I opened Circumstances of Childhood randomly to page 189 and pointed at the page without looking. The word closest to my finger was “courtroom.”
Courtroom by John W. Howell © 2024
“You may call your witness counselor.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. The state calls Ms. Charlene Roste.”
“Ms. Roste, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
“I do.”
“Very well, Ms. Roste. Would you state your name for the record?”
“Certainly. My name is Charlene Maywood Roste. My friends call me Chuck.”
“Thank you. Now tell the jury exactly what you saw on the night of June sixteenth.”
“Well, there I was, minding my own business when a guy approached me.”
“Is that guy in the courtroom?”
“Yes, right over there.”
“Let the record show the witness has identified the defendant, Farmer Brown. What happened next?”
“He had a pail and three-legged stool, which he immediately used to assault me.”
“By assault, you mean he hit you?”
“No. He grabbed my parts and started taking my milk.”
“Before we go further, the defense insists that you were under contract, which allowed Farmer Brown to take your milk. Do you agree with that?”
“I never saw a contract, nor have I signed one.”
“So here is the paper the defense says you signed. Does this look familiar?”
“I’ve never seen it before.”
“Is that signature yours?”
“Heck no. I always sign with my right hoof. That clearly is a left-hoof forgery.”
“Objection, your honor.”
“Yes, Mr. Travis?”
“The witness is not a certified hoof analyst, so her statement is conjecture.”
“So noted. The jury will disregard Ms. Roste’s last statement.”
“But you say you did not sign the contract.”
“I did not, and that man humiliated me.”
“Thank you, Ms. Roste.”
“Mr Travis, your witness.”
“Thank you, your honor. Ms. Roste, how long have you been on Farmer Brown’s farm?”
“About four years.”
“How many times has he taken your milk?”
“Twice a day.”
“So for four years, that would be over twelve hundred times.”
“I guess. I don’t do well at math.”
“Why did you object this time?”
“To be honest, I was looking for a ‘thank you.'”
“A thank you?”
“Yes. That man has taken my milk over twelve hundred times and never said thank you.”
“I see. What if he says ‘thank you’ now?”
“That’s all I want.”
“Your honor, for a directed acquittal, I will guarantee that my client will say ‘thank you.'”
“What say you, Mr. Prosecutor.”
“Yeah, fine.”
“Ms Roste?”
“I will be good with that.”
“So directed. Yes, Mr. Brown?”
“Thank you, Ms Roste.”
” You are welcome, Mr. Brown. Also, some warm water would be nice in the winter.”
