The Hearing (Short Story)(Christian) Read online

The Hearing

  By Mark Knight

  Copyright © 2012 by Mark Knight

  All Rights Reserved.

  The Hearing

  The courtroom smelled of cedar and wood polish. Exactly what Jack Deacon expected. I bet all courtrooms smell this way, he thought as he straightened his Sean John gold paisley tie which he hoped would make an impression on the judge, daft as he knew that sounded. Jack had never been to court before – hadn’t even done jury duty – but here he was now fighting for justice. No one had ever done what he was attempting to do, and if it meant emoting blood, he’d emote blood. There had already been real blood, as well as anguish, stress, and a myriad of other upsets adding to a completely messed up life.

  Thanks to him.

  The accused.

  Sitting over there.

  The one looking so damn innocent. Hell, it was his job to look innocent.

  “Deacon verses ...” the clerk of the court began. He then realized that he didn’t have a name down for the defendant. This was a rather unusual trial after all.

  The courtroom waited. The defendant waited.

  The clerk addressed the defendant directly. “With what name do you wish to be referred?”

  “Arehanah,” stated the defendant in a mahogany voice. “But you may call me Aaron.”

  “Deacon verses Aaron,” the clerk announced. “All rise.”

  All rose as Judge Proctor – a square-jawed man of about seventy with black hair that was almost certainly dyed – entered and took the judicial throne.

  “You may be seated,” Judge Proctor said.

  Now the fun begins, thought Jack.

  The hearing began with the judge peering over the rims of his half-moon glasses and looking hard at the defendant in the same way one would a newly unearthed Van Gogh.

  “Sir,” the judge said to the defendant. “You’re...an angel?”

  “A guardian angel, yes, Your Honour,” the defendant replied coolly.

  “You don’t look much like an angel. Where’s your wings?”

  “We have been perceived as possessing wings due to our portrayal as winged beings in artistic masterpieces.”

  “Mm-hm,” was the judge’s uncluttered response. He then turned to Jack. “Mr Deacon,” he began. “Let’s hear your complaint against Mr., er, Mr. Aaron. To be perfectly honest with you, I never thought I’d see the day when someone would be accusing his own guardian angel of anything.”

  A ripple of laughter from the court.

  “Yes sir,” said Jack. “I mean, no sir. But if I may start at the beginning?”

  “Proceed.”

  “I’ve been aware that I’ve had a guardian angel since I was fourteen,” Jack began. “I used to do a lot of mountain biking, and took part in races. A lot of kids went head over bars and really messed themselves up. It’s a tough sport, you know? But I never did. My mom said it was because I was a good kid, did my chores, and never wished any harm to anyone.”

  “And by that,” the judge said, “you concluded that you had Mr Aaron protecting you?”

  “I concluded nothing, at the time. It was actually a friend’s mother who said that I must have a guardian angel. I did some research on the subject after that – you know, religious books and that sort of thing. But it was while my doctor was giving me and my brothers our checkups that I realized that I’d never ever hurt myself. No broken bones, no stitches, nothing. It was then that I started to believe that what my friend’s mother said was true – I had a guardian angel.”

  “And what are your feelings about that, Mr Deacon?”

  Jack’s face hardened. “The simple truth is, Your Honour, we’d be better off without them.”

  “OK. Tell me why. And remember, since you and the defendant are representing yourselves, it is up to you to bring in witnesses, and --”

  “I have no witnesses, Your Honour.”

  “No witnesses?”

  “I believe my case is strong enough that it does not need to rely on witnesses.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because, in my opinion, we are all witnesses to the injustice that brings me here today. Every person in this courtroom. Even you, sir.”

  Judge Proctor raised an eyebrow. “I see. Proceed, then, Mr Deacon.”

  Jack stood and addressed the court. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am here today to bring to your attention the deeds and misdeeds of Aaron – the guardian assigned to me for my entire life.”

  The judge pointed at Aaron. “You are still his guardian, even now?”

