South of Main Street

by Robert Gately

  Judge Brady was perfectly content in sitting back in his chair and waiting for Henry to feel comfortable enough to speak. Henry should take his time and the Judge was trying to imply that with his countenance.

  “I took the money out twice for Wheezy and Joe,” Henry finally said.

  “Who’s Wheezy and Joe, Henry?” the Judge asked.

  “They’re my friends who live under the bridge.”

  The Judge nodded, recalling Wheezy’s appearance in court on a couple of occasions for vagrancy and solicitation violations. He looked to Robin. “Do you know who they are?” he asked.

  Robin nodded “I’m aware of who there are, Your Honor.”

  “Why did you give them money, Henry?”

  “Because they needed clothes and food. And medicine.”

  “Did you buy them clothes and food, or did you give them money for clothes and food?”

  “I gave Wheezy two … three hundred dollars, I forget. Maybe more. She jumped out in front of me one day and begged and begged and said that Joe was dying because he didn’t have enough to eat, so I went to the bank and got the money and gave it to her. But … but …”

  “But what Henry?”

  “Joe died today.”

  A momentary silence filled the room. The Judge felt sad hearing about Joe. He wished Coalsville was more sensitive to the people who struggled to live in it. It’s a typical town, he thought. We should have more soup kitchens, more housing for the destitute.

  “I am sorry to hear that,” Judge Brady said, “but what about these other times when you took out money from the bank? Why did you take out money these other times, Henry?”

  “I took the money out a few other times because Dixie owed money to a very bad person in town.”

  The Judge noticed Sharon looking to the back of the courtroom. He followed her gaze and saw Dixie peeking through the door.

  “Who’s that in the back,” the Judge asked. “Is that Dixie Swanson I see back there?”

  “Yes, Judge,” Sharon said. “I asked her to come as well as Mr. Kruchuk, the co-owner of the Main Street pharmacy. They both have important testimony.”

  “Is there anyone else?” The Judge inquired.

  “No, Judge.”

  “All right. Then, go get them.”

  Sharon went to the back of the room and disappeared behind the door. The Judge winced at the loud questions the reporters threw at Sharon as the door opened and closed. “These are the times that try my patience,” he said then got up and walked to the door.

  Sharon returned with Dixie and Mr. Kruchuk close behind. “Take a seat,” the Judge commanded, and then stood at the doorway. He looked out at the several reporters and a TV cameraman who immediately stopped talking. A hush hung in the hallway. The Judge smiled and held an imperial pose. “Listen up, everyone,” he said. “There’s nothing to be learned here today by you fellas. I know I can’t order you to leave, so I’m going to ask you pleasantly to please leave the building.”

  The media people stood there, apparently waiting for someone to make the first move. Finally, a reporter piped in, “Your Honor, we do have a right to be here, you know.”

  “Yes. I know that, John. And I have the right to impose a ‘black out’ on the news media when I think your presence inhibits my ability to do my job. Like, for example, on a more newsworthy event, when having access would be very important to your editor and publisher, who I play golf with, by the way. Catch my drift?”

  Everyone in the hallway caught the Judge’s drift and left, peacefully, although some grumbled. Grumbling was something the Judge could accept, so he went back inside the courtroom.

  * * *

  Dixie placed a paperback book on the seat next to her, and on top of the book was a small rectangular box. It was a gift she had wrapped in a brown paper grocery bag for Henry.

  Henry looked over to her and smiled. He reached into his pocket, retrieved the wrapped Christmas gift, waved it and pointed to her, indicating that it was a gift he had bought for her. She acknowledged his act of kindness and picked up her gift and waved it at him.

  “For me?” Henry whispered. Dixie nodded, and this seemed to perk Henry up a bit.

  The Judge took his seat. “All right,” he said, and then rubbed his head and face furiously with both hands, like he was trying to massage out his frustrations.

  “Who should I talk to first?” He directed the question to Sharon.

  “Mr. Kruchuk. He’s the co-owner of the …”

  “I know who Mr. Kruchuk is. Why are we talking to him, may I ask?”

