the pictures, then put his phone in his pocket and listened as Ms. Carpenter started her lecture about compound sentences.

He went to each of his other Monday block classes and was alert when walking across campus. He was cautious, but not freaked by what happened. Instead, he was angry about it and hoped that Mrs. Brown would be arrested. Then he could testify against her in court. ‘Revenge would be sweet,’ he thought.

Baxter had taken jujitsu and taekwondo classes when he was a preteen and, for his age, was highly ranked in both. If they tried to kidnap him again, he would put up a good fight.

His fifth period Digital Design class was in room 205 just before lunch. Baxter asked Mr. Farinholdt if he could leave right at the bell for the end of fifth period because he had to see Vincent Choi in the English Department office during his lunch period. He got permission, and Mr. Farinholdt suggested he take a seat near the rear exit from the classroom so he could leave quickly.

When he heard the bell for the end of fifth period, he was up and out of the classroom and hurrying across campus to the English office in room 510.

He was the first to arrive, so he sat in a desk at the back of the classroom. After about two minutes, Vincent walked in. Baxter walked to his desk at the front of the classroom.

“Hi, Baxter. Is there a problem?”

“Yes.” He explained how Carol Brown had accosted him; he included all of the critical details. “I suggested that I get a GPS tracker so you can find me in case they kidnap me. Mrs. Taylor thought that it was a good idea if it would work.”

“I have an idea, Baxter. My seventh period class is in room 201. Why don’t you come there after your last class, and you can hang around and do homework or read or whatever while I’m organizing what I need to take home.”

“Yeah… that’s a better plan than going to the administration office and waiting for you there. I have PE seventh period, but we have a health lecture today, and it’s in room 202 — that’s right across from room 201, isn’t it?”

Vincent nodded.

“What class do you teach seventh period?” Baxter asked.

“Creative Writing.”

“Oh… that’s cool. That’s one of the classes I want to take next year. You know, if I had a permission slip, I could be excused from PE just for today, walk to room 201 instead, and observe your class.” He looked at Vince, raised his eyebrows to look innocent, but couldn’t keep from grinning.

Vincent chuckled. “I think that would be difficult. You see, you would need someone to fill out and sign a permission slip for you to skip PE. I don’t know anyone who’d do that for you. And I don’t think you know anyone who would do it for you, either.”

“So, that means you’re not going to write me a permission slip, doesn’t it,” Baxter retorted, pouting.

“Your dad and I are always impressed by how quickly you catch on. You’re right, and I am not writing a permission slip for you. Go to your PE health lecture, then after it’s over, come to room 201 — as you said, it is right across from room 202 — and we’ll go home from there.”

Baxter slouched and tried to look disappointed, but he was sure that he hadn’t succeeded. “Okay, Pop. I’ll see you right after school, then.” He let out a big sigh, making sure Vincent could hear him.

‘Well, I guess that didn’t work,’ he thought as he left the English office and headed to the cafeteria. Then he grinned and laughed. Kids wondered what was so funny when they saw him laughing while walking across the quad.

Vincent looked out the window of room 510 and grinned. He watched Baxter walking on the sidewalk toward the cafeteria and laughing. He’d have to tell Baxter not to bother taking drama as an elective because he was definitely not a believable actor. Though, maybe he’d make a passable stand-up comedian.

Monday, December 2nd, 2019, After School

The story Baxter had told Mrs. Taylor and Vincent about Carol Brown had to be repeated when Rob got home, and that’s when Elizabeth also heard it. She looked concerned; she decided that she would talk to her fathers about it later.

“Dad, one night at dinner, you were talking about putting GPS trackers in a client’s computers so they could be tracked if they were stolen. I’d like one of those implanted in me, so if that Carol Brown kidnaps me, you could find me.”

Rob sat for a while, thinking about Baxter’s proposal. Finally, he looked at his son. “I don’t think there’s any GPS tracker that could be implanted in your body. And if there is, it would be prohibitively expensive.”

“But they put them in dogs and cats so they can find them.”

“Those aren’t GPS trackers. They are tiny RFID — that means Radio Frequency Identification — microchips, and a veterinarian uses a large hypodermic needle to implant it under an animal’s skin. Each chip has a serial number listed in the microchip maker’s online database. The database has the pet owner’s contact information added when the veterinarian inserts the chip into the animal. A hand-held scanner is used to both power the chip and read the serial number. Animal control has readers, so if a dog — or a cat — is found, and it has a RFID chip, they can connect to the database to find out how to contact the owner.

“The chips in a dog or cat are usually implanted under the skin in the animal’s back below the neck and between the shoulder blades.”

Baxter didn’t like this option. So, what Rob was describing that someone — maybe a veterinarian! — using a big needle to insert an RFID microchip somewhere under his skin wasn’t what Baxter had expected. Instead, it scared him. He hated needles and getting shots. He realized he had to abandon this idea. He didn’t want any needles shoved into his body to implant a microchip! The idea made him feel dizzy.

Rob stared at Baxter and looked concerned. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Baxter shrugged his shoulders.

Rob had figured out what was going on; he knew about Baxter’s aversion to needles. “So, do you want me to find out about having one of those RFID chips inserted under your skin just like they do for a dog or a cat?”

“Is that all it could do? They’d have to scan me like a dog or a cat?”

“Yes. That’s it. Baxter, I have a question. Are you frightened enough about being kidnapped to go through this RFID thing?”

“I guess not. I’ll just be more careful about going to school and coming home. Maybe I can take jujitsu and taekwondo classes like I did when I was living with my mom.”

“That sounds like a more satisfactory and much simpler solution, and we’ll sign you up for those classes to help you gain more strength and agility.”

“Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

So, no microchip, no needles. Baxter was relieved. Very relieved.