by Owen Thomas
“I’m always teaching at the same time, so…”
“So you have no first hand basis for knowing what kind of teacher he is, correct?”
“I hear things. We have many of the same students. They talk. You just kind of learn about your colleagues.”
“So your opinion about Mr. Johns’ teaching abilities is based on you overhearing what other people have said about him, is that correct?”
Shepp nods.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes. And my personal knowledge of him.”
“As a friend, you mean.”
“Yes.”
“I see. Okay, Mr. Shepherd, let’s move on.”
Etus strides to the table with a new confidence, rummages through a stack of documents and extracts a sheaf of paper. He walks back to the center of the courtroom reading silently.
“Is it true that a few weeks ago you and Mr. Johns rendezvoused at a Columbus nightclub called Billy Rocks?”
A good ten seconds pass before Shepp answers.
“Yes.”
“And were you drinking alcohol?”
“Yes.”
“And was Mr. Johns drinking alcohol?”
“Beer I think.”
“And do you recall a student by the name of Brittany Kline present that night?”
“Yes. She’s a Wilson High student.”
“And also a Wilson High student named Carmen Denoffrio.”
“Yes.”
“And do you know what they were drinking that night, if anything?”
“Cokes I think.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
“Did you and Mr. Johns go to Billy Rocks together?”
“No. He met me there. He didn’t want to go. I kind of badgered him into going.”
“Do you recall whether Mr. Johns brought Ms. Kline or Ms. Denoffrio with him?”
“No.”
“No you don’t recall or no they did not come with him?”
“He came alone. They were already there when I showed up.”
“They were clearly underage and it was not legal for them to be there, correct?”
“Yes. Correct.”
“Do you know how they got in?”
“Like I said, man, I wasn’t there. They were already in the bar.”
“Mr. Shepherd, you recall that you are under oath.”
“Yeah, look they had fake ID’s. I wasn’t the one who let them in.”
“And you know they had fake ID’s because you saw them?”
“Yes.”
“They showed them to you?”
“Yes.”
“And they showed them to Mr. Johns?”
“I have no idea.”
“At any point in the evening, did you see Mr. Johns dancing with Ms. Kline or Ms. Denoffrio?”
Shepp looks at me. His face is taut. He seems suddenly old. Weathered. It’s like looking into the future.
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
“Both.”
“Both? Hmm. One after the other?”
“No. Same time. All three of them. It was pretty innocent stuff, I mean…”
“Really. Innocent. How long were they dancing?”
“I don’t know. I was doing my own thing. I wasn’t following them around.”
“Again, reminding you that you are under oath, at any time during the evening, did you witness Mr. Johns kissing either Ms. Kline or Ms. Denoffrio?”
“…”
“Mr. Shepherd?”
“Yes. I did.”
“Which one? Or was it both of them?”
“Brittany. Ms. Kline.”
The room is breathless. There is cheering from outside in the courtyard below. A man keeps bellowing something about America. Judge Archoni’s face seems to darken, his brow furrowing into a troubled landscape. Only part of the darkness in his expression belongs to him; the rest he borrows from my father in the back of the room. It is like watching an eclipse move across the face of the moon. I want to stand and turn and explain myself. I want to plead my case like we are at the dining room table with mom collecting the dishes and Tilly carrying on angrily from the staircase. I want to lay out the extenuating circumstances. The nuance. The historical context. But I cannot. I do not move. I stare at the table in front of me and listen to Glenda breathing. Etus waits.
In the sound field, when I tune out the cheers from the throngs of people outside, there is a distinct rustling of plastic just behind the rhythm of Glenda’s breathing. Somehow I am able to detach from the mortification blooming like a black rose in my brain. I glance backwards.
Ben has fished a plastic baggie out of his CD satchel. From the baggie he is extracting a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It’s the one I made him last night, a lifetime ago, when I thought he would be going to school today. He must have taken it out of the refrigerator this morning. The baggie is a little small for the sandwich. He is having to work for it. The woman next to him is watching.
The testimonial revelation that I was seen kissing one of my students in a nightclub has been suddenly demoted to second place on my list of concerns, right behind my brother violating Judge Archoni’s rule against eating in the courtroom. Ben looks up and waves. I put my finger to my lips and furrow my brow. It’s like I have shot him with an arrow. He nods. In extra slow motion he begins to nibble on the one corner of the sandwich he has managed to free from the baggie. He nods at me as he chews. Just to show me he understands. I nod back, praying to the same God who has abandoned me that Ben has not also brought the bag of corn chips.
When I turn around, Judge Archoni is looking at me. Our eyes lock. His gaze reflects both the gravity of the testimony unfolding from the witness stand in front of me, and the violation of his rules of courtroom etiquette unfolding in the gallery behind me. He is not without compassion. He knows that every word from Shepp is another dagger. He knows I am going down. He looks at Ben behind me eating his sandwich, his eyes lingering on the smears and crumbs that have no doubt already begun to accumulate on the outside of Ben’s mouth, and then back to me. He is taking my measure; apologizing for what he has already concluded about me. But he will pardon my disabled brother. He looks away as Etus sings out.
