Judge Muffett had dismissed the group from the court session then, refusing to allow them to remain, even when Mr. Wessen requested it. “Honestly, you people sicken me,” the judge said. “Be gone.”
The gasps in the courtroom were many, but no one spoke or attempted to disagree. I’d been told earlier by several individuals that Judge Muffett was well known for his thoughtful deliberations and for rendering fair judgements. He was also the highest authority in our circuit, and villagers like us were honored that he would offer his services for the kind of trivial cases found in a tiny village such as ours. After Judge Muffett heard a case and stated his decision, there could be no do-overs or additions to add later. When his judgement was rendered, the case was closed, and the decision was final.
I’d been glad to hear such things about him, but he was still an unknown. The big test was about to come. Could he understand that Frey was my best friend and the only family I had? Would he mock such thoughts and discard them as foolishness? He had been kind to me so far. I could only hope that he would be equally as empathetic when he made his judgement about Frey. I couldn’t even think about losing my stallion. Surely the fates would not be so cruel.
It was Mr. Barner’s turn, then, to state his case. Apparently, he’d been sipping his flask during the preceding case, and when he sauntered up to the judge’s bench, he looked a bit unsteady. His speech sounded slurred when he stated his name, and his opening statement was a ramble that lacked coherency.
Judge Muffet did not once interrupt Mr. Barner’s speech as the man explained why the horse now living at my shack belonged to him. The judge was giving the man an unbelievable amount of attention, despite the basic illogic of the premise and the fact that Mr. Barner’s presentation often lapsed and spun in directions that included tangents no one else could follow. The judge glanced over at me now and then, but still sat perfectly still, his hands steepled like a mountain peak.
Finally, Mr. Barner seemed to slow down, pausing to issue a series of hiccups, stops and starts. “That’s her fault, you know, Judge. That girl stares at you, and you get confused. She thinks she can manage a stallion. But no girl should be riding a stallion.”
The man turned to swagger back to his seat, but the turn proved more difficult than he’d expected, and for a moment he looked like he might topple over. At the last second, he straightened himself up and started to go forward again, only to twirl about and stop again, like a top whose spin had slowed to the point of collapse.
“Are you finished, Mr. Barner?” the judge asked.