Wife-In-Law by Haywood Smith

said, then told me, “Good choice.”
    Then he looked to the protesters. “Do any of you wish to have an attorney present to represent you? Under the law, that is your right. I can delay these proceedings while you acquire representation, if you so desire.”
    Kat stood. “Yer Honor, may we please talk this over among ourselves fer a minute?”
    He waved a hand in dismissal. “Be my guest, as long as you maintain order and respect.”
    “Thank you, Yer Honor.” Kat turned to the demonstrators. “Does anybody have a lawyer they’d like to call? Please raise yer hand if you do.” After subdued discussion they fell silent, and no hands went up. When she was sure everybody had had time to consider, Kat asked, “Does anybody wanta be represented by a public defender? Please raise yer hand if you want a public defender.” That prompted several snorts of derision from her cohorts, but once again, there were no takers.
    “Okay, then,” she said. “Would any of you like to represent yerselves?”
    All of them raised their hands, including Kat.
    She turned to face the judge. “As you kin see, Yer Honor, it’s unanimous. We want to act pro se in this matter.”
    The judge glared at her. “That is your right, little lady.”
    Kat reddened in outrage at his dismissive form of address, but he didn’t seem to notice.
    Forrest whispered in my ear, “The only thing old Ti hates worse than hippies is people who act pro se. Puts a real burden on the judge.”
    The judge went on. “But are you sure you and your … hippie friends,” he said with obvious disapproval, “understand the seriousness of such a decision? Are you competent to make such a choice, little girl?”
    That tore it with Kat. Her accent was wide open when she shot back, “Just because I look like this and talk like this, does not mean I am ignerent, sir, or my friends. This ain’t the first time we’ve been to court fer protestin’ the corrupt Republican administration, and it won’t be the last.”
    Oh, Kat.
    The gavel came down. “Watch your tongue, missy, or I’ll hold you in contempt.”
    The ex-law student jumped up. “We hold you in contempt. This trial is a farce.”
    Reporters scribbled away furiously as the judge aimed his gavel at the offender. “Bailiff, take that man into custody.” He banged his desk, then narrowed his eyes at the shocked protester. “I hereby fine you three thousand dollars and sentence you to thirty days in jail for contempt.” He waved his gavel. “Take him away.”
    Three thousand dollars? Could he do that?
    Kat and her buddies watched in resentful silence as the bailiff carried out the judge’s order.
    Judge Blount smoothed the front of his robe, then said, “Very well. Be it so noted that the protesters in question have chosen to act in their own behalf.”
    After consulting his notes again, he said, “According to these statements, the protesters in the first four rows, here, obstructed Mrs. Betsy Callison’s invited guests from entering her property for a makeover party, despite Mrs. Callison’s repeated peaceful requests that they stop assaulting and obstructing her guests.” No guessing which way the wind blew with him. “Then said protesters trespassed onto Mrs. Callison’s private property, where they lay down and obstructed access to Mrs. Callison’s home, despite Mrs. Callison’s repeated peaceful requests that they leave.” Reporters scribbled away as he shuffled the notes.
    The judge went on. “When the trespassers refused to go back to the sidewalk, Mrs. Callison announced that they were eligible for free makeovers, along with her other guests.” A low buzz among the onlookers elicited no rebuke from the bench. The judge just raised his voice. “Mrs. Callison then made it clear that by remaining on her property, the protesters were agreeing to participate in the makeovers, which included a shave and a haircut.”
    Chuckles erupted from the gallery, but the judge didn’t seem to