Wife-In-Law (8 page)
“Thank you. You may be seated.” Cindy’s cousin started reading again. As the silence lengthened, a murmur arose in the spectators, prompting him to bang his gavel.
“Order in the court,” the bailiff scolded.
After what seemed like an hour, the judge looked up at last. “I see that Mrs. Callison has an attorney present to represent her. Am I correct?”
My lawyer rose. “You are, Your Honor.”
“Long time no see, Forrest,” the judge said, then told me, “Good choice.”
Then he looked to the protesters. “Do any of you wish to have an attorney present to represent you? Under the law, that is your right. I can delay these proceedings while you acquire representation, if you so desire.”
Kat stood. “Yer Honor, may we please talk this over among ourselves fer a minute?”
He waved a hand in dismissal. “Be my guest, as long as you maintain order and respect.”
“Thank you, Yer Honor.” Kat turned to the demonstrators. “Does anybody have a lawyer they’d like to call? Please raise yer hand if you do.” After subdued discussion they fell silent, and no hands went up. When she was sure everybody had had time to consider, Kat asked, “Does anybody wanta be represented by a public defender? Please raise yer hand if you want a public defender.” That prompted several snorts of derision from her cohorts, but once again, there were no takers.
“Okay, then,” she said. “Would any of you like to represent yerselves?”
All of them raised their hands, including Kat.
She turned to face the judge. “As you kin see, Yer Honor, it’s unanimous. We want to act pro se in this matter.”
The judge glared at her. “That is your right, little lady.”
Kat reddened in outrage at his dismissive form of address, but he didn’t seem to notice.
Forrest whispered in my ear, “The only thing old Ti hates worse than hippies is people who act pro se. Puts a real burden on the judge.”
The judge went on. “But are you sure you and your … hippie friends,” he said with obvious disapproval, “understand the seriousness of such a decision? Are you
competent
to make such a choice, little girl?”
competent
to make such a choice, little girl?”
That tore it with Kat. Her accent was wide open when she shot back, “Just because I look like this and talk like this, does
not
mean I am
ignerent,
sir, or my friends. This ain’t the first time we’ve been to court fer protestin’ the corrupt Republican administration, and it won’t be the last.”
not
mean I am
ignerent,
sir, or my friends. This ain’t the first time we’ve been to court fer protestin’ the corrupt Republican administration, and it won’t be the last.”
Oh, Kat.
The gavel came down. “Watch your tongue, missy, or I’ll hold you in contempt.”
The ex-law student jumped up. “We hold
you
in contempt. This trial is a farce.”
you
in contempt. This trial is a farce.”
Reporters scribbled away furiously as the judge aimed his gavel at the offender. “Bailiff, take that man into custody.” He banged his desk, then narrowed his eyes at the shocked protester. “I hereby fine you three thousand dollars and sentence you to thirty days in jail for contempt.” He waved his gavel. “Take him away.”
Three thousand dollars? Could he
do
that?
do
that?
Kat and her buddies watched in resentful silence as the bailiff carried out the judge’s order.
Judge Blount smoothed the front of his robe, then said, “Very well. Be it so noted that the protesters in question have chosen to act in their own behalf.”
After consulting his notes again, he said, “According to these statements, the protesters in the first four rows, here, obstructed Mrs. Betsy Callison’s invited guests from entering her property for a makeover party, despite Mrs. Callison’s repeated peaceful requests that they stop assaulting and obstructing her guests.” No guessing which way the wind blew with him. “Then said protesters trespassed onto Mrs. Callison’s private property, where they lay down and obstructed access to Mrs. Callison’s home, despite Mrs. Callison’s repeated peaceful requests that they leave.” Reporters scribbled away as he shuffled the notes.
The judge went on. “When the trespassers refused to go back to the sidewalk, Mrs. Callison announced that they were eligible for free makeovers, along with her other guests.” A low buzz among the onlookers elicited no rebuke from the bench. The judge just raised his voice. “Mrs. Callison then made it clear that by remaining on her property, the protesters were agreeing to participate in the makeovers, which included a shave and a haircut.”
