“Do you have any more evidence, Mr. Mitchell?” the judge said sternly. Barnabas was staring down at his notes when he lifted his head and made eye contact with the judge. Her eyes were narrow, and her jaw was clenched.
He was trying her patience. Barnabas didn’t have any more evidence, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit defeat. It was his twenty-seventh trial.
He had lost cases before, but this loss was going to be particularly bitter. Barnabas was standing in the middle of Judge Alice Kruger’scourtroom. She was a federal district judge for the United States District Court for the Northern District of Illinois. The courtroom ceilings were a full twenty feet high. The carpet was plush, the chairs padded, and the
walls paneled with red oak. The courtroom was fully automated with state-of-the-art technology. Halfway up the wall, where a jury would usually sit, hung eight oil paintings of federal judges that had previously
presided over this courtroom. They were all men. Each of them mimicked Judge Kruger’s stern expression. Even the retired and dead judges were displeased.
Barnabas believed that it would be a long time before he appeared in front of Judge Kruger again. He had no other cases pending in federal court. After this trial, he would be back representing clients who could barely afford to pay his fees. He had managed his finances in the past,and he knew he would manage them in the future. That was only a minor
The case involved an invention that both sides agreed was worth in excess of 500 million dollars. Barnabas was convinced that the invention belonged to his client, but he had not been able to prove it. While he had been tempted to blame the sad condition of his case on the judge, Barnabas knew he would rule the same way. She really had no choice but to decide against him. Barnabas had learned that no trial lawyer had every ruling voice. “Mr. Mitchell, do you have any more evidence?”
Barnabas had just gotten back to the point that he had started to believe in God again. Why did God make his life so difficult? Why did it seem as if life was so easy for others? When he was a child, his mother bribed him to memorize Bible verses, and for some reason, he had remembered, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” He didn’t believe that now, and he didn’t think he ever would. He had one last Hail Mary, and he might as well throw it. Although
he knew that Judge Kruger would not be pleased, it was the only thing he had left.
“Your Honor, may I approach the bench?”
You may purchase this book at: https://www.amazon.com/Yoke-Darrell-Dunham/dp/1612445004
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