u/FuzzyDynamics

CAPTAIN PATRIOT has to LAWYER UP!

With a fresh fade, clean lines, and even a new pair of sneakers, Ulysses Spring went to meet with some lawyers.

“Mr. Spring. Ulysses Spring. Great name. American name. Like that Yankee general. I am John Heritage.”

“Great to meet you, John.”

“Now, lets get down to brass tacks, Mr. Spring. While a lot of people may be wondering what you were doing at that protest with a bunch of antifa and a loaded firearm, I only see a man exercising his God-given second amendment right and his God-given right to self-protection. I think I could help you.”

“The way I see it, Mr. Spring, is you were just out on the town. Maybe you were going down to see a honkey-tonk, maybe just out to see what all the buzz is about with that new Cheesecake Factory menu. You stop by a protest to see what is going on, a woman is threatened, sure she’s a childless lesbian, but you hear her call for help.”

“Mr. Spring. Ulysses Spring. Like our great ally from history, Ulysses S. Grant. I am Calvin Brotherton.”

“Great to meet you, Calvin.”

“Now, I want to cut to the chase, Mr. Spring. This is a great case for civil rights, Mr. Spring. You’re a white man, but those on our side of the cause for justice and equality have been playing by a different set of rules for far too damn long.”

“The way I see it, Mr. Spring. A man is watching our rights stripped away by the day. He sees the American Dream, the promise of this once great nation, slip, slip, slipping away. He watched a neo Nazi traitor like Tommy Slim walk free at the stroke of a pen. And then he’s threatened by him, on the same street he walks every day with his little dog.”

“Mr. Spring. Ulysses Spring. Like our fellow Army veteran and great general Ulysses S. Grant. I am Col. (ret) Michael Mortar.”

“Great to meet you, Michael.”

“Now, I don’t think we need to sit around all day jerking each other off, Mr. Spring. Your case is an excellent opportunity for veteran’s affairs. A hero such as yourself, Afghanistan veteran, coming home and dealing with all that you’re dealing with. PTSD, trouble integrating back into society. Maybe some ED?”

“The way I see it, Mr. Spring, a man comes home from war, the war sometimes comes home with him. A jury understands that. They want to understand that. We tell them the truth — you weren’t yourself in that alley. You were back somewhere else.”

Ulysses returned to his cell. He was in gen pop now, but still had to wear a red jumpsuit flagging him as a “special security risk.” It was kind of the worst of both worlds, but the protective custody cells were overflowed. At least, he was able to stay cell mates with Jason Vasquez.

“Man. This is some bullshit,” Vasquez said. It was near lights out. The lights didn’t actually go out, they just dimmed. Well, they didn’t really dim either. But it was when everyone had to be quiet and go to bed. “You kill some dude and lawyers start crawling out the damn walls to help you out.”

“I don’t think you’d want these lawyers,” Ulysses said.

“Shit, you say that! I’d take any lawyer! You know my PD has been disbarred in two states?”

Ulysses chuckled. “I’m sorry, man. For what it’s worth, if I get out of here, first thing I’ll do is post your bail and pay off your ticket.”

There was a stretch of silence.

“You’d do that for me? Really?”

“$1100? Yeah. That’s not even that much money.”

Another stretch of silence. “Yet here I fucking am. Ain’t that just some bullshit.”

“Yeah. Lets get some sleep. We’ll get through this.”

And Ulysses slept. He slept and slept like he hadn’t in some time. He dreamt of civil rights lawyers like Thurgood Marshall and whole crowds at a trial being captured by the terrific oratory powers of history’s great lawyers. But each dream ended the same. A great speech. Jurists wiping away tears. Journalists scribbling away feverishly. Then, he was sent to prison. A martyr for some cause. And no cause was worth his life to him but The American Cause.

The next day he woke at first light. The light neither got dimmer or brighter, but the doors buzzed. First food, then some yard time. It was nearly noon when he was sent to meet with yet another lawyer.

