SUMMERY JUDGEMENT-PART TWO
Here is the concluding part of Summery Judgement. Welcome to a twisted vision of the near future where the men ride horses and motorists pack the cells.
“I was driving carefully, I know the rules, there was nothing I could do,” pleaded the driver pre-emptively.
At this a diminutive lady burst from the masses, fell to her knees and introduced herself as Bernadette. “I was the first on the scene,” she lied, as somewhere in the distance a screaming siren heralded a vehicle approaching at speed. “This so-called man has blood on his hands today officer. It was like he deliberately wanted to take a life such was his wild driving style. Rarely have I seen such disregard for human life.”
For the first time the sergeant seemed unconvinced and, realising this, Bernadette stood to her full height taking the sergeant by the hand. The crowd fell silent as she lead him to the back of the car. I followed as best I could so that I would be on hand in case anybody became interested in establishing the truth.
Over the heads that bobbed and snarled an ambulance could now be seen. It was approaching at moderate speed, flanked by an unofficial escort of scooters; the little Vespas and Piaggios were racing the ambulance down the empty avenue, weaving this way and that, ignoring traffic lights with a vengeance. In addition, one or two young men on horseback were keeping pace admirably, their fine galloping stallions more than a match for the scooters.
In the meantime Bernadette had removed her enormous black hat and was pointing at the rear of the car, staring at the sergeant. He did not immediately understand. Bernadette shook with frustration, as though willing him to notice the exhaust pipes. She composed herself, and then in a voice designed to reach even those at the back said, “Officer, dear sir, see…it runs on petrol…”
The pressure was immense as the onlookers fought to witness this latest twist.
By now Bernadette was once more on her knees crying into her hands. “What about the children!” she moaned, “The little baby children. Oh sweet baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph. For the love of all that is good, for the sake of humanity protect us, protect us all from this evil.”
The sergeant, clearly moved (as was the crowd which now stood silent) signalled for the paramedic who had arrived moments earlier. The crowd, swollen by dozens of scooter riders and horsemen, looked on as the sergeant ordered the paramedic to apply oxygen to Bernadette.
Gradually, poor Bernadette’s suffering was eased. She clasped the oxygen mask tightly to her face, still pleading for the sake of the children. Once she was in a satisfactory condition, the sergeant knelt beside her. In order to reassure her that he understood, he placed his cheek against hers. People in the crowd embraced, assuming that the sergeant had finally grasped the implications of what had occurred today; that he understood the full weight of the driver’s crime.
After some moments the sergeant removed the mask so he could hold Bernadette’s face. Then he nodded, to say, “I understand your pain, I feel it too. For all that is good, for the good of our children, and for the good of their children’s children, for the good of all the children of the world, I will do the right thing. I will right this wrong.”
Somewhere above a bird sang, and the sergeant’s face darkened. “Now my dear Bernadette, if you will excuse me, this I must to do personally,” he said, looking across at the girl sobbing in Bessie’s protective grip.
With his colleague at his elbow the sergeant surged towards the front of the car where the driver still stood, trembling. At his signal, the younger officer clamped the driver in his heavy handcuffs. Then, in accordance with standard practice he drew his knife and lead the driver to his horse where he shackled him to the thick leather strapping across its rear haunches.
Avoiding the dung, that now seemed to be everywhere, the sergeant approached the driver with a solemn, even morbid, look in his eyes. “I do this for the sake of humanity, so that we might all have a world to share, to marvel at, for all eternity. You will be taken to the cells where your punishment will be administered. And I warn you to expect no mercy.”
This proclamation was despatched in a way that was almost boastful. And the crowd loved it. The thought of the driver’s suffering sated their bloodlust because, however brutal, there had to be justice.
Each officer mounted his horse and, as the people parted to let them through, the driver, who had long since abandoned his earlier protests of innocence, ran behind to avoid being dragged by his chains.
By now the sun was a little lower in the bright blue sky. Some people shuffled off, ready to recount all they had witnessed to their families and friends. I noticed the victim stir, pushing the paramedic away. He shook and rubbed his head and then stood up on the spot where he had passed out some time earlier. Nancy had broken loose in the ensuing celebration and was nowhere to be seen. In the circumstances I decided against offering any further argument. As I made my way back to my office I refused to watch as what remained of the crowd, lead by the tall gentleman, started dismantling the abandoned car.