“Right there out in public, this kiss?”
“It was crowded. Everywhere was public.”
“Where in the bar were they, specifically?”
“At the top of the hallway. Leading back to the restrooms.”
“How long did it last?”
“What?”
“The kissing.”
“Maybe a millisecond.”
“He kissed her for a millisecond?”
“No. She kissed him, not the other way around.”
My whole body stiffens at that familiar distinction.
“How do you mean?” Asks Etus suspiciously.
“I mean I saw the whole thing from the bar. Dave was leaving. He didn’t want to be there. He was upset that I had made him come. He was upset that these girls were even in the bar. He was angry with me because I had not thrown them out or done anything to get them to leave and so he was leaving. Brittany was there as he was headed for the door. She just kind of … grabbed him. She mashed her mouth up against his.”
“And so they kissed.”
“No. He pushed her away.”
“He pushed her away?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure.”
“Positive. I saw it clearly.”
“And then what happened?”
“Brittany said something and pulled him by the wrist. Down the hallway.”
“Towards the restrooms?”
“Yes.”
“Could you see them when they went down the hallway?”
“No.”
“So do you know what happened in the hallway?”
“No.”
“So they could have been kissing in the hallway, correct?”
“No.”
“But you couldn�
��t see them. Correct?”
“…”
“Mr. Shepherd?”
“Correct. I couldn’t see them in the hallway.”
“Mr. Shepherd, do you know whether Ms. Kline or Mr. Johns was in the possession of any illegal drugs while they were at Billy Rocks?”
“…”
“Mr. Shepherd?”
“…”
“Mr. Shepherd, I know he is your friend and that this puts you in a difficult…”
“On advice of counsel I wish to exercise my rights under the Fifth Amendment of the United States Constitution and decline to answer the question.”
Judge Archoni sits up and leans forward, looking at Glenda. Etus too whips his head around, looking sharply from me to Glenda and back again. I look at Glenda. She is typing. I look at her computer screen.
Keep your game face on, Dave.
My mind is racing. The Fifth? The back of Etus’ neck is turning pink.
“Mr. Shepherd. You are here today, under subpoena, under oath, to testify in a matter that is not about you. You are here to testify in a matter regarding the employment of Mr. Johns. I am not interested in your conduct and this is not a criminal proceeding. Do you understand that?”
“Yes.”
“So, let me ask you again, do you know whether Mr. Johns or Ms. Kline had possession of illegal drugs that night at Billy Rocks?”
“On advice of counsel I wish to exercise my rights under the Fifth Amendment of the United States Constitution and decline to answer the question.”
Etus puts his hands on his hips and turns and looks straight through Principal Robert B. Robertson III who is looking back helplessly. I can hear Etus breathing in and out through his nose. He turns back to Shepp, who is staring blankly at his tabletop.
“Did you see Ms. Kline leave the bar with Mr. Johns?”
“No.”
“No you didn’t see them or no ….”
“Dave left alone.”
“Did you see Ms. Kline leave the bar that night?”
“On advice of counsel I wish to exercise my rights under the Fifth Amendment of the United States Constitution and decline to answer the question.”
“Did you have any interactions or conversations with Ms. Kline or Ms. Denoffrio after Mr. Johns left Billy Rocks?”
“On advice of counsel I wish to exercise my rights under the Fifth Amendment of the United States Constitution and decline to answer the question.”
Holy…I look over at Glenda’s computer screen.
Suck it, Etus.
“Mr. Shepherd, do you have any reason to believe that Mr. Johns knows anything regarding the disappearance or the whereabouts of Brittany Kline?”
“No. I mean, I have no idea what he knows about that.”
“Do you, Mr. Shepherd, have any knowledge regarding the disappearance or the whereabouts of Brittany Kline?”
“On advice of counsel I wish to exercise my rights under the Fifth Amendment of the United States Constitution and decline to answer the question.”
The room behind me is like a field of tall grass in a sudden gust, all whispers and movement that pulls at the roots. I look at Glenda. Her face is inscrutable. Her screen is blank. The crowd outside is chanting.
“Your Honor,” says Etus. “This is calculated obstruction. This should not…”
“Mr. Etus, the afternoon is growing a bit long in the tooth. So unless you can think of a way to quickly repeal the Fifth Amendment, I suggest you deal with it.”
Etus breaks away from Archoni’s gaze and returns to his table in a huff, huddling with Robertson. Judge Archoni scowls at his watch.
“Mr. Etus?”
“Your honor, I have nothing further at this time for Mr. Shepherd.”
“Very well. The people in the gallery will stop their murmuring. Mr. Johns?”
My head is swimming. I look at my notes. The only thought that I have managed to reduce to writing is Int. Des. Text. Pamphl. Glenda is typing furiously.
“Mr. Johns?”
I stand.