  “Because I think he has some information concerning my father’s ability to distinguish between reality and fantasy.”

  Robin bolted out of her seat and, “Judge, please! Mr. Kruchuk is not a psychologist.”

  The Judge moaned. “I’m sorry, Judge,” Sharon said. “Let me rephrase it. Mr. Kruchuk can shed some light on my father’s behavior while working at the pharmacy.”

  “Please. Mr. Kruchuk, come up here and sit next to me. Keep me company, won’t you?” Mr. Kruchuk rose and sat in the chair next to the Judge. “This way I can talk softly, and we can have a meaningful conversation. Now, tell me, what is Sharon talking about?”

  Dixie listened to Kruchuk explain to the judge about Henry’s tenure at the pharmacy. Everyone in the room got a clear picture of Henry giving store items away without seeking the proper monetary exchange. They got a little editorial exposé that carelessly defined Henry’s mental capacity and heard Robin’s objection again that Mr. Kruchuk was NOT a psychologist. The Judge reminded Robin that this was NOT a trial and thanked Mr. Kruchuk for his insight. But before he was excused, the Judge allowed Robin to ask questions.

  “Was my father keeping a record of the items he was giving away, Mr. Kruchuk?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Kruchuk said. “I believe he was.”

  “Do you know why he was keeping a record?”

  “Well, according to him, it was because he was going to pay for the items later on.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Kruchuk,” Robin said, then looked at the Judge as if to say, ‘What’s the big deal?’

  As she sat down, Mr. Kruchuk abruptly added, “But at the rate he was giving away things, Mr. Wolff’s paycheck wouldn’t have covered the cost of the items.”

  Robin smacked the table and yelled, “Conjecture. Immaterial.”

  Judge Brady groaned. “You may go back to work if you want, Mr. Kruchuk,” the Judge said. Mr. Kruchuk stepped down and left the courtroom.

  “Judge, I can get a very different point of view from Asa Adler about what transpired at the pharmacy,” Robin offered. “He was the one who actually hired and fired my father and I would like him to come in here and give his side of the story.”

  The Judge tossed Robin a wide-eyed look. “All right, Robin. We can do that, but for now let’s just play this out my way, okay? Trust me.”

  Judge Brady switched his attention to Dixie. He patted the chair and waved for her to come up and sit.

  She got up with the paperback book in one hand and the Christmas present in the other. Feeling timid and shy, she slowly walked past the bar and subtly sat the book down on the table close to Sharon. She then took a seat next to the Judge and fiddled with the Christmas gift in her hand.

  “Is that for me?” the Judge joked.

  “No. It’s for Henry.” She looked at Henry and smiled. Henry smiled back and held up his present for her.

  “Well, that’s nice.” The Judge’s smile seemed genuine and this made Dixie feel a little more at ease. “No need to be nervous, Dixie,” the Judge added. She nodded and waited for instructions.

  “Well, Dixie, it’s nice to see you here when I don’t have to scold you for breaking any laws.” The Judge smiled. “It’s been said that Henry has given you money. Something tells me more than just a kind spirit motivated this act of generosity. I have a feeling he was cajoled somehow. You want to tell me why he gave you money?”

  “Well, you’
re going to find out anyway, so I might as well tell you the truth.”

  The Judge chuckled. “That will be refreshing, Dixie. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me the truth.”

  “I owed money to someone …” She wanted to say more but couldn’t summon the courage.

  “You owed money to someone. Hmm. And Henry gave you money so you could pay off this loan?”

  “Yes.”

  “But he gave you money twice. Three times, I think. What for, Dixie? Come on, come on. Increase the level of honesty here.”

  “I owed money for drugs, Your Honor.”

  “I see.”

  “No, Your Honor. I don’t think you see. I’m really trying to stop doing that stuff. It’s hard, you know. This guy is waving some really good stuff in front of me and tells me I can pay the man later. It’s hard to just walk away. So … I create this situation where I owe money to a guy who’s not so nice. He can hurt you real bad, Judge, so I can’t tell you his name on account of … you know, I’ll get slashed or something.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” the Judge said. “I know every dealer in this town, Dixie. This is not an out-of-towner, is he?”

