Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover by Ogden
(See author's notes below if you're curious about any ambiguity in the story's ending.) |
I had to help when, on a stormy evening, I saw the wind whip two shopping bags from an old woman’s hands, scattering groceries everywhere. Her car was parked nearby, and she thanked me profusely as I retrieved about a hundred items, refilled the bags, and loaded them into her unlocked trunk. Suddenly, two policemen appeared out of nowhere, read me my rights, handcuffed me as I protested indignantly, and hauled me off to jail. “Tell it to the judge!” were the last words I heard as my cell door slammed shut. My court-appointed attorney informed me before the proceedings, the old woman wouldn’t be at my trial. He also said the car had been identified as stolen, and wasn’t the property of the woman. And that he was stuck with a weak case. Because of her advanced age and various, conveniently obvious infirmities, the woman was permitted to testify in absentia, from the comfort of a hotel bed, with a court reporter recording her shaky, elderly-voiced contention that while crossing the street, coming from church, she witnessed me, a total stranger, dropping two bagsfull of groceries, and frantically hiding them in the trunk of a car. The officers testified they observed me hurriedly gathering and placing the robbed groceries in the stolen car, and were permitted to advise the court of my complaining attitude when placed under arrest. My own testimony was discredited by the judge, who found me guilty of all charges, admonishing me for trying to blame my felony on a God-fearing old lady. He scheduled my sentencing for the following week. The old woman, feeling much better, checked out, and apparently returned to from wherever she came. I was released the next day, my conviction invalidated, and an adage given credibility, “No good deed goes unpunished.”
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