Read Online Jungle Rules by Charles W. Henderson - Free Book Online Page B

injustice. This morning in court, Charlie the shyster handed me my head yet again. This time he not only humiliated me, but my client, too, and he pissed squarely in the face of justice, railroading a completely innocent man, simply from the way he looks and a dirty little name that people called him behind his back. How can a human being be so cruel as to knowingly send an innocent man to prison?”
    “They do it every day,” Kirkwood said, noticing O’Connor stripping down to his T-shirt and boxer shorts, and following suit.
    “I know,” Carter said, and began choking on his words, his emotions now starting to overwhelm him. “I am such a failure at stopping it, too. That’s what I was praying about.”
    Jon Kirkwood could say nothing, seeing the stick figure of a man shuddering as grief from his loss took full charge and sent tears coursing from his pink-rimmed blue eyes.
    “Suck it up, pal,” O’Connor then muttered, tossing his dirty socks in his laundry bag and dropping it on the floor by the foot of his rack.
    “Yeah, right, suck it up,” Carter said, sobbing and wiping his wet face on his khaki shirt’s shoulder and upper sleeve. “I keep sucking it up, and Charlie Heyster keeps cheating and winning.”
    “What the hell did he do?” O’Connor said.
    “Subliminal influence and mind games for the jury,” Carter said, pulling out a yellow stained handkerchief and blowing his nose. “He cheats, and the judges let him get away with it. I object, and even when the judge sustains it, the jury is still influenced by the sideshow. He gets what he wants.”
    “You’re driving me crazy with your rhetoric,” O’Connor said, lying on his bunk and propping himself on his elbows. “Start at the point where you are in court, and give us a clue of what went on.”
    “Sorry,” Carter said, dabbing his eyes. “We began at nine o’clock this morning. My client, Lance Corporal Raymond Zelinski, rather former lance corporal, now private, was railroaded on false charges of possession of narcotics with intent to distribute, and the whole raft of typical misconduct charges they tie to such a case. None of it true.”
    “Kingfish, all my clients is innocent, don’t you know,” O’Connor said, rolling his eyes and grinning at Kirkwood, who lay on the neighboring bunk. “That’s why we’uns gots jobs as defense counsels.”
    “Calhoun the lawyer from Amos ’n’ Andy ,” Kirkwood laughed, turning on his side and looking at O’Connor. “I loved that old show. That and The Honeymooners .”
    “It’s not funny, gentlemen,” Carter said with a frown at the racial bend of O’Connor’s wisecrack. “You’ll have your turns in the tub with Heyster, and then you won’t be so jovial about it.”
    “Oh, now wait a minute there, Sapphire,” O’Connor said, his eyes still open wide as he shifted his smile to Carter.
    “You want to hear this or not?” Carter fumed, now towering over O’Connor, whose bunk sat directly across the center aisle from Carter’s.
    “Shoot, Luke,” O’Connor said, lying back. “I’m all ears.”
    “We’re a little punchy after flying twenty-three hours straight from California to Okinawa, then no sleep, and catching the predawn flight from Kadina to Da Nang,” Kirkwood said, relaxed on his bed, propped on his elbows.
    “I did the same thing,” Carter said, now taking off his uniform shirt, revealing his dingy T-shirt with yellow sweat rings staining the garment’s armpits. “I know how you feel. Wednesday departure from Norton Air Force Base, landing in Okinawa, and then Friday morning the predawn freedom bird to Da Nang.”
    “It will rot out your brain,” O’Connor said.
    “At any rate,” Carter continued, pulling off his shoes and sitting on his bed, “Raymond Zelinski is not your poster-type Marine. Like yours truly, when God passed out good looks, we were someplace else.”
    “I can count at least a dozen not so pretty Marines I saw just getting off the