The Judge's Orders

Gael’s knee hurt less when he returned to the jail. There might possibly even have been some spring in his step. The powerlessness he’d felt in hospital after being shot down seemed more like a memory than a fact. It was close to midnight when he arrived.

The desk sergeant was actually asleep, which made the pirate in Gael have ‘ideas’, but the paper pirate, aka lawyer, in him won that argument. He rapped his cane on the counter and cleared his throat. When that didn’t work, he flipped his cane around and gave the man a gentle shove on the shoulder, then took a step back.

It worked about as well as he’d expected. The sergeant jumped up, baton in hand, eyes narrowed with predatory threats.

Gael cleared his throat again, tapped the floor with his cane, grinned cheerfully, suddenly feeling very glad he still had all his teeth (This wouldn’t work nearly as well without them). “Good morning!”

“Jesus on the Cross! What the hell do you want,” he growled. His baton dropped back into its holster like a sword.

It was the same man as earlier, which made Gael wonder if it was near the end of shift or if the flu was that bad in Atlanta. Neither of them were wearing a mask and Gael felt like an idiot over that. “I’ve come for my client. She is being released into my custody.”

“What bullshit is this?”

“Judge’s orders,” Gael said, with just the hint of an apology in his voice, as he held out the envelope.

The sergeant hesitated, staring at the simple white envelope like it was a summons to Hell. “Well, I ain’t heard nothing.”

“He did say he’d call before I got here,” Gael said, letting a bit of wonder, like he didn’t have any idea why a sleeping desk sergeant might not have gotten a call.

“I wasn’t sleeping, you know,” the man growled.

“Neither was I,” Gael said, voice deepening, a tiny smirk to the edge of his mouth.

When the phone rang, both of them nearly jumped out of their shoes.

Sergeant cleared his throat, coughed and spit into the trash can, straightened his hat, then answered the phone, “Atlanta City Ja....” His face went white. “Yes, sir, no sir, of course, your honor. Yes, yes, I do kno.... I’m sorry, Your Honor. Right away, sir!” When he set the receiver back in the hook at the side of the phone, he half collapsed, hands on the desk, eyes wide and looking up at Gael like one man to another, they’d have each other’s backs.

“How long have you been on duty,” Gael asked supportively.

“What day is it? Everyone’s out sick.”

“I will let His Honor know that, I’ll make a point of it,” Gael said. “Can we get my client now?”

“There’s no one here until five am.”

“It’s special circumstances,” Gael said. This time he put all of his I-am-a-trustworthy-authority into his voice, smiling like he was Santa’s personal lawyer.

“What do you expect me to do?”

“I am an agent of the court,” Gael explained, “Give me the keys and I’ll fetch my client and return the keys to you. Judge Grimwald will know you did your very best under the most dire of circumstances and we can get her trial underway properly. You’ll be a hero.”

“I can trust you?”

“Absolutely.”

“If this goes badly, I’ll lose my job or worse,” he worried.

“Everything will be fine. Removing her from your responsibility makes the entire facility safer. People are a little crazy right now, with this nasty Spanish flu. Defending state property from a mob over one woman would be great pile of bollux.”

“Don’t I know it. Stupid woman. Nothing but trouble. Here, take her, get her out of here. I have enough trouble to deal with!” He handed over a large ring of huge keys. Holding up one with a red dot on it. “This is the key to the main door. You’re a deputy now. Take it seriously.”

Well, that was surreal. Being an officer of the law had been on Gael’s top ten never-going-to-happen list. “I will bring these right back,” Gael promised sincerely.

Going down the hall towards the inner part of the jail was not at all where he wanted to be kept going, even as the past tried to claw itself up his spine. There were things he did not want to think about. Did. Not. Want. So he thought about things that he did want as he turned the lock and moved into the cages of people.

Life wasn’t fair and he didn’t have an answer for the questions in his soul about why he was here with the keys and the people on the other side of the bars weren’t. Jack wasn’t there, but felt like he was, like he was part of Gael, a hand on his shoulder. Jack was waiting for him, would always be there when he got home. Even with Jack’s spirit with him, being in the jail was profoundly uncomfortable.

