Repercussions

Chapter Six

 

Whoever was in charge of all the court appearances made quick work of whatever pending cases the anthros needed to address. Either that or the mayor and those who remained had exerted enough pressure on the judge to convince her to go ahead and hear theirs.

 

Henry and Sandra Chapman had dressed in the finest clothes they could find, which compared to those seated around them made them look alarmingly like uneducated farmers. Then again, the ones closest to them were the attorneys who were supposed to dress and act as if they were above everyone else in the world. Henry felt his wife’s hand in his, so he gave it a gentle squeeze. They would both need the support today. And however many other days this case took, although Henry had an uneasy feeling in his gut that insisted that the proceedings would be short and to the point, since there was not much support for the giant.

 

The Chapmans had spread word of the disaster as quickly as possible, doing their very best to paint their adopted pride and joy in the best possible colors. Unfortunately, the paper had beaten them to the illustrations, only their view provided a glimpse of the monstrous side of legend, with a stock-illustrated and modified giant on a rampage through the countryside, with anthros underfoot and dangling from its open mouth. An absurd picture, but one that received few, if any, complaints.

 

They began to realize that this may have been the final piece of the plot, anything to condemn the giant and force his removal from the civilized inhabitants of Little Island. The Chapmans were all too aware that the current mayor hated the giant’s presence, so when the young dragon walked in with a smug smile on his face and greeted his fellows with a firm handshake, they weren’t surprised.

 

Court procedure went on as normal, with the judge asking for order and then giving permission for the prosecution to begin its case. That was when the total reality of Michael’s condition hit Henry full force. He shifted uncomfortably where he sat, resisting the urge to stand and voice his disapproval. As it turned out, that didn’t matter.

 

“Excuse me, sir. Would you like to contribute?” The judge peered at him from behind her spectacles. Henry’s tongue glued itself to the roof of his mouth and refused to budge. The common dragon shook her head in disdain and went on. “If you would please refrain from doing that in future, I would appreciate it.” Henry was acutely aware of his wife’s disappointed glance in his direction.

 

Suddenly his tongue worked again, and it barged ahead without any consideration of proper restraint. “This is crap,” he blurted. “Absolute crap.” His eyes widened and he wanted to pull his tongue out from his throat. “I mean...”

 

“I heard exactly what you said and what you meant, Mr. Chapman.” His hands stopped their performance and paid equal attention to the judge. “Of course I know who you are, sir. Now, would you like to try your objection again?”

 

He knew she (whatever her name was, he forgot) was being exceptionally gracious to him, and he also knew he didn’t need to screw it up. “Your Honor, I...uh...Where’s the defendant?”

 

The look he received did not register immediately, but when it did, both he and Sandra felt shivers run up and down their spines. “He is too large to be here,” the judge said matter-of-factly.

 

The procedure passed dully for Henry. The prosecution did not have an argument, but then again, neither did the defense. It was all a matter of philosophy, prejudice, and propaganda on both sides. It did not help that if one was not a lawyer, the one would completely miss the majority of the terms used.

 

Finally the time came for the witnesses, which several believed could sway the opinion of the court. Sandra gulped when the first one to come was a unipeg, still bandaged heavily. She had no way of knowing if the wounds were real or not, but, she reminded herself, she had no way of testing them. She was merely an audience member.

 

The lawyer for the prosecution, a Mr. Charles Ransom, smiled at the witness before beginning. “State your name for the court.”

 

“Jackie Smith,” she replied. She then swore to tell nothing but the truth, or whatever it was she had to say.

 

Ransom stood a small distance from the witness stand (Henry recognized it as wood scraps salvaged from the giants—even the processing could not hide its past identity) and crossed his arms. Oh, please, thought Henry. Don’t tell me he’s one of those!

 

“Ms. Smith, could you tell the court where you work?”

 

Jackie blinked. “The...the factory, of course.” As if everyone knew which factory she was talking about. “I work in the refinery wing. That’s where we...well...we take the materials and alter them to fit our purposes.” Henry wanted to chuckle at her attempt to not use the word “refine” in her definition.

