Missing Cats and Found Kittens
Copyright© 2019 by UtIdArWa
Chapter 7
It was Tuesday and I had nothing scheduled. On some days, I would be detailed either to the kitchen for KP. Or the laundry. Both jobs that required a strong back and weak mind. On better days, The Pod was allowed yard time. Usually an hour in the fresh air and sunshine. That is unless it was raining. Then we got a poncho made from a garbage bag. But any time outside was fine. It gave you a break from the noise of the jail house. Which was constant, loud, and vulgar.
I was sitting in the common room of the Pod watching an incomprehensible TV show. It seemed to be about various groups of people arguing about the parentage of an infant child. Apparently, it involved screaming and yelling, calling other people names and insulting them. Even to the point of physical fighting. I was totally confused and slightly sickened. I thought to myself, “What will these children think when the see this later in life, when they can understand it?”
From out of the blue, my name was called on the overhead to report to the guard station. Without explanation I was cuffed up and escorted from the room. I had established a good rep with the guards by this time, so there was no rough stuff. When I asked, they didn’t have a clue what was going on.
When we got to the interview room, I was greeted by My lawyer, Steve. The DA Randy Clausen and an unknown gentleman. I was also tickled pink to see that Suzy was there too. I was about to say something, when She gave me a ‘be quiet’ sign. Confused, I was taken to a seat and the guard started uncuffing me. The newcomer objected. “Mr. Clausen, Is that prudent? Given this ‘person’s’ reputation, I would feel much safer if he was in restraints. In fact, I believe a waist chain and shackles, if not a strait jacket would be in order.”
The newcomer was in his late 20’s. He had longer hair that was bunched up on the back of his head. He was wearing a pink button down collared shirt and blue with vertical yellow striped pants.
Randy spoke up, “Mr. Fairbanks,” He was immediately interrupted.
“The name is Fayrbanke, Dagner Fayrbanke. And my preferred personal pronouns are Ze, Zir, Zim.”
Everybody in the room stared at him, excuse me, Zim.
Randy started back up, “OK Dagner, this meeting was called because of the multiple restraining orders, orders for protection and complaints to the court. That you and your client have filed. I’ll give you an opportunity to explain them to Mr. Reynolds, Mr. Whitcomb and Myself. Judge Eskelson hopes that we can resolve these motions, outside of court. Before they have to be reviewed by the Judge. He wants them resolved BEFORE he has to take judicial notice of them.”
Zir Fayrbanke spoke up. “I don’t quite understand what you are talking about. These are requests designed to protect my client from an obviously violent and out of control neo-fascist white supremacist bigot. Without these orders, my client’s life would be at risk from retaliation and vengeance.”
Everybody, myself included stared, open mouthed, at him.
After a moment, Randy spoke up, “And the evidence that Mr. Reynolds would, could or can do these things?”
Fayrbanke stood and stuck zis hand into zis shirt where the button was undone. If it hadn’t been so absurd, I would have busted out laughing.
Fayrbanke started what sounded like a speech before congress. “The evidence is clear and unequivocal. The defendant has already shown a tendency to violence. In that he struck my client. It has further come to my attention that he has possession of multiple firearms. Some of which are military in nature and therefore dangerous to the general public as well as my client. Further, the defendant, without restriction would be able to approach and threaten my client. Therefore the 100 yard restraining order. And finally, the defendant, reportedly has been stalking my client with the obvious goal to intimidate and harass my client.”
To his credit, Mr. Clausen stood and looked at the newcomer.
“You do know that Mr. Reynolds has been in custody since the incident in Elk City? That he has not been outside of custody at any point from then to today? Further, any firearms he may own are obviously well outside of his reach or control? Additionally, the only way Mr. Reynolds could come within 100 yards of your client, is if your client were to be incarcerated also.”
Fayrbanke had a confused look on zis face. “I was unaware of the defendant’s status. These motions were filed on the expectation of the defendant being let loose on the public and my client.”
He paused for a moment, “I do ask for the protection order preventing, prohibiting and putting a stop to the harassment of my client. He has received multiple telephonic, written and internet death threats. Most probably from the defendant.”
Steve was sitting, silent with his head in his hands, shaking. I don’t know if he was crying or laughing. Myself, I was dumbfounded by what I was being accused of.
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