by Joe Russell
The two sides of the aisle might as well have been an ocean, the way it appeared to separate those who had shown up to watch. On the one side, seated behind Dave and his legal team, were his family, friends, and a few people from his work, church, and other parts of his life. They were generally a respectable crowd, dressing appropriately and behaving themselves. The other side of the courtroom was a different story, however. Sitting behind the prosecutor’s table was Larry and his family. Larry’s face was almost scary to look at, with a black and purple lump where the bridge of his nose used to be. Larry gave Dave more than one detesting glare throughout the course of the trial. Dave had no issue with country people by any means, as he considered himself to be one. But this brood was pure white trash, the type that gives country folk a bad image, and advertised it with pathetic pride from the way they dressed to the way they acted toward Dave’s supporters, and every way in between. More than once, the judge had to ask them to quiet down and demand order.
The preliminary hearing, at least the part where the prosecution presented their case, was a joke. The District Attorney didn’t exactly try to justify Larry’s presence at Paul and Marie’s home, nor did she bother to scrutinize Dave and Paul’s use of lethal force against Damian and Jon, the man who Dave had killed with his pistol. Dave supposed there was just too much evidence that those two had been actively threatening his grandparents to argue that the level of force against them was justified. And the nasty scar on Dave’s arm only helped. What she did argue was that Dave’s ‘ruthless’ attack on Larry, when considered in light of his subsequent statements to the police, was not only unnecessary but suggested that Dave wanted Larry to suffer, and beyond what was justified under West Virginia state law.
Typically, defendants in these types of cases didn’t testify on their own behalf because it gave the prosecution a direct opportunity to rip them open, especially if they were clearly guilty. However, in part because he was clearly innocent and in part because his attorney was confident that he could present his case clearly himself, Dave took the stand when the prosecution rested their bullshit case. Through questions prompted by his attorney, Dave explained rationally and thoroughly what had taken place that day, including why he had chosen to deal with Larry the way he had. He explained that because his grandparents were inside, presumably being attacked by younger, probably armed men, Dave didn’t want to alert those inside to his presence, lest he create a hostage situation and make things worse for his grandparents.
When it came time for the prosecutor to cross examine him, Dave stood his ground confidently. He was asked a series of questions that were obviously meant to trip him up, and the way the nasty woman snarled in his face was clearly intended to make him angry and lash out in such a way that would make the notion that he had a dark side much more believable. This particular DA was well-known in the area for being over-zealous, routinely over-prosecuting whenever possible, for no other apparent reason than to get off on the power it brought her. Not that most prosecutors are generally regarded as good, honest people, but this one was said to be one of the worst in the state and Dave had no problem believing that. It was obvious to everyone in attendance, at least on Dave’s side of the room, that the prosecution had no case, had bitten off more than they could chew, and by being too stubborn to back down when they had the chance, was now going down in flames. After only a few minutes of her twisted interrogations backfiring in the face of Dave’s rational and level-headed responses, she hurled one more accusatory question at him.
“You wanted this man to suffer for what he did, didn’t you?”
Dave had responded coolly. “I told you why I did what I did.”
“But you were hoping he’d suffer. You wanted him to die like the others!” she spat back, in a way that made Dave almost physically recoil, though he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.
“No. With God as my witness, not ever, including that day, has my intention been to hurt anyone in cold blood. But when a good man stumbles upon his grandparents being viciously attacked in their own home, there’s only one thing he should want to do; stop it.” He paused before continuing, but his cold gaze never left the prosecutor’s face. “Those men made a choice to do evil that day, and any consequences they reaped as a result of their wicked judgement is on them. When I acted that day, under extreme pressure, with no warning of what was going to happen, I had one concern. It wasn’t about the welfare of those men, nor was it about causing them harm. It was about stopping them from hurting my grandparents and I’m not sorry to say that I’m glad we-” he turned his gaze to lock eyes for a moment with his grandfather in the third row back, then back to the prosecutor, “succeeded in doing just that.” He sat back in his seat and maintained his eye contact with the prosecutor, as if to declare a checkmate. The prosecutor glared back at him for an awkward moment, unable to hide her resentment toward this defendant who could actually defend himself, and then declared that she had no further questions.
✽ ✽ ✽
Dave’s mother, Grace, had watched the preliminary trial with mixed feelings of excitement and disgust. The arguments that the prosecutor was making and the way she was talking to Dave was sickening. Of course, she couldn’t help but be a little biased, but it was obvious to her that Dave was not guilty of any of the ridiculous claims the woman was making. She found herself getting so angry that she had to make a conscious effort to remain silent and let Dave’s attorney handle the trial. What made it even more difficult, was that the morons on the other side of the courtroom seemed to have no filter or self-restraint. And they certainly didn’t seem to understand that Larry, or worse, the other two men, who they had come to show support for were, in her mind, obviously the guilty ones here. She understood that different people were certainly entitled to their own opinions, including those pertaining to self-defense, but she just couldn’t understand how someone’s own family member would not recognize that if someone gets hurt or killed while going out of their way to harm others, especially the elderly, that’s on them. Period. Honestly, she wished Dave would have killed that little piece of shit that sat in the courtroom now. What made matters worse was that one particular woman, who looked to be a rough forty years old, almost twenty years younger than herself, kept eyeing her and others in their group with a look that could kill. Almost like the trashy woman wanted to fight right then and there. Grace figured that this must be Larry’s mother, and despite wanting to knock out the teeth the woman still had, did her best to ignore it.
