Chapter Sixteen-
The courtroom, as a whole, fell into a hush when they heard the doors part and saw Meg march boldly down the aisle.
The Devil, in particular, was at a loss for words, as she walked to her bench as though nothing was wrong. Jennifer and the other kids huddled near Meg, asking question after question in low tones, but Meg waved their fears away with a placating hand and a kind voice.
The counselor turned to address the judge. "Your Honor, I'm sorry I was late getting back here-"
The judge gave her a look that squashed any excuse she may have been ready to launch.
"Miss Griffin, when you asked for this recess, the court granted you this courtesy on the understanding that you were professional enough in your duties as defense counselor to report back when your time was up. The bench would hate to think that you did this simply to embarrass the court, your clients, and yourself, Miss Griffin."
Meg bowed her head in mortification. The buoyancy she felt a moment ago was gone, and her joy fell as fast a lead balloon. "No, Your Honor."
"Now then, seeing as how you managed to just make it in before time had elapsed," the judge continued. "Would you please give the jury your closing argument?"
Meg had to rewind that last statement from the judge. She still had trouble believing it.
"Your Honor, did you say that I just made it in? On time?"
"Yes, Miss Griffin," the judge said with time-honed patience. "You made it back in time. Perhaps besides a cell phone, you might do just as well with a watch. All the best lawyers are wearing them these days."
Despite the chuckles from the court, Meg smile gratefully and said, "Yes, Your Honor." Then she walked to the front of the courtroom.
'God must've gave me this,' Meg thought as she ran her speech in her head. 'He turned back the clock for me.'
She glanced at the prosecution, lounging coolly by his legal team. She then glanced out to the faces of the audience in attendance. She felt like had a long time ago, practicing for school plays, running line by tricky line in rehearsals, wondering what she'd looked like on stage on Opening Night, and a hundred other thoughts that jumbled in her head like clothes in a dryer.
She finally glanced over at Jennifer and understood something that she always seemed to disregard during those school play days. Her performance. Not in an "I-hope-I don't-mess-up-my-lines-and-totally-destroy-myself-on-stage-in-embarrassment" sense, but in a true sense of the word. To emote and to give every bit of yourself in the acting.
But in looking into Jennifer's worried, yet hopeful eyes, Meg knew that she could not act. She had to convince this jury one last time. Make them believe one last time. She would have to shed her very being of all pretension, all ego, and bear her own self naked before the jury, clothed only in truth, passion and sincerity.
She put the speech she had prepared in her mind, out of it, and spoke from the heart.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I'm not angel. Not in any sense of the term. I'm human, and I came here not just to save the souls of those other humans over there, but to represent them."
"In Heaven, there's no such thing as cults because there's no need for any. It's already a beautiful place. But from where we come from, things aren't always so beautiful, for a lot of people. Now, I'm not saying that that's not our fault for a lot of what goes down, because that would be a bold-faced lie, and that's not what I'm about here."
"What I'm saying is that people instinctively reach out for something when they're drowning, and sometimes what they hold on to isn't all that good for them. And when you're a kid, and you're awkward and scared, lonely and miserable that you can't find someone to talk to outside the home, and you just can't seem to catch a break, you reach out for something, anything, to catch your fall. That's what my clients did. That's what I did."
"I won't show you the scars from all the times I cut myself, because the pain of my cuts hurt less than the pain in my life. I won't bore you with rousing tales of social rejection and ridicule at my expense, because I was either too smart, or too plain, or not exciting enough to lift everyone else from the boredom of high school or family life."
"There's no need, because every one of those things have already happened to my clients in one way, or another. Yes, I have wondered about suicide. Many times. I was even encouraged at it, at one point, by my own mom. Now, I don't know the family histories of my clients, and until recently, didn't know anything about Jennifer's, but there had to be a reason for them joining that cult. Maybe problems at home drove them, I can't say. All I can say is that no one joins a cult for laughs. The kids were all going through something they couldn't handle, and instead of drowning, they reached out for it."
