The show trial's second day started with Earl's statement. It wasn't at all what a ticket-paying audience wanted to hear. They weren't interested in a factual account about the attempted lynching. Or that Herschel admitted to taking the chickens. But they had no patience for his opinion that the p-word incident with Geraldine was nothing but a random bump in the night.
"Ya're takin' tha pish marshal," someone yelled, along with scattered hooting.
Yet, it wasn't until he retold Herschel's theory of ownership that tempers hit their boiling-point. It started with a low murmur. People couldn't grasp what they heard. Had the weirdo claimed farmers couldn't own chickens? As they confirmed each other's confirmation bias the situation escalated. It was nearing a full-blown riot before the Bailiffs, backed up by Earl and Rascal, got the situation under control. In the end, two-thirds of the audience got barred for the rest of the day. A bit more than average, but it was all a part of that authentic Stagna trial experience.
Charlene knew it wasn't Da's intention to turn justice into entertainment. Still, his remaining participation provided another strained moment. The white-haired man from the day before — who Charlie'd found out was Ralph Traaker — kept interrupting with loud coughs. They covered words like something-lover. The muffled snickering of the group around him made it worse. Even so, Earl took it in stride. Then, in the blink of an eye, his expression darkened. She turned to look what could've had such an impact. The man had his gnarled hand up behind his head, pulling on an imaginary rope with his tongue hanging out.
"I wouldna like ta meet Da alone if I wus that lynchin' gobshite," she muttered.
For a second she thought Earl might jump the fence and go after the old-timer, but he regained his cool and not much more happened that day. As the third morning of trial started, the place was buzzing. Herschel was seen as the kind of smart that was dumb enough to get roped into a full confession. But she knew, in his calm way, he'd only admit to what he considered to be true. Which was almost as bad, it could go no way but arseways. It would put the final knot of public opinion in his noose.
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Everyone was over-excited for the trial's main event, the heckling of the guilty. Officially, no outside food or drink was allowed. Eggs and rotten crops were sold at the door. Even so, most smuggled in their own. Family recipes for boggy chucking stuff were closely guarded secrets. But before things had a chance to start flying, something strange happened.
"No one should 'ave to confess in fear," Bres stated from his lofty seat.
He went on to explain, that due to the lynching attempt he would have to hear Herschel's testimony in private. Coming from their judge it was almost a sound argument. It made Charlie suspect there might be fair-play involved. But the decision was not well received. People'd paid for a full day of trial. Also, the crowd made it clear they weren't happy about Bres blaming the poor Fenmark boys for his lily-livered judging. To no one's surprise, Bres caved under the public pressure but he was angry as a hornet with heat-stroke. Jumping in his seat and banging his gavel for silence, his comb-over wafted about like a straw-hat in an autumn storm.
"Since there'll only be 'alf a day of trial--" he paused, looking like he was about to be sick. "The payment for the other 'alf' will be refunded."
As Bres and Herschel left the courtroom, the congregation stood with a disappointed moaning. Earl turned to look at Ralph, giving him a mocking wink. And Charlene wrapped her arms around him from the side, hugging with all her might.
After the break. The execution's case, like the injustice cookie it was, started to crumble. Charlie found it a gas, Bres was arguing against the same thing he'd argued for only a day earlier. He'd been on the side of the execution as much as anyone, but now he was playing defence. A few others appreciated the lack of gallows humour in this display, but most hadn't come to see a trial where both sides were fairly represented. They wanted their heckling, their scapegoating, and their hanging.
Since they were denied the chance with Herschel, it wasn't long before Bres got his. Whenever he contradicted himself, it brought on taunting chants. Sir full-stomach the half-arsed, Bres the soft-hearted, and judge spineless, echoed off the bare wooden walls. Calling for order, but getting little, he announced he would study the evidence alone that evening. So, judgement was postponed until tomorrow. It'd be announced at noon on Hein-day, on the courthouse stairs.