chapter 12a 

(The Bail) 

Moïse Berri 

and the Reconstruction of the Haitian 

Space Agency 

by Jude Jarda 

12a 

The Bail 

Ulysses Hercules Dondedieu Legitime is trapped inside a dimly lit and poorly furnished interrogation room of the Harwood Heights police station, north of Chicago. He is constantly shaking his head, rubbing his hands together and hobbling like a defective automaton. Ulysses Hercules just found out his lawyer was currently on vacation in Grand Cayman. The laid back advocate told him over the phone that he'd send an appointed representative from the Koenig, Blake, Stetson and Sons law firm to stand by his side and bail him out of this dreadful nightmare. Mr. Legitime is now expecting the visit of that supposedly very fierce and effective apprentice within the next hour. Ulysses is clearly traumatized and shaken. The man is visibly in shock. No one seems to understand that he must wash and scrub certain objects before he can approach or touch them. It's very hard for him to conceive that he is the only man fully aware that germs are out there with one unique goal, which is to eradicate the human race. 

When that foolish and taunting officer told Ulysses Hercules he was probably going to spend the night in a cold cell, lying on a bug infested mattress, or be transferred to the state prison in the company of some really hardened criminals, the first born son of Sixte-Osmer Legitime literally stopped breathing. Because he remembered meeting Ulysses Hercules at a Town Hall fundraising last year, the police chief granted him a second phone call out of pity and compassion. Knowing his rights and the judicial system’s preferential treatment towards rich and powerful people, Ulysses Hercules managed to speak to his concubine, Berenice, the mother of his three children, and also to his brother, Achilles Hector. The conversation with his younger brother rapidly became sour. 

“Find Amaury Quick for me, Achilles. That old scrooge must have a stash of money hidden in a shoe box somewhere.” 
“Why don't you ask your wife, Edmondine? She sells one of her gigantic rocks or a pearl necklace and you’re a free man before you know it.” 
“That might not be enough, Chilles. The bitch would certainly ask for a major favour in return. I can't afford that.” 
“She is your wife, Herc, don't forget it.” 
“Only on paper, little brother.” 
“Okay then, why don't you sell one of your toys? You never went fishing with that Bayliner you bought on eBay while intoxicated. You own a dozen motorcycles and you don't even have a license to ride them. Uncle Quick won't lend you a dime. He keeps telling strangers about the Celine Dion at the Caesars ticket you never paid back to him. That was a long time ago, Herc. But the old-timer is still mad. I do have a couple of Dollars and Euros in my safe, but I need to be cautious. Who knows when our financial situation will be back to normal? What if a professional fraudster decided to target our family and suck everything we have? Justice will eventually prevail, but what if it takes them a year or two to trace the money and pay us back?” 
“The judge is asking for a hundred thousand and wants my passport on his desk ASAP.” 
“That's a lot of pesos. I mean, it's not like if you tried to hijack a plane or sent some anthrax to a Member of Congress. I can gather thirty thousand for you, right now. Take it as a gift. You won't have to repay me.” 

“You don't get it, Achilles. I need a hundred thousand right away or tonight, my ass will be used by a great number of disease carrying brutes to please themselves. I'm not going to Cook County. I don't want to lose my dignity, get beaten and be treated like a subhuman. That is not something I can mentally survive.” 
“It's probably not that bad in jail. They have trained guards in there. Their job is to protect you and maintain order.” 