"Why? Because they were human. Just like me. And I'm sure, just like you used to be. I'm not saying that you should reject your spirituality in making your decision. What I am asking, however, is for you remember what it was like to be human. To feel, even when it felt wrong, sometimes. To make a bad decision based on emotion, even when it felt good at the time. All of those crazy, weird things that make us human beings. Don't turn your back on them, and please don't turn your back on these children. These human children."
"As I told you all from the beginning, they died accidentally, and it's as true now as it was then, but you have to make your decision, and all I can do is let you know who will be condemned as a result. I like to think that Heaven is a place not only for the good, but also for the compassionate. I guess we'll all find out soon enough. Thank you."
Meg went over to the bailiff and handed him the Mortality Report. The bailiff then handed it to the judge.
"I'm sorry it took so long to find it, Your Honor," Meg confessed to him. "That's the real reason for the recess. I had to try one last time to look for it."
The judge opened the cover and pulled out a few of the pages to look over. He glanced over at Meg, and said matter-of-factly, "These pages are blank, Miss Griffin." He turned the sheets he had in his hand over, so that Meg could see that there was nothing printed on either side.
It felt to Meg like a giant question mark had settled squarely on her red-capped head. Or getting punched in the stomach. She couldn't decide.
"What?" was all she could manage to blurt out.
The judge ignored the comment, such as it was, and said to the prosecution, "Would the prosecution like to rebut?"
After seeing Meg's haunted expression on her face, the Devil calmly said, "No, Your Honor."
The judge turned his attention to the jury.
"Jury members, you have heard the evidence. Now it is your job to decide whether the members of Heaven's Helpers Youth Cult tried to commit the mortal sin of suicide. Will you please go with the bailiff to the jury room?"
As the jury filed out of the jury box, he finally regarded the rest of the court. "There will be a ten minute recess while the jury deliberates."
With a bang of the gavel, the room began to empty out into the hallway. As security gathered and escorted Jennifer and the others away, a bewildered Meg Griffin sat in her chair, trying, between bouts of confusion, to work out what the heck happened.
In the holding cell, Jennifer sat in the chair provided, watching her best friend slowly being ground under the weight of her possible failure.
"Gee, Meg. By the look on your face, you'd think that you were the one put in this holding cell," she joked. But Meg's mood hadn't changed a jot. It may have even worsened slightly.
Meg stood by a dark corner of the cell, like a child being punished. She felt exactly that way. Like she overstepped the bounds of what she was. An Icarus who flew too close to the jurisdictional sun, and was falling into the sea of despair.
"Please look at me, Meg," Jennifer said.
"I can't," Meg said finally. It came out as a guilty croak.
"Why?"
Meg sighed. Why was Jennifer making this so difficult? "Because, I…I can't stand to see you this way. I don't want to see you this way."
Jennifer stood up and went to her. Meg heard her approach and angled herself away from her a little more, but Jennifer still approached. She came up behind Meg, and put her arms around her waist in a commiserating hug.
"I want you to know that I don't blame you for a single thing that's going to happen, Meg," she said, feeling hot tears fall on her closed hands and wrists. "You did everything you could do to save us. You were…you are a real friend."
"Then how come you're going to Hell, huh?" Meg asked in a bitter sob. "How come I can't stop that from happening? You asked me to help you, and I couldn't even do that!"
Jennifer held her tighter as a response. "You did what you could, Meg. You were a fighter out there. You fought for us and I couldn't be prouder. Thank you so much for what you did."
Meg couldn't be swayed. Her guilt wouldn't allow it. "I did nothing."
Jennifer could see that Meg was too despondent to listen. Too stuck in her own Hell. She wished her friend could understand that it was all right. That yes, she was afraid, but not bitter of any failings on Meg's part. It was just a bad bit of business, that's all.
"Oh, Meg," she sighed, in sadness for her.
There came a knock on the door and the bailiff stepped in.
"It's time," the woman said to them.
The judge looked out over the court, as both prosecution and his team, and the defense and her charges, stood by their benches. From the other side of the courtroom, he could see the jury returning to the jury box in solemn silence. Whatever was passed among them had put them all in a somber mood.