He found Miss Tyndale at the end of the row, with no inmates in cells near here, which gave him a chill. It would be entirely too easy to lynch someone under those circumstances. Being as very careful as he could to make no sound as he tried the various keys, it occurred to him that this would be the very best time to try such a lynching with an out of state attorney with gossip about him being ‘funny’ opening the cell himself. The hair stood up on his head and he pulled the door open with the gentlest of touches, not wanting to give anyone a clue as to his progress.

Laying a finger over his mouth, he gestured for her to be quiet. He couldn’t bring himself to cross into the cell so he motioned for her to come closer.

There was a tense moment while she considered it, then padded soundlessly to him. “What are you doing here, Gael,” she whispered.

“I spoke with a judge. I have a court order releasing you into my custody.”

“For goodness sake! Are you trying to get yourself killed? How do you know they’re not going to ambush us on the way out?”

“I don’t,” Gael said. He slipped out of his coat and put it around her shoulders. “There is a cab waiting for us. Let’s go. Sometimes you just trust people to be,” he paused, trying to find the right word that didn’t make his teeth ache, “good.”

“Head injuries take a long time to heal,” Alice snapped, voice low. “You clearly should be convalescent!”

“Well, it’s not like you were busy,” he snapped, making quick time down the hall, “Getting hung tonight or in a few days is hardly much different, so let’s take what chance we have for a different outcome.”

“I’m ready to go. I’m not ready for you to go.” She hesitated just a bit as he got the main door open, but he swept her right through.

Out in the brighter light, her hair was a bird’s nest and the dark circles under her eyes made her look like an asylum patient.

The sergeant had a clipboard up with a pen ready for Gael. “So when’s the trial?”

“Three days,” Gael said, signing quickly, leaving his thumbprint, “Will you be able to attend?”

“I hope so. He was my friend, you know. Took care of my family when I broke my leg two years ago.”

“I’m sorry I was not able to meet him,” Gael said honestly. “I will see you then. Thank you for your help.” He left the big ring of keys on the counter.

“You too,” the sergeant said. “Don’t let her get near no knives.”

“I shall do my best,” Gael agreed, arm around Alice’s shoulders as he headed her towards the door.

“I don’t have any shoes,” she squeaked.

“Hold this,” he said, thrusting his cane into her hands, before sweeping her up into his arms.

“My god,” she cried out, arms around his neck, “Your knee won’t hold both our weights! It’ll barely hold yours!”

“Then I suggest you stop moving around,” Gael ground out, pain from his knee going right up to his head.

Stairs had to be the worst thing humans had ever created. Hell was made of endless staircases and huge no dancing signs. Vision nearly white, but both of them still not on the ground, Gael got to the cab and set her inside. It took him another couple minutes to get himself up. The first step was easy, but he didn’t want to put any pressure on his knee so he jumped one legged with his good leg into the carriage and slammed the door shut. “Hotel, now,” he shouted.

“You are in pain,” she accused.

“I’m a one-eyed jack. I think pain is part of who I am, no, you are not going to look at it now. Jack is a doctor and he’ll be waiting for us when we get there.”

“Jack is a man? All those letters I read to you!”

“Jack is a man,” Gael ground out, in too much paik to care about the scandalized feelings of a murder suspect. “I’ll expect you to keep what you know in that regard to yourself.”

“Of course, of course,” she said, pulling his coat a bit tighter around her and the thin prison dress she wore. “I would never do anything to harm you, or anyone.”

“I know that, nurse. Tomorrow, you’re going to tell me what really happened. The world needs people like you more than it ever has.”

“Please just let me look at your knee and see if I can help in any way,” she pleaded, scooting to the edge of the seat.

Her words and the clip of horse hooves were the only sound right then and it made Gael smile. “I’m saving you right now. My knee is familiar. By the time we get to the hotel, it will have calmed itself. You’re going to love Jack. When this is over, you should come to South Carolina with us. I think he needs a nurse.”

“You wouldn’t just move on with your life if it was Jack that was dead, would you?”

“You’re a better, stronger person than I am. Jack would want me too. When he thought I was dead, he carried on with medicine and caring for the world. You should be like him, not like me.”