and up to the bench, in her nice dress and loafers.
“I
been sitting here this whole time seeing exactly what’s going on. ”
“Ma’am … I’ Her Honor protested, by now standing and in crisis, as a reporter for New
Country WTDR radio slipped into the back of the courtroom.
“Don’t you ma’am me!” Mrs. Martino wagged her finger.
“The boy who robbed all those innocent folks is my son. So I got a right to say whatever
the hell I want. And I also know who these women are.” She gave them a deep nod.
“Risking themselves to help all those poor folk when that rotten-ass boy of mine climbed
on that bus with the gun he got from some drug dealer out there. Well, I tell you what.”
West, Hammer, ADA Pond, and the courtroom, listened to Mrs. Martino with keen
interest. The judge deemed it best to reseat herself and hold tight. Mrs. Martino had
been waiting all her life for her day in court, and she began to pace like an experienced
trial lawyer. Radio reporter Tim Nicks was writing down everything, his blood singing
and playing drums in his ears. This was too good to be true.
“Let me tell you something, judge,” Mrs. Martino went on.
“I know a game when I see one. And every time you could let those poor busy ladies out
of here, you pass on it, say move on, no way, not now, ummm ummm.” She shook her
head, striding, swinging arms wide, “Now why you want to be doing that to people who
help, to people trying to make a difference out there? It’s a disgrace, that’s exactly what it
is.”
“Ma’am, please be seated…” Her Honor tried again.
Johnny Martino was in Mecklenburg orange and flip- flops when he was brought in from the jail. He raised his right hand and swore to tell the truth one more time in his life.
Hammer was sitting up straight, filled with shining admiration for Mrs. Martino, who had
no intention of being silenced, and in fact, now that her son had appeared, was only
getting started. West was fascinated by how Judge Cow was going to get herself out of
an udder disaster, ha! West stifled laughter, suddenly on the verge of hysteria and
another hot flash. ADA Pond smiled, and Reporter Nicks wrote furiously in his notepad.
“You want roe to sit down, judge?” Mrs. Martino walked up closer to the bench, and put her hands on her sturdy hips.
“Then I tell you what.
You do the right thing. You hear Johnny’s case this minute, listen to his guilty, lying,
stealing ass. Then let these fine crusading ladies be on their way, out there saving more
lives, helping more folks who can’t help themselves, delivering us from evil. ”
“Ma’am, I am hearing the case,” Judge Bovine tried to explain.
“That’s what we’re doing …”
But Mrs. Martino had her mind made up about the way things were. She turned around
and gave Johnny the eye.
“Tell me now.” She swept her arms over the courtroom, touching all.
“Anybody here who insists on stepping ahead of these Christian ladies?” She looked
around, taking in the silence, not finding a raised hand to count.
“Speak now,” she called out.
“All right then! Do we want to set these ladies free?”
The courtroom cheered and roared, people doing high- fives for Batman and Robin, who
could do nothing but watch, enchanted.
“Johnny Martino, how do you plead to ten counts of robbery with a dangerous weapon?”
the ADA called out.
Judge Bovine’s teeth were clamped, and a sleeve of her robe flapped empty and useless as
she held in her objections, her legs crossed.
“Guilty,” Johnny Martino mumbled.
“What says the state,” the judge whispered, in pain.
“Mr. Martino boarded a Greyhound bus on July eleventh at one-eleven p.m.,” ADA Pond summarized.
“He robbed ten passengers at gunpoint before being apprehended and restrained by Chief
Judy Hammer and Deputy Chief Virginia West …”
“Yo Batman,” someone yelled.
“Robin!”
The cheering began again. Judge Bovine could endure no more. She might have called
the sheriff for intervention, but she had more pressing concerns. She had been polite,