Moose and Goose

Chapter Forty-four

Judith watches Lieutenant Muller behind his oak desk. His left elbow is pressed against the surface, and his forehead rests against the outside of his left hand's curled fingers.

His black jacket is hung on the back of his rolling chair, revealing his white and baby blue striped button-up squeezing his plump midsection.

"How old did you say you were, Miss. Jefferson," he asks while looking at her over the top of his skinny glasses.

"Oh, um, I'm nineteen," she answers with a faint smile that falls immediately when his dark blue eyes return to the sheet in front of him. The tip of his pen emits a scratching sound that sends goosebumps up her arms and itches her molars.

She glances at the frame on his desk. Its edges are painted with colorful fingerprints and uncooked macaroni. Behind a layer of glass is the face of a little girl with blonde pigtails decorated with bubblegum pink bows, missing front teeth, and dark blue eyes like his.

"You have a daughter," Judy acknowledges as her grin makes its way back onto her mouth.

Without looking up, he straightens his posture, takes the top of the frame in his left hand, and turns the frame to face himself. She draws her bottom lip inward and lowers her gaze onto her clogs.

"Okay, so I talked to the Dean of Darlington University," he begins, dropping the pen on the paper, and sitting back. "That's the name of your school, correct?"

"Uh, yes. Yes, it's," she stammers and clears her throat, but before she can finish speaking, he interjects.

"He's asked me to speak with the leader of this – whatever you call yourselves," John Muller informs her, using air quotes. She watches his bushy blond mustache bounce with each exaggerated movement of his thin lips. "And I say leader that way because, well, the activists I've come in contact with protested for things that mattered, not what type of milk should be served in the cafeteria."

He chuckles at his remark, and she darts her eyes onto the clear bowl of candy sitting next to the picture. It's filled with packets of ZotZ, Jelly Bellies, and one root beer flavored dum-dum.

"And I'll be honest with you, this whole situation, from what little I've heard and gathered, is laughable." Judith inhales, rolling her eyes. "But getting back on track, the boy says he's not the leader, and the little one burst into tears when I mentioned the charges, so she's too prissy to be my suspect."

"So you think it's me," she says with a questioning undertone, and he draws his lips into a straight line.

"Well, given the fact that there's only three of you here, I think it's fair to believe so. You're all looking at some pretty hefty charges, and I'm sorry, but I'm not fooling around," he sternly tells her. "This is serious. The last riot we had, the one in Lamar nine years ago, resulted in a bus being tipped over with people in it; black people."

"And what does that have to do with us," she asks with the shrugging of her shoulders. Her arms remain behind her back, and what little feeling she had in her fingers faded when she sat on the burgundy leather cushion. He narrows his eyes as if he's confused by her question. "Juniper, Cyrus, and I are black. The men who knocked over that bus, they were most likely white. Klansmen, to be exact."

"That's merely speculation, which I won't entertain." Judy scoffs and shakes her head. She's wearing a smile to mask her anger and she glances at the picture of JFK mounted on the wall behind him. "The point is, this rioting thing is dangerous for everyone; including yourself. What was the point of it all?"

"Do you really wanna know?" John nods, and she looks at her knees when she feels her throat contract.

"I was almost sexually attacked on campus by two guys I didn't know, one guy grabbed me while I was walking to the dorms, and my boyfriend – well, ex-boyfriend – he was abusive." Judith takes a shaky breath and begins bouncing her left leg. His expression softens, and when she glances at him, she notices the pity in his eyes. "I just – wanted to do something about it, is all."