F: The Pledge

The Pledge
by
Dr. Leyrose

He burst through the front door and slammed into the huge porch column.
Then, reeling like a top before it stops spinning, stumbled down the
steps. He finnally came to a stop face down on the grass, yelling and
babbling. It happened so quickly the police officers waiting outside
had little time to react. Although each was poised to fire his weapon,
not one squeezed off a single shot. They stood amazed, frozen in the
sweeping caleidoscope of light. Almost disappointed, they slowly
scooped the man up off the damp ground. Immediately they informed him
of his rights, and escorted him to his "free-of-charge" ride down to
the satation. They knew, however, that once there, the circus really
started. That is when the real work of this case would begin.

During the drive the officers tried every technique they knew, in an
attempt to get close to this man. They talked about everything,
tactfully leading up to the events of the evening. Finally, out of
desperation, they tried the direct approach. With an obviously inflated
tone of authority the driver asked, "Why did you do it Mack? Did you
just get up hating the world today or did the neighbors dog chew up
your newspaper?" The man, who appeared to be in a trance, didn't
respond -- didn't even flinch as they rode. As a matter of fact, both
officers began to think his mind had taken a walk. After a short pause
the junior officer tried his skill. He began, "Youz can act loonie all
youz want. The Cap'n aint gonna buy none of dat crap." Ignoring the
glare from the driver, he continued, "Yea, juss sit dare like youz
don't know nuttin. I aint buyin it, so youz might as well spill your
guts. Youz never know, ya might feel better. At least den we'll know
youz know what you dun. Ay! I'm talkin at youz! Ya got ears, ya know
what I'm sayin. I know ye aint deef. "

The driver, at first irritated by his partners discourse, slowly began
to smirk. Then a full grin possessed his mug. Inside he could hardly
contain himself. If he didn't stop this, he'd have to pull over and
allow the bubbling laughter to escape. Then he got an idea, a really
crazy idea. He looked over at his pardner as he pulled off the main
road and said, "I need to take a break, too much coffee I guess. Maybe
he," gesturing toward the man in the back seat, "needs a break too."
Once well off the road, the car came to a stop by a wooded area. The
driver got out, walked around to the rear passenger door, opened it,
and pulled the man from the car. After helping the man stand up, he
removed the cuffs, explaining that he understood it would make things
easier. Then he told the man, "go on, step out there. We'll be right
here."

The junior officer may have had trouble reading a fifth grade book, but
he was beginning to realize something was amiss. When he started to
exit the vehicle, he felt the driver's hand resting firmly on his
shoulder. Then he heard a low voice beside his ear, "We made a pledge
to protect and to serve the good folks around here. If we take him in,
we're going to waste a lot of tax dollars and he'll probably walk. So I
say we do our job. What about you pardner?" As the officer sat there,
he looked at the man, slightly hunched, standing in the edge of the
woods. In just a few steps, in only seconds, the man could dart into
the darkness of the woods. But both officers knew there was a river not
twenty yards past the trees. At night, a man running at full speed
might accidentally fall into that river. With it's depth, rapid
current, and bone chilling water, a man wouldn't last long. Even if he
were an Olympic swimmer, the odds were stacked against him. As the
young officer sat contemplating the man, the river, and the drivers
words, temptation began to grow. Two, maybe three steps, the man edged
closer to the forrest's blanket of darkness. The clouds, becoming more
dense, began to obscure the weakening light from the heavens. What
should he do? Pardners are pardners, and every cop knows that a special
bond exists and must be maintained with your pardner. Break that bond,
betray that special trust, and your career is all but over. Not one
fellow officer would ever trust you again, you might as well have some
terrible disease. Do that, ruin that trust, and you'd spend a lot of
lonely days and nights. But maybe it didn't have to come to that. Maybe
he could talk his pardner out of this before it really got out of
control.

The driver, (and senior officer), must have realized the struggle the
junior officer was having when he said, "Just sit tight pardner, this
won't take long." With that he turned, removed his .38 from it's
holster, and began yelling at the man. He shouted everything he could
summon in an attempt to goad the man into making a dash for the trees.
But the man, stubbornly stood and stared at the ground. Finally, the
officer belched, "Halt or I'll shoot!" while aiming the revolver at the
man. Slowly the officer closed the distance between him and the man.
With one last bit of prodding, he pulled the hammer back and positioned
himself to fire. Suddenly, the man dropped to his knees and placed his
hands on his head. Then, just as quickly, the junior officer stepped
between them. Heatedly, the senior officer told him to get out of the
way, but the young officer didn't budge. Trying to diffuse the
situation, the young officer attempted " Why don't youz lemme do it. I
got more to loose dan youz. You aint takin no wrap for dis bum. Sides,
you'd do it for me if youz were me. So, come on, gimme de oppor tune to
do dis."

