Things Done

Why was I here? Mrs. Carter dragged me down to the courthouse without my parental consent form. I, being a rational law-abiding citizen, advised her that the consequences of kidnapping me, a minor, could be dire—especially if I chose to press charges. Which I considered.

Mrs. Carter, to my chagrin, had replied that she knew my moods were all a front, some strange ploy to get the attention of my classmates. As if I weren’t already the strangest geek in the entire school. She told me that she had phoned my parents and informed them of the excursion; she even mentioned how they appeared to know nothing about it and, to my horror, were all for it. Stupid gung-ho sentimentality. Because of spirited parents and a stubborn teacher, I had to accompany the class on a field trip I had no intention of enjoying. I had no interest whatsoever in the case. Okay, well maybe a little.

By this time, the question on everyone’s mind concerned the verdict. Would it return with a definite sentence? Would it only prolong things further? Not even the most patient of us could stand the suspense. This hearing, though, was supposed to be the very last because the state revealed that the prosecution had finally found incriminating, decisive evidence. That was the only reason I was interested in the case, but so far the hearing only recapped previously contested information. The judge looked irritated, the crowd was jittery, and the defense seemed confused. The prosecutor maintained his smug smile. He obviously had something under his sleeve and for some reason wanted it to remain there. The court adjourned, and Mrs. Carter led us out through the double doors for the brief recess.

“So what do you guys think of it so far?” she grinned, excited. It wasn’t often that the school approved a field trip of this sort. I knew she had been trying for a while to get the clearance to visit court cases but had always been met with failure. She wasn’t the only one excited, but she was probably the only one with a legitimate cause.

“I think he’s hot,” said Ashe Britt. Her blue eyes sparkled as she gazed dreamily into space.

“Especially in that delectable black suit.”

“I second that,” added her friend Hayden Brandt. They had been best friends ever since the start of the semester because their names put them next to each other on the seating chart. They were similar in many annoying ways.

“Anything else?” Mrs. Carter deadpanned, her mood slightly worsened by their superficiality.

“It’s not just because he’s hot, you know,” insisted Ashe, whose real name was Ashley. “He’s really smart. It takes real brains to do all of that.” Our teacher’s grin returned.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” she warned, smiling warmly. “He hasn’t been officially blamed for all of that.

“But he did it, didn’t he?” asked Denis Moore. “We’re all pretty sure of that. He’s the only person who could have done it.

“But are you certain of that? Can you honestly say that you were there when it happened?” Gavin Taylor interjected thoughtfully. Mrs. Carter’s smile widened. The class was much larger than just five, but they were the only people to contribute to the conversation. Mrs. Carter turned to me, expecting my input. This was definitely because of how opposed I had been to the trip in the first place.

“Yes, I guess it’s interesting,” I said, answering the unspoken question in her eyes rather than adding to the discussion. I wasn’t quite ready to say anything. I didn’t want her thinking I was grateful to her. She forced me to attend, after all.

“What do you think the new evidence is?” she asked us as if she couldn’t contain her buoyant spirits.

“Probably a DNA sample,” Hayden mused, “something like a piece of hair or spit or something found at the crime scene.”

“I think they’ll find his alibi doesn’t match up,” Denis suggested confidently.

“Whatever it is, we can be sure of one thing only,” Ashe said, laughing. “It definitely won’t be a recording or something of him admitting to the crime. After a month of this legal chase, he can’t be taken down by such a simple, dimwitted thing.” We returned to the courtroom as the break ended.



“…I am Edgar Edgarton and yes, I approve of this message,” the CD player finished. The entire audience stared in shock at how ridiculous it all was. Some of my classmates glared accusingly at Ashe, as if it were her fault that Edgarton was finally defeated. The judge had a surprised look on her face, but she quickly regained control of the situation.

“Do you contest this evidence?” she asked the defendant’s lawyer. He shook his head glumly, still somewhat frozen with shock. She made sure to glare suspiciously at the smug prosecutor before turning to the crowd. “Does anyone contest this evidence? This is against protocol, but in such circumstances I find it would be beneficial to make sure of things.” I had an urge to raise my hand just for the heck of it, but I resisted.

“Your Honor, if I may speak—” the prosecutor began.

“You may not,” she interrupted. He went on anyway.

“Your Honor, I believe your request goes against the due process clause of the Fifth Amendment. All citizens are entitled to standard proceedings of the law, and your announcement is in direct violation of this.” He is up so high on Cloud Nine that he doesn’t even see the evil eye she directs toward him. It’s easy to see that she is not pleased with his conduct, either.

“As I said,” she again declares, “if anyone, and I mean anyone has any information that contrasts with this alarming evidence, please speak now and be heard. Can you think of any ways this evidence would not be incriminating?” She looked directly at the prosecutor while saying this.

“B-but Your Honor,” he spluttered as if he couldn’t get his words out fast enough. “That goes against all precedents. Your primary goal as mediator is to punish those who do wrong!”

