The Sacrifice

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The Sacrifice Page 37

by Robert Whitlow


  “Finally,” the judge said, “we have to declare a winner of this round. It was difficult to decide, and we had a sharp debate that kept us in the jury room longer than we expected. However, considering all the witnesses and the lawyers we give this round to the plaintiff.”

  Scott quickly looked at the team members to see how they took the news. No one seemed upset, and he realized that the students were so relieved to have survived the experience in one piece that they didn’t consider themselves losers. Only Dustin walked over to him with a downcast look.

  “Sorry, coach.”

  Scott put his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “If we’d been able to play a full game, we would have worn them out.”

  “On to round two,” he said to the whole group. “We switch sides and argue the plaintiff ’s case.”

  It had been an advantage for Frank and Janie to watch the other team. It was even more helpful for the witnesses to observe students from other schools portray the characters the Catawba students would assume during the next round.

  They left Courtroom 307 and walked down the hallway to Courtroom 303. Their opponent was a team from a public high school in one of the best neighborhoods of south Charlotte. Frank went outside and waited in the hallway. Janie sat next to Alisha. Kay slid into the seat beside Scott.

  “What do you think?”

  Scott looked at the young man and woman who were arranging their papers at the table reserved for the student lawyers who represented the defense. The young man was dressed in a dark gray suit, white shirt, and red-striped tie. The girl was in a navy women’s suit that must have cost five hundred dollars.

  “Those two look like attorneys from a big firm in Raleigh that represents insurance companies. I want to see their birth certificates; I’m not sure they’re still in high school.”

  “They’re probably seniors.”

  “Maybe at Harvard.”

  The judge and three lawyers came into the room. Janie stepped into the hallway to get Frank. Scott suddenly felt butterflies in his stomach.

  “I’m nervous,” he said softly to Kay.

  “You know how good they can be and want to see them do it.”

  Frank and Janie took their places. Janie had placed everything neatly across their table. The judge, a woman attorney with curly dark hair, called the case.

  “Proceed for the plaintiff.”

  Janie stood up and began just as Scott had taught on the first night of practice. “May it please the court. My name is Janie Collins. Together with my co-counsel, Frank Jesup, it is my privilege to represent Betty Moonbeam, the plaintiff in this case.”

  Janie’s accent immediately captured the attention of the courtroom. It helped that her grammar was perfect, thus debunking for a moment the stereotype that someone from the country didn’t know a participle from a preposition. Scott smiled. He was glad he lived in a generation that didn’t try to keep women like Janie out of the courtroom. She concluded by looking directly in the faces of the lawyers in the jury box.

  “After you have heard the evidence, my client will entrust the decision about these important issues into your hands for your careful consideration. Thank you very much.”

  Kay elbowed Scott in the side and whispered, “I see that smug look on your face, but remember who recruited her.”

  Janie’s counterpart was the male member of the other team. He didn’t give a canned speech, but worked in some direct responses to what Janie said in her opening statement. Scott was impressed. This was going to be an interesting match.

  Frank debuted by conducting the direct examination of their first witness. He didn’t try to project himself into the center of attention but kept the focus where it needed to be—on the testimony. After a cross-examination that didn’t do much damage because of some of the witness strategies developed by Frank, the case moved forward smoothly.

  Alisha played the role of Betty Moonbeam. Janie questioned her and brought out the pathos and pain she’d suffered. Alisha had a gift that can be the bane of men in the hands of a manipulative woman—the ability to cry on cue. She shed a tear when Janie questioned her about the effect of her injuries on her life and added a few more when she was cross-examined too strenuously by the male defense lawyer.

  When the last witness for the plaintiff stepped down, Frank said, “Your honor, subject to rebuttal, that concludes the plaintiff ’s case.”

  The defense lawyers started out with their own version of Pete Pigpickin. It was a strong role, and the young man in the witness chair had a piece of straw stuck behind his left ear as a prop for the part. Frank was scheduled to cross-examine the driver of the barbeque truck. As Scott listened, he realized it would have been better for Janie to take on her fellow countryman, but it was too late to change.

  Frank began with some good questions and had Pete back-pedaling down the road until the witness gave an answer Frank hadn’t anticipated. Frank’s face suddenly grew red, and he said, “I object, your honor, that is, uh, outside the ability of the witness to observe and offer an opinion.”

  The female lawyer on the other team stood up. “Judge, nothing in the facts prohibits the witness from offering his lay opinion about the condition of the roadway. He testified that he’s driven on the road at least once a week for ten years.”

  “Objection overruled,” the judge said.

  The setback threw Frank off his rhythm, and a few questions later he committed one of the cardinal sins of cross-examination—he gave a witness the chance to repeat a damaging answer. Pete testified that Billy Bob’s car had on its right turn signal, then turned left. This tended to shift blame away from Pete to Billy Bob. Instead of pointing out an inconsistent statement that Pete gave to the policeman who investigated the wreck, Frank asked sharply, “That’s not true, is it?”

  Pete gave Frank a long look. “Mr. Attorney, I put my hand on the Bible before I started testifying and everything I’m saying is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. What I said about seeing the right turn signal before Billy Bob entered the intersection is all of those kinds of truth.”