A mood that was shared in equal intensity over at the defense's bench, where counsel looked as though she were the condemned awaiting verdict. Nothing more could be said or done, except to listen to the verdict, which he asked for now.
Meg tried to stand up straight as she saw the presiding juror stand up from among his peers with a piece of paper in his hand. But her heart just wasn't in it, couldn't be in it, particularly when she could see the Devil give a sly, slick smile to one of the members of his legal team. She leaned over the table slightly, sure she was going to be sick.
The judge looked to the juror and asked, "Have you reached a verdict?"
The presiding juror answered. "We have, Your Honor."
"What is the verdict?"
"It is the judgment of the court that the defendants, the members of the Heaven's Helpers Youth Cult, are not guilty of the charge of suicide."
The only thing that woke Meg up from her funk was the screams that rose from Jennifer and the others beside her, as the judge banged his gavel to return order to the proceedings.
Jennifer grabbed Meg in a bear hug, yelling in her ears, "You did it! You did it! I knew you could do it!"
Meg, for her part, thought she just woke from a slow-building bad dream, and into the middle of a New Year's Eve party.
"We won?"
"Yes! Yes! We won! You did it!"
It was like winning the lottery a hundred times over for Meg. All the effort, worry, and pain were over, and she was being rewarded for it.
She wiped her eyes and hugged her best friend back as hard as she could. She had to keep reminding herself that she succeeded in so monumental a task, because it was so hard to believe. An awkward teenaged girl from Rhode Island, bested the Devil, and saved her friend's soul.
As Jennifer and her comrades talked animatedly about telling the other members of their very good fortune, Meg could see the Devil sulking mightily. Then he sighed, straightened himself off, and walked over to her side of the room.
Meg tensed. She knew from the aborted attack earlier, that he could be as much a bad loser, as a good one. She hoped security was on the ball now.
He stood in front of her, square-shouldered, looking down upon her from his height. He raised his hand.
Meg couldn't watch the coming attack, and was just glad that Jennifer and the others were off the hook.
When enough time passed that Meg felt something was amiss, she cautiously opened her eyes.
The hand was still in the air, palm open, to receive her hand.
"No hard feelings?" the Devil asked.
Meg was raised to be polite, so she raised her hand ever so skeptically to fit it into his. Thoughts of his little nausea handshake running in her mind.
Nothing happened. No ill effects or sickness, just a firm shake from a strong hand. Gratified, Meg shook back with a friendly vigor.
"Not bad, kid. Not bad," he told her. "You certainly went the distance with this one. Thought I had this one all sewn up, but you pulled it off."
"Thank you," she said, releasing him finally.
"Hey, listen, if you ever want to go corporate, I know some people you might-"
She politely held up her hand to stop his pitch. "No, thank you, Mr. Scratch, but I think if I ever want to do this again, I'll follow my faith, my guts, and my heart. They've certainly gotten me this far."
When the Devil looked hurt, Meg wasn't sure how she should respond, but then he made his expression more cordial, as he said with a slight respectful bow, "Very well, Megan Griffin, defense attorney. Besides, I've got a pretty neat consolation prize."
He presented the Soulflame and held up to Meg. If one looked closely, one could still see and hear the tortured spirit of Ragg raging on inside the sculptured, amber fire.
Like a naughty boy taunting and frightening a girl with a frog, he began bringing it uncomfortably close to Meg's face, before snatching it away again, asking her rather childishly, "You wanna touch it? Huh? You wanna touch it? You wanna touch it?"
"Ew! No! You can have him! Just get him away from me and enjoy," Meg said, recoiling away slightly.
With a chuckle, the Devil backed off. "Okay, I'm off now. Say hi to your folks for me. Tell 'em I'm always thinking about them." He then added slyly, "To use against you."
As Jennifer and the others huddled behind Meg, either for protection, or to give it, the counselor shrugged off the comment confidently, and said, "Whatever."
From up the aisle, the doors opened and Death flowed into the room, down towards Meg and the defendants.
