My chair squeaked on its weak hinges as I settled behind the judge's podium. The shafts of light from the high windows were succeeding in nothing but casting dark and dusty shadows on the deep mahogany courtroom. I glanced down at the folder and instantly remembered the case. Three critically acclaimed characters were fighting to stay in school curriculums everywhere. Most schools had made the decision peacefully, but when the characters had traveled to Algonquin Regional High School, the discussions had proved inconclusive. It was now my job to decide which of the bottom three stories would be cut. I glanced down at the sad eyed bailiff on my left.
"Alright Benny, you can let em in now," I said to him
Benny nodded and opened the door at the back of the courtroom. Algonquin's English department was first to enter, followed by eleven or so men in robes and sandals, a few journalists and photographers, and finally the school administration. The general murmur of the room was immediately silenced when the three defendants entered. They walked in single file and each sat behind individual rectangular tables.
Sitting behind the far left desk was a relatively young man. His face was a deep tan and was mostly obscured by a large beard and shoulder length hair. He wore a pair of Levi jeans and large flip-flops. His shirt was brown and scrawled across the front were the words "Don't Worry…Be Happy"
Behind the middle desk sat a scarred old man. His eyes showed the dark circles of a person who had worked for much of his life and received very little gratification for it. This man was dressed in a plain suit. Yet, most astounding was the stark contrast between this man's skin tone and the defendant before him. While the man on the far left was a deep tan, the newcomer's skin was as pale as the Massachusetts snow.
About a minute after the first two defendants had been seated, a skinny teenage boy slumped in and sat behind the table on the far right. He wore a button down shirt, a pair of Ralph Lauren jeans, and a dark look. Although he looked no older than 17, his hair was starting to gray at the ends. In his hands was clenched a small worn baseball mitt and he was twisting it rather nervously.
When all three men had taken their seats, the room settled into an expectant silence.
"Alright," I addressed the crowd, "I assume everyone knows that we are gathered for the hearing of Algonquin vs. Literature. Do to the press on time, we will start right in. Mr. –erm- Nazareth? Will you please explain why the bible needs to stay in high school English classes?"
The man on the far left looked up and replied:
"Please your honor; I go by many names but never Mr. Nazareth. Please simply call me Jesus. As for my father's words, it was his proclamation that all should have an opportunity to hear the call and have a chance to answer it."
There was a pronounced Tch sound from the other side of the room.
"Yes, Mr. Caulfield?" I asked the teenager on the far right.
The boy looked like he was trying to stop himself from saying something, but failing greatly.
"He's such a phony!" he burst out, "God has never done shit for anyone and he knows it. If there really was a God why do we have so much crap in the world?"
"I'll ask that you keep your language civil in present company," I said sternly.
"Sorry Ma'am" Holden mumbled and returned to twisting his baseball mitt.
"Mr. Caulfield? Will you make a case for your book?" I asked him. Out of the corner of my eye I caught Jesus frowning at Holden.
"Well um Catcher in the Rye should be kept in schools, because um its teachin the students that read it about how you should hold onto your life before you grow up."
"Are you saying that your book is providing direction on how to live one's life?" Jesus asked.
"Well-" Holden started
"Because if that is what you are implying I say to you that no model for life is in the same league as the lord our God."
"Well that would be a problem, if there was a friggin God."
"Amen I say to you for when you reach the Lord's house for judgment you will need more than a blessing to enter the kingdom of heaven!"
"You're askin for a black eye" Holden snarled. In the audience the eleven robed men began to grumble.
"Enough!" I shouted over the noise, "Please try to keep things civil, both of you."
Holden raised his hand as if in school. I nodded to him and he stood up.
"If you don't mind me sayin, your honor, I don't think religion's somethn that should be taught in school. Don't ya think that kids should have the chance to choose they want?" he asked politely.
This comment raised the dull beat of the audience's conversation and I was driven to banging my gavel to maintain order. I asked Jesus of his response.
"Your honor, the word of God is the word of truth. God will never lead astray," was all he could come up with.
"Mr. Nazareth, while I have yet to hear from our third defendant I'm afraid that will not be an acceptable response in modern schools of America," I replied.
At that moment, the door at the back of the audience opened again and a smartly dressed man took a seat in the back row. Ignoring the newest member of our company, I raised my gavel to make my verdict.
"Mr. Nazareth, unless you can make a more convincing case I am going to cut you from the reading list," I warned. Before Jesus could reply, the newcomer to the audience stood up.
"Your honor, I am requesting permission to make a statement for the defense of the stories in today's hearing," his voice was deep and so powerful it carried all the way from where he stood to where I sat.
"And who would you be?" I asked.
"My name, is Joseph Campbell."
"Very well then, Mr. Campbell."
Mr. Campbell, approached the stand and took two books out of his briefcase.
"Your Honor, I hold before you two books. One is the Catcher in the Rye, and the other is the Bible. While I know you carry the burden of deciding which of these books will be forced out of the Algonquin Regional High School curriculum, I wished to make a statement. It can be said that teaching the bible is preaching Christianity to students. It can be said that teaching the Catcher in the Rye is creating new Mark David Chapmen's for the world. Yet there is an argument lacking from this courtroom. Both of these books are not meant to be studied for their words, but for the author's meaning. Mr. Salinger wrote of holding onto one's fleeting childhood. The bible shows my very own hypothesis of the hero's journey in countless books. Therefore, judge these books on what lies between the words, not the words themselves."
"Thank you, I will certainly take these words into consideration but we must begin the examination of our third defendant. Do you have any words of defense for Mr. Ethan Frome?"
Mr. Campbell spoke of never reading Ethan Frome and could therefore not properly defend him. I then asked Mr. Campbell to step down and he complied as I focused on the man behind the center table.
"Can you speak for your defense, Mr. Frome?" I asked.
"My story provides an example of the harshness and cruelty of life" he replied in a small voice. As Ethan Frome looked up at me, his face was caught in a shaft of light but, just as before, this light only succeeded in superimposing the dark circles on his eyes. The poor man looked so exhausted.
"So?" Holden snapped, "My book does that too!"
"God has always proclaimed the suffering of Eve's mistake," Jesus seemed to be agreeing with Holden, but he spoke so cryptically, it was difficult to tell.
"Mr. Frome, will you please make a new case for yourself?" I asked him. I did want to give the man a fair chance, but he only looked up at me again. After a few long moments, I sighed.
"Ethan Frome, I hereby retire your book from the Algonquin Regional High School curriculum. Hopefully this will give you the time you need to take pleasure from life, instead of traveling far and wide to defend your book. Court is adjourned." I banged my gavel twice and lay it down.
Ethan gave me a small smile, nodded and disappeared without a backward glance. Mr. Nazareth rose from their seats and was instantly jumped by the press for interviews. Mr. Caulfield walked up to a college age girl sitting in the back of the room.
"Hey Esther," I caught him saying
I rose from my chair, which gave another slight squeak , and left the courtroom.