Con Law

by Mark Gimenez

  Mr. Stanton leaned down again and held up another T-shirt that read: OBAMA-MART: WHEN EVERYTHING IS FREE BECAUSE THE GUY BEHIND YOU PAYS.

  The class enjoyed the T-shirt.

  ‘Mr. Stanton, did you go shopping this weekend?’

  ‘Yep. In honor of our last class with Ms. Garza and her T-shirts.’

  ‘Ah.’

  Ms. Garza was not yet ready to surrender.

  ‘We do too have forty million people who can’t afford health insurance—they said so on the evening news.’

  Mr. Stanton laughed. ‘You shouldn’t be so gullible, Ms. Garza. The poverty industry puts out that misinformation so the government will keep sending trillions their way. And the liberal media repeats it without investigation because it fits their political bias.’

  ‘Let’s get back to Obamacare,’ Book said. ‘Under the rationale of this case, is there any human activity or non-activity that Congress may not regulate under the Constitution?’

  ‘Nope,’ Mr. Stanton said. ‘They’ve got it all now. In fact, in oral arguments, the justices asked the government lawyer that exact question, and he couldn’t think of a single human act that would be free from government control. So now five justices—five lawyers—have given Congress the absolute authority to tell us to do something, to tell us how to do it, and to fine us—I’m sorry, tax us—if we refuse to do it. I think that’s what they call communism.’

  ‘It’s called social justice,’ Ms. Garza said.

  ‘Only if you’re a communist.’

  ‘All right,’ Book said, ‘today’s Supreme Court decisions are precedents for tomorrow’s decisions. When the Court decided Obamacare, the justices searched for precedents to support their positions. Now that Obamacare has been ruled constitutional—now that the Supreme Court has given its stamp of approval to Congress passing laws that tax citizens if they refuse to engage in a specified commercial activity—what might be the next law that climbs on top of this precedent?’

  ‘Taxing us if we refuse to buy that Chevy to protect the domestic auto industry?’

  ‘Yes. But I’m thinking of something bigger.’

  ‘Taxing us if we refuse to eat vegetables?’

  ‘Come on, people. This requires thought. Think about the Court’s prior cases, big precedents that made law, like this case. Put those precedents together and what do you have? If the government can force the citizens to do something they don’t want to do by taxing them if they refuse to do it, where might that precedent lead us?’

  ‘To Russia and Comrade Putin,’ Mr. Stanton said.

  He held up another T-shirt: OBAMACARE: HEALTHCARE YOU CAN’T REFUSE. Which evoked more laughter.

  Book scanned the class. Mr. Brennan was dutifully transcribing his every word, other students were texting or tweeting or zoning out. His eyes landed on a head hiding behind her laptop.

  ‘Ms. Roberts.’

  She peeked above the laptop.

  ‘You know, don’t you?’

  She nodded as if confessing to a crime.

  ‘Please, tell the class.’

  She pushed hair from her face and spoke in her soft voice. The class seemed to lean toward her as one.

  ‘Well, under the Obamacare ruling, the government can’t order a woman to have an abortion even though medical care is commerce because that would exceed Congress’s authority under the Commerce Clause; but, under the same Obamacare ruling, the government can tax a woman if she refuses to have an abortion.’

  ‘But the Bill of Rights would prohibit the government from doing that.’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t. The Court in Roe v. Wade ruled that the, quote, “developing organism” inside the woman has no constitutional rights or protections whatsoever under the Bill of Rights because it is not a, quote, “person” prior to birth. Under the precedents of Roe and Obamacare, the Court would uphold such a law. And the circle would be complete: we are nothing more than rocks.’

  ‘But why would our government ever do such a thing?’

  ‘Perhaps the sonogram shows the baby has a genetic defect that would require expensive medical care for life. Or the woman is unmarried with no means of support for the child, and public support would add to the deficit. They would do it to save money.’

  ‘But that’s just wild speculation, isn’t it? I mean, we don’t have anything to really worry about, do we? We’re an advanced civilization. What civilized nation on earth would ever pass such a law?’

  ‘China.’

  ‘Thank you, Ms. Roberts.’

  Mr. Stanton held up another T-shirt: OBAMACARE: BEND OVER, THIS IS GONNA HURT.

  ‘Mr. Stanton, how many of those do you have?’

  ‘Just one more.’

  ‘But, Professor,’ Ms. Garza said, ‘if the government can’t force people to do the right thing, how can the government solve big problems like healthcare?’

  ‘Ms. Garza, the Framers did not create a federal government that possesses all powers except those denied in the Constitution, but rather a government that possesses only those powers granted in the Constitution. Perhaps the federal government isn’t supposed to solve—or try to solve—every social problem in America. To solve the problem of obesity, the federal government is now telling every school district in America what to feed their students for lunch. Is that what Madison, Hamilton, Jefferson, and Washington intended the national government to do when they created this country? Perhaps that responsibility resides in the fifty states.’

