Doctor, Darling

Dan cleared his throat. Not a good sign. “The law is real,” he said. “It’s over 125 years old, but it’s on the books. But that’s not the worst of it.”

Conner closed his eyes. “What?”

“They can give you jail time for this.”

“What?”

“Hold on. They can give you jail time, but they don’t have to. I can’t believe they will. I’m sure all you’ll get is a slap on the wrist and a hefty fine.”

“You’re joking, right? They can’t really do this. Not for saying dammit to hell. I hear that on television all the time. It doesn’t make sense.”

“That’s true. But it doesn’t have to make sense. It’s their town, and their laws.”

“Can’t we fight it?”

“Yes. We sure can. And we will. But for today, just be polite, act contrite, plead guilty and pay the fine. We’ll deal with the rest when you get home.”

Conner wanted to argue further, but what was the point? They had him, and there was nothing he could do about it. “Thanks, Dan.”

“Call me when you get home.”

Conner hung up, and Tracy walked him to the courthouse, which happened to be upstairs.

It didn’t surprise him to find every seat filled in the large room. Some folks even stood in the back. This was the weirdest place he’d ever been. The woman behind the bench didn’t give him anything. Not a smile, not a scowl. She was older although he couldn’t even guess her age. Reddish-blond hair, cut pretty short. A black judge’s robe.

He looked around as he was led to the front of the room. The crowd acted as if they’d never seen anyone like him before. As if he’d come from another planet. Or maybe they were so fascinated because they knew what was coming. He thought about the story, “The Lottery,” and he had a sudden image of himself being stoned to death. Nah, they wouldn’t. Would they?

He sat down, and the judge banged her gavel. The room grew instantly still.

“Conner Malloy, would you please approach the bench?” she said. No preamble at all.

He stood up again, and Tracy led him to his place in front of the judge. Her name was Elizabeth Larson. Up close, she looked pretty tough.

“Dr. Malloy, you’ve been charged with using foul language in front of women and children. How do you plead?”

“Guilty, Your Honor.”

“I see,” she said. “Cursing is an offense we take seriously here, make no mistake about that, especially when there are children involved.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” he said, trying to keep cool. Trying to remember that Dan would fix this soon enough.

“So seriously, in fact, that I usually give jail time to first offenders.”

Conner felt a chill run up his back. The crowd murmured. Tracy took a step back, distancing himself from the bench and the accused.

“However,” she said slowly, and the word sort of hung in the air, “there is a lesser sentence I can offer you.”

The murmur behind him got louder, and Conner heard someone laugh. The judge banged her gavel loudly three times, but Conner figured it was the look she gave the townfolk that really quieted them down.

“I’m prepared to give you community service instead of a fine and a jail sentence,” she said.

Community service? He’d have to stay here? In this town? With these crackpots? Dick Tracy, for heaven’s sake. People lurking in doorways. Maybe jail wouldn’t be so bad.

“The decision is yours to make,” the judge said. Then she reached for some papers on her desk. Turned a page over. Then another.

The tension in the room grew perceptibly. Conner felt beads of sweat break out on his brow. He urged her to say it. To end the suspense.

She looked at him again, and her right brow rose as she leaned forward. “You can go to jail, or you can escort a very nice young lady by the name of Gillian Bates to a dinner dance a week from Friday.”

Chapter Three

Conner laughed. It was a joke. A big old practical joke, maybe for one of those silly television shows. He waited for the judge to smile, for the gallery to join in with applause. But his was the only voice. He turned to the crowd, and his laughter died. They were all staring at him, anticipation and excitement making them lean forward, making their eyes wide and a little frightening.

He turned back to the bench. “I’m sorry. I thought you said—”

“I’ll repeat it for you. Instead of jail and a fine, you may escort Gillian Bates to a dinner dance.”

He stared at the woman as he grappled with what he was hearing. He was being sentenced to a date? Impossible. Completely ridiculous. Quite possibly illegal. But it couldn’t be serious. “No,” he said, taking a step toward the judge. “Really, what are my options?”

The judge looked at him soberly. “There are some conditions to the community service,” she said as if this performance was as real as rain. “You’ll need to ask her out at least once before the dance. And you must let her think it’s all your own idea. If she discovers it’s part of your sentence, it’s an automatic jail term. If you don’t succeed in escorting her to the dance, it’s an automatic jail term. And finally, you must leave her kindly and you must wait at least twenty-four hours after the dance has ended.”

“You can’t do that,” he said. “You can’t force me to date someone.”

“Oh, but I can, sir. I can, and I am.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” the judge interrupted sternly. “Make your decision, Dr. Malloy. Jail or a dinner dance with a very nice girl.”

He knew he was awake. This didn’t feel like any dream he’d ever had. “Your Honor, I’m an attending physician at Texas Children’s Hospital in Houston, and I—”

“And you’re on vacation.”

Damn. How could she know that? “Yes, but I have other obligations and—”

“And you’ll have to find another way to meet those obligations. You’ve brought this on yourself.”

“But all I did was—”

“All you did was act crudely and in a vulgar manner in front of very vulnerable ears, Dr. Malloy.”

He glanced behind him once more and was met with eager grins. The woman from the bakery. The woman from the first doorway. Even the sheriff. They were all smiling, urging him silently to do it. To say yes. What he couldn’t understand was why? Why him. Why a date? What the hell was going on?

“Dr. Malloy?”

He turned back. The simplest thing to do was agree, then let Dan fix it. Let Dan expose this insane town with its insane judge. “All right, Your Honor,” he said softly. “I’ll do the community service.”

Now came the applause. The whole room burst with it. Even the judge smiled. Everyone seemed as pleased as punch. But he planned on taking each of them to court. To a real court. Not here in Wacko Land.