Read Online The Man Who Wouldn't Stand Up by Jacob M. Appel - Free Book Online Page B

warm, shadowy room felt like a government building in Havana. White bands of cigarette smoke still floated on the stagnant air. Arnold considered phoning Judith for a second time. But what would he say? That he’d suddenly realized the world was an outrageously unreasonable place? Then he couldn’t apologize because he was standing up for Sacco and Vanzetti. He knew Judith. She was far too practical—too reasonable—for all that. He didn’t phone. Instead, he flipped on the television.
    They were conducting another interview, this time with a nasal-voiced young attorney from the American Civil Liberties Union. “We’re not in the business of forcing ourselves on people,” she said. “If Mr. Brinkman would like to retain our services, this is certainly the sort of case we’d take a serious look at. But that’s entirely up to him. Trust me, there’s no shortage of work for us these days.” Arnold flipped to another station. Spotty Spitford was speaking to a different reporter, demanding that the mayor and the governor condemn “this insult to our boys in uniform.” On a third channel, the governor’s spokesman explained that Yankee Stadium was a private venue and that the Yankees were certainly entitled to ban Mr. Brinkman from future events. He hadn’t voted for the governor—infact, he despised the governor—but if the governor could get him banished from Yankee stadium forever, that would be enough to earn his vote.
    Arnold changed stations one final time and found himself watching cartoons. The roadrunner charged off a cliff; the coyote followed. Then the coyote looked down. But the coyote halted mid-plummet as the broadcast switched to a “Breaking News” bulletin.
    Suddenly, he was watching the front of his own house again. This time, the door opened. Cameras snapped; protesters chanted. Gilbert Card stepped out into sunlight. The immigration attorney wore a modest pinstriped suit and carried an attaché case. When he raised his hand, like the Pope blessing St. Peter’s, the crowd went silent. Then Gilbert stepped to the edge of the porch and read from a prepared statement.
    “My name is Gilbert Card. I am a spokesman for the Brinkman family.”
    Someone shouted a question at the lawyer.
    “Card. C-A-R-D. I’m an attorney with Willoughby & Throop.”
    “Willoughby. W-I-L-L-O-U-G-H-B-Y,” he said. “And Throop. T-H-R-O-O-P.”
    When the onlookers quieted down, Gilbert continued.
    “First, let me thank you all for being here. These are difficult times for our nation and especially for New York City, where we live in the perpetual shadow of the horrorsof September 11 th . That is what makes Mr. Brinkman’s behaviour at yesterday’s Yankees game all the more unfortunate. I’ve known Arnold Brinkman for thirty years and nobody is more sorry about what happened yesterday than he is. He did not mean to show disrespect to anyone, least of all to our heroes in the armed forces. Mr. Brinkman has been under a lot of stress recently. As difficult as it may be for many people to understand, he thought he was doing something patriotic by refusing to stand. He now recognizes how mistaken he was and apologizes wholeheartedly.” Gilbert looked up at the audience. “Thank You,” he concluded. “God Bless America.”
    A murmur of approval spread through the crowd. Shouts of “Amen!” and “Hallelujah!” drowned out the journalists’ follow-up questions. The two protesters clad in Revolutionary War garb struck up a festive duet on their fife and drum.
If you’re just joining us from an affiliate station
, the fast-talking reporter explained,
the so-called Tongue Traitor has apologized
… Arnold flipped the channel.
    “—
and we’re getting breaking news of an apology from the Tongue Traitor
—
    “—
so I asked, when exactly would you perform CPR on a fish?
—”
    “—
Traitor’s attorney has issued a plea for forgiveness
—”
    “—
disguised as an onion
—”
    “—
actually said,