The handcuffs bit into Jeremiah’s wrists and ankles as he shuffled down the marble hallway behind the bailiff. A relief of lady justice monitored his progress from beneath her blindfold. The words, In God We Trust, hovered over the side entrance to the courtroom.
Five days in the cell had done him good. The screams, the sounds of fighting had kept him awake at times, but for the first time in a while he had enough food to fill his stomach. He spent the first two days demanding a lawyer or to, at least, know the charges. By day three, he no longer cared. The Lord had promised to protect him. He sent him there for a reason. When the time was right, he would make his will known.
The bright red of his prison uniform contrasted with the dull brown of the courtroom. Everything was brown. The benches, the wall that divided the onlookers from those involved in the trial. The front of the desk high above the courtroom floor behind which the judge would sit. Even the judge’s robe displayed a brown tint as it swished its way towards the seat. Jeremiah took his place at the table on the left. The prosecutor pulled papers out of his briefcase and arranged them on the table in two stacks.
“Please be seated,” the judge called out, his round-rimmed glasses hanging off the end of his nose. “We’ll begin in a few minutes once all the parties are here.”
Jeremiah watched the judge and shook his head. It had to be a mistake. Then again, nothing about the last five days made sense. He had finished a meal at the ironically named The Shack, paid more than he scraped together in a week, and headed into the stuffy evening. Two blocks away, a police cruiser pulled in front of him. A man in blue and a woman in a skirt suit – a federal agent as far as he could tell – popped out and took him into custody. They, like everybody else, refused to answer his questions. His attorney, when he or she arrived, would hopefully shed some light on the situation.
“Ah. Here she is,” Pashur Immerson said from his seat behind the bench. “Now, we’ll be able to start.”
Jeremiah’s relief turned to disbelief and then to wonder as the lawyer sat down beside the prosecutor. He turned towards the back door as though his attorney would walk through next. Ten faces stared at notebooks as hands wrote unknown words into them. Only one face looked back at Jeremiah. His heart quickened at the sight of his friend, Baruch. At least, one of the stories told today would contain the truth.
Pashur Immerson addressed the prosecutors. “How are you two doing today?” His tone came out friendlier than Jeremiah would have liked.
“Doing well, your honor,” the man replied.
“That’s good to hear.” Immerson adjusted the microphone and spoke to the court. “Case four dash two, the Government versus Jeremiah H., in regards to the violation of the People’s Rights Act, the charges are as follows. Willful disregard for the rights of protected persons, intentional defamatory remarks, and speech intended to incite violence against said protected persons. In regards to the violation of the Truth in Communication Act, the following charge is leveled. Intentional spread of disinformation to incite dissent against the government. In response to these charges, how do you plead?”
Jeremiah scrunched his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’ll have the court enter your plea as not guilty,” Immerson said. He nodded at the stenographer who clicked away at her keyboard. “Is the prosecution ready to start?”
“Yes, your honor.”
“I have an objection,” Jeremiah said.
Immerson looked over the top of his glasses. “It’s not your turn to speak. You will have a chance to present your case after the prosecution has finished.”
“I’m going to speak anyway.”
“Not in my courtroom. Not until I give you permission.”
“I don’t need your permission,” Jeremiah said.
“But you do,” Immerson replied. “And for your sake, I’d recommend you remain quiet so that you don’t dig your hole any deeper.”
“I will not,” Jeremiah argued. “Where’s my lawyer? Where’s the jury for that matter?” His face grew redder with each question. “I haven’t had a chance to speak with anyone concerning my defense. I didn’t even get the chance to hear the charges until just a minute ago and have no idea what they’re referring to. Intentional defamatory remarks? Attempt to incite violence and dissent? When did any of this occur?”
“The prosecution will lay out the case against you in ….”
Jeremiah cut him off and continued. “I am a citizen of this nation with rights and protections under the law. For five days, I’ve been sitting in jail. I haven’t spoken to anyone. I don’t have any idea why I’m here. After five days and without explanation, a guard shackles me, drags me over to this building, and I find myself facing you. You! Sitting in a brown robe? What judge wears a brown robe? This isn’t a real courtroom. Where are the ten commandments? The opening prayer invoking God to grant wisdom and justice? The jury? My attorney? My rights? Who granted you authority to sit behind the judge’s bench? Where am I anyway? Answer me. I demand that you tell me where I am.”
