Child Abuse Immaterial

Chapter 3
November.

The three weeks leading up to his imminent arrest proceeded as normal as it could in a household where a happily married, loving father of five young children had been accused of writing child abuse material.
As the man was not working and because he had personal projects under way he was able to travel the 550km down “the track” to Alice Springs to take advantage of that small cities move into the twentieth century. They had recently built a mega hardware chain so he went to buy all the remodeling needs required for their second houses upgrade before putting it on the market as a rental property.
He bought an iPad while there to take the place of the other electronic equipment currently being thoroughly reamed by the NT and Federal police.
He also saw the lawyer spoken to on the phone, a pudgy, nerdy young man of around thirty who explained that the law did indeed state that it was illegal to write "that" type of story and as regard to the law, anything could happen. A useless meeting of predetermined facts that was probably going to cost a shitload with little helpful information or positive feedback.
He drove back to Pennant Creek with a car load of paints, brushes and assorted calking materials, pushing through the rip pull of existence to face the crashing waves of an oncoming hurricane.
So he potted around the house in Pennant Creek for a week or so doing odd jobs and upholding spouse and parental requirements before heading, once more, 250km up the Stuart highway to the small settlement of Newcastle Waters to repaint the rental property.
This was a welcome distraction, becoming lost in brush strokes, bright colour and load music. It was also a time for reflection, putting the iPad to good use with time to write and draw in the evenings and early mornings, posting to his art blog and clearing the angry fleas of worry away with the powder of possibility and imagination.
With the house newly painted inside and out and a full sun rising on the burnt orange and eucalyptus trim he walked the open plains around Newcastle Waters giving thanks and praise to the universe for the possibilities and beauty that painfully contrasted against the gnawing doubt playing at the back of his splinted mind.
He returned home for a day, as on the next he would head once more back to Alice Springs flying on-wards to Darwin for a meeting with Territory Music. This would be his final time as a board member where he would resign his position in anticipation of the next stage of his and the family’s life. It would be a great few days away with music and friends abounding. Then back home in preparation for the family’s move from tiny Pennant Creek to the larger city of Alice Springs as the final brokering and finances were being configured on a large, five-bedroom house they wished to buy.
These thoughts were playing in his mind as he showered early on the morning of his trip to Alice when his wife knocked on the door saying in a shaky hesitant tone, darling the police are here.
Resigning himself to the inevitable he dressed in t-shirt, shorts and thongs and exited the bathroom into the next stage of this unfolding, waking nightmare.
His 3-year old, the youngest, ran past him with a tea towel tucked into the back of his shirt. Look Dad I’m super, he said zipping past arms in flying position.
He noticed three police in uniform standing at the far end of the houses veranda with his wife and the older children looking towards their father and husband as he squinted into the morning glare, galah’s squawking in the background. He faced the two officers in front of him, one a strange, brow beat, wimpy type; the other a crew-cut, butch female reaching for his arm. Their uniforms, peculiar, leaf green shirts, the same some clubs wear, like runners or relay for life attire, over the pocket and on the sleeve was a badge reading “Child Abuse Task Force" the shirt tucked into beige cargo pants held up by the usual utility belt, chock full of cop paraphernalia.
Hello Detective, said the man to the unsmiling female. I didn’t expect to ever see you again.
(Chapter 1 here: https://steemit.com/childabuseimmaterial/@admc/2hj3ec-child-abuse-immaterial
Chapter 2 here: https://steemit.com/childabuseimmaterial/@admc/child-abuse-immaterial )