Jury Duty

Seat three, Adam Rust.
The bailiff pulls a low hinged door open and motions for me to sit in the rear. The judge continues.
“We have decided to excuse three jurors.”
Of course, because one said that she could not convict a 17 year old, another is a Ph.D. in blood pathology, and another said he cannot trust any Durham police officers. The judge tells us that this case could last more than three weeks. I do not doubt the sincerity of these stories. But they could be motivated for alterior reasons.
“Let’s move on,” says the judge.
Good, I think. There were originally 224 jurors. Now I remain among 26. A sign on the wall mocks us: unlawful for occupany of more than 82 persons.
“Does anyone know the defendant?” asks the judge.
“Yes, I do, maybe not personally, but I know him,” says a lady in seat One. “I know him from when he came into the bank at CCB. He was always writing bad checks.”
“I think we will take a recess,” says the judge.
In the jury room, we talk about missing persons in Aruba and if blind people like to go on cruises. But then juror number 8 mentions the big topic on our minds:
“That was Mrs. Too Much Information!”
True on that. Of course, CCB is hardly just any bank. They have quite a record for behavior in the community.
Only 11 of us remain when we return.

“That was untrue, what the lady said before recess,” says Judge Stephens. “Nevertheless, it could bias what you think about the defendant. And because this is such a serious crime, I am going to have to excuse all of you. Now I know that two days is a long time. It is for us, as well, to have to start over.


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