The Devil, walking back to his bench, turned and saw Death walk up to congratulate her. Seeing the two of them together, he went silent for a moment, and then said to her, as a cryptic farewell, "Well played, mortal. But I suppose when all is said and done, death really is your closest friend."
Without another word on the subject, he and his prize left in a red and black whirlwind of smoke.
Death looked as puzzled as anyone in a hood could convey, as he asked her, "What did he say?"
Meg, absorbing the Devil's parting words, and looking thoroughly introspective as she weighed them, finally said to her friend, "Nothing." Then she asked, "How did you get here? I'd thought you'd be busy."
"I gave him a lift on my way here," said God as he walked over to the defense bench, seemingly from nowhere.
Meg turned to see Him. All of the time she spent with Him, still vivid in her mind, and it seem, the confusion.
"I don't get it, God," she said. "Why would you give me a report with nothing in it? I thought that the report would show the court that the kids died accidentally. I'm glad I won the case for them, but did I go through all of this for nothing?"
"Not at all," he told her. "I could have left the writing on the papers, and let you win the case just like that. But think about it. Even if the report could have won the case, it would have been nowhere near as important as you winning the case." He then pointed at her nose playfully.
Meg was struck dumb. "Huh?"
With a smile born of infinite patience, God shook His head slowly and explained.
"When you stood up in front of the jury and gave your closing argument, you did more than just convince a jury out there. You put yourself on trial, too. You showed the jury, in a way the Devil never could, what you were willing to do for someone who needed you. You used your brains, your guts, your will, and that big heart of yours to save those souls. That's what makes you a lawyer, Meg. That's what makes you a good lawyer. And that's why you won today."
Meg had a lot to think about just then, and the words the Devil said to her in parting seemed so far away now. Replaced by words that were far more important. Words that she understood immediately.
"I get it, now," she said with a grateful look on her face. "Thank you."
God nodded approvingly and said, holding out a wrapped object, "And for being such a winner, here's a lollipop for you." Meg, never being one to disregard a gift from the All High, accepted it, and popped it in her mouth.
The second she did, a wave of indescribable flavor hit her tongue, and she suddenly became caught up in the ecstasy gag of those dogs that ate the treats in the old Hanna-Barbera cartoons.
"Mmmm…"
"Mmmmm…"
"MMMMMMmmmmm!"
She then shot into the air and then, amazingly, floated gently back down to the floor in absolute bliss.
"Ahhhhhh…"
Death leaned over to God and asked in low tones, "What are they, and where can I get some?"
Meg's earthly form didn't appear on the roof of the now deceased Ragg's building. Instead, she woke up outside, by the foot of a long, stately staircase of gray stone steps that led to an abandoned mansion of modern architecture, in the suburbs. A mansion she had been to before.
"The cult's headquarters?" she asked herself. Just as well, she figured. This adventure surely had come full circle.
The street was empty and quiet, and on the curb nearby, was the red family station wagon. 'He provides all,' she thought with a smile, as she looked up into the cool, clear night sky.
Then the sounds of a gathering caught her attention. Standing up and following the hubbub, Meg clambered through the overgrowing shrubs and hedges to see a strange, yet welcome, assemblage.
The entire and former Heaven's Helpers Youth Cult surrounded Death. They were beaming in happiness and talking a mile a minute, although no one, save Meg, could hear them. Even the old cult leader was smiling and taking his ease with some of them, especially Jennifer, whose body language showed that she was more forgiving of him now.
She turned to see Meg struggling out of the branches of a particularly thick shrub, and ran over to her with a hug that threatened to knock her back into the bush.
"Meg! Meg!" Jennifer squeaked joyfully. "Great news! I'm going to be Death's new apprentice! Isn't that just the coolest?"
From up close, Meg could see that Jennifer was now wearing a black tracksuit, in place of her former blue one. On the back of her jacket, stenciled in white, was the word, Trainee
"Wow!" Meg said, not exactly sure how to take it, but not willing to spoil her friend's good mood, either. "I can't believe it! I'm actually jealous. Congratulations, Jennifer." They then gave each other another hug.
