The charge: Insanity
Details of offence: Moving from the Bahamas to Barrhead
The plea: Guilty with an explanation
There is a hush in the court as the prosecutor pats a hefty pile, points to the dock and begins outlining his case.
“Today we have a most unusual matter, one for which I find no precedent. The defendant stands accused of a most grievous affront to human intelligence and decency, He has defied logic, sense, reason …”
Judge: “Yes, yes. Just tell us what he did!”
The prosecutor coughs, tugs his lapels and scans the press bench.
“He engaged … how should I put it, M’lud? … in a most nefarious exchange. To wit, he traded year-round sunshine, 80 degrees temperatures, beaches, palm trees, mangoes, coconuts, conch salad, conch fritters, the fragrant scent of frangipanis on a sultry tropical evening, the whisper of waves on spotless, silver sun-kissed sand, the variegated ocean colours during a faded sun …”
Judge: “Oh for Heaven’s sake. Traded for what?”
Prosecutor: “For Canada, M’lud. He traded the Bahamas for Barrhead, Alberta. He traded 80 degrees for -20, -40 even.”
A murmur among the gallery, then whispering.
“What did they say he did?” … “Came from Bahamas? Surely not.”
The judge raps his hammer.
“Silence!”
The first prosecution witness arrives, a U.S. immigration officer at Nassau’s Lynden Pindling International Airport.
Prosecutor: “When you saw the defendant preparing to leave the Bahamas in shorts and T-shirt, what did you tell him?”
Immigration officer: “I expressed my amazement, sir. He asked me whether I would do what he was doing and I replied ‘no sir, I would not’.’’
The second witness, Councillor Darrell Troock, is sworn in.
Prosecutor: “When you heard the defendant’s crime … ahem, alleged crime … what did you tell the county council?”
Troock: “I said he must be certifiable.”
Tittering in the gallery, the judge’s hammer descends again.
The day drags as friends of the accused, former colleagues, the Pembina Hills Regional Division board of trustees and assorted strangers troop to the witness stand and deliver their single word testimony: mad. Sometimes two words: totally mad.
Finally the judge turns to the dock: “Speak wretch. And speak well.”
And so the bald, ashen-faced, trembling wretch speaks.
“From Bahamas to Barrhead … it’s not a well-worn path, I agree. You talk of insanity and indecency, but what about kindness?
“Since arriving in Barrhead I have been overwhelmed by the best in human nature, from the Paddle River Golf club giving me a steak dinner to Pembina Court residents letting me play on their new pool table, from the Photo Club secretary offering me a photography lesson to the IGA cashier who never forgets my face or voice. From the Leader staff helping me find furniture and providing me with bedding to the Post Office man treating me as if we had always been friends. And, oh yes, the Pembina Hill School Division board also allowed me to sit at their table and take lunch. Chicken and a most appetizing dessert, your worship.
“Yes I loved the Bahamas, I love Bahamians, I loved working as a sub-editor at the national daily, The Tribune, I love beaches and sunshine, but I also love being here in this very pretty town. I love forests, I love the open landscape, I love four seasons.
“It will be cold, just how cold I will soon discover, but surely the warmth of human kindness is far more powerful than a sunbeam on a summer’s day.”
The judge takes off his spectacles and dabs his eyes.
“And where were you before the Bahamas?”
“In Bermuda, sir.”
The judge shakes his head.
“A most unusual case indeed, unprecedented to be sure. I have listened carefully to both sides and am persuaded the defendant is probably mad, but not for the reasons stated by the prosecution. Sir, you are free to go, but wrap up well. Buy yourself a toque.”
Case dismissed. Psychiatric evaluation recommended.
