Gables Court

by Alan S. Kessler

  “Bailiff, please swear them in,” the judge ordered before Samuel could object. “Mr. Baas, you may proceed.”

  “I-I would like to question Mr. Horowitz.”

  “Then call him as your witness,” Judge Kowalski said impatiently.

  “The plaintiff calls,” Samuel’s voice became a little stronger, “Seymour Horowitz.”

  Short, his face soft, Horowitz took the stand and, hand on the Bible, swore to tell the truth.

  “Mr. Horowitz,” Samuel began.

  “Yes, that’s my name,” Horowitz looked nervously at the judge.

  “Just relax,” Judge Kowalski told him. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Mr. Horowitz,” Samuel started again. “You are currently the tenant in Penthouse Suite B7 at 1764 Blackberry Road in Coral Gables, Florida, is that correct?”

  “Objection,” Montgomery said. “He’s leading the witness. But we’ll stipulate that Mr. Horowitz is the tenant at that address.

  “I have here the original of the lease.” Samuel approached the witness. “Is this your signature.”

  “Objection. What lease is this? Has it been marked for identification?”

  Samuel stood, not knowing what to do.

  “Hand the lease to the clerk,” the judge told him. “Clerk, mark it for identification as plaintiff’s exhibit 1, then give it back to Mr. Baas.”

  “Plaintiff’s exhibit 1,” the clerk said, and stamped the document.

  “Th-Thank you,” Samuel said, taking the lease from him. “Now, Mr. Horowitz, is this your signature?”

  “May I see the lease?” Montgomery asked. His hand trembling, Samuel handed it to him. Montgomery looked it over quickly.

  “Your Honor, we’ll stipulate that this is the lease my client signed with RHB Enterprises.”

  Samuel brought the lease over to Horowitz and continued his questioning.

  “Your rent is $425 a month, payable on the first.”

  “Objection. Leading the witness.”

  “Is your rent $425 a month, payable on the first?”

  “Objection. The document speaks for itself.”

  His mouth dry, his heart pounding, Samuel tried again.

  “What is—”

  “Mr. Baas, introduce the lease into evidence,” Judge Kowalski told him.

  “The plaintiff offers this lease signed May lst, 1971 into evidence,” Samuel said quietly.

  “No objection,” Montgomery stated, his voice booming. “We’ve already stipulated to it.”

  Samuel took the pocket square from suit jacket and wiped his face.

  “Now, Mr. Horowitz, last month you paid your rent on the fifth instead of the first, isn’t that correct?”

  “Leading. Objection.”

  “I’ll rephrase the question,” Samuel said.

  “Do it quickly,” Judge Kowalski told him.

  “Did you pay your rent late last month?”

  “Yes sir, I did,” Horowitz answered. “I sometimes do. I get busy. Until this month, Mr. Baxter always accepted my checks. I thought we were friends. That’s why I gave up my office and moved to the one I’m in now.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” the judge said.

  “Mr. Baxter wanted to have his offices in one area of the penthouse, so I agreed to sublet from him”.

  “And you would pay January’s rent and continue to honor the lease?”

  “Definitely. I have my checkbook with me.”

  “Let’s talk about your history of late payments,” Samuel said.

  “Let’s not,” the judge stated. “Do you have any questions for your client, Mr. Montgomery?”

  “None, judge.”

  “Thank you for your testimony, Mr. Horowitz. You may step down.”

  “But Your Honor, I’m not done questioning the witness,” Samuel protested.

  “Yes, Counselor, you are. Any witnesses for the defense?”

  “All the facts have been presented,” Montgomery answered.

  “Ladies and gentleman, the court will take a five minute recess,” Judge Kowalski said, addressing the jury.

  After the jurors left, the judge looked sternly at Samuel.

  “You have wasted my time, counselor. I wish your client were here so I could tell him what I think about his business ethics. This isn’t going to the jury, although I know what their verdict would be. I’m finding for the defendant and awarding attorney’s fees and costs, payable by the plaintiff. Make sure the next time I see you in my court you have a worthwhile case and do a better job with it. Bailiff, bring them back.”

  When the jurors had again sat down, the judge thanked them. Dismissed, they left, all smiling at Horowitz.

  Samuel walked over to the defense table.

  “May I have the rent check?”

  “No,” Montgomery said. “My client will mail it. I’ll send Baxter my bill.” He snapped his briefcase closed and walked out, Horowitz hurrying to catch up.

  “Whoa, the judge really had it in for you,” Gary said as they left the courtroom. “He didn’t give you a chance.”

  “I made some points, didn’t I?”

  “Sure did! It was a tough case. Perry Mason couldn’t have won it. I’ll tell you one thing, you looked great! That other guy was a slob. Shit! There’s the judge.”

  Stepping toward the elevator, Samuel kept his finger on the down arrow.

  “Mr. Baas,” Judge Kowalski said, standing behind him in a shirt and tie.

  Unable to escape, Samuel prepared himself for further humiliation and slowly turned around.