Whether it was the eloquent speech or the ostentateous display of
loyalty, the man never knew. But the senior officer, gripped by the
humor of the moment, burst into laughter. In just moments, they were on
their way again. As they travelled, the driver told the man to forget
what just happened. "Besides, nobody will believe you anyway. All we
have to say is that you were trying to escape and I almost had to shoot
to stop you. Understand? " Of course there was no reply, just more
silence. As they pulled up to the building, the junior officer looked
at the man and instructed, "nuttin happened back dare, comprendo, you
bum."

The man, was booked, searched, and changed into state issue, then led
to an interrogation room. The D.A. wanted to handle this one personally
and rose as the man entered the room. The D.A., a veteran of over
twenty years, inspected the man thoughtfully as they both were seated.
After a moment of probing silence the D. A. began. With the recorder
set, he whizzed past the who's and what's and got straight to the heart
of the matter. He didn't believe in hidden agendas, he'd leave all that
to the police psychiatrist (or shrink to him). As the D.A. questioned
the man ( who only responded by saying "I want to talk to the old man")
one thought nestled in the back of his mind. "I pledged to represent
the state, the people, to ensure justice is sought for every single
case. And I'm going to do my job this time. Yes, this time I'll be
sepecially diliget for the people." Since the man continued to insist
on talking to the "old man" the D.A. decided to take a break, regroup,
and continue in a few minutes. But first he wanted to find out who this
"old man" was.

After speaking with every officer at the scene, with no report of
seeing an old man, he made a mental note to check it out later. Then,
as he was returning to the interrogation room, he was joined by the
man's attorney and, of course, the shrink. The attorney and shrink were
just standard procedure in cases like this. But the D.A. had hoped for
just a few more minutes alone with the man. He hadn't gotten one bit of
information yet, and there was a lot he wanted to know. The attorney
entered alone and sat down. After reiterating his rights, a brief
introduction, and some general questions, the attorney asked," So, what
do you want to do? Do you want to go the 'insanity plea' route or what?
Just tell me what happened and I guess we'll decide from there." The
man sat silent for several minutes. Then, as the attorney said he'd be
back and rose to leave, the man began to talk. At first he was barely
audible, but eventually began to vocalize the events of the evening.
That is, the events he could remember.

In an almost monotone the man vaguely described the circumstances that
culminated in his brash behavior that evening. Random scenes were
detailed and emphasized as the man rambled on. Following a huge yawn by
the attorney, the man looked straight at the wall and said, "...then he
came walking right in....don't know how he got in, but there he was..."
He continued to lay out the information like an artist beginning a
painting. This painting, as the lawyer started to see, was initially
like a Picasso. But as each stroke was added, it began to transform
into a DaVinci. As the lawyer listened he thought to himself, " What an
imagination, does he really think I'm going to believe this stuff?" The
man recounted, " He just came walking down the hall by the stairs.
Before I knew it, he was standing two or three steps from me. His face
looked like the sun reflected off it. His hair was white, and he had a
strong, powerful, but gentle voice..."

As the old man approached from the hallway he watched the man whirling,
stamping, and smashing things with his feet. The man was ranting and
raving, spewing senseless superlatives, as he swun his 4 yesr old son
like a rag doll. The boy, tightly clutched in the man's left arm, was
crying -- petrified by the ongoings. In his right hand, the man was
wielding a .357 magnum. The man had been drinking heavily and had a mad
on for the world. When he noticed the old man, he whirled to face him
and brought the magnum to bear. Looking straight at the man, the old
man said " allow the child to come to me. " Mechanically, the man
lowered the boy to the floor and then watched as the boy walked over to
the old man. Now speechless, almost passive, the man looked like a
child caught cheating on a test. Before the man could recover from the
gravity of the moment, before he could rekindle the rage inside him and
try to take the offensive, the old man spoke again. As soon as the old
man finished speaking, the man dropped the weapon, spun around, and ran
wildly through the front door. When the officers entered the house a
few minutes later, the boy was sitting quietly on the davenport.
Kneeling close by, one officer was surprised when the boy met his gaze,
then smiled. He wasn't crying, the tears were all gone. The boy, still
smiling, said, "Everything is going to be ok -- he told me so."

With the images clear in his mind, the lawyer asked the man what he
wanted to do. The man said simply, but emphatically, " I want to talk
to the 'old man'." The lawyer, thinking he must be talking about the
watch commander, told him the commander was on vacation and wouldn't be
back for weeks. At that point, the man became agitated and said "Let me
talk to the old man or tell me what happened to Sardin and Goyola."
Puzzled, the lawyer played along. With the best poker face he could
muster, he looked at the man and said, "Oh, those two. Well, I'm not
sure I should discuss it. Let me talk to the D.A. for a few minutes.
Maybe he'll agree to it. Sit tight. I'll be right back."

