The Pickle Jar

Mickey's Plea (Part 2 of 2)

Mickey did not like her new seat at the front of the courtroom. From where she had watched the previous plea hearing, she could see the entire room. From her new seat, she could only see her attorney, the bailiff, and the judge. Mickey's parents were far behind her, at the back of the room, out of sight without awkwardly craning her neck—and unable to help her.

Mickey looked at Julie. She was reviewing legal documents. She looked smart and confident. Of course, there was no way she was leaving here in chains. She looked at Sergeant Russ. She was standing at attention, her face blank, but when their eyes met, the bailiff allowed herself a brief smile. Mickey wasn't sure what that meant, so she hastily looked away, right up at Judge Steel. The woman was impassive, also reviewing legal documents. There eyes locked, and Judge Steel chose that exact moment to speak. "Next up, we have the State versus Mickey Pickle. Ms. Pickle, please rise."

"Yes, uh, Your Honor." Mickey stood, accidentally bumping the table in front of her and toppling a small glass of water in front of it. Reflexively, Mickey moved to clean up her mess.

Julie waved her off. "I've got this, Mickey. Focus on Judge Steel," the attorney admonished her client, while protecting her papers from the spilled water.

Judge Steel sighed. "Ms. Pickle, you are accused of driving while intoxicated, as well as the destruction of public property in an amount greater than five hundred dollars. I saw you sitting in the back of my court room during the previous hearing, and you have an excellent lawyer representing you, so I am sure you know what that means, correct?"

"Yes, Your Honor. It means this is a felony offense."

"That's right, Ms. Pickle. Is this your first felony offense?"

"It is, Your Honor, it's my first offense of any sort."

Judge Steel grinned slightly. "Have you had a chance to discuss your plea with Ms. Justice?"

"I have, Your Honor."

"And how do you plead, Ms. Pickle?"

Mickey looked to her left, made eye contact with Julie, who smiled and nodded. Mickey returned her full attention to Judge Steel. "I plead guilty, Your Honor. I'm very sorry" Mickey could feel the heat in her cheeks as she admitted guilt, but she knew to do otherwise would have been foolish.

"I see. Ms. Pickle, my documents indicate you are a student. Is that correct?"

"Yes, Your Honor. I am studying psychology and neuroscience at Lake City College."

"Are you taking classes this summer?"

"No, Your Honor. I have an internship with a family friend, Dr. Sparks. She's a neurologist, but that's all on hold for now."

"I've heard of Dr. Sparks. Leah, right?"

"Yes, Your Honor. Dr. Leah Sparks, that's her."

"Well, Ms. Pickle, I regret that you are going to have to leave your internship on hold for the remainder of the summer."

"Because I'm going to be so busy with community service?" Mickey asked hopefully.

"Young lady, you will indeed be busy with community service, of a sort, for the rest of this summer, and then some. Mickey Pickle, you are guilty of driving while intoxicated and the destruction of public property in an amount greater than five hundred dollars. I remand you to the Lake City Detention Center for a period of one year. The community service you seem so keen to perform will be done as the newest member of Lake City's chain gang."

Julie Justice sprang into action. "Your Honor, I object. In light of my client's clean record and her enrollment in college, I request that you please reconsider this sentence. Surely some combination of community service and house arrest..."

"Ms. Justice, you're not from Lake City originally, are you?"

"No, Your Honor."

"Well, allow me to share a bit of history with you. The statue destroyed by your client's reckless, criminal behavior was a tribute to Steven Steel. Do you have any idea who he was?"

"Your Honor, I believe he was one of the town founders, but what does that have to do with..."

"Steven Steel was indeed one of the founders of Lake City. He was a civil engineer who did the original town planning and laid the groundwork for the economic prosperity Lake City enjoys today. He fought in—and survived—two wars, only to be cut down by a drunk driver. In addition to all of this, he was my great grandfather. The sentence stands. Sergeant Russ, you can take the prisoner away."

Mickey's mouth dropped. "What just happened?" she whispered to no one in particular.

Mickey tensed as the bailiff took her by the arm and led her away from the table where Julie was still seated, head down in defeat.

"Mickey, I need you to remove any shoes, socks, hosiery, belts, watches, or jewelry, and place them in this bag. If you have a purse, you can place it in here as well." Sergeant Russ held a large, clear plastic bag open as she spoke.

Mickey slipped out of her shoes, then tugged at her hose. Barelegged, she deposited those items into the indicated bag. Sniffling and failing to entirely hold back her tears, Mickey also added her earrings, necklace, and smartwatch to the bag.

"These items will be available to you on your release. In the meantime, I actually have some new jewelry for you. I tell the same stupid jokes over and over. Feet six inches apart. Hands in front of you, at your waist."

"Yes ma'am," Mickey wiped the tears from her eyes, then quickly complied.

Mickey watched with some combination of fascination and horror as Sergeant Russ fitted her with a set of restraints identical to those locked onto Keisha a few minutes earlier.

"Alright prisoner, let's get you down to the holding cell. The van will be here for you shortly."

Arm held tight by Sergeant Russ, Mickey shuffled and jingled—exactly as had Keisha—toward the exit at the back of the courtroom. Passing her sobbing parents, she waved sadly. She wasn't able to get her hand much above her waist.