  ‘But we have an obesity problem in America,’ Ms. Garza said.

  Ms. Roberts raised her hand. Book nodded at her.

  ‘The dissent wrote, “The Constitution enumerates not federally soluble problems, but federally available powers … Article One contains no whatever-it-takes-to-solve-a-problem power.” I like that.’

  Ms. Garza glared at her. ‘Like this, Liz.’

  Another middle finger. Book couldn’t help but hope that Ms. Garza was put in another professor’s Con Law II class next year. Mr. Stanton stood on the back row.

  ‘Professor, in honor of our last class with Ms. Garza and her T-shirts, I offer this final rebuttal.’

  Mr. Stanton yanked open his button-down shirt to reveal a white T-shirt underneath that read: F#CK OBAMACARE, I’M MOVING TO CANADA.

  The class laughed.

  ‘And with that, ladies and gentlemen, Con Law One is adjourned for the year.’

  The students applauded. The males slapped backs and exchanged fist-bumps; the females embraced. Classes were finished; final exams awaited. Some students left, others gathered around Book. He signed books; they took photos.

  The Marfa story had hit the national media.

  * * *

  Book returned to his office to find Myrna on the phone.

  ‘Here he is.’ She held the phone out to him. ‘The police.’

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Professor, it’s Sergeant Taylor again. Your mother wandered off, we found her at the Condoms to Go store. Took her back home, I’m waiting for your sister.’

  ‘Thank you, Sergeant.’

  ‘Professor …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s time.’

  He handed the phone to Myrna then rubbed his forehead. The stitches had come out, but the scar itched.

  Myrna smiled. ‘All the girls think that scar makes you look sexy.’

  ‘Oh, good. What time is the Welch hearing?’

  ‘Canceled.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Scotty Raines called, said the D.A. dropped all charges against Bobby Welch. And his dad called from the Betty Ford Clinic in Palm Springs. Said he checked the boy in for six months. Said thank you and that he had fulfilled both promises.’ She looked up from her notes. ‘Promises?’

  ‘Personal.’

  She leaned down and came back up with a plastic container. She held it out to Book.

  ‘Fried chicken. And don’t worry, I fried it in peanut oil. You won’t die if you eat it.’

  ‘Thanks.�
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  She went back to her notes. ‘TV shows want you on next Sunday.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  She regarded him. ‘You okay?’

  ‘No. Mail?’

  She aimed a thumb at his office. He turned to his office, but—

  ‘You don’t have time. You’re late for the big faculty meeting. The new assistant dean.’

  Book entered the faculty meeting and found an open seat between Henry Lawson and Professors Sheila Manfried and Jonah Goldman. Professor Manfried whispered to Jonah, ‘I wonder if we can make more money at the new Texas A&M law school?’

  The school had settled her sex discrimination claim by paying her $25,000 more in salary, giving her a $250,000 forgivable loan, and granting her a contractual right to see every other professor’s compensation numbers.

  ‘Admin admitted a hundred fewer tuition-payers for next year’s one-L class,’ Professor Goldman said. ‘That’s three million in lost tuition. They’ve got to cut our salaries.’

  ‘I’ll go to A&M for more money,’ Professor Manfried said.

  Professor Goldman grimaced. ‘And be an Aggie? Just the thought of it makes me shudder.’

  Book popped the top on the plastic container and offered fried chicken to Henry. He grabbed a drumstick and bit into it. Dean Roscoe Chambers stepped to the head of the conference table. The faculty fell silent. Roscoe looked like a senior U.S. senator. And he had the voice to match.

  ‘I have a big announcement to make. Professor Lawson, would you please step to the front?’

  Henry turned to Book with a puzzled look; Book shrugged. Henry stood and walked over to the dean, who put an arm around Henry’s shoulders. Henry continued his assault on the drumstick.

  ‘Oh, my God,’ Professor Goldman said, ‘Roscoe’s appointing Henry our new assistant dean.’

  ‘But he’s not a lesbian,’ Professor Manfried said.

  ‘He’s married with two children.’

  ‘I want to be the first to welcome Henry Lawson to the club,’ Roscoe said.

  ‘Tenure?’ Henry said.

  Roscoe laughed. ‘Tenure? No, the dean’s club.’

  ‘I’m the new assistant dean?’

  ‘No. The new dean.’

  Book thought Professor Manfried might faint.

  ‘You’re retiring?’

  ‘What? Hell, no, I’m not retiring. You’re not the new dean here at UT, Henry. You’re the new dean at the new Texas A&M law school.’

  Henry almost choked on the chicken. ‘I am?’