Immerson cleared his throat a couple times. His glasses came off and sat in his hand as he stared over the podium at Jeremiah. “The only reason I have allowed this outburst is because I am a man of God as you claim to be. However, do not expect me to tolerate any more of them. As to your question, you are in a court set up by President Jehoiakim and Congress. A religious court, if you will, designated as such to handle cases of this nature.”
“Why haven’t I heard of this religious court before?” Jeremiah asked.
“It’s relatively new. You’re the first one to be brought before it. I guess you should consider yourself lucky.” Sarcasm seasoned his words. “As to my authority, I was chosen by Jehoiakim as his religious representative, uniquely qualified to judge concerns such as these. The regular rules do not apply in this court. Counsel is not provided. Neither is a jury. I will hear the prosecution’s evidence, listen to you when your time comes, and make my decision. Now, if you have any hope of receiving a favorable outcome, you may want to remain quiet until it is your turn.” His attention shifted to the lead prosecutor. “Counsel?”
Jeremiah sat back in his chair, his jaw clenched. The prosecutors gave each other a wry, knowing smile and began.
“Thank you, your honor. The defendant stands accused of section sixty-four dash one of the People’s Rights Act subsections a, b, and d, as well as the Truth in Communication Act section eighteen-two. The evidence will show the defendant knowingly and willingly violated these statutes and, in doing so caused, grievous harm to both individuals and the nation. We ask that the defendant receive punishment in due measure so that both he and those who may consider doing the same will be dissuaded from replicating these heinous, offensive crimes.”
“How would you like to proceed?” Immerson asked.
“We would like to begin with the violations of the People’s Rights Act.”
“Very well. What evidence do you bring?”
The assistant prosecutor nodded to the bailiff, who brought in a man with white hair and pouting lips. Jeremiah squinted hard. The man looked familiar. His mind raced as he tried to place him. The man stepped into the witness’ seat and raised his right hand.
“State your name for the court,” Immerson said.
“Adam Mandiv.”
“Do you promise to state the truth to this court?”
“I do.”
The prosecutor took over. “What is your occupation?”
“I work in real estate.”
“And how do you know the defendant?”
“I don’t. I’d never met him before that night, never even seen him.”
“What evidence do you have against this man, then?”
Mandiv hesitated as though uncomfortable with the situation. “Um … well … I took a video of that evening.”
“Let the record show the witness is referring to the evening at The Shack.” The prosecutor held up a microdrive. “Is this the recording you turned over to the prosecutor’s office?”
Mandiv squinted. “Yes, it is.”
The prosecutor started the video for the court. Jeremiah was the first to speak on the recording.
“I hate homosexuals. Marriage is between one man and one woman. What you’re asking me to do is wrong.”
The recording stopped.
“Did you make this video?” the prosecutor asked.
“Yes.”
“What were the circumstances surrounding it.”
“I saw a wonderful scene unfolding between a woman and her fiancée. I guess one woman had just asked the other one to marry her, and I decided, spur of the moment, to film it.”
“Is there more to the video?”
“Unfortunately, no. After I heard this man say what he did, I got so angry that I shut it off.”
“Did anything else happen after you stopped recording?”
Mandiv nodded. “A whole lot.”
“Please tell the court what happened.”
Mandiv looked around the room, first at the judge, then Jeremiah. He stammered his first few words. “I … I don’t … you know … want to get him in trouble. I mean, I don’t agree at all with what he said, but … I figured … well, I figured he was just some nutcase blowing off steam.”
“Just the details please, Mr. Mandiv.”
“OK. Well, after I turned off the video, he, the defendant, kept going on about how homosexuals were evil, how they should all go to hell, how somebody should do something about them.”
“Were those his exact words?”
“Uh … no.”
“Please state for the court his exact words.”
“Do I have to?”
The prosecutor simply stared and waited for the answer.
“His exact words. Yeah.” Mandiv took a deep breath. “He said they, the lesbians, were the cause of all that was wrong in society and … that ….” He bit his lip before he continued. “… that it would be best if someone came and wiped them out.”
“Is that what he said? Wipe them out?”
“No.”
“What were his exact words, Mr. Mandiv? And remember, this is a court of law. We expect you to tell us the truth.”
Another deep breath as he made up his mind. “He said someone should come back with a rifle and rid the world of this disease one bullet at a time.”
“Anything else?”
Mandiv shook his head.
“Thank you for your time,” the prosecutor said. “You may step down.”