 

“Thank you, Ms. Smith. Now, I realize you are terribly injured...”

 

“Objection!” Horace Thornton exclaimed. “Swaying through implication.”

 

“Sustained.” The judge (What was her name? The question would soon drive Henry mad.) gave Ransom a sharp glance. “More matter with less compassion, please.”

 

“Yes, Your Honor.” The questions proceeded as expected, the witness not even able to say for certain what had happened. She had relied entirely on what others had told her. (Much of this came to light thanks to Thornton’s common sense questions.)

 

_____

 

Michael sat with Melissa outside the town. She had already been called to witness, but as it turned out, there wasn’t much to say. Ransom had wanted to know about the disaster, then had asked her about the giant himself. What was he like? Did he display any violent tendencies? The obvious answer to that was “no.” But now that she had already fulfilled her duty, there was no reason why she could not return to her friend.

 

It was almost sunset, the vibrant hues of evening beginning their magnificent display. “So let me get this straight. You don’t have any idea what’s going on in there?” the Griffin asked incredulously. “They could be stringing you up and there’s nothing you can do about it!” She knew some of the details, but not all of them. But Michael had not been all that receptive to the events.

 

Michael shrugged. “Well, I can’t deny it happened and that I did cause it,” he said. “If you can come up with something, I’ll be more than happy to listen.” He lay down, much to the displeasure of the policemen watching him. Of course, there was nothing they could do about it, so they had to live with it.

 

His black hair fell into his eyes, so he reached up and pushed it away. “I really need a haircut,” he said. “It’s almost to my shoulders.”

 

“That’s not very long,” Melissa commented. “It’s nice long.”

 

“Yeah, well I don’t like it. Soon as I get the chance, I’m taking a pair of scissors and having at it.”

 

A lopsided frown formed on Melissa’s face. “I don’t like imagining that, Michael,” she admitted. “Or have you forgotten what happens whenever little kids decide to play ‘barber shop’?”

 

“Heh...” Michael gently put the palm of his hand against his anthro friend’s back, not wanting to knock her over. “I think I have more control than those.”

 

Suddenly a loud noise erupted from the town. “What in the world?” The giant lifted his head and both he and the anthro strained their eyes, hoping to see what had caused the commotion. Soon Michael spotted two figures running toward them, two that he recognized as his parents. Officers were hot on their tails, probably ordering them to stop.

 

He jumped up when he saw his parents overtaken by the officers, none of whom looked all that familiar. Or was that Vance? He couldn’t tell for sure. “Hey!” he shouted. The officers at his feet complained but did nothing. Someone had grabbed Sandra and forced her to the ground. Melissa had latched on to the giant when he had sprung, and she did her best to fly up to his chest.

 

“Don’t hurt my parents!” he called out. “Don’t!” He began to run. The startled officers swore and shot at him, but their tiny missiles didn’t do anything to the giant. He slapped at the points of impact as if a bee had stung him and kept going.

 

“Michael! What are you doing?” begged Melissa. She had finally found a perch in his hair—so that was why she liked it long!

 

“I don’t know!” he said. “But I am not going to let them do that!”

 

“But Michael...”

 

“Look. I’m already screwed for the factory. What else can they do to me?” he asked. A rhetorical question.

 

“Michael, this doesn’t make any sense!” Melissa hung on, though, and she didn’t leave him. “You’re acting crazy!”

 

Either Michael didn’t hear her or he didn’t care. Nothing could stop him now, not when the ones he loved most were in danger. “Mom! Dad!” he called out. “Leave them alone!”

 

The little anthros gave him all the room he wanted when he barged into the town. He was much taller than the buildings, so he needed to be careful—no use tearing apart the entire town. It wouldn’t accomplish anything. But the officers, with Vance at their head, stood their ground and even pointed their weapons at him.