“How many times have you been incarcerated, Achilles? You think you know everything because you have some invisible friends? Put yourself in my shoes like they teach you in your Holy Book. Just get me out of this place. That's what I would do for you if you were caught in that position. They won't even have to touch me over there to make me go nuts. You know about my condition, I need my environment to be ultra clean in order to breathe properly.” 
“I only have thirty thousand available, Ulysses. Don't even think about asking Vicky. Our little sister is completely broke. But you still got Mom. She piles up can food in her basement during hurricane season, so she probably does the same with cash.” 
“Mother gets on my nerves. She always takes my stupid wife's word for gold. She's going to ask me a ton of questions, believing I've been arrested for domestic violence. I cannot handle any additional stress right now. Pull me out of that gutter if you love me, Chilles.” 
“Don't do that, Herc. I told you I don't have that much liquid cash at the moment. Don't forget I'm a victim of that computer meltdown mess too.” 
“Sell some of your shit to the first buyer.” 
“It's not that easy. It's Friday... my wife is out shopping, completely unaware of the situation...” 
“Save me or we are not brothers anymore.” 
“Come on, Ulysses, no need to blackmail me. You don't need to go that low. We'll find a solution.” 
“Are you saying that you are somehow more important than me?” 
“What are you talking about, are you on drugs or what?” 
“So, now, I'm a junkie. What's next? Are you acting like a jerk out of revenge over my conduct on last Thanksgiving? Your problem is that money drove you to put yourself above the average Joe. The fact that you are religious makes you think that you're special and way above the rest of us. It makes you feel that you are somehow not part of the people. Unfortunately, Achilles, sometimes the common people you despise so much can be part of your own family. Do you read me, my nigger?” 
“I will hang up the phone now, Ulysses. You should get someone to check your sugar level. Lord, have mercy on me. Did you really call me a nigger?” 
“You better stay on the phone and tell me when the money will be ready. I'm not playing. If you don't save my butt, I'll come back from the dead. When you least expect it, I'll show up at one of your sermon and give you a whipping in front of the docile sheep that take you for Elie. Come to think of it, maybe we should ask the members of your church to chip in. How many are they? We can even make a profit out of this.” 

“Goodbye, Ulysses.” 

“Achilles? Achilles Hector!” 

The jurist from Koenig, Blake, Stetson and Sons finally arrives at the police station to rescue Ulysses Hercules. The jubilant and sprightly-looking gentleman man is a skinny redhead with a bad set of teeth. Ulysses Hercules takes a quick look at the lawyer's shoes, belt, briefcase and nails. He concludes that Tobias H. Koenig sent him a sophomoric and incompetent novice. The attorney's overcoat is impregnated with a smell of polish sausage and fresh mustard and relish are all over his white shirt. Without the tailor made British suit, the Rolex watch on his wrist and the wedding ring on his finger, thinks Ulysses Hercules, that tenderfoot looks no different from the adolescent lifeguard working at my youngest son's day camp. 

“Are you even old enough to vote?” Ulysses Hercules asks on a sarcastic tone, obviously full of spite and very bitter. “I was hoping to meet an experienced pleader, not a damn rookie. Who the hell are you?” 

“Arthur Shane Thibodaux at your service, Mr. Legitime. The number of winter solstices I've spent naked on peyotl in Stonehenge doesn't matter. Hey! hey! just teasing you, tss-tss; an inside joke on the nature of your charges. What matters is the fact that I am the best lawyer in the State of Illinois. I'm from Church Point, Louisiana, by the way; Cajun on my father's side and Chitimacha on my mother's. I speak a little bit of French, just like you. We're like cousins. Ha! ha! I'm here to represent you in the name of Alistair Stetson, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do. Sure, I look young and don't shave everyday. I can read the fear in your eyes. But don't you worry; my background is carved in stone. Law school from Yale, MBA at Stanford; my doctorate in commerce from Darmouth was published and stayed on the New York Times best-selling list for well over six months. I also teach at Cornell. What do you want? The boy likes to travel. What am I doing? I'm sorry. Enough about me, let's talk about you. That's my main weakness. I talk too much about myself. I'm working on it, trust me, or it's going to be sayonara wife and kids and half of your money. Ha! ha! The client comes first. Now, I'll be brief, you are in deep shit, Mr. Legitime. You have no idea how smelly and thick it is. But why am I called Mister Fixer at the office? Because I fix things. That's right. Driving under the influence? We can deal with that. Your spouse probably has a legal prescription; and your butler brought you the stuff. How clean is that Mexican dude? Is he even legal? How long have you known that Guillermo? There was clearly no intent from your part. You'll get out of that one with a fine. Add a small check to any institution that helps drug addicts kick their habit, and you become a state hero overnight. The driver of the school bus said that you tried to run over her twice with the car, but I've got two witnesses who swore that you lost conscience right after the first blow to your head by the police officer. I made some research. That cop has been under investigation twice in five years by his peers; and that lady is a lawsuit freak. She's suing three national corporations based in Illinois, an insurance company from Kentucky and several car dealers located in the State of Indiana. She is also bringing her next door neighbors to Justice for not keeping their Pit Bull under a leash. I've heard she owns twelve cats. You know what they say about cat ladies. There's no way she's passing the mental with the shrink I'm recommending.” 

