The rotund attorney from the Public Defender’s Office was named Owen.   Owen had been warned in advance, that this client might be difficult… particularly for him.   Having spent almost 12 years opposing the ADA’s in Judge Benton’s courtroom, Owen had developed a reputation for being poorly prepared, generally uninformed, and frequently trying to fake it.  He was also well-known for his never-ending repertoire of common clichés.   Judge Benton’s court reporter and one of the guards have maintained a running bet to see who can guess the number of clichés that Owen will use during each of his court appearances.  

In this particular case, an enormous Black man named Andrew was being held on an assault charge.  Once a local football hero in high school, Andrew had long since developed a few anti-social tendencies after completing only one year of college and working for the local postal service.   He was now charged with beating up a man on his route who allegedly used a racial slur.  The confrontation occurred when Andrew tried to obtain the man's signature on a certified letter from the mortgage company.  It appeared that the home-owner knew that foreclosure was imminent, he didn’t want the letter, and he tried to take it out on Andrew.  Andrew, inwardly blaming everyone else in the world for his own failures…. had knocked him out.

Owen’s sole pre-trial interview with Andrew went something like this.

“Well Andrew, I’ve read your statement, and time and time again, I have always found that there is a whole other story aside from what’s written in the record.  Now let’s set the record straight and why don’t you tell me the real deal” Owen spoke with exaggerated, pompous authority as he eased his bulk into a chair opposite Andrew. 

“The man had no right to speak to me that way” Andrew began.  “I was showing him where to sign the form, when he looked up at me and sneered, “Are you sure boy?  If you’re delivering mail now that means you can’t read too good.”

“Now now” Owen interrupted.  “I’m sure there is no love lost between you and the plaintiff here, but were those his exact words?”

“That is exactly what he said.  And then when I told him that I wasn’t his ‘boy’… he comes back with, ‘Oh well I know who you are.  You’re that football fella who couldn’t make it at State and now you’re the bum-of-the-month like the rest of us.’ By this point I was truly pissed… but I had it under control. I didn’t say anything.”

Owen rubbed his face in thought, and then squinted his eyes at Andrew as he asked, “And before this, you didn’t know this man from Adam?” 

“Nope,” Andrew said curtly.  “I may have seen him once or twice on the route, but we have never had words.” 

“Needless to say” Owen went on, “something else must have happened even after you tried to let sleeping dogs lie?”

Andrew was now looking at him a bit strangely, but he continued as expected. “He called me a spade.”

“He did what son?  Speak up now… make my day.   What did he call you?” Owen’s chair squealed loudly on the hard floor as he leaned forward to hear Andrew more clearly.

Andrew flinched.  He looked at him for an extra moment, wondering if the fat lawyer realized that he had just committed the same offense as the home-owner.   Then he continued, “When I didn’t say anything, he gave me this silly grin and said, ‘Don’t blame me for your troubles.  I believe in callin’ a spade-a-spade.’   That’s when I decked him.”

Owen blustered and flounced and asked a few more, mostly unnecessary questions before deciding that this pre-trial interview was over.   Now he stood and began pontificating as if he was rehearsing his closing argument already. 

“I am sorry to have to put you through such intensive questioning Andrew my boy, but without a shadow of a doubt, you can bet your bottom dollar that the prosecution is going to try to hit you with everything but the kitchen sink.  And it goes without saying that the devil is in the details.” Owen was now pacing back and forth and gesturing with his hands as he spoke, feeling very self-important.   “So I must leave no stone unturned in my search for the truth.”          

Andrew was beginning to get a little nervous as he watched this performance. Now he asked, “Have you ever handled a case like this before?   I’m not trying to deny the fact that I hit him…. I just think he had it coming.”

Interrupted and momentarily annoyed at having lost his forum, Owen waved his hands and shook his head at Andrew.   “Let that be the last time you say something like that to anyone.  As big and physical as you people are… there is no way you can justify striking that foolish little man in this day and age.  Let’s cut to the chase.  I am going to have to tie this whole thing up as neat as a pin … prove that you were provoked like there’s no tomorrow …  and that you struck out while you were temporarily insane!”

Andrew blinked at him.  “An insanity plea!!!   Are you crazy?  It was a punch. He was only out for a little while… the man is fine.  I am not going to plead insanity!”

Owen tried to regroup, “But Andrew…”

Andrew cut him off, “But Andrew nothing… I’m beginning to think that there is a village somewhere that’s missing an idiot.”

Owen huffed in turn, “Well if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black.”

He never saw the punch that knocked him out.