The lawyer discovered that the D.A. didn't have any idea who Sardin and
Goyola were. Nor did he have any inkling of the identity of this
mysterious "old man". Or if any of them really existed. At this point,
they weren't sure how much of the man's statements were fantasy, and
how much actually happened. So, they both looked at the shrink. And
like wrestlers making a tag, the shrink took his turn. His job was to
enter the man's world, separate fact from fiction, and guide the man
back to reality. Hopefully along the way, cognition of his crime would
lead to swift justice. If not, he'd recommend a treatment program.
Before the shrink could sit down, the man began a verbal barrage that
ended with, "Now are you going to tell me what happened to those two
guys or what? "

Like the police, D.A., and the attorney, the psychiatrist had taken a
pledge. He had pledged to do everything, to use every available
resource within his scope, to help people. If this man were really
disturbed, if he wasn't aware of the world we knew, he would be
obligated to help him -- as distasteful as the prospect sounded. So he
asked the man, "What exactly did the old man say? About the two men
that is." The man sat, his face disturbed, as he racked his brain to
remember the exact verbage. Then he offered slowly, "It was something
like......'it's going', no, no......'it will be harder'......'it will
be harder for you than'...." He paused again, trying to remember those
two names. But he continued, "Something Sardin, Simon,
Sigmund.....something Gamele, Gamozzle, Gardo....." Thinking rapidly,
the shrink flashed back to his first year in college. Those two words
were familiar. But he couldn't place it. It was right there, on the tip
of his tongue. He could almost hear them in his mind. Were they famous
cases? If they were, maybe he could reach this man if he acquainted
himself with the facts of the case. Maybe with that information he'd
have something to trade with the man. But this "old man", that was
another problem he'd have to address later. He'd fix that flat after he
found the jack. Maybe, just maybe, one of the officers could shed some
light on the situation.

By mutual concent, the three public servants decided to give the man a
rest and do a little homework. They had much to do. Each one had to
prepare their case, and all three had lots of holes to fill. Initially,
they agreed to work together in an attempt to get to the bottom of this
mess. As they sat planning out their course for the next few days, a
social worker walked up and asked, "The old man, is he one of the boy's
relatives?" To all of them, that was becoming a sore subject. But, at
least it appeared the "old man" wasn't a figment of the man's
imagination. He could be the key to this whole sorted mess. Obviously
the boy had seen him too, they'd almost forgotten about the lad. So,
with renewed reslove, the D.A. asked how the boy was doing. And, the
shrink chimed in to find out if the boy wanted to talk about his
experience. Primarily, they were all afraid the boy would be
traumatized for life. But to everyone's surprise he seemed cheerful,
content, and openly talked about the events. This case was a real
roller coaster, actually more like a bad dream.

While this menagerie of municipal mandamai scholars contemplated their
next move, the man sat alone, thinking. He firmly decided not to say
another word until someone told him about those two men. He wanted to
know about them, more specifically, he wanted to know of their plight.
Until he got that information, he wouldn't make a decision on his plea.
He didn't feel any remorse for his actions, all he could think about
was how he was going to beat this thing. At the very worst, he figured,
he'd have to spend a few months in a nut house. He could handle that,
but the real trick was to play it out long enough to beat the wrap, but
not long enough to get stuck there for life. He couldn't imagine a
worse fate for someone like himself. He had seen how those people were
treated. You never had any privacy, and they continually tormented you.
If you weren't nuts when you got there, they'd drive you over the edge.
If, he played his cards right then, he'd be back in business in no
time.

A young officer, walking by the group discussing the man's fate,
overheard the part about Sydney and Grumfeld. Impulsively, and without
knowing she spoke aloud, she said, "Sodom and Gomorrah..." Still
walking, she was halted by the D.A. when he asked, " What did you say?
What are you talking about?" After being summoned to the group she once
again said, " Sodom and Gomorrah, the two cities from the Bible. They
were destroyed...." Before she could continue, like flood lights, the
long buried memory shook the entire group. They had each forgotten the
story from their childhood. But why would the man be asking about that
story? The D.A., with this new bit of information, decided he again
talk with the man.

The man, still wrestling with his quandry, was shocked when the old man
stepped through the door. Without a word, he reached over, touched the
man's hand, and said " you're going to a place where you can play all
day, but where grown-ups will torment you continually. Then you will
understand fear, pain, and suffering...The kind of diet you have given
children for years." Immediately, the man began to regress. His
memories slowly dissolved, and his awareness of this world slowly
ebbed. As the door closed behind the old man, the man (or the child he
became), got down in the floor to play marbles.

Shortly after the D.A. entered the room, he knew the best course of
action for both children. It was now easy for him to honor the pledge
he made over 20 years ago.