“Does that mean I can go home?” 

“Let's not forget about the loaded six-chambered revolver, Mr. Legitime.” 

“What revolver? Oh, yes, the damn gun… that thing belongs to my sales director. I'm pretty sure they won't find my prints on that stupid firearm, simply because I never touched it.” 

“The State Attorney maintains that the same weapon was used in a robbery near Forest Park last month. It was all over the news. A security guard got shot: Dickie Penske. Does it ring a bell? That's not good, not good at all. That old man is a local star. He is a war vet and a very well-liked member of his community. Minor league baseball and the Shriners Hospital owe him big time for his support and fundraising capabilities.” 

“Let's cut to the chase, comrade. How long do I have to wait before you fix all this mess?” 

“You don't have to wait, Mr. Legitime. Our law firm is like heavy artillery down here. We obtain what we ask for or many heads will fall. Now, did you succeed in collecting your bail out money?” 

“Just ask your boss to lend it to me. I didn't want to go this route to protect my reputation, but I have no choice. Tobias Koenig and Spencer T. Blake are long time business partners. They know how much I’m worth. They'll keep their mouths shut about the whole incident.” 

“I was told by many about your social status and fortune at the office, Mr. Legitime. You are one of our most respected clients. You will be out of here in no time, we're talking Monday morning, top.” 

“Are you out of your mind, you piece of crap?” Ulysses Hercules shouts. “You ludicrous orange skull dullard. You must be fucking mad. I am not sleeping on these beds. Do I make myself clear? You want me to get bitten all weekend long by bugs bigger than my thumb? Ulysses Hercules Dondedieu Legitime will not use the same shower those animals use for a private urinal. Many diseases can enter a man's system through his feet. Did you learn that in law school, smart ass? Those savages eat food with their contaminated hands all the time. They do this knowingly! And when they’re done, they lick their fingers and clean their plates using their tongue or whatever they can grab. Those monsters also drink tap water by pressing their lips directly on the faucet. Some of them have worms in their intestines; you should smell the ambient air right after one them farts. The oxygen becomes visible. Flies tumble and die right in front of you. You'd think a skunk was buried alive, stressed out and then dug out. I've seen one of them defecate on the floor because the waiting line for the restroom was too long. None of them knows about the ABC of hand hygiene and the existence of microbes and germs. But guess what? The first gesture that comes to the mind of these loathsome dingoes, when they make eye contact with you, is to offer you a solid handshake, ignoring the fact that their hands hold more piss and feces then the toilet bowl itself. If you politely refuse to greet them for personal health concerns and common sense, you’re automatically labeled a snitch. Close your eyes one tenth of a second and seven of them surround you with a bunch of do-it-yourself cutting tools, broom sticks and home-made blades. Tell me how in the world, a man can carry two double D batteries inside the jail of a police station, if it is not hidden all the way up his rectum? I want out of here, right away, Thibodaux. Do you hear me? This is not negotiable!” 

“Calm down, Mr. Legitime. There must be a bank open on Saturdays. I'll go get the money myself, first thing in the morning. I promise. My golf foursome with the boys can wait. I would lend you the money right now if I could reach my broker and financial adviser.” 

“You don't seem to understand, you stupid ape!” Ulysses Hercules yells, seizing the young attorney by the collar and shaking him back and forth. “I won't be alive if we wait until sunrise. If I get transferred to Cook County tonight, they're going to execute me, plain and simple. I don't want to catch leprosy or the pneumonic plague while I'm there. Do you know what one of them said to me when he learned that I was identified as a rat by another inmate? The whiffy hog swore he'd put a test tube up my butt and infect me with some unknown illness as soon as I'd fall asleep. Sleeping is inevitable, Thibodaux! Do you get it? Can you measure the weight of the situation I'm in? These motherfuckers think I'm a paid informant. That's the last thing you want to be called in this hellhole. Do you understand everything I'm saying, you pathetic inbred primate? Get me out of here, right now!” 

“I can't breathe, Mr. Legitime. You need to relax.” 

“Shut up, you prick! I'm leaving the station with you or I'll tear your jugular vein with my own teeth. I'm going to suck the iron from your blood, make a dagger out of it, and then stab you in the throat with the fucking thing. Aaaaargh!” 

“Guards! Open the door, my client is insane! Help!”