  Frank salvaged a few points toward the end of the questioning. Janie cross-examined the other two witnesses for the defense. The female lawyer then delivered her closing argument. It was hard-hitting. Scott decided that in a few more years she might be another Lynn Davenport.

  Scott could see Frank’s profile. He was staring straight ahead, not watching his opponent. Scott had told him to listen closely enough that he could counter the other side’s argument without becoming vulnerable to the logic of the presentation and be psyched out. The defense lawyer finished with a passionate flourish.

  Frank stood up.

  Scott should not have worried. Rarely referring to the few note cards in his hand, Frank proved his own case and refuted several of the key points made by the other side by quoting almost verbatim from the testimony of the witnesses. The young man had an incredible memory, and the closing argument gave him an opportunity to show what a potent weapon it could be when combined with a sharp, analytical mind. Putting his hands on the railing in front of the jury box, he concluded by asking them to remember what Janie had said during her opening statement.

  “Betty Moonbeam cannot make the defendant do the right thing. That power is in your hands. Use it wisely and with compassion.”

  The judge and lawyers left to discuss the presentation. The coach for the other team, a young teacher about Kay’s age, came over to them. With her was an older lawyer with gray hair and small, frameless glasses.

  “Is this your first year in the competition?” the teacher asked.

  “Yes,” Scott replied.

  The lawyer introduced himself to Scott and Kay. “I’ve been coming to these competitions for ten years, and I’ve never seen a better round than we just witnessed. The only one that comes close would be the state finals three years ago when we lost to a team from Asheville. You did a great job preparing them.”

  “The girl who p
layed the plaintiff was superb,” the teacher added.

  Scott returned the compliments, then gathered the students in a huddle and told them about the older lawyer’s comparison to the state finals.

  “Whatever happens, you can be proud of what you accomplished.”

  They waited anxiously in small huddles for several more minutes before the judge and jury returned. The room was totally silent. The judge took off her glasses before she spoke.

  “I’ve been trying cases for twenty years and it’s rare to see real lawyers as prepared as these two teams. All of you deserve recognition. I’ve asked my colleagues to speak first.”

  Once again, the lawyers in the jury box gave a brief critique, followed by the judge’s comments.

  The judge continued, “Now for the hard part. We frequently have to make decisions as lawyers or judges, but some are harder than others. Picking the best attorney, witness, and team was very difficult, but we have selected Alisha Mason as best witness”—the judge looked down at a piece of paper—“and Janie Collins as best lawyer.”

  Janie and Alisha were sitting next to each other. They both screamed and hugged. The judge smiled and banged her gavel. “Order in the court! We’re not finished. Although the best witness and lawyer are from the plaintiff ’s side, we give the overall top score to the defense. They were the most consistent from start to finish.”

  Only Scott’s and Frank’s mental wheels turned fast enough to instantly read between the lines of the decision. Catawba lost because Frank botched the cross-examination of Pete Pigpickin. Scott looked at Frank, who turned his head toward him at the same time. Their eyes met again. Frank wasn’t smiling, and Scott didn’t either. He knew there was no use trying to communicate an unspoken message of encouragement that would not be received. Frank left the room without congratulating anyone on either team.

  During the ride home to Catawba, Dustin and the other boys talked about the mock trial competition for thirty minutes, then switched back to football. As he listened, Scott realized that the day’s activities were just a blip on the boys’ radar screen of activities. It had been fun, but nobody in the halls on Monday would be scrambling for news about the results of the mock trial competition.

  The car in which Frank was riding arrived at the high school before Scott, and the young man was gone. Janie and Alisha were still there.

  “Thank you, Mr. Ellis,” Janie said. “I can’t wait until next year. Will you be helping with the team again? You’re great. I can’t imagine anyone being better than you.”

  Scott hadn’t even thought about the future. “Uh, I’ll consider it.”

  “Please do it,” Alisha added. “There are some other kids we can recruit for the team now that we know what it’s all about.”

  After all the students left, Scott turned to Kay. “What next?”

  “I think we need to have a victory celebration.”

  “But we didn’t win.”

  “Objection overruled. That’s a mere technicality. Didn’t you see Janie’s face when she was selected best attorney?”

  “Yeah, that was one of my favorite images of the day,” Scott admitted. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Dinner tonight. The two of us.”

  “Without the kids?”

  Kay laughed. “You sound like a guy with toddlers. We’ll do something with the students later. Probably during the school day.”

  “Okay. Where would you like to go?”

  “Would it be too much trouble to go back to Charlotte for dinner?”

  “No. Where?”

  “A surprise, but it’s a nice place. Wear a tie and pick me up at six o’clock.”

  “Sounds fancy.”

  “It has historical interest.”

  40

  Rarely do great beauty and great virtue dwell together.

  PETRARCH

  Scott knocked on the door of Kay’s apartment and waited. She didn’t answer. He knocked again and straightened his tie. Still no answer. Waiting on Kay’s doorstep was beginning to be a pattern, and he knocked a third time. He was reaching for the door handle to see if it was locked when Kay opened the door. His mouth dropped open an inch.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he said.