  “No.”

  “Then you’re probably talking about one of three possible people. Okay. Continue.”

  “Anyway, Henry here, he’s the only person in this town who’ll give me the time of day. He’s the only person I trust. He helped me take care of my bills, if you know what I mean?”

  “Yes, I think I do, Dixie.” Quite a few seconds went by without anyone saying anything. Sharon raised her hand like a school kid. “Yes, Sharon. What is it?”

  “Judge, may I ask Dixie a couple of questions?”

  The Judge weighed in on whether to allow Sharon to question Dixie. But, possibly, given her agenda, she might get to the truth quicker. So, he allowed.

  “A couple of weeks ago it snowed,” Sharon began. “Do you remember?

  “Yes,” Dixie replied

  “Would you mind telling the Judge what happened that day, what you saw with respect to Henry’s behavior? The scene with Danny Petzinger and the rocks. And if you wouldn’t mind, tell the Judge also what happened that same day when Henry was teaching you and Danny and Tommy how to fly.”

  Robin bolted to her feet and yelled, “I’m sorry, Judge Brady, but I have to object. Why must we listen to this?”

  “Robin! … nothing’s going to be said here that doesn’t need to be said. If you want, I’ll allow you to ask a few questions when Sharon is finished. Ok?”

  The Judge looked at everyone at once, and spoke to them all. “Whatever is said here this morning will remain unsaid outside these walls. The information here is private. Is that understood by everyone?” The Judge looked at each person and got a head nod from everyone before he continued. “Good. Now, Dixie, if you have anything to offer, go ahead and say it.”

  Dixie explained what she saw from curbside while watching Henry and Danny pick up rocks from Henry’s backyard. She told the Judge that Henry loaded Danny’s backpack up with rocks while never seeing Henry putting a single rock in his own backpack. She explained how Danny got angry and threw the backpack down. In this rendition, she explained how Mr. Petzinger came out and stalked Henry by the shed and looked like he was going to beat on Henry, but didn’t. Petzinger just vanished and went back into his house, she told the Judge.

  After she finished with the backpack incident, she began to explain her recollection of what happened at the park and about jumping off the bench telling everyone they could fly.

  “Now, I want you to be clear about this, Dixie,” the Judge said. “Did you hear Henry Wolff say to Tommy that he could fly? I mean literally, ‘jump-off-the-roof-kind-of fly?’

  Dixie looked over to Sharon who was fidgeting with the paperback book, sliding it back and forth, teasing Dixie. Dixie knew that the answer to this question would have a chilling effect on the Judge’s decision and it would also be a deciding factor on whether she would get the two hundred dollars. There was no wine to confuse her this time. She thought about lying to save Henry and forget about the money, but when the Judge added, “I need an honest answer, Dixie,” she decided to tell the truth.

  Dixie made a break from Sharon’s stare and tilted her head down and said, “Yes. Henry was jumping off the bench and telling us we could fly.” And then, in a sudden burst of energy, Dixie looked right at the judge and continued, “But we all knew that he was just faking it. I mean, everyone knows we can’t fly.”

  “Are you sure Tommy knew Henry was faking it?”

  Dixie didn’t say anything. She understood the Judge’s point. No one could possibly know what was in another person’s mind. That was impossible to know unless you had ESP or something like that. She sensed she had just told the judge something that could be used against Henry. A glance at Sharon’s face revealed a smug smile. A little turn at the corner of the mouth. Dixie looked over to Henry and he gave her a big smile. Dixie wanted to cry.

  Then, all of a sudden, Robin popped up and said, “Judge?”

  Judge Brady nodded and Robin walked towards Dixie. “Do you consider yourself a good friend of Henry’s?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is this how you repay the only person who’ll give you the time of day? The only person who you trust?”

  “Robin,” the Judge interjected. “Ask appropriate questions please.”

  “Isn’t it true, Dixie, that you stole Henry’s coin collection?”

  “I did not.”

