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Excerpts Of Morlandia by Nobody: 11:08pm On Dec 11, 2016 |
Hey guys! I'm going to be posting random excerpts of a story that is still a work in progress and I would appreciate your feedback/input/comments. Thanks. 1 Like |
Re: Excerpts Of Morlandia by Nobody: 11:24pm On Dec 11, 2016 |
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Re: Excerpts Of Morlandia by Nobody: 11:26pm On Dec 11, 2016 |
Petra Birkoff was a tall and regally built woman in her thirties. There was nothing fragile about her square shoulders and determined jaw. And one would never be tempted to undermine her once they looked into those steely eyes even if she didn’t have arms. She took the witness stand and answered Nhlolanti’s questions measuredly. “Miss Birkoff do you have any experience with newborns?” “No. But doesn’t every first time mother make her first experience with a newborn with her first child? Unless, of course, she were a nurse.” “With all due respect Miss Birkoff, there are underlying concerns given your peculiar situation” Nhlolanti stated. “Yes. I have had the misfortune of being pre-judged for my condition - the absence of my arms - my whole life. But I have always risen to the challenge. My mother abandoned me as an infant because she didn’t have the strength to deal with the challenges of raising a disabled child. So I grew up in an orphanage until I was legally emancipated. No foster home would have me, as you would imagine. So, I learned early on that I had to work really hard to be independent and be a minimal bother to people. Without arms. I focused on my brains and lower limbs. And my heart. You’ve read my credentials and I’m very proud of what I have achieved. The adversity that I’ve had to deal with has taught me a lot and I feel like I now have so much to give. And I am not asking to be given any special treatment. I appreciate the sensitivity of this case because children are so important. But if I believed for a second that I would endanger a child with my disability, I would not be here making this petition. Your honor with your permission, I’d like to demonstrate what I have taught myself to do with my feet.” “Don’t let me stop you” Daphy gave her leave. Nhlolanti pulled out a diaper bag and a carry-cot with an effigy of a baby in it from underneath the table and placed them by the witness stand. Petra Birkoff sat on the floor and edged of her pumps. She flexed her feet and used them to unzip the diaper bag, pull out a quilt which she spread on the floor, then she placed diaper, wet-wipes, baby oil and powder strategically on the blanket. She pulled the carry cot close and carried out the baby with both feet. She placed it gently on the blanket, caressing its head with her foot. She then began to deftly change its diapers. She did it so efficiently that it was impossible to believe that feet were not actually made for this exact purpose. When she was done. She stood up, lifted the carry-cot with her foot and wedged the handle beneath her chin carrying it back to the witness table. “You’re an extraordinary woman, Miss Birkoff” Daphy remarked, “But we need you back in the witness stand if you would be so kind.” Birkoff obliged. “Counselor, your witness I presume.” Simmons seemed to contemplate his decision. “Miss Birkoff….. I commend you on your ability to conquer these……. debilitating circumstances. You are a genuine success story. However, we cannot ignore that valid concerns remain. What if there’s an emergency, a fire? How do you get yourself and the baby out of the house quickly enough?” “I am extremely organized, Mr. Simmons” Birkoff stated patiently, “I keep emergency kits ready to go. I have home surveillance and alarms. And as I have shown the court here today, I am really quick on my feet too.” Simmons blushed. “Counselor?” Daphy enquired. “Nothing further, your honor” “And I imagine that the plaintiff rests?” “We do so rest, your honor.” Nhlolanti affirmed. “All right then, brief recess! We’ll reconvene in fifteen minutes and I’ll give my decision.” Fifteen minutes was just about enough time to grab a coffee from the percolator in the hallway. Nhlolanti hurriedly shoved her files into her briefcase. “Are you in the mood for some horrible coffee?” she asked Birkoff. “I think I would prefer to just wait here if you don’t mind” “Alright, I won’t be long.” Nhlolanti was starving. Anything hot that hit the floor of her grumbling belly would surely quieten it for a while. Until she was able to break for lunch. She found the coffee machine and filled a Styrofoam cup with the black putrid liquid. “That thing is poison” Calloway Simmons remarked as he ambled leisurely towards her. “You should know better.” “Well, we