All Rise!
by Gerald R. Kozak
“All rise!” Bailiff Leroy Davis said when Judge Mary Aldrich entered the courtroom. “Matter number 261 is now before the court, Martin vs Bonner. The litigants have been sworn, Your Honor,” the bailiff said and handed papers to the judge.
“Thank you, Leroy. Miss Martin, how long have you known the defendant?”
“I don’t know him that good.”
“I didn’t ask you that,” the judge said, smiling. “I asked you how long you’ve known him.”
“Not that long.”
“Would you say that you’ve known him for over a year or less than a year?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Let me put it another way. Where did you meet him?”
“When?”
“When you saw him for the first time.”
“I seen him lots of times.”
“So, you knew him pretty well?”
“I guess so.”
“I don’t want you to guess. I’m trying to find out what your relationship with the defendant is.”
“We not related. He might maybe be my cousin, but I don’t think so.”
“What makes you think that he might be your cousin?”
“I don’t think that. I said I didn’t think he was no cousin.”
The judge shook her head slightly and turned to the defendant. “Mr. Bonner, perhaps you can tell me how long you two have known each other?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I can tell you.”
Judge Mary rolled her eyes and said, “Pray do.”
“Huh? Pray what?”
“I’ll get right to the point. Were you two ever intimate?”
“I never been to jail. Well, maybe once. I don’t know about her. Maybe she knows.”
“I didn’t ask if you were ever an inmate. I asked if you two ever slept together?”
“At her house or my ‘partment?”
“Either one.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Miss Martin, let me ask you.”
“What?”
“Did you two ever sleep together?”
“When?”
“Ever!”
“What’s that got to do wit’ me borrowing him the money?”
“It has to do with my understanding your relationship. In his answer to your complaint, he claims that you gave him the money as a gift. If you two were keeping house together, that’s one thing. If you were just casual friends, that’s another. I need you to tell me if you ever slept together.”
“Wit’ who?”
“The defendant!”
“I don’t remember.”
“Mr. Bonner, do you remember?”
“Remember what?”
“Sleeping with the plaintiff.”
“That plaintiff?”
“Yes, that plaintiff.”
“She’s not my type,” Bonner said, whereupon Miss Martin yelled, contradicting him. “Oh, yeah? Not your type, huh? Well, I was your type when you got me pregnant wit’ Clifford and then Natalie and then Dexter. I was your type all those other times when—”
“Enough!” the judge said, banging her gavel on the desk. “I get the idea. Miss Martin, you are claiming that you loaned two thousand dollars to the defendant, who was, at the very least, a close friend. In his written response to your complaint, the defendant claims that it was a gift. Miss Martin, do you have any proof that it was a loan?”
“How am I supposed to have proof?”
“Did you write a check, or a money order, or do you have a witness?”
“I gave him cash money and I said you have to pay me back.”
“Watch this,” the judge said, and turned to the defendant. “Mr. Bonner, did you promise to pay her back?”
“I don’t know what she’s talking about. I got no job. I wouldn’t ’a said I’d pay her back. She give me the money, and I said, ‘Thank you’.”
“What did you need the money for?”
“A motorcycle.”
“Why?”
“Because she likes motorcycles. She’s the one who wanted the motorcycle.”
“Miss Martin, is that true? You wanted the motorcycle?”
“I never said to buy no motorcycle. He said would I be happy if I had one, and I said yes, but that’s not the same as saying to go buy one. Not for no two thousand dollars.”
“Mr. Bonner, if she’s the one who wanted the motorcycle, and since she’s the one who had the two thousand dollars, why didn’t she buy her own motorcycle?”
“’Cause she can’t register it.”
“Why can’t she?”
“’Cause she don’t got no license no more after she got into an accident and they found out she had no insurance.”
“Is that true,” the judge said, looking at the plaintiff. “that you had no insurance?”
“The onliest reason is because I forgot to pay the insurance bill the day before.”
“I see. There is a lot of that going around.”
“What’s going around?” the plaintiff asked.
“People losing their insurance the day before an accident. I get that a lot. So, let me get this straight. You wanted a motorcycle but couldn’t buy one, so you gave Mr. Bonner the money to buy one for you. He would register it, but you would ride it. Is that right?”
“Only on the back.”
“What does that mean?” the judge asked.
“I would sit behind him.”
“So, you never drove it?”
Before the plaintiff could answer, the defendant spoke. “Miss, that’s a lie!”
“I am not Miss! I am the judge, and you will refer to me as ‘Your Honor’.” She fingered her collar. “This is not a dress; it’s a robe!”
“Yes, My Honor.”
Judge Aldrich started to respond but did not. She sipped some water and turned to look at the plaintiff. “What do you do for a living?”
“Nothing right now.”
“When was the last time that you had a job?”
“I never had no job.”
“How do you support yourself?”
“Disability.”
How can you afford to give the defendant two thousand dollars for a motorcycle?”
“Disability.”
“What is your disability?”
“I can’t work.”
“Why can’t you work?”
“I’m disabled.”
“Mr. Bonner, do you know why Miss Martin can’t work?”
“She lays down on the job, you know what I’m saying?”
After being refreshed with more water, casually sipped, the judge called for a twenty-minute recess. In her chambers, she gave her bailiff a twenty-dollar bill and sent him on an errand. He was gone for fifteen minutes during which she sat with her head back and her eyes closed. When the bailiff returned, he put a paper bag on her desk and woke her up.
“Let’s get this over with,” she said, and the bailiff returned to the courtroom. When she heard him say, “All rise!” she entered the and addressed the plaintiff.
“You have three children, Miss Martin. How do you support them?”
“Disability.”
“I see. And who cares for them when you are riding on the motorcycle?”
“I take the baby wit’ me. He rides on my back.”
“How old are the other two?”
“Eight and eleven.”
“Who watches them?”
“Television, if they ain’t in school.”
The judge bought time by sipping water. She jerked her head to lift her hair from her eyes and stared at the plaintiff. “Were you prostituting yourself?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Okay, I’m ready to rule. Both of you have been evasive—”
“Been what?” the defendant asked.
“Have been beating around the bush.”
“What bush?” the plaintiff asked.
“The proverbial b... Never mind. I can’t get straight answers out of either one of you, but I do know that neither of you came to this court with clean hands, so the law can’t help you. I have no choice but to leave you where I found you. I don’t have to decide whether or not the money was a loan. You were both trying to pull a fast one by getting the plaintiff’s motorcycle registered in the defendant’s name, and I’m not going to help you. Case dismissed! She banged her gavel with force.
Back in her chambers, the judge instructed her bailiff: “Would you do the honors, please? I’m so glad that that was the last case of the day.”
The bailiff got two glasses from the desk drawer and removed a bottle of Scotch from the paper bag. He poured a shot into each glass and handed one of them to her. “Cheers!” he said.
Copyright © 2024 by Gerald R. Kozak