 

“No, don’t!” Melissa cried. “That’s not the right way! You don’t want to do that!” Unfortunately, the policemen had a different idea. They shot the giant, causing him to shout in frustration and pain. (Even though one didn’t bother him, ten or more certainly did!)

 

“Let my parents go!” he roared. He saw Theodore in his line of vision, but he didn’t bother with the mayor; he let him continue about his business. Heather drew closer to the Chapmans, clearly not sure whether she needed to guard them or attempt to hold of the insane giant. The Chapmans themselves sat on the ground and stared in shock at the Risso. Neither one could form words. Sandra and Henry grabbed each other’s hand and held tightly. He hadn’t even heard the verdict! Could he possibly want to make it worse, with yet another trial?

 

Michael’s next actions shocked everyone. He swiped his hand into the crowd of anthros and brought Heather Vance with him. The Risso brought her within an inch of his face. “What were you doing with them?!” he demanded through clenched teeth. “How dare you harm them!”

 

Vance winced from the giant’s death-grip. She and Melissa made eye contact, but there was nothing the Griffin could do. “M-Michael! Hear me out!” She struggled to speak, but the pressure against her ribs made the action nearly impossible. Vance squirmed in his fist, but she was essentially paralyzed from the neck down. She surveyed her huge opponent’s face for any sign, any reason for his behavior. There was no excuse for it, she knew, but whatever it was, she needed to tread carefully. He was single-handedly capable of destroying the entire place, and he did not need to be given any grounds to do so. “We didn’t want to hurt them,” she gasped. “Please! Let me go!”

 

“Michael...put her down.” Melissa slowly made her way down the giant’s head, hoping if he could see her he might pay more attention.

 

“Why you...” Michael gritted his teeth and squeezed the electric dragon even harder. Then, before his rage could subside, he swore and threw her to the ground. There was no chance of her recovering, and all who watched knew it. Vance hit the ground with a sickening crack, and one of her associates slowly made his way over to her.

 

Michael snapped. There was no blood, but judging from her unnatural position...He took a step back, then another. The Risso vigorously shook his head, and then he stared in disbelief at the ground. “No...no, I...” He turned away from the scene and ran, crying as he went.

 

_____

 

Andy was already in Ted’s office by the time the mayor arrived. “Well, that could have gone better,” he said dryly.

 

The fluked dragon didn’t bother smiling at the mayor’s attempt at humor. “I agree.” Andy slouched against the wall and looked up. “I hadn’t anticipated a death.”

 

“You saw it, then?”

 

Andy nodded. “How could I have missed it?” He slapped his hand against the wall, fingers pointed toward the window. “You have the best view of the town.” The older member of the town council pushed himself away from his support and stood arm’s length from the wall.

 

“May I opine that I honestly believe we may have made matters worse?” Ted suggested.

 

“In what sense? Michael Chapman has just done a better job of persuading our citizens that giants are monsters than we ever could.” Andy put a thoughtful hand on his chin. “But perhaps I see your point,” he admitted after a minute. “Even though the death of Officer Vance does not bother me nearly as much as it does you...”

 

“Yeah, well she was the only one who could drive our vehicles without crashing them,” retorted Ted. “Now we have to find another.”

 

The sun had almost set completely by now, the outside dusk taking with it all light. The two anthros didn’t turn on the light, however. Neither showed any indication of wanting to move.

 

“What do you think Michael will do?” asked Ted. “You think he’ll follow through with McGan’s suggestion? Brilliant work, by the way.”

 

Andy chuckled. “No problem. Forty percent alcohol and sixty percent subtle persuasion can get you far.”

 

“You think he’ll survive the swim?” Ted asked. “You know what’s in those waters.”

 

The fluked dragon shrugged. “Don’t see why not. He’ll have more trouble with our people than whatever wild animals are swimming in the depths. He’s bigger than we are, don’t forget. I would’ve thought you’d be happy with the ruling.”

 

“No, to be honest I’d rather see him dead, not exiled,” Ted told Andy. His face brightened, and his eyes gleamed. “You don’t think...”