will all die someday” she muttered. “If you’re going to die from a drink of coffee, let it at least be worth it.” He handed her his flask containing coffee that he had brewed at home. “Now, this I certainly cannot trust” “Try it. And weep with delight” “Weep with delight, seriously? What kind of women have you been fucking?” she poured out his coffee and gulped it up greedily. “Are you being serious right now? What kind of person does not know how to relish an awesome brew?” “You’re actually right. This is outstanding, Cal.” “Yes. I consider myself a maestro of sorts when it comes to coffee.” “Then you already know what you’re going to do when you realize you’re wasting your time with the law.” “Hmmm.” Simmons mused, “Judge Monroe is going to be back any minute now. Are you feeling confident?” “Yes, I am.” “Well, you should. The Judge was teary eyed over that stunt you pulled.” “A stunt? A woman shows you what she can do and you call it a stunt?” “You know as well as I do that it is a big risk allowing Birkoff to bear a child” “There are always risks involved when people bear children. Any people. Why should she be denied the opportunity? Look at her desire! She should be allowed to choose for herself if she is prepared to make the necessary commitment.” “Is that what this is about for you? Choice?” Nhlolanti was suddenly distracted by the News on the flat screen in the hallway. The volume was tuned very low so she couldn’t hear what was being said. But she didn’t particularly care about that. She was paying attention to the anchor. Abram Akoba of the Galaxy News. His face was not conventionally handsome but he exuded an intelligence and determination that held his audience captivated. His hands – Nhlolanti always noticed hands – were big and nimble and capable. And dynamic even when they were at rest. “Isn’t that your boyfriend?” Simmons observed. Nhlolanti had met Abram at an African fund raiser six summers ago. She had known who he was and she had had something of a crush on him. But she wasn’t going to drool all over him. She was determined to be cool. And so the evening had worn on and she was certain her pride and lack of creativity would rob her of the opportunity to finally meet him. “Shrimp fried rice. No onions please” she had told the waiter who had come to take her order. “Onions. No shrimp fried rice for me please” Abram had said to the waiter as he sat at her table without asking to. “Meet cute?” he asked hopefully. “Very cute” she agreed, “Bluebeard’s eighth wife.” He had exhaled in exaggerated relief, “Good. I was worried you thought I came up with that terrible line all by myself. Thankfully you watch old movies. Hi, I am Abram Akoba” He stretched out his hand to her in greeting. She knew he had only meant to introduce himself but the way he said his name - the confidence he exuded – it seemed like he was bragging about his personality and she was tempted to say: well, good for you! But, instead, she shook his hand. “Nhlolanti Cyril” “I’d kill for you to say that again” He was rewarded with the sound of laughter. They had spent an evening of easy conversation and light-hearted banter as though they had been acquainted with one another for years. And then, although she had cautioned herself against it, several cocktails later, she had found herself in his home… “Hey, Judge is back!” Simmons interrupted her reverie. As expected, Daphy Monroe ruled in favor of the plaintiff. She held that her physical disability was not reason enough to be overly skeptical of Birkoff’s capabilities as a mother when she had proven herself to be so resourceful in the past. She asked the State to proceed with the necessary examinations to qualify her, without prejudice, for a parenting license. “Thank you.” Birkoff said to Nhlolanti. “You did it.” Nhlolanti pointed out, “And it’s no less than you deserve.” “I’m going to give it all that I have, I won’t let you down. I promise” “I know you won’t.” she smiled, “You still have to go through the licensing exams, though, so good luck with that. I sincerely wish you the best with everything” “Thank you. Take care of yourself” Birkoff said as she turned towards the exit. “Well, you got your decision.” Simmons said, “Congratulations” “Thank you” Nhlolanti replied. “I sincerely hope it’s one for the wall of ……fame?” “It’s a hall” “We’ll see about that” he said as turned to leave. “Cal?” “Yeah?” “It is about choice.” ***** Nhlolanti maintained a strong conviction that all individuals should be allowed to keep jurisdiction over their own bodies. It was essential to their freedom; and the right to be free was an incontrovertible human right. Yet, the government had challenged it. |
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