"I'm going to get the others ready for departure," Jennifer chirped as she left Meg. "I'll be back!"
Death quietly walked over to Meg, watching Jennifer talk enthusiastically amongst her friends. Meg noticed him, but didn't turn when she spoke.
"New apprentice, huh?"
"Yeah, well," Death said, almost sounding sheepish. "Figured the kid needed someone to, y'know, talk to, and I kinda let slip that I might need somebody to take the reins when I retire."
"Wow, Death," said Meg, surprised at his sensitivity. "That's kinda sweet. Didn't know you were such an old softy."
"Well, don't spread it around. I got an image to maintain," he said with mock-indignity. Then he looked back at Meg with a sigh, his head bowed slightly in a gesture of defeat. "What is it with you Griffins? I hang around with you guys, and my heart, as it were, always winds up on my sleeve." Meg just smiled at the tough-guy act.
"Yeah, I got an image. All bad, y'know? There was a time when pretty much nobody feared death? Nowadays, unless it's Halloween, I've got bad PR, and job security's not enough, y'know?"
"I'm sorry to hear that," Meg commiserated. "But why Jennifer?"
"Your friend's a pretty sweet kid. She's got a good head on her shoulders, too, for having me get in touch with you. It's too bad she fell in with that nutcase, but it's only 'cuz nobody would listen to her, or take her seriously."
"Yeah," Meg said sadly. "I know."
"Then you know where I'm coming from. She needs somebody out there, maybe give her the kind of life she didn't have here on Earth, y'know? Like as a role-model, or a mentor-"
"Or a father?" Meg asked, understanding, at last.
For heartbeats, Death said nothing.
Then with a chuckle, he composed himself. "Hey, let's not read too much into this. I just think with her, someday, she can really improve the image of the business. She's a real people person. Maybe with her running things, one day, folks can say, "Maybe death's not so bad," y'know?"
Meg gave another wise smile to Death, who knew she could see through his semi-pragmatic evasions. "Well, just look after her, you old softy, okay? She's my friend, too."
"Can do, kid," he said with all sincerity. "Come on. You can see us off."
They walked over to the throng of kids and one old man. Jennifer stood proudly over her charges, as Meg and Death approached.
"Oh, hi, guys," Jennifer sang. "What were you talking about over there?"
"Oh, just...stuff," Meg said breezily. Then said more sincerely, "I'm glad things are working out for you now."
"I knew they would," Jennifer said, beaming. "That's why I told them that you had to defend us, Meg. I knew when I first saw you in school that day, there was a reason you were put on this Earth. To help others...There's no one like you."
Something broke in Meg's heart at that moment, something she thought she'd never hear in a million lifetimes. Those words. Tears swelled out of her eyes, and right then and there, she knew she would miss her terribly.
Meg moved forward with no preamble, hugging the girl as tight as her emotions could spur her.
"I'm going to miss you so much," Meg whispered in a sob.
"Oh, me, too, Meg."
For a handful of minutes, no one spoke, no one disturbed the moment. It was too pure and far too long in coming. But at last, Death had to politely end it with a light cough.
"Okay, you guys," Meg said while regaining her composure. "You take care of yourselves."
"We will!" Jennifer said, as she and Death stood next to the crowd of saved souls, a soft, ethereal glow from an unseen light source, bathing them from above. "Thanks for everything, Meg! We'll never, ever forget you!"
Then an afterthought hit Meg and she quickly asked her, "Hey, Jennifer, will I ever see you again?"
"Are you kiddin'? With this country's health care system?" Death chimed in, jokingly.
"Oh, you!" Jennifer chided perkily at him, with that smile that seemed as magical and eternal as she was now, as the glow reached an illumination that made Meg shield her eyes.
Then, they were gone.
Alone in the mansion's driveway, Meg could only hear in her mind the lingering laughter of Jennifer's voice as it began to fade into the mists of a treasured memory.
"Thanks, guys," she quietly said to the stars. Then, with a deep sigh and a hard-won confidence, Megan Griffin turned around, went to her car, and drove home.