The Second Doublewide on the Right, part 42

I’m Fixin’ To Present Part 42 of The Second Doublewide on the Right:

After Judge Thurston J Garfield III and State Senator Johnny Graham had concluded their highly illegal agreement, which would entail rendering a decision in the case the judge had taken under advisement in favor of the defendant—The Rawlston Corporation, owned by the senator’s son-in-law. The senator, in reciprocation, had strongly indicated he could get the judge appointed to an open seat on the Georgia State Supreme Court.

After their meeting on the deck, Judge Thurston J. returned directly to the bar where the young bartender quickly exchanged his empty glass for a fresh vodka and tonic, so that when he made his way across the room to where Velma’s group was gathered, she supposed he was still nursing his first drink, when in fact, it was actually his fourth of the evening.

The dinner party turned out to be a very nice affair. The judge cut himself off after his third bar drink and Velma was pleased that he didn’t get drunk and embarrass her, but he didn’t need alcohol after his conversation with the senator—he was drunk on anticipation.

After they got home Thurston J. lingered in the den watching the late news while Velma went into the bedroom to get ready for bed. He had made a habit of not going in there until she was under the covers.

During the middle of the TV Weatherman’s predictions he got up and peeked into the bedroom and just as he suspected, Velma was dead to the world. She usually popped one of those little sleeping pills that Doctor Ned prescribed for her, and it only took about 10 minutes before she was gone.

He thought about going to bed himself, but he was wide awake and there was nothing he hated more than lying in bed, tossing and turning, while sleep evaded him. Soon he found himself ignoring the TV and daydreaming about that appointment and being able to spend three or four nights a week in Atlanta.

But first he had a task to perform, and it puzzled him when he thought about how he was going to accomplish it, and how he was going to get away with it. In the past he had always been able to find some kind of loophole in cases he took under advisement, something that would lend some credibility to the decision he rendered, but this dang case had him stumped. He decided to go into his office and review the file one more time.

What he had to do was figure out some way to discredit all the evidence the homeowner’s attorney had presented on the part of the Plaintiff, and right now that appeared to be an impossible task. Heck, they had pictures in living color of cracked foundations, faulty wiring and a host of other displays of shoddy construction.

He poured over the photos and the statements and wished he was a magician instead of a judge.

The worst part was that once he reached a decision he had to put it in writing and have it presented to the attorneys of both parties, and somehow it had to be credible, or he could get his behind in a sling.

It was well past midnight, and during the third time of carefully reviewing the case file, when it hit him, when the revelation came to him of how he could rule in favor of the defendant!

As usual, it turned out to be a simple thing. It wasn’t Rawlston Developments that did the shoddy work, it was the subcontractors he was forced to hire due to economic conditions!

It was the fault of the government, state and federal, for allowing illegal immigrants to flood the labor market with unqualified workers, leaving Rawlston Developments as the actual victim because they were forced to use them in order to stay in business. Government was the actual culprit, and he would recommend the Plaintiffs re-file their case against state and federal authorities.

If he could have high-fived himself, he would have. But at this point in the night he knew that he really needed to grab a few hours of sleep, so he eased into the bedroom and quietly stripped down to his boxer shorts, but when he lay down he realized he was wound up tighter than a two-dollar clock.

Velma was snoring softly as he eased over to her side of the bed and stole one of her pills. Then he returned to his office and washed it down with a big slug of vodka. When he laid back down, he remembered thinking the pill might not work, but the pill worked its magic immediately, and the next thing he heard was early the next morning when Velma was saying, “I’m fixin’ to make us some coffee.”