After all statements from both sides were made, it was time for the judge to recess back into his chambers, supposedly to review the evidence presented and determine whether or not there was probable cause for the subject charges. If there was, the case would go on to the Grand Jury and likely end up going to a Jury trial. If there wasn’t, he would throw it out and that would be the end of it. When the Judge took his leave from the courtroom, Grace decided she needed to step out, use the restroom, and get some fresh air. Despite her offense to the ridiculous claims of the prosecution, she was pleased with how the trial had gone, because she believed that it wasn’t just herself who saw through it all. Through Dave’s well-spoken and clearly truthful answers, his attorney’s expert handling of the evidence, and the prosecutor’s own self-destructive behavior (especially in direct comparison with Dave’s drama-free countenance), she was confident that this would be the end of it. She knew most preliminary trials were not thrown out, but believed this was a typical but relatively extreme case of a prosecutor overstepping with little or no oversight and this judge, who fortunately had a reputation of being what Dave would have called a conservative patriot (although he had thus far appeared to have a professionally neutral stance) was not going to let her get away with it. That was her hope, anyway.
When the rest of the courtroom took their seats after rising with the judge’s departure from the courtroom, Grace remained standing and exited to the hallway in the back. She found the restroom and went ins
ide it to an empty stall. When she was finished, she opened the stall door, stepped out, and what she saw in front of her stopped her cold in her tracks. Standing between her and the door with a chillingly hateful expression on her face, stood the woman who had been watching her in the courtroom.
Grace stood there, uncertain of what to do. She wasn’t exactly scared, at least for her physical safety. Despite being in her late fifties, Grace had been a star athlete in college and remained active, taking good care of her body. This woman, although almost young enough to be her daughter, was shorter and squatty. Yes, that was a good way to put it. She wasn’t fat, as fat people went, but she looked like she was clearly no physical match for Grace. However, Grace thought, crazy can be a big factor in this kind of situational judgement.
After a few long moments of the catty staring contest, the woman finally spoke with an overly dramatic coldness that Grace might have laughed at, had she not been in the midst of a potentially volatile situation. “How does it feel to be the mother of a murderer?” The words oozed out of her mouth.
Grace was taken aback, not sure exactly how to answer such a ridiculous and obviously provocative question. She didn’t want to pick a fight with this woman, physically or metaphorically, but this was just too much, and this woman was clearly looking for one. “I don’t know,” she replied coolly, “why don’t you tell me? You were almost there.”
Grace watched the woman’s face contort after a moment or two, the way one watches the status bar on an aging computer. With no warning, other than an extra second Grace was given to anticipate how the woman would respond to her comeback, the woman let out a fierce scream of rage and charged Grace with her hands out to grab her. Letting instinct take over, Grace lunged to her right at the last moment, causing the woman’s grasping hands to miss her and then quickly gave the woman a shove, deflecting her to the side as her squatty body came abreast with Grace’s. The woman, still trying to grasp desperately for Grace like a crazed animal but reacting too slowly to succeed, tripped over her own feet and hit the front edge of the marble sink countertop hard and square with the bridge of her nose. From the sickening crunching sound of it, Grace guessed that the woman’s nose was shattered and ironically, likely going to make her already aesthetically-challenged face match that of her surviving son. The woman went down hard on the floor, hands holding her now bloody face and screaming in pain and rage.
Grace stood motionless and watched, unsure of what to do. She was scared of what this would look like and didn’t know whether to help the woman, run for help, or stomp her in the back of the head. She turned and jumped when she noticed that there was someone else in the doorway, then recognized her. It was the clerk who had been present in the courtroom the whole time. Grace stared at the woman, frozen. Her gaze must have expressed her anxiety because the woman advanced and put a gentle hand on Grace’s arm and said reassuringly, “I saw everything.”
✽ ✽ ✽
The Judge re-emerged from his chamber and entered the courtroom to announce his verdict in what must have been near-record time. After waiting a few seconds longer than he would have preferred, and his face showing his feelings a little more than before to those who were paying attention, he cleared his throat and began speaking.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began in a commanding voice, “after close consideration of the evidence and testimony presented here today, I have concluded that there is not sufficient probable cause to indict the defendant, Mr. Galanos, on any charges brought by the state of West Virginia.”