  Roscoe laughed again. ‘Listen to him playing coy with us. Now, Henry, you’re going to be sitting on a pile of money with the two hundred million James Welch donated to the A&M law school—’

  James Welch had earned his MBA from UT, but he had earned his B.S. from A&M. He supported both of his alma maters generously. And he kept his promises.

  ‘—so promise you won’t steal all my professors.’

  Henry gazed upon the assembled faculty, at the Harvard–Yale cartel.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, Roscoe. I would never do that.’

  Dean Roscoe Chambers applauded Henry, and the faculty joined in.

  Book waited for Henry to accept congratulations from the other faculty members. Then Henry came over to Book; he arrived with the drumstick in his hand and a suspicious look on his face.

  ‘I think I owe you big time,’ he said.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘This.’

  ‘Congratulations, Henry. That’s where you belong. Just make your law school the best in Texas, or at least as good as the football team.’

  ‘The football team’s got more money.’

  ‘It is Texas.’

  Professor Manfried walked past and said, ‘Henry, I’ll email you my CV.’

  After she was out of earshot, Henry said, ‘I’ve got to remember to block her email address.’

  They shared a chuckle. Roscoe called to Henry, so they shook hands. Henry took a step away but stopped.

  ‘Book, anytime you want to move to College Station, there’s a tenured job waiting for you.’

  ‘Thanks, Henry. But this is where I belong.’

  Henry walked over to the dean, and Book walked out. Before he got to the door, Dean Roscoe Chambers yelled to him.

  ‘Bookman … get a haircut.’

  Book returned to his office and found Myrna on the phone again. She held the receiver out to him and whispered, ‘Your sister.’

  He took the phone and put it to his ear. ‘Joanie.’

  ‘Book—’

  ‘I’m going to move Mom in this weekend.’

  ‘Good. You want to say hi to her?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Hold on. I’ll put her on.’

  A small voice came over. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Mom, it’s Book.’

  ‘What book?’

  ‘No … it’s John. Your son.’

  ‘My son?’

  ‘You want to live with me?’

  ‘Who?’

  Joanie came back on. ‘Sorry, Book, it’s a cloudy day for her.’

  ‘I’ll take care of her.’

  He would take care of her, but who would take care of him?

  * * *

  He walked into his office where he found a young woman sitting at his work table and reading his mail. She had a sucker in her mouth.

  ‘Who are you?’

  She removed the sucker. It was a red Tootsie Roll Pop.

  ‘Veronica Cross. I’m your new intern. But I don’t work nights or weekends, I don’t do—’

  ‘Where’s Nadine?’

  ‘She quit.’

  ‘Why?’

  Veronica shrugged her shoulders. ‘All she said was she didn’t go to law school to get shot at and run off the road and put into the hospital and drink lousy coffee in West Texas. She was just joking, right, Professor?’

  Book walked over and stared out the window at the campus. Sooner or later they all quit.

  ‘Right, Professor?’

  He sighed. ‘Yes, Ms. Cross. She was just joking.’

  ‘I thought so.’

  ‘The coffee wasn’t that bad.’

  He turned to his new intern. She was not dressed like a student, but like a lawyer in a high-collared white blouse, long black skirt, and shiny black heels. Her short black hair was neatly done, and her makeup perfect. She sat with erect posture.

  ‘Oh, she did say one more thing.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Something about living without a net, whatever that means. I heard she quit law school and is moving to France to become a chef. Is that crazy or what?’

  Book smiled. ‘Or what.’

  ‘And she said to tell you that you’re her hero.’

  ‘She said that?’

  ‘Uh, yeah.’

  Veronica gestured with the Tootsie Roll Pop at the stack of mail on the table in front of her.

  ‘So let me get this straight: pathetic people from all over the country write these letters to you and expect you to drop everything and run off and help them? Like you’ve got nothing better to do? I mean, seriously?’

  ‘Seriously.’

  ‘So I’ve got to read about all their pitiful lives every week?’

  ‘Every week.’

  She exhaled. ‘These people should stop whining about injustice and go out and get a job and make something of themselves.’

  ‘A little compassion-challenged, are we, Ms. Cross?’

  Veronica Cross groaned. ‘Oh, God. My dad was right. He watches you on TV, said you were a liberal Democrat.’

  Book smiled again. Perhaps the internship would prove helpful to Ms. Cross.

  ‘Let me know if you find any letters I should read.’

  Veronica held out an envelope, almost reluctantly.

  ‘Well … this one is sort of interesting.’

  About the author

  Born and educated in Texas, Mark Gimenez attended law school at Notre Dame, Indiana, and practiced with a
large Dallas law firm. He lives in Texas. He has written six previous novels: The Colour of Law, The Abduction, The Perk, The Common Lawyer, Accused, and The Governor’s Wife.