Chuckles erupted from the gallery, but the judge didn’t seem to mind.
He peered over his readers at Kat. “Have I got that right so far?”
After a brief, murmured conference across the aisle, Kat rose. “That is correct, Your Honor.”
The judge nodded. “Then, after repeated clarifications of the terms, Mrs. Callison chose a makeover winner among the protesters and, using electric clippers,
not
scissors,” he emphasized, “proceeded to begin shaving”—he looked back to his notes—“one Julius Rabinowitz”—more chuckles—“who then got up and threatened Mrs. Callison with violence, only to be stopped by one Kat Rutledge, who lives across the street from Mrs. Callison, and is her best friend.”
not
scissors,” he emphasized, “proceeded to begin shaving”—he looked back to his notes—“one Julius Rabinowitz”—more chuckles—“who then got up and threatened Mrs. Callison with violence, only to be stopped by one Kat Rutledge, who lives across the street from Mrs. Callison, and is her best friend.”
Julius shot to his feet. “She cut my beard! That’s a felony!”
The judge practically crawled over his desk. “Do not
dare
to lecture this court on the law, sir! I, and I alone, will decide if a crime has been committed here! Now sit down and shut up, unless you want to join your loudmouth friend!”
dare
to lecture this court on the law, sir! I, and I alone, will decide if a crime has been committed here! Now sit down and shut up, unless you want to join your loudmouth friend!”
Wisely, Julius sat down.
The judge pointed to the guy I’d skunked. “You, sir, with the blessed beginnings of a crew cut. Please stand.”
His hand protectively over his bald patch, the guy stood.
“State your name for the court.”
The guy looked down, barely managing a thready, “Ken Stilson.”
“Do you still wish to prefer charges against Mrs. Callison?” Judge Blount asked in a warning tone.
The guy glanced from me to the judge, and back again, then bent his head and mumbled something that prompted a hissed reaction among the ranks.
“Speak up, young man,” the judge ordered. “I’m not a psychic.”
“No, sir,” the guy repeated loudly. “I do not.”
“You do not
what
?” the judge demanded.
what
?” the judge demanded.
“I do not wish to prefer charges.” The guy sat abruptly and slunk down.
Judge Blount smiled. “Be it so noted, that Ken Stilson has dropped the charges against Mrs. Callison.” He aimed his gavel at Julius. “And you, sir. Stand up.” Julius slowly rose. “After further consideration,” the judge said, “do you still wish to prefer charges against Mrs. Callison?”
Julius shot a pained glance to Kat, but remained mute.
“Speak up, sir,” the judge insisted. “Have you reconsidered bringing charges against the law-abiding citizen on whose property you were criminally trespassing?”
So much for a fair trial.
Julius bent to whisper in Kat’s ear. Kat nodded, then rose to address the court. “Yer Honor, you told Mr. Rabinowitz to remain silent on threat of contempt.”
“Smart-ass hippies,” the judge muttered, then said, “He has the court’s permission to speak when directly addressed by the bench.”
“I am still preferring charges against Mrs. Callison,” Julius said, defiant.
Kat briefly closed her eyes in dread.
The judge turned to me. “And you, Mrs, Callison,” he said kindly, “do you wish to prefer charges against these …
hippie
trespassers?”
hippie
trespassers?”
Forrest put a staying hand on my forearm as he rose. But his “Yes, Your Honor” was drowned out by my firm “No, Your Honor,” as I stood beside him.
“Counsel,” the judge warned Forrest. “Consult with your client.” He looked behind me. “I see a Mrs. Louise Taylor, one of Mrs. Callison’s guests, listed as bringing charges for assault. Mrs. Taylor, you wish to prefer charges.” It was a statement, not a question.
Cindy’s friend started to rise behind me, but I turned and shook my head no. She looked from the judge to me in confusion.
“No,” I said in a desperate whisper. “Please don’t.”
She shrugged, then did as I asked. “No, Your Honor. On further consideration, I have decided to drop the charges.”
The judge was not amused. “Very well. Be it so noted.” He frowned down at me. “You are certain, Mrs. Callison, that you do not wish to press charges?”
