No Law Against Love

by Deborah MacGillivray

  “Order,” the clerk of the court pronounced to the last few who were settling in their seats.

  Judith called for the prosecutor to begin. “You may state your case for the record, Mr. White.”

  “Thank you, Judge Perkins. The Social Services Department of the Commonwealth of Virginia, Fairfax County brings charges against the defendant, Mr. Cole Harris, in the matter of gross abuse to his wife, Kathryn Harris. This defendant has had these charges leveled against him on six prior occasions, Your Honor, and he does not appear to have benefited from counseling sessions rendered free of charge to him by this Court.”

  Prosecutor White looked from his notes to the judge, as a sneer bracketed his lips. “The State will show through the testimony of two witnesses, Your Honor, that Mr. Harris did willfully and without concern for his beloved wife, bring her to a convulsive state by breaking the law of this Commonwealth.”

  Judith waited a few seconds for the court reporter who was recording the proceedings. “Very well, Mr. White, you may call your first witness.”

  The court clerk looked down at his records and said loudly, “The Court calls Cecelia Ling to the stand.”

  The doors at the back of the courtroom swung open and a petite Asian woman stiffly walked down the aisle and entered the arena. She minced toward the witness stand and climbed into the box. Turning toward the audience, she was approached by the clerk. “Please raise your right hand and state your name.”

  In slightly broken English, the woman uttered, “My name Cecelia Ling.”

  “Ms. Ling, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

  “I do,” Ms. Ling replied.

  “Please be seated,” the clerk of the court ordered.

  Approaching the witness, Mr. White began, “Ms. Ling, could you please state your profession for the Court?”

  “Yes. I a Fairfax County social worker.”

  “And in serving your duties, Ms. Ling, did the crime committed by this defendant, Mr. Harris, come to your attention?”

  “Objection. Leading the witness,” Mr. Byers interjected.

  “Please rephrase your question, Mr. White,” Judith recommended.

  “Right. In performing your duties, Ms. Ling, how did the crime committed by the defendant come to your attention?” Mr. White mimicked.

  “I in my office one day, ‘bout two month ago, when I get telephone call from Elizabeth Monroe.”

  “And who is Ms. Monroe, Ms. Ling?” the prosecutor’s sonorous voice boomed out as he rocked forward on the balls of his feet, staring at the witness as if willing her to remember her lines.

  Ms. Ling jerked to attention in her seat. “She sister to Mrs. Kathryn Harris.”

  “So, the sister of the wife of the defendant called you?”

  “That correct.”

  “Did Ms. Monroe inform you at that time of the perpetration of the crime against her sister?”

  “Objection…again, leading the witness.” Michael Byers didn’t like objections, but he also didn’t want the defendant to be run roughshod through the court. Plus, keeping the prosecutor on his toes was part of the game.

  “Mr. White,” the judge pleaded, “please format your question so the answer isn’t implied therein.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.” He returned his attention to the witness stand. “Ms. Ling, why did Ms. Monroe call you?”

  “She call to say her sister being abused by her husband. Could she come to see me in person and talk?”

  “And what was your response?”

  “I tell her okay. Come see me. She come and I take statement about the defendant, sitting at that table,” at which point Ms. Ling threw a skinny finger in the direction of Cole, “abusing his wife.”

  The prosecutor’s glare and slight headshake caused the witness to quickly retract the extended digit and hide it in her lap. It became evident to the entire court that she should have waited for him to ask her to point out the criminal. Snickers erupted throughout the room, but just as quickly subsided with one hammer of the judge’s gavel.

  “Would you please state for the record what Ms. Monroe told you after coming to your office?” Mr. White asked, ignoring the spectators and clearly trying to regain control of the courtroom.

  Judith was impressed when Michael Byers looked at her, but decided not to object because of ‘hearsay.’ He knew he’d be overruled, since the woman was an expert witness. It told her volumes about the defense counsel’s moxie and integrity in the courtroom. The man was a no-nonsense lawyer.

