Page 48 of Buddy System

The judge stares at Hamilton for a moment and finally huffs, “I’ll allow it. Overruled.” He doesn’t look too happy, but I steal a glance at the jury, and they all seem to be glaring at Marjorie Henshaw.

Several witnesses are brought up to the stand for no apparent purpose that I can tell. They only seem to be there to testify that Mrs. Henshaw is a lovely person. My attorney has no questions for any of them.

Finally, Schroeder puts his client on the stand. She uses a walker to get there and makes a big show of how difficult it is for her to move around. It appears as if she is in terrible pain.

The first thing her lawyer does is post a life-sized photograph of Mrs. Henshaw with terrible bruising on her face. Her left eye is swollen shut and her chin is bleeding. There are several gasps from people around the courtroom, including some of the jurors. He leaves the photo there for everyone to look at as he proceeds with his interrogation.

“Mrs. Henshaw, will you tell us what happened on July the sixth when you went to work at Mr. Colfax’s home?”

In a shaky voice, she begins a blathering pack of lies about how she showed up early to make sure I had enough to eat after she’d been out of town for a few days and was worried about my well-being. “He always loves my cooking so much, and I was afraid he was eating too many nasty TV dinners or pizza. Iwanted to make sure he was alright. He had company, and one of them—the man—seemed to be very fresh with him. I didn’t like it a bit because Skyler didn’t seem to be at all well. I tried to get some work done, but the two guests were terribly rude to me, and Skyler didn’t understand that I was looking out for him when he threatened me. It scared me so much, I left without getting paid.”

“I see. So you were frightened for your safety on that date?”

“Terrified.” She says this with a wobbly chin as she dabs at her eye, but there isn’t any evidence of moisture.

“And would you tell us what happened on the night you were attacked?”

“Objection!” my lawyer cries. “There is no proof of an attack from anyone, least of all my client.”

“Sustained. Please try again, Mr. Schroeder.” Wow, the judge is starting to sound a little brighter.

“Mrs. Henshaw, please explain to us the series of events that led to your appearance in the emergency room.”

“I was watching the eleven o’clock news when Skyler barged in, hollering at me. I swear he seemed drunk or high or something, and he accused me of all kinds of terrible things. He said I’d stolen from him and spread lies about him, and he was going to show me! When I stood up to tell him to get out of my house, he grabbed me and socked me as hard as he could in the face. Then he threw me against the fireplace where I hit the brick hearth. It hurt so bad, I couldn’t even breathe.” Big crocodile tears finally drip unchecked down her cheeks, and I half wonder if someone did attack her. I just know it wasn’t me.

“Then what happened?”

“He swore at me in the foulest manner, using words that I won’t repeat, and then he left.”

“And what did you do?”

“I dragged myself to my neighbor’s house, and she took me to the hospital.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Henshaw. I have no more questions for you at this time.”

She starts to get up, but my lawyer approaches her and says, “Not so fast, ma’am. It’s my turn.” She glares at him. “Mrs. Henshaw, who was with you in your home the night you claim you were attacked?”

“No one…except when Skyler was there.”

“Then why didn’t you call your neighbor instead of making the painful trip over to her house on foot if you were so seriously injured?”

Mrs. Henshaw stares blankly for a moment. Her mouth opens and closes two times before she finally says, “I…I guess I didn’t think of it. I was scared and I wanted to get out of my house.”

“You’re sure you weren’t afraid of someone who was still in your house?”

“Uh…n-no.”

“You know that perjury is a crime, don’t you?”

“Um. What’s that?”

“Lying, Mrs. Henshaw. When you lie under oath in court, you can go to jail or pay a hefty fine.” Her face turns red, but she doesn’t say anything. “Alright, so you claim you were alone, and you had a burst of energy that propelled you to your neighbor’s house despite your multiple injuries.” She opens her mouth to speak, but he keeps going. “You said that Mr. Colfax grabbed you and slugged you. Do you remember which hand he struck you with?”

“Well, obviously it was his right hand. He’s right-handed, and I got a black eye on the left side of my face. He grabbed me with his left. I remember it distinctly. I wish I could forget the horrible look on his f?—”

“Please just stick to answering my questions, ma’am.”

“Oh. Okay. But?—”

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