“No, my primary goal is to judge fairly in all aspects of every case. I can hardly do my job properly when I have to deal with impertinent people such as yourself. How dare you come into my courtroom and try to convince me that a cunning man would make this sort of silly mistake? Just the knowledge that you have been pursuing this case for weeks gives your evidence a slightly spurious air, and I am certain that you are aware you must prove his guilt beyond reasonable doubt.”

“Your Honor, I swear to you that this evidence has not been fabricated. In fact, I-I-I call up Mr. Edgar Edgarton to the stand for testimony!” A disappointed sigh spread through the room. Everyone was thinking the same thing: the evidence was fake. The defendant was protected from self-incrimination by the Fifth Amendment, so he didn’t have to say anything about whether it was true or not.

“Mr. Edgarton, you do not have to comply if you do not wish to,” the judge told him tiredly. She rubbed at her temples. No one had expected this whammy to be dropped so late in the game.

“No, I would like to,” he said pleasantly. Ashe sighed beside me.

“Even his voice is dreamy,” she murmured. “What a total dreamboat!” He walked up to the stand to prepare for questioning. Even the prosecutor looked taken aback for a moment, but he quickly cleared his throat and prepared himself.

“Do you solemnly swear that the testimony you are about to give is the whole truth, without omission?”

“I do.”

“Then do you, Mr. Edgarton, give your assent to the evidence we have just heard?” The prosecutor looked like he wanted to rub his hands together in anticipation and laugh evilly. Everyone else leaned forward with bated breath. If he was going to plead the Fifth, we thought, he needn’t have gone to the trouble of taking the stand. Was the criminal finally going to reveal his cunning ways?

“I do,” he said simply. There was an audible WHACK! as we all sat back in our chairs. The impact with the wood left my back smarting, but I, along with my companions, was too dumbfounded to notice. The judge was startled again, this time for a much longer period. The foreman of the jury seemed just as surprised. By this time, the other members had started paying attention. The defendant turned an expectant gaze to the judge.

“We will now adjourn for the final decision of the jury,” she said slowly, still in disbelief. “Remember to act justly in your verdict.” The court then went to break. It was no surprise that they returned in less than an hour with the unanimous verdict: guilty. Edgar Edgarton was officially going to jail. He qualified for death row.

As everyone stood up to leave and the bailiff prepared Edgarton for the return to his cell, the criminal dropped another bomb on us. “Your Honor,” he said calmly, addressing the judge. She was leaning forward and rubbing her temples. She must have had a headache, and she tiredly glanced in his direction. “I would like to propose a firing squad for my execution.”

Though the case was over, no one had really left, so the entire audience was still present for this statement. There was a loud gasp as everyone comprehended his words, but the judge herself just appeared more exhausted. She was young, but the results of this case seemed to give her thirty more years. The defendant’s lawyer, who had obviously been dreading the hassle of an appeal, looked slightly relieved. The bailiff remained stony-faced, and the prosecutor kept his smug smile.

“That will be taken into consideration,” the judge replied softly, still rubbing her forehead. Edgarton shot her a winning smile and left the room.

“Well that was unexpected,” Mrs. Carter said on the bus back to school. She still looked stunned.

“I can’t believe it,” Hayden agreed. “He was doing so well.”

“Well, it was kind of—”

“I simply have to see him one last time, Mrs. Carter,” Ashe said in a rush, interrupting Denis. “I can’t just see pictures on the news after the…penalty. I want to see him alive again.”

“Yeah, Mrs. Carter. He might be able to get his way out of this one, too, and I want to be there for that,” Gavin added, hopeful.

“Get you in to see a death penalty? I don’t know,” our teacher said worriedly. “This was an experience to show you due process in action. How would I get the principal to agree to let us watch an execution? How is that educational? And your parents! They aren’t likely to want their children to see such a thing. It’s one thing to watch a court case, and quite another to watch a punishment. And then there’s the authorization to consider! Who would authorize a class of eighteen minors and a teacher to attend an execution? That’s sick! That’s…That’s…And then there’s—”

She was interrupted by someone who started chanting, “Ed-gar-ton! Ed-gar-ton!” It soon caught on amongst my classmates until almost the entire bus was going along with it. For the rest of the ride to school Mrs. Carter looked distressed, the bus driver looked annoyed, and I looked out of my window, bored. What a fun field trip this turned out to be.

Three weeks later, I found myself in the same situation. Somehow everything had turned out alright and we were all once again excused from school to watch Edgar Edgarton. At the moment we were still waiting; he hadn’t been led out yet.

“Oh, this is so nerve-wracking and tragic! My future husband dead so soon! At least he’s wearing his favorite suit,” Ashe wailed, careful to keep her voice down. I rolled my eyes.

“Your future husband?” Hayden repeated automatically. She quickly changed the subject upon seeing Ashe get ready to start a fight. “Anyway, it’s so cool that the person in charge of this thing let us come!”