  Kay was wearing a long black sheath dress with a silver necklace and earrings. Her hair was done up in a French twist with several wisps escaping around her face. Over one arm was a white wrap. The only missing item was shoes.

  “Thanks, come in. I’m almost ready.” She disappeared into her bedroom.

  Scott stepped into the place where she’d stood and caught a whiff of her perfume. He took a deeper breath and wished he had Nicky’s sensitive nose so he could appreciate all the nuances that were floating in the air. When she returned, her high heels brought her closer to eye level with Scott.

  “I’m ready.”

  Kay threw her sweater around her shoulders and went down the steps. Scott followed.

  “Let’s stop at a mall and let me rent a tuxedo,” he said.

  “You’re fine.”

  He opened the door of his vehicle for her and caught another hint of fragrance.

  “You need a corsage.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He walked around to the driver’s side of his vehicle. Kay was right. A flower would detract rather than enhance. He got in and started the engine.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  “Charlotte. That’s enough for now.”

  Kay was going to play this evening out her way. So far, Scott had no complaints. He drove out of the apartment complex and in a few minutes they were on the road to the city.

  Kay was in a talkative mood, and after a few minutes, Scott stopped being overwhelmed by her appearance and settled into the conversation. She was full of questions. Nothing about the bomb explosion and the death of Steve Robinson. They’d already covered that territory. She peppered him with questions about his childhood up to the time they’d dated.

  “Why didn’t you call me when you were home on leave?” she asked. “Everything stopped so abruptly.”

  “I called, but you had started dating Bill Corbin. He was one of my friends, and I didn’t want to create confusion.”

  “Bill Corbin?” she asked with surprise. “I never dated him.”

  “Yeah. I talked to your father, and he told me that you and Bill had gone to Charlotte.”

  Kay laughed. “I remember. We had to buy supplies for an art project. All we did was share a car ride. He took me straight home.”

  “Oh.”

  Scott suddenly wondered how different his life might have been if he’d not given up so easily. They drove in silence for a few moments.

  “Are you thinking of what could have been?” Kay guessed.

  Scott didn’t lie. “Yes.”

  “Don’t do it. We’ve both made mistakes. Mine have been much worse than yours. The important thing is how we’re living our lives today.”

  “Carpe diem. Seize the day.”

  “Yes, only I want to grab what’s important, not just focus on surface things.”

  “Does that mean I can’t tell you how beautiful you are?”

  Kay smiled. “Thanks, but more than how I look on the outside, I want to be beautiful on the inside.”

  Scott thought for a second before responding. He suspected Kay meant the way God was changing how she looked at life.

  “So, should I say God has made you beautiful?” he asked.

  Kay patted his arm. “If you said that to me, it would be the greatest compliment of my life.”

  When they reached the outskirts of Charlotte, he said, “Time for more directions. Which road?”

  “South Boulevard near Uptown.”

  From its beginning point in the center of the city, South Boulevard crossed over the two abandoned gold mines that had attracted settlers to the Charlotte area in the 1840s. Many of the older buildings in the area had been renovated and converted to expensive condominiums, shops, and restaurants. Fart
her out, it was less chic.

  “Are we going to the South 21 Drive-In?” he asked. “I wouldn’t mind eating in the car.”

  “No.”

  Two blocks later, Kay pointed. “Turn in there.”

  It was the Barrymore Restaurant—the place where Scott and Kay ate before the high-school prom.

  Scott laughed. “I’m dense. I should have guessed.”

  “Yes. You’re not as smart as I thought. The questions I asked about the past were a huge clue.”

  The restaurant had valet parking by boys about the same age as Scott when he’d brought Kay twelve years before. Then, it had been awkward giving the keys to his father’s car to someone his own age. Now, he didn’t give it a second thought. Kay had made a reservation.

  When they were seated, she asked, “Notice anything else?”

  Scott looked her over again from her head to her hands holding the menu. The diamonds around her neck sparkled in the candlelight. There was a lot to notice.

  “Not me,” she corrected. “The restaurant.”

  He glanced around the fancy establishment. White tablecloths, older waiters carrying bottles of wine, a man playing a piano softly in the bar area. Couples like themselves dressed up for a special occasion and a few businessmen on an unlimited expense account.

  “No, it looks the same.”

  “It is. This is the table where we sat. I remembered because it was next to the steps leading up to the bar.”

  Scott tried to bring back the scene but couldn’t capture it.

  “I’ll have to trust you. It was like tonight. I was so caught up with your beauty that no other details remain in my memory bank.”

  Kay smiled. “You’re much smoother than you were at age eighteen. Actually, you spent a lot of time during dinner talking with Perry Dixon.”

  Scott grimaced. “Is it too late to apologize?”

  “Yes. Do you remember what we ate?”

  “Steak?” he guessed. The restaurant was locally famous for its filet mignon.

  “Right, but I won’t press you for anything else.”

  The waiter took their order and brought out salads.

  “What happened to Linda, the girl who was dating Perry?” Kay asked.

 

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