The garda sounded sickened by the condition of the caravan where he found the Traveller boy writes Carl O'Brien at The Children's CourtCarl O'Brien
"Judge, the place where I arrested him was totally uninhabitable," the grey-haired garda said, his lips pursed in disgust. "You wouldn't put a dog in it."
The scrawny 15-year-old with haggard cheeks had been arrested that morning for failing to appear in court for a previous hearing.
As the garda spoke, the boy leaned forward in the seat, biting his nails, his eyes darted nervously around the courtroom.
"I know the family situation," the garda continued. "He doesn't have anywhere to stay . . . when we went into the caravan his uncle was in such a state of intoxication that he didn't have a clue what was going on."
Wearing a silver pioneer badge on the lapel of his dark suit, Judge Michael Connellan's face crumpled into a disapproving frown.
"If he's living rough, there should be some plan to take him off the streets . . . We'll have to get a place for him. Is there a place in Cloverhill?" the judge asked.
The boy, however, was too young to go to prison and would have to be accommodated in a secure residential unit.
"Can I go to Michael's?" the boy interjected with pleading eyes.
"You can't go anywhere until I find if there's a bed," the judge said curtly. "Obviously he's been in there before."
"Can I go to Michael's?" the boy interjected again.
"I'm not happy. I think he's been living rough. I'd be fearful for his safety. There is a risk that something will happen to him."
"Nothing will happen," the boy interrupted.
"I don't want this court to be blamed for what might happen. I'll put this back to next week," the judge concluded.
The garda, meanwhile, reported that there was a place in Trinity House available for the boy.
The judge, now satisfied, disposed of the case.
The boy sloped dejectedly out of the courtroom, his chin almost pressing against his chest.
His demeanour contrasted with three teenagers who later squeezed onto the small wooden bench in the courtroom, smirking and giggling among themselves.
They were arrested in the early hours of the morning on O'Connell Bridge charged with theft.
The 17-year-old youth was living in an out-of-hours unit in the city-centre, but was breaching bail conditions for other charges, the garda said.
"I see him around town on a regular basis, at all hours of the day," the garda said. "He has no fixed abode."
The weary-looking 16-year-old youth with a few days growth of stubble had absconded from St Patrick's Institute while on a visit to his grandmother, the garda said.
The pretty 17-year-old girl had been thrown out of the home, the garda said, and her parents wouldn't come to collect her from the Garda station.
As the judge and the teenagers' solicitors discussed the case, the boys elbowed each other playfully, while the girl looked concerned as the judge discussed the possibility of placing her on remand to Mountjoy Prison
"I can stay with my brother on Clanbrassil Street," she said urgently.
The judge refused, remanding one of the boys to St Patrick's, while the girl would be sent to Mountjoy until the case was called next week.
The three teenagers fell silent. The colour seemed to have drained from the girl's white face.
The boys got up sombrely and made their way down to the cells of the court.
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