The Children's CourtNot once did the 16-year-old with folded arms look his parents in the eye
They sat quietly at the back of the courtroom, just a few feet away, as the boy's solicitor told the judge they didn't want him to return home any more.
"The relationship between the boy and his parents has broken down completely," the solicitor said, only hinting at the tensions within the family.
Judge John O'Neill, looking through the paperwork of the case, nodded.
"Yes, I see a note here from Judge Collins: 'The parents do not want him at home'. Have you changed your mind?" he asked, looking towards them. They both shook their heads silently from side to side.
"He keeps running away," his mother said in a trembling voice. "Eight times in the last year. The only living conditions he pays any heed of are what the courts say. When he robbed that mobile phone we took him out of the cell, and the next day he was gone again."
Her eyes began to glisten as a silence fell on the courtroom. Then she spoke again, this time disconsolately.
"We've done everything to try to keep control of him, but he's losing control of himself."
The boy was in court on a number of charges, including theft and breach of bail conditions, and was due to be released once again on bail.
But with his parents refusing to take him home, and a wait of up to six weeks to determine his eligibility for suitable residential care, his solicitor said he was in "limbo land" with nowhere to go.
"If he goes out he's likely to be pulled up again and the whole thing starts all over again," the judge said to himself, as if thinking aloud.
"I can grant bail, revoking those conditions relating to him residing at home, knowing he has nowhere to go. Or I can remand the matter for a week and see what accommodation becomes available. That might concentrate the minds of the various bodies around the city," he said.
The judge asked the boy's parents where they believed he had stayed when he had run away from home.
"On the street," his mother answered quickly. "And getting involved with more and more people," she added, beginning to sob to herself.
"It's not as if the parents have washed their hands of their child," the judge said. "They have come into court. I'm quite sure it's not a decision they took lightly."
The boy's mother, wiping her eyes, got up suddenly and left the courtroom, leaving her plastic carrier bag behind.
The father, dressed neatly in jeans and a shirt, stood up nervously and asked to say a few words.
"Justice . . . I went into Harcourt Street Garda station last week to pick him up. I didn't give out to him. I didn't want any conflict. He told me it wouldn't happen again. Later I said he could bring his girlfriend over. That was 4.30 p.m., and by 4.45 p.m. he had run away again."
The boy still did not look at his father, and mumbled aggressively in response.
The judge noted that the boy's parents were also trying to raise two other teenagers at home. He remanded the boy in custody for a week to St Patrick's institution.
"Hopefully in a week's time something will be done," he said, directing that the probation and welfare services deal with the matter as quickly as possible.
The father left the courtroom quickly to console his wife. The boy, meanwhile, sat motionless, his arms folded, looking on.'