“Yes, I suppose,” Ashe demurred, obviously still lingering on her whole ‘husband’ spiel. “If they hadn’t I would have had to skip school to watch.”

“This isn’t open to the public, though,” Hayden pointed out. “Do you see anyone else here? Mrs. Carter had to pull some major strings to get us in.”

“I would have found a way,” her friend confidently replied. “Love knows no bounds.”

While they argued, the rest of the class waited patiently. We recognized this as a privilege. The case had been exciting, but it wasn’t anything special. It was recorded on video, audio, and paper, via stenographer. We could have just watched it on YouTube. This time, though, we were going to see something only a few eyes would ever witness since executions were not the kind of things that get recorded. This was, for all intents and purposes, a complete secret to the rest of the world. I tuned back into what was happening, silently chastising myself for getting excited. Mrs. Carter had dragged me to this one, too. I once again conveniently forgot to let my parents know, and so I was here illegally for the second time in a row.

“Oh, shh! He’s coming!” Hayden said, interrupting whatever Ashe had been saying. She covered Ashe’s mouth with her hand when she found her friend didn’t get the hint. We all turned to watch a new warden lead in the prisoner, who looked just as calm as he had been at his last court case. Hayden and Ashe whispered to each other, giggling quietly. The lewdness of this act was not lost on me, or the prisoner, in fact, for he glanced up to see where the sound came from.

To my surprise, Edgarton smiled at the sight of us. I think he actually remembered us. He made eye contact with each of us in turn, making it seem as if the smile was to reassure us and express genuine happiness that we were there. When he got to Hayden and Ashe, their giggles got louder and worse. Their embarrassment put no damper on their outrageous behavior. When he got to me, the end of the line, his expression changed. For a second he lost his grin and raised his eyebrows in surprise, a break in his calm demeanor. His face almost immediately regained its cool assurance, but I don’t think that I was the only one to notice the slip.

While most of my classmates, namely the two girls next to me, were too preoccupied with the excitement of making eye contact, my teacher at least made it known to me that she had been paying attention. She immediately moved to sit on my other side, at the end of the long bench, and gave me a curious look.

“Do you know what that meant?” she asked, concerned. It was a slightly odd reaction from a dangerous criminal, though he wouldn’t be a problem for much longer.

“Nope,” I shrugged. He probably hadn’t noticed my presence before. I’m commonly passed over for the more interesting and eye-catching people like Hayden and Ashe, who I always seemed to be seated next to.

“It is such a shame that this had to happen to my future husband,” Ashe continued, sighing. “He’s only seventeen, you know. He’s still a minor.”

“Actually, he’s eighteen,” Hayden corrected her. “His birthday was two weeks ago, so he’s officially an adult.” Ashe glared at her. Apparently it wasn’t cool that Hayden knew more about Edgarton than she did.

“Well,” she began in rebuke, but was interrupted by the clicks of several guns. Our eyes were instantly drawn to it.

There were five people spread out to face Edgarton. They had carefully aimed their weapons at the target and were waiting for the signal. Edgarton himself kept his lax expression, but he looked so vulnerable standing there in front of so many guns. It seemed an extra cruelty on the part of the warden to have kept his hands behind his back, restrained by handcuffs.

“Three…two…one…fire!” came the signal, and there was a thundering sound as each participant fired one shot. To increase the anonymity of the killing shot, every gun discharged a puff of smoke. At the same time, the spot where the criminal had been standing erupted in flame. It was only for a second or so, but the spontaneous explosion stunned everyone. We anxiously waited for all the smoke to clear. I looked around at my classmates’ faces and was a little surprised to find some wet with tears.

“Is that supposed to happen?” Gavin asked quietly.

“He just burst into fire,” Denis mumbled, puzzled. “That’s not normal. How did that happen? That is so not normal.”

“My husband,” Ashe sobbed. Hayden, frozen in shock, said nothing. Mrs. Carter did the same next to me.

I don’t believe that I was the most surprised out of all of them, but I do think that I had cause to be the most perplexed. I was uncertain as to whether we had all seen the same thing or not, but I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. It only worsened at certain conversations on the bus ride back. It was remarkably less rowdy than the one before.

“I am so glad that this is the last period of the day,” Ashe said blankly, staring at nothing. Her tears had long since dried out. “I don’t think I would be able to sit through math or something in this state.”

“Did you see his face?” Hayden asked quietly. “At the end, I mean. Did you happen to see his face before it happened? I didn’t; I couldn’t.”

“Me neither,” responded a sullen Ashe. “His last moment, and I couldn’t even look at him!” They held each other and started crying again. Similar words were exchanged between the rest of the class.

“I told you guys that it was a bad idea to come,” Mrs. Carter murmured half-heartedly. “I warned you.”

I hardly registered her words. My mind was too preoccupied with what was being said. According to the whispers, no one had looked directly at Edgarton, and that upset me. Had what I seen been true? This was what I brooded over as I stared out the window on the way back to school. My suspicions were soon forgotten, and the next two years passed by uneventfully.