Precipitant

Precipitant

David Russell

Word Count 1,188

In a packed court room, the presiding Judge asked the jury foreman to announce their verdict. The Defendant was being tried for a supposed misdeed.

Your Honor, we have reached our verdict, and find the Defendant not guilty.”

The previous winter had been freezing cold and one marked with below-normal temperatures across Western New York. Howard, age sixty-eight, had lived with his wife Nancy for forty-two years, she was sixty-six. Nancy had suffered from chronic illness for the previous six years. On a frigid Sunday evening, they were watching television when suddenly Nancy had onset of chest pain.

“Howard, damn it all! Call 9-1-1 for me, hurry!”

“For what reason?”

“Chest pain,” she struggled to say. She pressed her chest cavity with both hands.

Howard picked up his smart-phone and moments later spoke her request into the phone.

“Thank you, the door will be unlocked,” he said.

A few minutes later all was quiet aside from the program on television. One of the characters on the program exclaimed, “You did it now didn’t you?”

Howard was a bit surprised at the timing of the statement heard and what had occurred at home. Nancy was deceased.

Howard went to the refrigerator, removed a can of soda, returned to his recliner and mentally reviewed his plan.

He and his wife were both on fixed incomes due to a life-long disability. Utilities seemed to only rise in cost, and he viewed their quality of life as poor. Paying bills meant taking few trips, international vacations were dreams, investing in life luxuries were seldom.. The game was Survival, and it seemed to occur daily in his mind.

An hour later two police officers sat across from Howard in well-used barrel chairs in the living room. Nancy’s body had been removed by paramedics after it was determined she was indeed deceased.

Officer Brennan said, “Tell me and Officer Kellerman exactly what happened one more time.”

“It’s simple gentlemen. I killed my wife and am turning myself in. You have my word and thus an open-and-shut case.” Officer Kellerman sighed. He doubted Howard’s recollection.

“How did you kill her?” Officer Brennan asked.

“With my own two hands,” he said. He denied choking her, fighting her, suffocating her, ignoring her. The autopsy revealed no physical harm had occurred to Nancy Sims that would result in fatality. Heart attack was the medical reason for her death.

“Aren’t you going to arrest me?” Howard asked.

“The Officers took Howard to the precinct, discussed matters with the Chief, and held him for arraignment that would occur Monday afternoon.

It was decided to place Howard in the local hospital Psychiatric unit until his trial would conclude. He was sticking to his story.

To entertain himself, Howard was given a special digital book player by the County Library, so he could listen to recorded books via a pen drive inserted into the unit. He liked books by James Michener and Wallace Stegner. Four titles were downloaded for him that would come to nearly forty hours of listening.

He engaged in group therapy daily, chapel services on Sunday, and participated in rounds of Trivial Pursuit much like the game Jeopardy.

Howard’s case received national attention. Did he kill his wife? Was it a misdeed that he only was alleged to call 9-1-1? Or, did he even call for emergency services? This the debated question in cafes, talk shows, friendly gatherings, etc. Any wrongdoing would be a question of one’s values once the truth was apparent. He could not be convicted of a crime per se. Her life ended when predetermined by act of God, or so it seemed. This matter was left to a jury of twelve persons to decide.

The truth came out when Howard took the stand and all including his Lawyer, were baffled.

“I ask you a second time, tell the court how you killed your wife, Nancy?” The Prosecutor asked.

“With my two hands,” Howard said. A collective murmur arose, which the Judge countered with his gavel.

“Please go on, Mr. Sims,” the Judge stated.

“My wife asked me to call EMS,” he said. I paused before picking up my phone and speaking into it. She thought I called them to place an emergency order; I didn’t.” At this, the response required a few minutes to quell.

“Objection,” stated the Defense Attorney.

“On what grounds?”

“Witness is being led to make things up.”

“Objection over-ruled. The truth is what we are after here,” the Judge stated.

“So, you feel by not calling 9-1-1 you are responsible for your wife’s death?” The Prosecutor asked.

“Yes sir, that is exactly it.”

A silence filled the courtroom for a few moments. The HVAC was the only sound heard by all attending.

The Judge noted the time to be 2:55 p.m. He instigated adjournment and the trial would go to the jury the next morning.

“We will resume this trial tomorrow morning, 9:30 sharp,” he announced and dismissed all attending.

Dismissed for deliberation, the jury took two hours to arrive at their decision. One said, “Howard wants a free ride.”

Another added, “his behavior toward Nancy in my mind was unethical, put the bastard away.” A third juror said with tears streaming down her face, ”Wopn’t incarceration relieve him of any responsibilities to take care of himself? He tried to orchestrate an outcome in my estimation.”

This juror’s position was soon shared by the entire group. Though Howard did not directly kill his wife, he indirectly may have caused her death in faking the call to 9-1-1. No visible record true, and what happened behind closed doors evidently stayed behind closed doors.

Before lunch, the jury presented their verdict to the Judge and all concerned. Howard was pronounced not guilty.

Suddenly, the courtroom erupted in collective voices that expressed their feelings about the case or other matters of self-importance.

Howard Sims, defendant, had a stunned expression and felt for certain his outcome would have been that which he desired. His attorney shook his hand offering congratulations on the case that didn’t go as he favored.

The Judge directed Howard to continue treatment for two additional weeks. He then voluntarily entered care at a local assisted living facility.

His home was sold, furnishings sold online through a Marketplace, and generated proceeds went toward his ongoing care.

Perhaps a twist of fate, one year later, he married one of the facility aides. Rita was a forty-something attractive woman who enjoyed knitting, reading, and viewing Jeopardy. Howard continued to reside at the facility, while she lived nearby and was supported in part by a check he received for military service from the V.A. Howard had been injured during the Gulf War in the early 1990s.

In a statement he made during a nationally televised interview Howard surmised, “I gave my first wife what she deserved from the moment we agreed at the altar. I’m giving my second wife what she deserves: financial help in life, a place to hang her coat, and

continued work to care for me here at the assisted care facility. So, what misdeed was Performed? You decide.”

End