I stopped at the law firm to gather some files that I didn't even think that I'll use before heading to the police station. The streets were pretty scanty, showing that it was still early in the morning. School buses were not buzzing their way around town transporting children, neither were people hurrying off to their place of work to avoid being late or anything. Even the firm was kind of empty when I got there but it was no surprise that Mr Churchill was already there, typing away on his computer and occasionally scribbling on his notebook, looking pretty unkept in his rumpled shirt and pants, with shoes that had clearly seen better days. And he was the only one there apart from the receptionist and the security man.
I stopped at a McDonalds store to grab a hamburger and a cup of coffee before heading to the police station, and even as I chewed on the savory burger, the fearful knot in my tummy did not subside. I knew I was going to meet him, and I dreaded that.
Surprisingly, he was not at the station when I got there, and the simple knowledge of that made my muscles relax.
Why the hell was I so afraid of seeing him?
I wasn't so sure, and I didn't know, I was just sure of the fact that I didn't want to see him.
" Good morning Mr Doe", I said, standing up as he walked into the office in the company of some officer.
" Good morning", he said.
" Here, take a seat".
I opened up my files just to seem as if there was something important and new I was going to say; there wasn't.
" I have gone through your case over and over again, and seriously speaking, there is no fucking way that we can plead non guilty in court. Even if we do, we'll be incurring for you a more heavy penance or sentence in the worst case scenario", I said, looking him in the eye to portray seriousness.
" So, what are you trying you say?" He asked, his eyes staring into mine with such clarity of mind that thieves should not have. I trailed away in his eyes for a moment. They were big and brown, and looked a lot like that of a cute child. His face didn't help matters. It held no stronghold masculinity, no matured masculinity, and all I was seeing in him was a cute little boy who was ready to deny that he had never sucked his mother's breasts. I also wondered what it would be like to have him cuddle me in bed, or to have him fuck me, with his little body over me. It would surely seem as if I was having sex with a minor, and his dick could also be like his physique; small, little, or it could be big. You never know, and if there is one thing that I have learnt from my uncountable one-night stands, it is that you can never judge a book by it's cover, sorry, you can never judge the size of someone's dick by his physique. I could still remember the second guy that fucked me when I got into college. I can't remember his name, but he was small, not so built, with blond hair, having the body of twink, a bottom instead of a top, and he had green eyes. I thought I could handle the size of his dick, I was so sure that I could, given the fact that he was small, but as he led me to the inner room of the locker room area, and pushed his cock into me, the darkness that enveloped us that night turned into light. The illuminating moon suddenly seemed brighter as he kept forcefully pounding into my manhole as I moaned in pain.
" What I am trying to say is that you ...…. no, WE should plead guilty. There is no way that we can safely get out of this case without doing so. Even if you don't plead guilty and render a confessional statement, you will still be convicted, you can be sent to probation or fined heavily, and worst still, you can be sent to jail", I tried so hard to sound convincing.
He scoffed. He just scoffed and ran his hands over his face, and when he stared right back at me, I knew that I had been pouring water on a hard rock; there was no convincing him.
" You said the same thing last time", he started, tears slowly gathering in his eyes, " that I should plead guilty. Did you even consider for a moment that I didn't commit the crime, huh? Did it once come across your mind that I might be innocent?"
I stayed silent.
To be sincere, it didn't. Nothing of such crossed my mind. Not when there was a video tape of him committing the said crime. Considering the fact that he might be innocent was just like considering that Michelle Obama is white even though she has a dark skin color.
" You didn't, did you?" He continued, " what I had to say didn't matter to you, all you care about were the logistics of the case and the presented evidence".
" Well maybe that I'd because it is the only thing that we can fall back on, the only thing that I can fall back on", I retorted.
" No it's not, it's the only thing that the court will Falk back on, not you. You are supposed to be my lawyer, you are supposed to hear me out, to believe me, to take my word for what it is", the tears started falling, rushing readily like waterfalls, " you are supposed to question every single possibility, but no, you don't want to do that, you just want to have a safe pass by making me accept that I committed a crime, that I did something that I would never imagine doing".
" You know what?" I said, closing up my files and standing up, " let's just have this conversation when you're all sobered up", as I stepped out of the chair, I remembered that the trial was the next day, " or better still", I said, turning to him, " we'll see in court tomorrow".
" I used to admire people of your profession. Lawyers. I used to admire you", he said as I was about to step out of the door, making me to stop right there in my track. " I used to think that you guys were knights, soldiers of Justitia, the goddess of justice, and that it was thanks to people like you that the world is a better place".
He sounded solemn. Almost melancholic, and as I turned to him, the look on his face broke my heart into pieces. He was still crying, but his tears were quite, withheld, and heartbreakingly sorrowful.
" But I was wrong", his expression stiffened. There was still pain, but it was an angry pain. " You people are supposed to be the last hope of the common man, but you've proven to be nothing but the worst hope of the common man. The world will never be a better place because of people like you", he said with such hatred that sent cold shivers down my spine, and as I barged out of the room, I didn't realize that I was crying, not until I felt something warm on my cheeks.
I cleaned off the tears with the back of my palm, and just when I was about to exit the door, a hand grabbed me.
I was ready to throw a slap at whoever it was that had the impetus to grab me, and just when I turned to deliver the slap, there was Basil, staring at me with his eyes wide open, with a concerned expression on his face.