 

“Why not? We’ve done it before.” Andy moved from his position and clapped the mayor on the back. “It’ll come to you. Just do what you think’s best.”

 

“Will do.” Ted took the older dragon’s encouragement in stride and headed out the door. “I’ll be in touch with you later, Andy,” he said. “Just give me some time to come up with something.”

 

“Right,” Andy replied. “Oh, and Ted?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I want my job back.”

 

Ted grinned. “You never lost it.”

 

_____

 

Michael ran as fast as he could away from the anthros. He didn’t have a goal in mind, but he knew he needed to be as far away from them as possible. And not only because the police might do their very best to stop him, but because he now felt that he could no longer remain on Little Island with anyone.

 

Not his parents. Not Melissa.

 

“What’ve I done?” he whispered to himself. The act didn’t steal much of his energy, for which he was thankful. “I...I killed someone!”

 

“Michael! Calm down,” Melissa told him. “You need to slow down and think about what happened.” She did not mean to comfort him; she was just as scared of him as the rest were, but she could not bring herself to abandon the giant.

 

“And do what?!” A tear trickled from Michael’s eye. “I can’t go back there, Melissa. There’s no way in hell! What’ll they do to me?”

 

Ah, so that’s what it boiled down to. “Michael, think about where you’re going!” she pleaded. “Please go back there, Mike. You can calm down; I know you can!”

“No I can’t.” Michael’s voice was dead. The sadness displayed itself so grotesquely that his typically cheerful demeanor had departed. “Just go, Melissa.”

 

That hurt. “Michael...?” She ran a hand through his hair.

 

“Just leave! Whatever happens to me shouldn’t affect you.” He took a deep breath and slowed to a stop, sliding a little in the sand. Before him, shrouded in darkness, was Dragon Isle. A few lights shone from the landmass, the only clues to the location of the Isle. “I’m leaving.”

 

Melissa caught on. “Dragon Isle? But you don’t even know them! They’re all giants, Michael! How do they act?”

 

“I don’t know, but in all honesty I don’t think it matters,” he said. “If I’m here I’m dead!” So the fear was beginning to creep back in, if indeed it had ever left. “I have to go, Melissa, there’s no other option for me.”

 

“I see.” The Griffin perched herself on Michael’s nose, counting on her wings to aid her should he move suddenly. “How are you going to get across?”

 

“McGan mentioned swimming.” He looked across the water again. “It can’t be that far, I can make it.”

 

“Michael. You can’t swim that. You’re not strong enough for one, and the water has to be freezing!” Now she was kneeling, facing the Risso’s eyes. “And the animals!”

 

“Well, what am I supposed to do, find a boat?” he snapped. “Oh, yeah, like there’s one big enough to...” His eyes went out of focus.

 

“What?”

 

“Melissa, what’s that? In the water, see it? It’s not reflecting the light.”

 

Melissa turned and looked for anything that matched Michael’s visual. “No...I don’t think so. Wait.” She giggled. “What are the odds?” she asked, genuinely happy.

 

Michael waded into the water until it was halfway up his shin. Melissa knew she couldn’t ever go this far into the sea. The Risso sloshed around, kicking at the object before finally lifting it up. “Hmm. Plywood, maybe?”

 

Melissa took a risk and flew down to the large edge of the material. “Waterlogged,” she reported. “It made it over here, but I don’t think it’ll do you much good.” She felt the wood with her hands. “How many houses do you think this is?”

 

“Absolutely none,” Michael replied. He played with it a little more and threw it onto the waves. It did not sink, nor did it float. “I’m going to try it.” Melissa grimaced and flew back up to Michael’s head, grabbing a lock of hair.

 

“I’ll be up here if you need me.”

 

“I’ve already said it, you can’t go.”

 

“How would you stop me?” she retorted. “You should at least get someone to look at your hand.”

 

“Huh?” Michael turned his hand palm-up. His hand looked slightly burned, nothing that wouldn’t heal in a few days. “It’ll be fine. Well, if you insist, let’s go.”