  “Yes, sir,” said the angel. “And will be no matter what the outcome of this trial.”

  The judge nodded, and then returned his gaze to Jack Deacon. “Carry on.”

  Jack sat back down, cleared his throat and continued. “I have to be honest with the court – and this is not conceit – but I have been a good person all of my life. I mean, I never even got a traffic ticket. I respect the law, think of others, say my prayers, and go to church. And then, two days after my thirty-fifth birthday, I was hit by a drunk driver.”

  Standing up, he raised what was obviously a prosthetic arm. After that little demonstration, he proceeded to roll up his left trouser leg to reveal an artificial leg. The audience murmured.

  “My great passion in life has been hiking,” he told the court. “Particularly the mountainous regions of south America. This summer I was planning on going up to Machu Picchu in Peru. Because of my accident, I cannot go. All my savings for this trip went to treatment and therapy.. I’m also a skydiver. Can’t do that anymore. I like to swim. Forget that! But that isn’t the end of it. The accident has distanced me from people who I thought were friends. My drinking buddies treat me like I’m some kind of freak There goes my social life. Hell, there goes my life. All because of a Ford Mondeo and a well-pickled boy racer.”

  “Mr. Deacon,” the judge said, arching his fingers. “Tell me exactly why you seek justice against your guardian angel, Mr. Aaron. You are, after all, alive.”

  It seemed right then that a black cloud had replaced Jack Deacon’s face. “Because he is guilty of gross negligence! His job, his entire purpose, is to be by my side, protecting me from all harm. I haven’t done anything to bring this accident upon me. Even if I had, hell, even if I’d become a neo-Nazi granny-killing piece of scum, he still should have done his job! But where was he on April sixteenth of last year? Was he on holiday? Taking a cigarette break? Let me ask the court. Why do these so-called guardians allow any harm to any of us? You go about your life and then suddenly you fall down the stairs, or lose an eye, or your child is kidnapped. Where the hell is your guardian angle then, huh? Can anyone tell me?” Jack then pointed accusingly at Aaron, who remained, as always, emotionless. “I want him to tell me! I want him to tell all of us. This hearing isn’t just for me, not just for the court. It’s for all of humanity.” There was a pause as he gathered himself. “I have no more to say, Your Honour.”

  The viewing audience wobbled like skittles as they whispered amongst themselves. Jack wondered what their conversations were about; he hoped they were agreeing with him. And why shouldn’t they? Every single one of them potentially could relate to what he had just said. Why were people protected like Faberge eggs one minute, only to be disregarded like used tea bags the next? It didn’t make sense. Either the celestial system was flawed, or there was some insidious hidden agenda at work.

  “Thank you, Mr. Deacon, said the judge. “Mr. Aaron, let’s hear your side of the story.”

  The guardian angel stood. He was tall, chiselled, and cool as a cucumber.

  Look at him, thought Jack darkly. Blonde hair, blue eyes, face as innocent as newborn. He’s n
ot fooling anybody. He’s certainly not fooling me!

  But the angel said nothing.

  After a minute of this, Judge Proctor broke the silence. “Mr. Aaron,” he said, voice louder than it had been. “Why aren’t you speaking? This is your chance to prove your innocence.”

  “My job,” began the guardian in a voice that fascinated the women in the room and intimidated the men, “is to protect Jack Deacon at all times. Were I to speak of the reality of the situation, then I would be causing him emotional distress.”

  “And why would that be?”

  “Because I would win.”

  Another murmur from the observers.

  “Let me remind you, Mr. Aaron,” the judge said. “That you have agreed to be tried under human law in a human court. You have the right to remain silent, but if you do so will only prolong this trial – and that, it itself, will cause Mr. Deacon emotional distress.”

  The angel relented. “Very well,” he said. “I would never willingly hurt Jack. And that, please understand, is exactly the point. By not protecting Jack from the drunken driver one cannot insist that I was neglecting him. I was right there when the car swerved and struck him. I was there when the ambulance came. I was there in the hospital. I am always with him.”