Jeremiah shook his head too but in disbelief. “I’d like to ask the witness a few questions,” he said. “Actually, I’d like my attorney to ask him a few questions, but that seems to be beyond the scope of this fair and impartial hearing.”
“You’ll get a chance to call your own witnesses when it’s your turn,” Immerson informed him.
“How am I supposed to call witnesses?” Jeremiah asked. “Are you going to allow me out to track down the other people at the restaurant when this occurred? Or are you afraid this little fairy tale will fall apart if you do?”
“When it’s your turn,” Immerson repeated. His patience seemed as thin as the lines etched in his forehead. “Mr. Shadler. Your next witness.”
The prosecutor called in a woman. A dress painted onto her body hugged her as she made her way to the chair. Light brown curls fell over the tops of her bare shoulders.
“Please state your name.”
“Alexis Martin,” the woman answered.
“How do you know the defendant?”
“He was the one who insulted and threatened me and my fiancée.” A tear trickled out the corner of her eye. Immerson handed her a tissue.
“Can you tell me what he said?” the prosecutor asked.
“He called me vile, scum. Said I was a piece of … I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m allowed to use that word in court.” The tissue dabbed at her eye.
“It’s OK, Ms. Martin. Take your time.”
“He … he said, ‘All you homosexuals are going to burn in hell.’ I was so upset. Right there in the middle of the restaurant, he got up and pointed his finger in my face. I thought he was going to burn me to death right there, especially after I saw that look in his eyes and the candle in his hand. I tried to run, but he grabbed me. Then, he brought the candle … and ….” She bent over, her body heaving great sobs.
The prosecutor’s hand went to Ms. Martin’s arm. “I know this is difficult, but we need you to keep going.”
She sat up and did her best to compose herself.
“Is there anything else he said?” the prosecutor asked.
“Yes. He said someone should come back with a rifle and rid the world of this disease one bullet at a time.”
“And by disease, he meant …?”
“Me and my fiancée.”
“Did you believe he would carry out the threat?”
“I had no doubt he would.”
“Thank you, Ms. Martin. That’ll be all.”
The chamber watched as the woman and the painted dress glided away.
“Any other witnesses?” Immerson asked.
“Not for those counts,” the prosecutor answered. “As to the Truth in Communication Act, the evidence already presented to the court will suffice. Let the defendant’s own words condemn him.”
“The court will accept the evidence concerning the defendant’s remarks about the government response to the ecological crisis,” Immerson said. He made a few more marks on his papers and closed the folder. His attention turned to Jeremiah. “The defendant may now present his case. However, remember that you must stick to the facts. Please raise your right hand.”
“I would if it wasn’t shackled to my waist,” Jeremiah said.
“Repeating the oath will suffice. Do you promise to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?”
“I have always spoken the truth and will continue to do so. You and these witnesses, on the other hand, have been extremely liberal with it.”
“Please limit your remarks to your defense.”
“My defense? My defense is that they lied. They didn’t exaggerate the truth or stretch it out a bit. They didn’t mishear or misquote or mis-anything. They simply made up a story. One which didn’t happen nor even come close to happening.”
“Is that or is that not your voice on the recording?” Immerson said. “It certainly seems to be coming from your mouth.”
“My voice? Yes. What I said? Edited perhaps. Dubbed. I don’t know. Certainly taken out of context. Everything after the end of the recording is pure fabrication.”
“The court would ask you to refrain from characterizations.”
“I could not care less what the court would ask me to do. I don’t recognize the authority of this court or the bogus, immoral laws which you’re attempting to prosecute me under.”
“As you can see by your chains, the court does have authority to hold and prosecute you. And by the authority given me by President Jehoiakim and the Congress, I, personally, have the power to decide both the verdict and your fate. So, once again, I advise you to hold your tongue.”
A wind, a spirit rushed through Jeremiah’s body and filled him. His eyes burned, slicing through Pashur Immerson as if he could see inside. He shut them for a moment, breathed in, and began.
“You have no authority over me other than what the Lord has permitted and only to show the evil that lives inside you. The outcome of this case has been decided. It was decided before I stepped in the courtroom, before I stepped in the restaurant that evening. Your Mr. Mandiv was not there by chance nor did he stop the recording out of anger or surprise or any other reason except out of convenience to bring these false charges.”
“Do you deny your hatred for the gay community?” Immerson interjected.
“I deny hatred for anyone.”
“Will you admit your mistake and apologize to the couple?”