Ulysses waited in the small room for nearly an hour. He may or may not have fallen asleep in his chair.

The door clanged (every door in a jail clanged) open and in walked a man of medium height. He was neither fat nor thin, of fair shape for an elderly man. His white-headed hairline was too far forward and his teeth unsettlingly white, as were his shoes.

“Mr. Spring? Monty Mishegoss, pleased to meet ya,” he reached out, taking Ulysses hand in both of his and shaking it.

“Ulysses, huh? Like that Jew-hater Ulysses S. Grant?”

“He didn’t hate Jews,” Ulysses replied.

“Uh, Order 11, anyone? He named the Jews directly and sent them packing from the Department of the Tennessee.”

“Grant spent his entire political career afterwards redeeming that, including appointing over 50 Jewish people into public office and protesting the persecution of Jews in Eastern Europe. He was the first president to attend synagogue.” Ulysses looked over the lawyer one more time. “Are you even Jewish?” he said.

Monty gasped and smoothed out his jacket. “Yeah, for fuck sake, kid, my name is Monty Mishegoss!”

“That sounds made up. Like if someone were making up a ridiculous name for a Jewish lawyer.”

“Well, I’m not ethnically, technically, a Jew. Haven’t even really been keeping up with Judaism, either. More agnostic. But I grew up around a lot of Jews.”

“That sounds like you’re not Jewish.”

Monty ran a hand through his ample white hair. “Alright, lets just drop it. You’re the one on trial, kid. Or at least, you will be soon. But I got a plan.

“The way I see it, you’re a god-damn American hero. History teacher, combat veteran, white. You’re as American as Joe Camel eating Lady Liberty’s apple pie. You got threatened by some punk ass thugs and took care of business. Bam, end of story.”

Ulysses stroked the fuzz growing on his chin. “So, you think I can walk?”

Monty kicked the other chair out and sat down. “Kid, listen to me,” he leaned forward, across the metal table. “I am the god-damn Daniel Bowie, a pioneer, of getting people to walk for this type of thing.”

“Daniel Boone?”

“It doesn’t matter, kid. I’ve done this dozens of times. I pulled up to this shit County jail in a bonafide Rolls Royce, because I founded the trading post that grew into the city of god-damn Duluth of getting guys in your situation off scot-free.”

“It’s great imagery, Monty. I appreciate your time.” Ulysses rose. “Guards!”

“Wait.”

Ulysses tapped on the door. “I’m ready.”

“Wait, kid.”

The window panel slid open on the door. “What you need?”

“I’m ready to return.”

“Wait! Kid!”

Monty was grabbing hold of Ulysses. His hands were gripping, hard, the shoulders of the red jumpsuit. “Just wait a minute. Give me 30 seconds.”

Ulysses looked him over again. The absurd white hair. The white shoes. The mothball-smelling suit that at one time had probably cost a fortune.

He sighed, and sat down. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Monty spread his hands out, open palm, reconsidered, and then sat down with his hands steepled, importantly. “Listen, kid. I’ll level with you.” He took a breath. “When I said I am a pioneer of this field, I ain’t lying. For better or worse, I practically invented the art of helping cops, doctors, random white whoever’s that shot or otherwise negligently killed a brown person walking free with full pensions. Alright? I ain’t proud of it. I wish I could take some of it back. But I’ve been following your case since the night it happened. I was checking in on that protest. I saw the footage of what happened minutes after it came out. What you did -”

“I didn’t mean for that -”

“So efficient. You fuckin’ killed that guy dead, no question about it to anyone -”

“It just went too far -”

“And you know what I thought, kid? When that little prick’s neck snapped like a potato chip? I thought: good. Brah’ fuckin’ O.” He leaned in even closer. “And my second thought? This is an open and shut case. With the right lawyer. Me.”

CAPTAIN PATRIOT may have just found himself a LAWYER! Can MONTY MISHEGOSS pull it off? Tune in NEXT WEEK for another installment of CAPTAIN PATRIOT!