“No charges, Your Honor. Kat’s my best friend,” I explained. “No matter what she did, I can’t have her put in jail.”
Pencils scribbled harder as a buzz of sympathy passed through the onlookers.
Across the aisle, the trespassers looked at me in shame—all but Julius/Moose, who was still loaded for bear, maybe because his sissy first name had been revealed in public, and I do mean public.
Kat had a furious sotto voce argument with him, but he clearly refused to budge.
“Betsy,” Forrest whispered in a patronizing tone, “I know you care about your friend, but she and the others broke the law. It won’t look good if you don’t press charges.”
“I appreciate your advice, Forrest,” I told him. “Really, I do. But this isn’t a matter of legalities. Kat’s the only true friend I’ve ever had. I can’t have her arrested.”
“All right, then,” he said. “But the others … surely you don’t want to support such lawlessness.”
My whole body ached from the humiliation of Kat’s betrayal and the insult of having my private business hung out on public display. “I just want this to be over.” I gripped his forearm with a desperate, “Please. I want it to be over.”
He sighed in disagreement, but addressed the judge. “Your Honor, against counsel’s advice, my client does not wish to press charges.”
The judge studied me with a mixture of admiration and disappointment. “While I admire the loyalty of your decision,” he said, “I cannot approve its wisdom. Nevertheless, be it so noted that Mrs. Callison has declined to press charges against the criminal trespassers.”
He glared across the aisle and banged his gavel. “Will all the parties please rise and face the court for my decision?”
I could barely stand, shaking at the prospect of actually being thrown in jail.
“In the matter of Mr. Julius Rabinowitz’s charges of simple battery against Mrs. Betsy Callison, the court hereby dismisses the charges and warns Mr. Rabinowitz that if he ever comes before this bench again, his previous disrespect for this court and the law of the land will weigh heavily against him.” Scowling, the judge banged his gavel one last time. “Court is dismissed. You are all free to go, though the majority of you shouldn’t be.”
“All rise,” the bailiff ordered with a grin as the judge flounced out.
Cheers and applause broke out among the onlookers as the reporters rushed forward to get statements.
Ignoring their clamor, I shook Forrest’s hand. “Thank you so much. And please thank Cindy for me. I was scared to death.”
Cindy rushed forward to give me a hug. “I told you this would work out,” she said with a wink. She gave Forrest a peck. “Good job, Counselor. You’re the best.”
He circled her waist for a sidelong hug. “See why I love her? I didn’t do a thing, but she compliments me.” He let go of Cindy and nudged her my way. “Let me take care of the press. Hon, why don’t you get Betsy some lunch at the club? Give things time to settle down. Then you can take her home.”
“Sure thing.” Cindy stepped over and put her arm around my shoulders. “Come on. I’m buying you a nice lunch. And wine. Plenty of wine.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Maybe it would bring back the circulation in my extremities.
“Okay. Out we go,” Forrest said to me. At least Forrest would get some good publicity out of this.
He led me into the hall, where glaring TV lights kicked on, almost obscuring the mob of reporters who barraged me with questions.
Clearly, the UFOs hadn’t materialized, and the Berlin Wall was still standing.
Forrest stepped between me and the reporters, looking gorgeous as he lifted a hand for a perfect photo op. A battery of flashes went off.
Cindy drew me aside while the attention was on him.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the press,” Forrest said without so much as a blink. The press fell silent, microphones thrust forward as my lawyer declared, “Fortunately for Mrs. Callison, Judge Blount saw through the spurious charges brought against her by the criminal trespassers who assaulted her guests and committed obstruction. Only my client’s loyalty to her friend, however misplaced that loyalty might be, spared the perpetrators from the punishment they so richly deserved.”
Maybe my loyalty to Kat was misplaced, but I couldn’t help caring about her, or grieving for what had happened.
“Come on, honey,” Cindy murmured, pulling me toward the elevators. “Forrest can handle this. Let’s get some food in you, then I’ll take you home.”
I nodded in gratitude. “I may never go outside again.”
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