“Shepp… Mr. Shepherd.” He looks at me like a dog afraid of being beaten with a newspaper. “You stated earlier that you have never had much of a problem dealing with the issue of evolution and Intelligent Design.”
“No. I mean, that’s right.”
“Which do you teach in your class?”
“I cover both.”
“Is that your decision? As the teacher?”
“No.”
“Whose decision is it?”
“It’s part of the curriculum.”
“Intelligent Design is part of the curriculum?”
“Not exactly. The formal curriculum requires that I single out natural selection for special critical scrutiny as a scientific theory.”
“But aside from requiring that you subject evolution to special critical scrutiny, the formal curriculum does not require you to teach the theory of Intelligent Design?”
“You mean the text book?”
“Yes.”
“The text book does not specifically get into Intelligent Design, no.”
“Are there other materials?”
“Yes.”
“There is a pamphlet…”
“Objection.” Etus is up and sounding disgusted. Robertson looks like he is about to pop. Etus points at me with his glasses. “Your honor, we are wasting valuable time. This has nothing to do with Mr. Johns’ behavior. If your Honor is concerned about …”
“Mr. Johns, I confess to not seeing the relevance,” says Archoni. “Let’s wrap this up and move on.”
I nod. Glenda stands.
“Your Honor, can the witness at least finish his answer?”
“Keep it short. Mr. Shepherd, please continue.”
“There is a pamphlet that lays out Intelligent Design as a co-equal scientific theory. I teach that too.”
“And is that your idea?”
“No. Principal Robertson insists.”
“What does that mean? Insists.”
“He has made it clear that if I want to teach at Wilson, then I must include discussion of Intelligent Design as a part of the lesson plan.”
There are sounds of unrest coming from Robertson’s direction. I ignore them and keep pushing, expecting Archoni to cut me off at any moment.
“Do you think that is a legal request?”
“I’m not a lawyer. I don’t know if it’s legal or illegal.”
“But Principal Robertson is forcing you to deviate from the natural sciences curriculum as determined by the Board of Education?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever complained?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Wanted to keep my job.”
“And now?”
Shepp shrugs.
“Probably too late for that anyway.”
Glenda clears her throat. I flip through my notepad, looking sideways at her screen. There are several short lines. Commands. I read them.
Darrin Burke. Freddy Hoyer.
I reread them. I look down at Glenda. She keeps typing as though I am irrelevant.
He’ll never let me ask about this. You have to. It’s your case. He’ll give you more room. Ask as much as you can before he shuts you down. If he refuses to answer, then stop asking.
“Mr. Johns?”
“Mr. Shepherd, do you remember Darrin Berke and Freddy Hoyer?”
There is a flurry of whispering at the table next to me. Shepp looks at me, stunned. He recovers quickly.
“Yes. They were students at Wilson.”
“They were expelled, weren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“Why were they expelled?”
“Objection! This is more irrelevant distraction your honor. We are wasting time.”
Judge Archoni is nodding. He rocks in his chair, looking at me. We wait. Etus is practically frozen in space, arm extended.
“I am inclined to agree with you Mr. Etus.” Etus sits. “Bu
t I confess that the force of your objection coming, as it has, before the subject of this line of questioning has revealed itself has thoroughly whetted my curiosity.” He looks at me. “Mr. Johns, I’ll give you five minutes. If I am not persuaded that the testimony is relevant to your case, then I’m pulling the plug and we’re moving on.”
“Thank you, Judge. Mr. Shepherd, why were they expelled?”
“Your Honor, I must renew my objection.”
“Noted, Mr. Etus. Sit.”
“Darrin and Freddy were expelled for possession of drugs on school property.”
“What kind of drugs?”
“Marijuana.”
“Where was the marijuana found?”
“In their lockers. Security did a search.”
“Did they admit it was their pot?”
“No.”
“Do you think it was their pot?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I think it was my pot.”
“Can you explain why you think that? Uh… quickly.”
“Darrin and Freddy were … like… troubled. You knew them. They liked to pick fights. Attendance issues. You remember.”
“Yes.”
“Nuisances. Academically they were at the bottom of the barrel. They weren’t stupid, but they also were not succeeding. D students. I had complained to Principal Robertson about each of them on several occasions. I know you did too.”
“Okay…”
“I used to have this model frog in my classroom that I use to talk about asexual reproduction. It disappeared one day. I was pretty sure Freddy and Darrin were the ones who took it. They were always playing with it. I couldn’t prove anything. I just knew it was them. I walked them down to Principal Robertson’s office and explained the situation. I went back to class while he gave them the third degree.”
“What happened next?”
“Nothing. Until lunch.”
“And…?” I give Shepp the hand-over-hand, hurry-the-fuck-up gesture.
“At lunch, Robertson comes into my classroom. He asks to see my backpack, which I keep under my desk. I asked why. He wouldn’t tell me. I refused. He said if I refused he would call the police so that they could search the backpack. What choice did I have, man? I gave him the backpack. He found what he was looking for.”
“Which was what?”
“Three nickel bags. Marijuana.”