  “I was thinking about what just happened in my courtroom,” the judge said, his voice quiet, the anger in his eyes gone, replaced by…what? Samuel didn’t know, sadness and grief too commonplace to describe it. “The law is scared. Countries without a moral order become slaughterhouses. You are a young attorney with choices to make. You’ve been given a life. The dead are silent. They lie jumbled under fields of weeds. Men. Women. Children. Speak for them. Do what is just.”

  The elevator rang for down. Samuel and Gary got on, Judge Kowalski looking into Samuel’s eyes as the door closed.

  “Jesus, what was that all about?” Gary asked when again with Samuel in the lobby, the men in suits continuing to rush straight ahead as if on tracks, collisions avoided by habit. “Dead people. That was some super freaky talk. And did you see the weird tattoo on his arm? Nothing but numbers.”

  “I saw it,” Samuel said. He knew what it meant and what the judge wanted from him. But he had learned about the impermanency of values. Although for a brief time on a Sunday morning in a Baptist church he returned to spiritual understanding, rigid and pure, he left the service to again slide into flesh before marriage, a soft, enveloping love for Kate that made him feel transcendent and whole. Judge Kowalski spoke about the law as consecrated text, about lawyers who fulfilled their duty by seeking justice. Samuel believed in the judge’s values, but winning a case for your boss’s best client was more important.

  “The judge could tell this was my first case,” Samuel said as they walked to the car. “He tried to give me some advice.”

  “If he wanted to help you, he could have done it in court,” Gary remarked. “Are you going back to work?”

  “No,” Samuel answered. “Why don’t you drive.” Samuel got in, dropped his briefcase on the car floor and closed his eyes.

  I lost. Mr. Eldridge will fire me. But I don’t want father or his friend to visit him.

  At Gables Court he thanked Gary
and hoping Kate wasn’t at the library, knocked on her door.

  “Hi Samuel,” she said cheerfully, her expression quickly changing. “What’s wrong?”

  “May I come in?” His voice trembled.

  He sat at the kitchen table. Kate pulled a chair up next to him.

  “I had a trial today. It didn’t go well.”

  “What was it about?”

  “A guy owed money. I should have won.”

  “No lawyer wins all the time. I’m sure you did your best”

  “The judge didn’t even let the jury decide. I’ll be fired.”

  “Because you lost one case?”

  “Yeah. It was an important one.”

  “Then you’ll get another job. It’s not the end of the world. I know what will make you feel better.”

  Samuel wasn’t in the mood for sex.

  Kate went to the stove and opened a can.

  “Nothing’s better than chicken soup when you’re sad.”

  After they finished eating, Kate sat on the sofa, Samuel the floor, his head resting in her lap.

  “Shhhh,” she said softly while gently stroking his hair, “my little boy.”

  He would have stayed just like that the rest of the night, but Kate had to leave for the library.

  18

  The next day Samuel reluctantly went to work.

  Crystal smiled at him as seductively and wet lipped as always. Vera stood near Eldridge’s closed door.

  In the conference room, while waiting for Eldridge to stomp in, angry and appearing especially tall and Teutonic, Samuel signed eviction complaints, his signature more robotic than usual.

  Instead, Vera walked over to the table, Samuel figuring she had been instructed to fire him.

  “Thank you,” he mumbled while getting up to leave. “I appreciate all your help…”

  “Where the hell are you going? Sit down.”

  “Sure, Vera, I just thought…I mean, the Horowitz case…”

  “Yeah, Baxter stormed into Eldridge’s office and I heard him yelling, saying you were too stupid to work here or maybe you purposely blew the case because everyone knows Jews stick together. It’s true, you don’t know shit, but you’re trying. Think Eldridge cares about that? I figured you were on your way out the door. Your dad’s in Las Vegas, Baxter’s just down the hall. Now it’s all changed.”

  “It has?”

  “You don’t know who’s in there with him?”

  Samuel shook his head.

  “Your dad’s friend, Mr. Smith. He reminds me of those bald vultures that roost on the courthouse roof. I was listening. Smith is doing all the talking. You don’t have anything to worry about. It’s Eldridge who’s in trouble.” For a moment she looked like she cared, her eyes slightly less dark. “I got something interesting today,” Vera’s face again unpleasant. “Miller’s answer came in the mail. Reads like it was written by a lawyer, but no lawyer signed it. He did. Either he’s been studying up on the law or someone gave him good advice.”

  Samuel began to tell her. She cut him off.

  “I was looking for his file and found it buried in that stack over there. Stuck the answer in and put the file back. You’ve got plenty of other cases.” Vera tried to smile.

  A few minutes after she left, Smith entered and shut the door.

  “What’s with the hair?” He slid his sunglasses up. “You look like a feygele.”

  “My girlfriend…I…Hello, Mr. Smith.” Samuel stood, reached to shake hands, hesitated awkwardly, and dropped his arm.

  “Eldridge is a clown,” Smith stated. “Thinks he can stiff us for the juice.”

  “Juice?”