  “She say she visiting with sister and brother-in-law. They invite her to dinner. After eating, everyone sitting around, enjoying themselves. They watch movie. Some comedy Ms. Monroe bring to sister’s house. But Ms. Monroe say her sister not find movie funny. Then her husband also say it not so funny.” Ms. Ling stopped talking and looked from the prosecutor to the judge and back again to Mr. White.

  “Go on, Ms. Ling,” the prosecutor prompted.

  “Then Ms. Monroe tell me that her sister, Kathryn Harris, say out loud, ‘I’d just as soon Cole tickle me as to continue watching something called comedy that not make me laugh.’”

  “And those were Ms. Monroe’s exact words?” Attorney White queried, knowingly shaking his head.

  “Exactly…I know this cause I write words down and memorize them for testimony today.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Ling,” the prosecutor hurriedly said. He didn’t want the judge lingering over that comment and arriving at the conclusion this witness’s testimony was blatantly rehearsed. “So, on the basis of this discussion with Ms. Monroe, you decided to bring charges against the defendant, Mr. Cole Harris?”

  “That right. No should break the law,” Ms. Ling prejudged, ending her dialog.

  “No further questions, Your Honor,” White rejoined, taking his seat at the prosecutor’s table.

  “Mr. Byers, your witness,” the judge said.

  Michael stood. “No questions of this witness, Your Honor.”

  “Very well. Mr. White, please call your next witness.”

  The clerk of the court stood. “Will Ms. Elizabeth Monroe please take the stand?”

  The guardian of the courtroom opened the heavy, solid oak door to receive Ms. Elizabeth Monroe. Dressed to optimize her assets, a well-endowed young woman strutted the distance to the witness stand.

  She was sworn in by the star-struck, tongue-tied court reporter.

  The prosecutor stood, approached the witness stand, and guided her through the paces of corroborating expert witness Ling’s testimony.

  Satisfied the witness had supported the major points, White proceeded to put the lid on his case. “Ms. Monroe,” he queried, “why did you report the incident that occurred at your sister’s house to Ms. Cecelia Ling, in her capacity as a social worker?”

  Emitting a little huff, Ms. Monroe sat forward in her chair. Licking her brightly glossed, red lips, she practically spat, “He’s been warned before about this type of behavior, yet ruthlessly continues to ignore the Court’s rulings. He has—unmercifully in my opinion—tickled my sister until tears ran down her cheeks and she couldn’t stop laughing! I have witnessed his actions time and time again, and believe such behavior is intolerable. The man should be thrown behind bars. And, to make matters worse, his own children were standing right there watching while he did this to their mother.”

  “No!” Mr. White exclaimed, feigning surprise and shock. “In front of his own children? Ms. Monroe, do you believe you could correctly gauge—by the expressions on the children’s faces—their reactions to this unconscionable conduct?”

  “Objection,” Mr. Byers intervened from the defendant’s table. “It hasn’t been shown that this witness is trained in child psychology and capable of forming an opinion on child behavior.”

  “Sustained,” Judith agreed. “However, I will consider her comments in light of the fact she has no specific training.”

  “Well then, in your opinion, Ms. Mo
nroe, what were the children’s reactions?” the disgruntled prosecutor asked.

  “I found it appalling,” Ms. Monroe replied, the look of disgust openly visible on her face. “They looked like they would have loved to join in and take part.”

  “So, what you’re saying, Ms. Monroe, is given the opportunity, these young, impressionable children—seated in the audience—would have jumped right in and participated with their parents in breaking the law?”

  “I definitely believe that to be the case, sir.” She slapped her hands, one on top of the other in her lap.

  “That’s all for this witness, Your Honor,” the prosecutor said, but his facial expression clearly indicated he wished there was a way to extend his conversation with her.

  “Mr. Byers?” Judith turned from the prosecutor and looked appraisingly to see if there was going to be a cross examination.

  “Yes, thank you, Your Honor.” Michael Byers jotted a few notes on a pad on the table, then stood and approached the witness.

  Without preamble he said, “Miss Monroe, would it be fair to state you do not particularly like your brother-in-law, Cole Harris?”