“Apologize for what? For standing up for God’s truth? Homosexuality is an abomination in his eyes. It is an evil that pollutes the land. I won’t accept it, I won’t condone it, and I certainly won’t praise it.”
“Your honor,” the prosecutor said. “You heard his words. Do we need to continue?”
Jeremiah turned to him. A fire came out in his words. “A man in whom no truth is found. Who condemns the poor at the behest of the rich and powerful who control the strings you dance on. Who takes a bribe to let the guilty go free and locks up the innocent who dare speak the truth. And your partner over there. How many nights have you worked late together? Lying together in a hotel bed while your wife waited at home with the children.”
Immerson pounded the podium with his hand. “Order! The courtroom will come to order, and you will be quiet.”
“I will speak,” Jeremiah said. “The Lord has commanded me to speak. ‘Do not remain quiet,’ he told me, ‘or the guilt will fall on your head. But if you speak the words I command you and they don’t listen, then the guilt will be theirs.’ For nearly twenty years, I have brought his truth to this land, but the people would not listen. They desired the darkness more than the light. They loved their evil more than righteousness, and now the light will be removed from them. Righteousness and goodness will flee this nation like a rabbit flees from the hounds. You will claim to search for it. You may even claim you have found it, but it will be like water in a broken pitcher, like the life-giving water which slowly drains from your lakes and rivers and reservoirs. The sky will continue to withhold its rain. Your crops and the beasts of the field will languish. The ground will no longer give forth its produce. Your livestock will die in front of your eyes. In the days to come, you will thirst for water and hunger for food, but you will never thirst or hunger for righteousness, for all your ways are evil. You love the evil with all your heart and all your soul and all your might. The evil which you so desire will be on your heart. You will teach it diligently to your children, and will talk of it when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way and when you lie down and when you rise. You will bind it as a sign on your hand. You will write it on the doorposts of your houses and on your gates.”
He pointed his burning eyes at Immerson. “Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture! declares the Lord. You have scattered my flock and have driven them away, and you have not attended to them. Behold, I will attend to you for your evil deeds.”
His head lifted to the ceiling. A cry poured out from the depths of his spirit. “My heart is broken within me; all my bones shake. I am like a drunken man, like a man overcome by wine, because of the Lord and because of his holy words. For the land is full of adulterers; because of the curse the land mourns, and the pastures of the wilderness are dried up. Their course is evil, and their might is not right. Both prophet and priest are ungodly; even in my house I have found their evil, declares the Lord. Therefore, their way shall be to them like slippery paths in the darkness, into which they shall be driven and fall, for I will bring disaster upon them in the year of their punishment, declares the Lord. In the prophets of the north, I saw an unsavory thing: they prophesied by the moon god, by Plutus and Lakshmi, and led my people astray. But in the prophets of this nation, I have seen a horrible thing: they commit adultery and walk in lies; they strengthen the hands of evildoers, so that no one turns from his evil; all of them have become like Sodom to me, and its inhabitants like Gomorrah. Therefore, thus says the Lord of hosts concerning the prophets: Behold, I will feed them with bitter food and give them poisoned water to drink, for from the prophets ungodliness has gone out into all the land.”
The room disappeared for Pashur Immerson. A crimson flush rose from his cheeks to his forehead and seeped into his brain. All his fury focused on the weak, condescending man wrapped in chains who sat beneath his bench.
“How dare you,” Immerson said. “You pathetic, little fool.”
His lips shook as they tried to form a cohesive phrase. Hands balled into fists and reached out to strike the podium as though it were Jeremiah himself. A sound sprung out of his throat, a grunt or a growl, hatred come to life. He stood out of his seat and pointed his finger at Jeremiah. As he was about to speak, a smile came over his face. He returned to his seat and let the anger dissipate before he replied.
“I am not a petty man,” Immerson said. “Certainly not an evil man as the defendant claims. He, on the other hand, is a criminal and a sinner in want of some retributive justice. While all his words sound … noble, shall we say … they are nothing more than the ravings of a guilty man trying to blame others for his own sin.” He paused as though pondering for a moment. “Yes, guilty. That is the verdict this court has reached. His punishment is fixed as per the guidelines and the authority given to me.”
A short, acerbic laugh tumbled out of his chest. “You call me evil, but as the good book says, ‘A tree is known by its fruit.’ Tomorrow, we will see the fruit you bear. Let tomorrow be your day of reckoning.” He stood up and pounded the gavel on the podium. “So orders this court.”