  “I know we’re in Florida, but I’m not talking about the orange kind! You make a loan, you pay the vig or you get squeezed. Eldridge is complaining, says he doesn’t have the money. Fuck him! I’ve heard it all before. Break an arm, and they come up with the dough real fast. But it’s easier with him. He’s got this slumlord who gave him twenty grand to hold in trust. That’s what I love about lawyers. Trust them to screw you over! He’s going to steal the man’s money and pay the vig. That part is settled. What happens next he didn’t tell me but I know his type. He’ll go to Vegas and try and win it all back. A typical fool’s bet! Shit’s going to hit the fan. Your dad will send in his legal eagles to pick up the pieces. Eldridge will be out and they’ll be in, representing Baxter. We know he’s skimming funds from the real estate investment fund. See what else you can find out that we can use in case he doesn’t play ball with us.”

  “You want me to spy?”

  “Why do you think your dad got you a job here?” the old man answered. “He wants a piece of this project. Who knows, he might even develop the land himself, build an ocean front casino. Remember what I told you when we first met. Keep your eyes open. Take this key, it will open any door. I’m going back to my pool. I’m too old for this shit. Get a haircut.” He snapped his sunglasses back down.

  Late that afternoon, Eldridge asked Samuel into his office.

  “Please, have a seat.” His blond hair, usually parted and pressed straight, fell disheveled over his forehead. He sat hunched behind the desk.

  “First, Samuel, I want to tell you that I spoke to Mr. Baxter and explained how difficult it was to try and evict Horowitz. He moved his office for us. We cashed his late rent checks. The equities were on his side. Mr. Baxter understands.”

  Samuel sat quietly, hands folded on his lap.

  Eldridge cleared his throat and continued.

  “I would like you to do some research for me. Keep your own hours. It’s not necessary to come in, you can call—yes, that’s it—call me with the citations. I’ll send you your pay each week. How does that sound?”

  Instead of ice-blue smugness, Samuel saw fear in Eldridge’s eyes.

  “What will I research?”

  “Well, let’s see…RHB Enterprises is a corporation that received a building permit for the area where Mr. Baxter wants to put up condos. What if some environmental types try and stop the project, claiming it’s protected wetlands? There’s been rumblings about that in the newspapers. Find some cases we can use, maybe dealing with substantive due process. If Mr. Baxter knows the county can’t screw around with his project, he’ll be very appreciative.”

  “What you really want is for him to think you fired me,” Samuel said.

  With the hint of a smile, a few beads of sweat on his lip, Eldridge looked at him.

  “You’re smart. Your father and Baxter have me boxed in, but I’m not checkmated. In May, we won’t renew Horowitz’s lease. He’ll be gone and this eviction fiasco forgotten. If you do discover some helpful law, I’m sure you can return sooner.”

  “To a real office?”

  “My pleasure,” Eldridge answered coldly. Then he again seemed to implode. Eyes downcast, he spoke almost inaudibly. “We’re born, die, and in between have feelings and thoughts that lead to choices. Is this freewill…” He looked at Samuel. “Do we decide our fate, Baas, or do they?”

  “Who?”

  “The Valkyries. I’ll be in and out of the office. I’m planning some business trips to Las Vegas. You should probably start on that research. ”

  “Of course,” Samuel answered. “Can I help you, Mr. Eldridge?”

  “Your father’s friend wouldn’t like that,” he answered.

  A few beers later, Samuel sat in the law library and although surrounded by the oppressive quiet, could research without pain.

  19

  Samuel hadn’t seen Kate in a week, then he did. While
on campus and walking toward the law library, he stopped and wanted to look away but couldn’t, his heart banging against his chest.

  Kate continued kissing the man.

  Was it Fred, her calculus professor?

  The world spun…

  Squeezing the metal spiral of my notebook, hoping it will tear my skin, I slump to the ground and, head bowed, feel the sun bake me. I want to melt, to flow as liquid flesh into a sewer.

  “Samuel?”

  I look up, her form blotted out by the sun.

  “Why are you sad?” she asks.

  “You kissed Fred—again.”

  “I’m sorry. That’s the last time. I love only you…”

  Samuel opened his eyes. She had told him. Sex with Fred was just for fun.

  After the man left, Samuel ran up beside her. Kate looked startled.

  “Hi!” he said cheerfully. “I was wondering if I could stop by tonight. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

  “Depends on what it is,” she said defensively.

  “Nothing heavy. I also have a gift.”

  “That’s intriguing. What time?”

  “Is 7 OK?”

  “Sure. See you then.”

  “Great!” Samuel playfully shook her hand and sprinted home.

  It was the most exciting night of his life! Star filled, scented with orchids, it surrounded him with exploding shades of gray, his identity again unified around a core of values, his skin, thoughts, bones, wired with expectancy for happiness extending past old age to the sweet grass and stone of touching graves. But before that, trips! Hugs! Love making and children!

  This wasn’t high school where he’d chicken out, staying home instead of asking Mary Wiggins to a dance. He was ready. Determined. The beers helped.

  “Did you go back to work?” Kate asked him after opening the door.

  “No, I wanted to dress how I feel.”

  “How is that?”

  “Special. How about a walk? A short one, just to the pool.”