  “Well, the coins are gone, Dixie. And I saw you fondling them like they were your own a couple of weeks ago.”

  Dixie immediately looked at Henry and said, “Henry, I didn’t take your coin collection. I didn’t. Honest.”

  “Honest. Do I need to bring your mother in here to talk about how you have been HONEST over the years?”

  “All right, Robin, that’s enough,” the Judge finally said.

  “Judge Brady, I don’t think you should take the testimony of an addict and thief seriously.”

  “It’s not testimony, Robin. It’s just information. Now stop it.”

  Robin sat and the Judge told Dixie that she was free to go. Dixie watched Sharon slip the money into the book as she got off the chair. She walked up to the book, hesitated for a brief second and then snatched it. As she walked past Henry, she handed him the gift she had for him.

  “Wait! Wait,” Henry said. He fumbled to get his gift for Dixie.

  Dixie accepted Henry’s gift and muttered a simple, “I’m sorry,” and walked to the back of the room and sat down.

  “You’re free to go if you want, Dixie,” the Judge said.

  “I’ll stay for a little while if you don’t mind, Judge Brady.”

  “Suit yourself,” the Judge said and then turned to Sharon. “I’m assuming there’s more.” But Sharon didn’t respond. “I have to be honest with you, Sharon. What you presented so far doesn’t constitute a case to …”

  “I have something else,” Sharon blurted out. She got up and made a motion for the chair next to the Judge but he waved at her to sit back down and talk from where she was.

  “You’re close enough so you don’t have to yell. Talk from there.”

  * * *

  Sharon sat and put her hands together and lowered her head so the tips of her fingers touched her mouth, as if she were praying. But she wasn’t praying. Sharon’s thoughts were on the choice of words she wanted to use. She began slowly, picking her them carefully, saying the words softly, describing her feelings honestly.

  “Judge, from statements made by my mother, I can tell you that my father was, at one time, fully capable of handling life on its own terms. He was functional and charming. My mother fell in love with Dad when they were in their early twenties. They were both very much in love. Then my father went to Granada. He went in a very healthy man, emotionally and physically. War is terrible, of course, and something happened to him in Granada …”

  “Sharon,” Robin ye
lled. “Where are you going with this?”

  “Please let your sister talk,” the Judge said.

  “My father came home a changed man. Granada wasn’t a big deal, but people were killed and killing people can change a person, I guess. He had that war syndrome. Post Traumatic Stress.”

  Robin stood and yelled, “SHARON …”

  “Robin, please,” the Judge said.

  “My Dad,” Sharon continued, “according to my mother, had a problem drinking when he came back from overseas. That complicated matters.”

  “SHARON! STOP!”

  The Judge picked up his gavel and slammed it down hard. “Robin. Please. Sit. I’ll have you removed from this court if I have to. The bailiff is in the next room.”

  Robin sat but she looked as if she might jump over the table and grab hold of Sharon’s neck if she continued to talk.

  “We had a brother, Your Honor. I never knew him because he died when I was real young. Crib death, everyone thought.”

  Robin had her elbows on the table and her hands were clenched around the back of her head, nursing her stress.

  * * *

  Henry stared straight ahead and his mind drifted while Sharon was telling this story. He found a quiet, mental place where there was solace, comfort, and protection. Today, it was a stone house that could withstand the fiercest of storms. In his mind, he huddled within its walls, feeling safe for the moment – his la-la land. He heard the words, as if he were listening from behind the wall.

  “One day in the afternoon, shortly after his discharge from the Marines, my father came home from a drinking binge. My mom was doing the laundry down in the basement. My Dad went upstairs and took Johnny out of his bassinet and brought him to his bedroom and put him on the bed …”

  Henry heard Robin yell and the sounds of a gavel pounding a wood square on the desk. Henry’s retreat from reality was becoming harder and harder to maintain. The mortar between the stones was loosening and the very rocks providing protection were now slipping from their assigned position. As the yelling continued, the mortar was turning to sand and the stones were falling one by one until, eventually, they provided no protection at all. He was out in the open. The fierce storm was black, evil and pounding against his body over and over and over again.