Miles High

Twenty eight year old mildly retarded Miles Cavanaugh stood with his arms grasping the metal handrails of his four-prong walker outside of court. Miles, his probation officer, and I waited for a second violation of probation hearing to commence. Miles’ recent violations got me, his social worker, subpoenaed to testify before the judge on my agency’s umbrella of services and the level of support that could be offered.

Dressed in a dark three-piece suit with a folded handkerchief showing white, the probation officer addressed Miles. “You missed your last two probation appointments with me. Seeing your probation officer is court-ordered. What is the problem? The last time your drug levels were drawn, you were high?”

I moved in between them to not only clarify the Freudian Slip but advocate a bad situation turning worse. “Him or his levels were high?”

“Same difference.” replied the probation officer. “He was high on marijuana!”

Unflinchingly, Miles asked the better question. “How high?”

“Real high, like 192. That's a drag on a roach short of 200. Miles, you have been on house arrest for the last two months, your levels got to be clean by now. Let’s see how it goes in there but before recess, I may recommend to the Judge a urine test.”

“For me or the Judge?”

“Wipe that smirk off your face. This is your future we are talking about.”

Miles became spitting mad, banging the four tips of his walker against the floor like an angry horse. “Man, don’t make me pee in no bottle. Not today. It’s going to come back dirty.”

“How dirty?”

“Real dirty?”

The three of us traded nebulous stares. I looked around for his Public Defender but not before the probation officer continued questioning. “Do you mean using or abusing dirty?”

Miles let the truth slip. “Ugh, like the skunk water after removing a pool cover following a long winter.”

"That's tainted." I answered aloud.

Back from the bathroom, the glassy-eyed grandfather responsible for providing close supervision for Miles during his house arrest asked, “What did I miss?”

The probation officer sighed. “I got to go speak to the Judge.”

We were Miles apart over him pissing his life away.