  “But, as Mr. Deacon says, if you are his guardian, why didn’t you stop the car from hitting him?”

  “Had I done so, Jack wouldn’t be the person he is now.”

  Jack stood up. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Mr. Deacon!” exclaimed the judge. “Sit down! You’ve had your say, now let Mr. Aaron have his.”

  Jack sat back down, heart pounding fire.

  Now the angel turned and looked at Jack. It was a look of infinite care and understanding – of knowledge, and love.

  “Jack, will you please tell the court about the support group?”

  “You attend a support group, Mr. Deacon?” the judge asked the plaintiff.

  “No,” said Jack. “I run one.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Well, I was always an active person, as I’ve said, and I still intend to be active, despite the loss of my arm and leg. After my therapy, I wanted to see if there were any groups in my area that helped disabled people like me to...you know...get out there and do stuff.”

  “Like hiking...”

  “Yes, hiking, boxing, kayaking, that kind of thing. But not just that. Some folk who’ve been in accidents like mine won’t even go to the local supermarket. They distance themselves from the world, from people. I knew I was integrating my new limbs into my life, so I figured that I could encourage others to do so as well. so I started the support and action group from my home. We meet at my house every Friday and talk about issues, lend support, and plan trips. It’s been good.”

  “And isn’t it true, Jack,” said the guardian, “that you now have a much closer relationship with your wife, Kate?”

  “Yes,” Jack admitted in a low voice. “I guess I do.”

  “Before your accident, you were away from home so much that she barely saw you. Your whole life revolved around sports days and your expeditions. Kate is an agoraphobic, and has no love of the outdoors. You knew that when you married her.”

  “Yes...”

  “Had your life not changed in the way it did, you would have lost her and you would have lost your children. Either you were at work, or out enjoying your various pursuits. Very rarely did you spend your free time with your family.”

  Judge Proctor sat back in his big black leather chair. “And so you’re saying, Mister Aaron,” he concluded, “that he had been neglecting them?”

  “Unfortunately so,” said the angel.

  Jack stood again. This time the judge allowed him to have his retort.

  “This is ridiculous,” Jack Deacon protested, his angry glare switching heatedly from judge to accused. “What this charlatan of an angel means is that, in his estimation, the accident was a good thing! Because now I help others and spend more time with my family! That’s unacceptable. That’s just complete crap. I mean, he’s supposed to protect me from things like swerving cars!”

  “An angel’s duty,” Aaron responded, “is not to be a knight in shining armour. It is to bring about what is best for the one under his guardianship. Your life was heading into darkness. You would not only have lost the love your wife, but of your children as well. Your self-preoccupation was leading to conceit and boastfulness. Eventually your friends would have abandoned you, and slurred your name behind your back. From that would germinate the seeds of depression, loneliness, and despair. I foresaw suicide. The end of Jack Deacon.”

  Jack, shocked at the angel’s words, said nothing.

  “Today,” the angel continued, “you have a solid purpose in life. You give hope to those who had lost all hope. The love you once shared with your wife is blossoming again. Your children are proud of you, and speak highly of you to others. Your focus is on goodness, and hope, and charity. This bright light has always been within you. Only one thing could have freed it from the darkness that stifled it.”

  That day, thought Jack. That fateful day of the accident. Aaron didn’t make the accident happen. He didn’t allow it to happen. It was simply something that had to be. The bitter, sobering fact, Jack Deacon realized, was that he’d brought it on himself. He had become a dark being through his own carelessness. Darkness only attracted more darkness.

  “Mr. Deacon,” the judge said, looking Jack squarely in the eye. “Is there anything else you wish to say?”

  “Yes sir,” Jack said quietly. Looking over at Aaron, his guardian angel, he saw not the accused, not the one who had ruined his life...but a friend. “Just one more thing.”

  “Proceed.”

  “I withdraw the charges.”