Chapter One by Adam Kibbe
The Last Word
The two men stood erect in a civilian approximation of the military “at easeâ€, the tension most apparent in the set of their faces about their eyes, and in the drawn lines of their lips. Their handcuffed wrists dangled before them, their fingertips resting on the table, a much-needed third point of support. All senses save direct sight were focused on the figure before them ñ their eyes stared forward, blankly, into the recent past that had brought them here.
The judge looked down on the two figures with an expression usually reserved for material found unexpectedly on the bottom of one’s shoes. He’d held his disdainful gaze on them for long moments now, since the closing statements and resultant hubbub had ceased to echo in the now hushed room. When he spoke, he did not turn his attention to the person he addressed, but continued to pin the two men in place with his piercing glare. “Madam foreman, has the jury reached their verdict?â€
Rising from her chair, the foreman glanced down, quite unnecessarily, at the paper in her hands. Despite the dire efforts of the lawyer for the two men, a freak statistical anomaly had generated a jury of twelve women and two men, and random chance had relegated the two men to the positions of alternates. If this were a hardship, they did not show it ñ the jury had only deliberated long enough for appearances, to fend off any appeals for a mistrial, so the alternates’ equally anomalous irrelevancy had not been theirs to bear for long. Besides, as they would now find out, they would not have sullied the unanimity. Theirs, and the eyes of the other 11 impaneled mothers, swung up to lock on the standing figure of the foreman, finally leaving the two men to stand now fully alone, even their lawyer absent, having been expelled after his closing argument, for the fracas ensuing after he, too, essentially made the prosecution’s case.
“On the charge of reckless endangerment of minors entrusted into their supervision, how do you find?†intoned the judge, the question mark all but unvoiced.
“Guilty!†came back the reply, with none of the dramatic pause of TV courtrooms. The word came out unrushed, but still with an undisguised enthusiasm.
“And on the charge of failing to come adequately to the aid of persons in need, in times of severe natural disaster, how do you find?â€
“Damn guilty!†blurted the foreman, now appearing to be caught up in the release of the anger that had been (mostly) held in check throughout.
The judge swiveled to give her a warning, but only the admonishing tilt of his head and the formality of his words connoted censure. Above the rims of his glasses, dangling at the end of his nose, the twinkle in his eyes wordlessly communicated his approval.
“And on the charge of being too irresponsible to let live, how say you?â€
“Oh yeahÖÖ..†she breathed. “Way guilty there, too!†“Your honor,†she hastened to add.
To be continued ………..
