Friday Part III

Friday Perspective
Courier Chronicles

My description of the events that took place this past Friday October 23 Continues. Two Pleadings plus a few Checks in my bag on the Twelve O'clock schedule and I am on the way back to the Court. Around the corner on 4th the phone rings, a forgotten Twelve O'clock job at 1222hrs now a rush to the ROD Public Work area and a familiar balding fellow. Trajectory changes on the two dimensional flight path, heading now for the King on the Chess board to pick up the ASAP. Diversion constant, timing change is perpetual in this sort of livity because the wheels are in motion. Including this latest change in flight plan sending me smack dab into an audible Euro Siren Transfer. In a bend in the avenue I slow the bike to a crawl listening to the echo of some sort of an alarm test in a dark new building under construction. As I ride slowly by huge openings in the sides of the new building I can see thousands of tiny pin points of light attached to the walls and rafters flashing in unison with the wailing of the Euro ambulance siren style alarm. I flash back to the German Polizei(Poh lee zeye) racing through the wet streets below our room on the morning of Day 3 when a bunch of people quit. ROD dropped by 1240hrs and a few minutes later I was back in line at the Clerk's Office. Only one clerk, the line is seven deep at mid lunch celebration. Moving slowly towards the front I hear a desperate ruckus on my left. A baby's momma with her teenage baby holding one of her own. Something negative was heaving from them. The baby started to cry which drew my attention through the fog emotional disconnect between them and I. Her head looked draped in a cloud like the Corporate Center earlier in he morning. People standing around ignored the source, do not look at it because it is right in front of you. It is much easier to live in reality that way for most, not I. I kept an eye on it for the few minutes I was in line. Just as I stepped to the window I saw the anger transfer by the black hand of the angry young baby's mama to the baby's tiny diapered hip she was holding. Twice hard, quick with a verbal, "Be quiet" through her gritted white teeth. Damn, I should hit you I thought as I looked for her eyes avoiding mine but searching for those not looking. The baby quieted down only in the arms of her mama's mama. I walked away from the clerk towards the cashier to pay multiple bills for my client and I stared intently for the dark eyes of the even darker mama. She glanced, it was cold and hate tied in a knot with even more of her own 'reality'. I left the court again for the Hearst Tower and the return of the Twelve.
Not long after 1300hrs I was sitting at a small wooden round table in front of a tall window looking out on Tryon. I broke out my home made sandwich lunch, the green roadie water bottle I found in Greenville along the course and the Tillman book. The sun was blasting through holes in the low dark clouds that were moving fast across the sky from the south and west. The shadows made the clouds movement noticeable without looking up into the silver sky dotted with crevasses in the clouds filled with the dramatic deep blue of our own atmosphere. Minutes pass while I eat, sip water and read about Tillman's youthful awareness. I am reminded of my kid by what I am reading. When the sun finds a hole it lights up the window with thick radiant warmth. Then it hides behind the thick clouds and the heat stops the light from bouncing off of the white pages of my book. Forty minutes pass and it is time to pack up and move for the Two O'clock schedule at two Firms in different big buildings. The pick ups yield three jobs, more Court work. The first is back to the Courthouse along the same approach as the previous 10,000 times. The answer comes in the form of following myself into the dark. Clouds are billowing and moving across the sky like strips of film with no projector. Large and small scattered all the way up high in the sky as well as down low towards the horizon. Hello again Deputy, through the security check that at afternoon docket call reminds me of what I had seen at immigrations in Newark once returning from afar. Sluggish folk at the dispense of the authority bound by the thin felt ropes funneling them through and into the Judiciary System so that they can pay or yet perhaps a few even get paid. Up to the Chambers first, still nothing in the order box for an anxious and curious client. Back down to the clerk for filing. To the window and while I wait I find out that there is no Chocolate for sale anymore, the World's finest to be exact. No Complaint in the consolidated case file. Job done and back up the hill for One Wacky and Three Wacky. All work returned by 1445hrs and I am on my way to 201 North Tryon(aka The Hearst Tower) for my three O'clock pick up at one big Firm with two Departments.

On the morrow the story of what happened in one day on Friday will continue......