  Flummoxed, Ms. Monroe’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t know quite what to be indignant about—the attorney’s address of ‘Miss’ or his matter-of-fact statement about Cole.

  “Miss Monroe?” Mr. Byers prodded, turning his back on her as if indicating he didn’t truly care what she answered.

  “I’m sorry, that was a rather abrupt question,” she stated, trying unsuccessfully to smile demurely to those in the courtroom, particularly the judge.

  “Yes or no would be a sufficient answer,” he said, turning back to face her.

  “Okay. Yes,” she said, not caring that her voice had gone up an octave or two.

  “Yes, what, Miss Monroe?”

  “I do not particularly like my sister’s choice in husbands.”

  “Husbands, Miss Monroe? Why, has your sister had more than one you didn’t like?” the defense attorney asked, cutting his eyes away from and then back to the witness.

  “No, he’s the only one she’s had,” the witness testified, wishing she hadn’t mentioned it.

  “Do you have a husband, Miss Monroe?”

  “Objection, Your Honor. Irrelevant and no lead-in to this line of questioning. The witness is not on trial,” the prosecutor railed.

  “Mr. Byers?” the judge queried, a hint of a smile threatening to pull at the corner of her mouth.

  “I intend to show relevance, Your Honor, and the witness, herself, raised the line of questioning by bringing up husbands.”

  “I’ll allow it,” the judge ruled. “Please answer the question, Ms. Monroe.”

  “No,” the witness said flatly.

  “No, you’re not married, or no, you won’t answer the question?” Mr. Byers taunted.

  A nonplussed look came over the witness’ face. “No, I’m not married,” she said, trying desperately to control her tone.

  “I’m always amused at how people become terse when they don’t wish to respond,” defense counsel offered, his eyes twinkling in merriment.

  “Objection. The defense is badgering the witness,” Mr. White bellowed, practically knocking his chair backwards as he jumped up.

  “Mr. Byers, mind your manners,” the judge intoned, a smile edging her lips.

  “Yes, Your Honor.” He turned back to face the witness stand. “So, Miss Monroe, you have no husband at present. Have you ever been married?”

  Wringing her clasped hands, the witness eked out, “Yes.”

  “Please let the record indicate Miss Monroe said yes. In fact, let me get right to the point and state for the record that the current witness has previously had four husbands. All of them whom she divorced. She has no children.” Giving the woman a dismissive glance, he faced the judge. “Those are all the questions I have for this witness, Your Honor,” he said, returning to his chair.

  Directing her attention to the prosecutor, the judge queried, “Do you have any further witnesses, Mr. White?”

  Remaining in his seat, the assistant D.A. responded, “No, Your Honor. The prosecution rests.”

  “Very well.” She then addressed the defense attorney. “Mr. Byers?”

  “Yes. I have one witness, Your Honor.” He nodded to the clerk of the court, who called, “Kathryn Harris, please take the stand.”

  Standing and leaning over to whisper something to an older woman sitting on one side of the children, Kathryn Harris patted each child on the shoulder. She kissed their cheeks and proudly made her way to the witness box. Assuming her place, shoulders back and chin raised, she stood as she was sworn in by the clerk of court.

  The defense attorney approached his witness. “Mrs. Harris, has the testimony you’ve heard by the two previous witnesses been stated correctly?”

  Leaning forward toward the microphone, her bright blue eyes wide and twinkling, Kathryn Harris smiled. “I believe it has.”

  “Do you mean to tell this court you consider your husband is guilty of abusing you as stated in the charges brought forth by the prosecution?” the smiling attorney questioned incredulously. He began to walk slowly back toward the defendant’s table.

  “Oh, no, Mr. Byers,” Kathryn said, as she watched Cole’s lawyer casually lean against the side of the table. ”Regrettably, my husband did indeed break a law. But he did not abuse me.”

  “Would you please explain your answer for the benefit of the court, Mrs. Harris?”

  “I’d be happy to, sir. My husband likes to amuse me, not abuse me,” she stated, smiling in the direction of the defense table, her love for the defendant obvious in the spark in her eyes.

