Five Lessons Learned Elsewhere

V Lessons Learned Elsewhere

Meanwhile, the judge went through the motions and heard out Fodi. The man’s defense was that the tribe who they fought against were disturbing the peace on his tribe’s land. They were attempting to kidnap children from the houses of the tribesmen for their entertainment. Unfortunately for him, these men were assassins hired by a highly powerful man. That man was present in the court room currently. He was sitting in the back corner, completely unphased by both Fodi's story and Alan's antics. He had hired these assassins to take out a certain tribe. Of course, this was almost twenty years ago. Fodi had been sitting in prison awaiting this day ever since.

The man was scowling, and one reason for that is because he ordered for the whole tribe to be put on trial. Fodi gave himself up to allow his comrades to escape. Now, the tribe he wanted captured and the tribe he wanted dead still roamed the earth as free men. Of course, this made Fodi guilty in the eyes of the court. There was never any doubt in the minds of more educated men. This audience, however, were simply captivated by the fool that made himself fall down and covered himself in the flesh of rotten tomatoes and bananas. It is as if they were hypnotized, unable to focus on anything else.

Of course, Fodi was found guilty, sentenced to death, and led away. Alan went back to his cell and cleaned himself up. Fodi ended up in the cell next to him.

Everybody left the court except for the judge and the angry man in the back of the room. The man was Liber. “Very well, Harry,” he said. “Until tomorrow.”

Harry, or more formally, the honorable Judge Harold Conklin, bowed his head and got down on his knees. “If I may, Sir Liber,” he then raised his head. “You seem very angry. Is there anything more I can do?”

“You couldn’t make any difference,” Liber muttered. “That damned Baku is overplaying his hand, and encroaching on matters that affect my business. Just keep doing the good work you do.”

Liber and the Judge then retired to their resting quarters upstairs. They had taken a temporary residency in the court room since their were so many cases to get through.

Steven approached Alan back in the holding cells. He removed that turquoise, green, gold, depending on what angle you looked at it, key from his belt.

“Here,” he said.

Alan looked up without answering. He was annoyed, as if he had been interrupted.

“Come on,” Steven pressed. “Take it!”

Alan hesitated. For a moment, he considered taking the key. But then, he looked down and lit a cigarette. “No. I won’t be needing that.”

“I’m giving you a way out! I’m not supposed to have it either. I shouldn’t leave with it!”

Alan looked up once more. “Steven Paddox. You have made my time here somewhat less insufferable. I’m grateful for that. Now leave before a bash your fucking head in.”

Steven turned and left. He didn’t feel threatened, for the man was handcuffed. But he was acting strange, even stranger then usual. He left the court for the last time without another word.

Alan returned to his meditation and lit another cigarette.

Fodi spoke up. “Can you put that out? It’s bothering my lungs!”