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A Litterer Goes to Court
from the book: Life Will Get You in the End:
Short stories by David Satterlee
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| Life Will Get You in the End: Short Stories by David Satterlee |
A Litterer Goes to Court
A little boy threw something out
the window of his school bus. The driver saw him and gave him a note to take
home to be signed. This little guy is bright, full of life, and his eyes shine
with hope, joy, and irrepressible potential. Why had he done this and what is
to be done?
Coming in the door, our intrepid
miscreant meets his waiting grandmother. I can imagine his apprehension and
hesitation. He already knows he’s in some kind of trouble. Worse yet, Grandma
is a retired elementary school teacher. Grasshopper stands nervously in front
of Master. She sees instantly that something is amiss. Still, she doesn’t
hesitate to reward his homecoming with her biggest smile and warmest hug.
“Can I go out and play with Bobby?”
“What are you
holding?”
“A note.”
“Well, then I had
better read it.”
The usual suspect reluctantly
surrenders the charges against him to the officer of the court and examination
begins.
“What did you throw out the window?”
“I don’t remember.”
“A piece of paper.”
“Why?”
“A boy told me too.”
“Why?”
“I don’t remember.”
“What did the bus
driver say?”
“I don’t remember.”
Grandma is no fool. “Well then,
I need you to sit on this chair and try to remember while I finish cooking
supper.”
For our little boy, time passes
like he were crossing a turbid stream. He cannot see his feet nor the uneven
bottom of the stream bed where he must place them. Surging water constantly
threatens his balance. He is alone; with no one to hold his hand. The far bank
is in sight, but his immediate future is clearly at risk.
Granny loves him enough to let
him suffer for a while. Eventually—no, actually at a thoughtfully chosen
interval—Granny turns from her work and, offering a reassuring smile, resumes
the interrogation. “What did the bus driver say?”
“He said, ‘That was stupid.’”
Granny’s diaphragm spasms and
she barely suppresses the impulse to cackle hysterically. “Well, do you think
it was stupid?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“You know you shouldn’t litter.” Grandma has
made a misstep, but she doesn’t realize it yet. She had him on the defensive
but has just appealed to the knowledge and rationality of a prepubescent child.
Seizing the opportunity to
object, he asserts himself. “But I wasn’t littering.”
“You threw paper out the window.”
“But, littering is when you throw a can out
the window.” A cunning twitch of satisfaction caresses his lips. But now he has
made a misstep; forgetting that he is arguing against prosecutor, judge, and
jury.
“Littering is when you throw
anything on the ground.” Objection denied. There is no further response from
the accused; he has no recourse but to throw himself upon the mercy of the
court. The verdict is in and It is all over except for the defendant’s
statement and the reading of the sentence.
“How do you feel about your littering?”
“It was wrong.”
“Should you do things
just because another boy tells you to?”
His pupils dilate momentarily as
he considers the potential loophole of being told to do something by a girl.
Sanity returns. “No.”
“What should you have said to the boy that told you to do
it?”
“I should have said, ‘I’m not stupid.’”
“Do you promise to not litter like that
again?” “Like that,” she said. Grandma has deliberately given him some
discretionary wiggle room. He understands that he just got a suspended sentence
with probation. This will be a test of his character.
“Yes, I promise.” No hesitation.
No caveats. Just so. Well done. She signs his note and hands it back. The trial
is over and the jury is dismissed.
“Okay, then I guess you have
about fifteen minutes to play with Bobby before coming in for supper.” He
glances at his wristwatch. Granny knows that he will be back soonish. She bends
down to give him a hug and kiss before he dashes off.
Hesitating, he looks back
briefly and says “I love you.” They both know that his record has already been
expunged.
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