  Kathryn’s thoughts traveled back in time, to when she’d first met Cole. She turned to address the judge. “Your Honor, it’s probably not relevant, but may I beg the court’s indulgence for a few minutes?”

  At the judge’s nod, she turned to face her husband and continued. “I met Cole when I worked in the drive-in teller’s cage at a local bank. It was a few minutes before closing and no one had been through the line in more than ten minutes. I’d started tallying up my drawer’s receipts for the day and wasn’t exactly paying attention to the drive-though. Even though extremely tired, I jumped in surprise as the well-tuned, sixties muscle-car purred thunderously to a halt under the portico. My exhaustion quickly dissipated as I found myself dazzled by the most incredibly piercing, sky-blue eyes that stared up at me through my tinted, bullet-resistant window. And, as if that weren’t enough, the man’s smile completely disarmed me.”

  Kathryn twisted around to face the judge. “Your Honor, love at first sight was something I’d scoffed at for years, as my easily smitten girlfriends fell from one romance to another. Despite their wandering affections, I’d always told myself, ‘When it comes along, I’m sure I’ll recognize it.’ And ‘it’ had just pulled up to make a deposit.” Her eyes swerved back to her husband. Tears welled in them as she remembered that happy day.

  Returning from the momentary reverie, she continued, “My sister, whom I forgive for her poisoned approach to life, has always been jealous of the love my husband and I have for each other and for our children. Because of that, she has repeatedly taken advantage of an antiquated law on Virginia’s books, six times previously in fact, to try and harm our unity. I’m not sure why she has such a bitter outlook on life and love. In addition, I’ve actually tried to discover the background of the law that states it’s illegal to tickle women. However, while I’ve been unable to trace its origins, I do know I’d certainly like to change it. Maybe the framers of the law had the same misguided reasoning as my sister and were unhappy with their own lives. Whatever…the law needs to be rescinded and stricken from the books.”

  Both children in the front row gave a little wave toward their mommy, who in turn waved back. The older woman, now sitting between the two children, hugged them tightly into her sides.

  “I’ve heard enough,” Judith said, exasperated
over the day’s events. “Would the attorneys please approach the Bench?”

  She addressed both lawyers sotto voce. “I’ve reached my decision in this matter.” Turning to the prosecuting attorney, she leveled her gaze. “Mr. White, if you entertain the idea of bringing a matter of this type based on some archaic law into my Court again, I will ensure you face contempt charges. I should think you and your office would have matters far more important than entertaining frivolous antics brought by mentally deficient busybodies. You may return to your tables,” she said in dismissal, her eyes taking in both men.

  Banging her gavel, she addressed the entire assemblage. “It’s my opinion this matter has no merit. Therefore, I’m dismissing the charges against Cole Harris. Furthermore, I’m having his otherwise perfect record expunged of all previous charges, these being the only reasons for prior arrests. Additionally, although I do not have the jurisdiction or authority to repeal a law, silly or not, I’m putting Mr. and Mrs. Harris in touch with a newly elected Virginia state senator who will, hopefully, begin steps to have this law removed from the books of this Commonwealth.”

  Banging her gavel one final time, she pronounced, “Case dismissed.”

  Kathryn Harris descended the witness box and tearfully rushed into the open arms of her adoring husband. Cole wrapped his arms around her and pulled her toward him. He kissed her tenderly on the lips and then gently tweaked his fingers into her sides, causing her to giggle. She had to bury her head into his chest to keep from bursting out in joyous laughter.

  Judith Perkins smiled to herself as she watched the overt affection displayed by the young couple. Yes, this antiquated law needed to be changed, and with the dedication these two had to each other, she had no doubt they’d give it their all to get the law repealed someday—just as they appeared to have given their all to each other through the years.

  She rose, exited the courtroom and headed back to her chambers. Sighing, she removed her robe and hung it on a rack in the corner; it had been a long, stressful day. Suddenly smiling, she knew exactly what she planned to do now. She was going home to spend a quiet evening with her husband, watch a movie, and as this young couple had chosen to do—she was going to tickle her husband until they both fell into bed laughing.