He hadn’t even finished speaking before Larry’s side of the courtroom erupted in protest. The Judge angrily hammered the gavel and demanded order, then continued.
“Furthermore, I would like to take the opportunity to say,” he turned his gaze to lock eyes with the prosecutor, “that I am appalled that the State would even attempt to prosecute under such ridiculous circumstances. I am personally offended that such a blatant molestation of our justice system has taken place in my courtroom today, and will not stand for this in the future.” He then turned his gaze to Larry, who refused to meet it. “And you, young man,” the Judge thundered, not caring that the cowering man was not looking at him, “should be the one at the defendant’s table. How dare you have the audacity to admit to taking part in such an abominable act as attacking the elderly, then showing your face in this courtroom as if you’re the victim. Mark my words, you’d better make sure you don’t end up in my courtroom again because I will have no mercy on you.” Then finally, he shifted his gaze to Dave who met it with solemn confidence. “Mr. Galanos,” he began, in a much less stern tone, “I would like to apologize on behalf of the State for this trouble. You have been through enough, having been forced into a fight that you clearly didn’t ask for.” He shot Larry a stern look, who recoiled as if something had been thrown at him. Looking back to Dave, the Judge continued, “You did the right thing in defending yourself and your family, and I would like to say ‘thank you’ for your bravery. Your grandparents are blessed to have you as a grandson.”
✽ ✽ ✽
When the trial was adjourned, both groups of supporters filed out of the courtroom under the watchful eye of the Judge and bailiff. Dave knew that there were some on the other side that were barely holding themselves back from attacking him right now, but figured that even they were smart enough to realize what that would result in. Still, as if responding to Dave’s un-asked request, his friend Will was close at his side, ready to defend him if the need arose. As people went, Dave was no dainty wuss, but men that would want to go hand-to-hand, even as a pack, against Will were few and far between. Dave was not ashamed of anything, but for the sake of doing his part to prevent any outbursts from the opposing crowd, he kept his eyes trained on where he was walking and avoided eye contact with anyone not there on his behalf.
The people moved outside and down the large front steps to the open area between the courthouse and the street. Naturally, many people milled around in groups, instead of immediately returning to their cars and leaving and just as naturally, two distinctly segregated groups formed on opposite sides of the large concrete walkway. Dave was ecstatic by the recent turn of events and happy to be surrounded by many of his closest friends and family when it really mattered. However, he looked around and realized that his Mom was nowhere to be seen. He asked his Dad, who was standing nearby, if he knew where she was.
“She went to use the bathroom before the Judge gave his verdict,” he replied. “I guess she’s still in there.”
Dave looked around nervously, feeling like a herd of antelope with a pack of hyenas stalking close by. “Maybe we should go get her, just to be safe.”
At that moment, a commotion from nearby began to grow and Dave turned to find the other crowd approaching, not looking happy and at the helm, was none other than Larry himself. He pointed and screamed, “This asshole’s bitch of a mom just attacked my mom in the bathroom!”
Dave didn’t know what to do. He didn’t believe that it could be true, both because he knew his mother wouldn’t do that, at least without justification, and because with the way the Judge had ruled, there was no reason for her to act that way. He was in the process of beginning to think that it was much more likely that Larry’s mother had been the one who’d picked a fight, if indeed a fight had been picked at all, when Larry burst forward to charge at Dave. Dave snapped out of his state of mental analysis and braced himself for the attack, but it never got to him. When Larry was about five or six feet from Dave, he saw Will step forward out of his peripheral and deliver a devastating Thai kick to Larry’s ribs. Will’s massive shin made perfect contact and Larry’s scrawny body looked as if he had been hit by an invisible car when he flew ass over heels backward and crumpled to a heap on the concrete behind him, hacking and cradling his likely fractured ribcage in a pitiful fetal position. Several others in the pack behind Larry took a step forward looking ready to join the fight, but appeared to reconsider at the sight of Will, s
tanding defiantly in front of his group, clearly ready to hand down the same punishment to the next assailant. Dave stepped up to Will’s side and the two made brief eye contact before turning their stone-cold gazes back to the hostile group in front of them. Dave wasn’t sure what would happen next, but he’d had enough of these people unrightfully playing the victim at his expense, and if they were going to bring the fight to him again, he was going to fight back and hard. They’d had it coming for a while.
It didn’t happen, though. Deputies from the courthouse poured out of the front doors and swarmed the mob, instructing both sides to get back away from each other. Dave thought that someone in the group must have seen the whole thing transpire, because despite the fact that the only casualty of the short-lived clash belonged to Larry’s side, the police appeared to be much more forceful with them than Dave’s people. Two deputies grabbed Larry under each arm and dragged him to his feet as a third, slapped handcuffs on his wrists behind his back. Larry screamed in rage and pain as this occurred. As the deputies began dragging him backward, back toward the entrance to the courthouse, the berserked man locked eyes with Dave and shouted, “This isn’t over, Galanos!”