“My water broke,” black haired and petite Poteet rolled off the wet bed mattress with a smile. “Get up, Howe! My water broke. The baby’s coming.” The first day of the week with hot weather, at 7:07 am, she waddled around the bed frame and then dressed in a fresh dress, slipping on a pair of flip-flops. Her body was swollen from nine months and two weeks of unborn baby and tons of baby fluid.
Howe rolled off the wet bed mattress with a grunt and dashed ahead, slamming a face into the tall furniture piece that held his clothes, back stepping with a chuckle, quickly dressing. “I’m ready. I’m getting dressed. I’m so excited.”
“I’m dressed and waddling to the car. Hurry, Howe! I feel pain.”
He grabbed the car keys and his wallet, spinning around, racing into the kitchen and stopped, opening the refrigerator and grabbed the object. He back stepped and slammed the door shut, rushing into the garage and entered into the car with his wife Poteet. Finally, the overdue baby finally had decided to come into the world.
He rolled the car out from the garage, traveling over the roadway towards the local hospital.
Inside the car, Poteet was safely buckled into the passenger seat with a smile, holding her swollen stomach with a sour frown, “Ugh, more pain! Park in the emergency parking lot! What’s that silver object in the cup holder?”
He drove fast with a smile. “I remember. A thermos of cold hazelnut gourmet coffee…”
“Ugh, more pain! Register in the birthing suite without waiting. What for?”
He drove fast with a grin. “I remember. I don’t like the taste of that hospital cafeteria coffee.”
“Ugh, more pain! Call our parents, after the birth of our child! The coffee is cold.”
He drove faster with a stern face. “I remember. I can heat the thermo of cold coffee inside the microwave at the nurses’ station.”
“Ugh, more pain. I don’t want them hanging around the room with us. How can you do that?”
He drove faster with a smile. “I remember. On our baby tour, the nurse said that I could heat any food items inside the nurses’ lounge.”
She leaned down with in pain and panted in shallow breathes below the dashboard with a sneer, “Ugh, more pain. The baby’s coming. And I noticed that you spent all your time inside the nurses’ lounge, instead of touring the birthing room.”
He drove faster with a frown. “I remember. I don’t like blood or puke. You are the one using the hospital room, not me. I just stand behind your head and don’t watch,” laughing.
She sat upright and stared into the car windshield with a scream. “Ugh! Stop!”
The car slammed into the metal side a city dump truck and then skidded over the grass media, landing on the grill inside a deep ditch. Her body was slammed forward into the diagonal safety belt at the throat and the hip bones as her forehead enclosed a silver tinted flying obstacle, the thermo mug. Poteet passed out into unconscious inside the car seat with a soft moan, “My baby…”
At 10:10 am, inside the white painted hospital room, Poteet awake with a slight head and a soft groan of pain and then a yelp. Her eyeballs were covered in a dark blindfold. She wiggled both arms. One arm was free. The other arm strapped and entrapped into a contraption near her jaw line which shifted back and forth only. She wiggled both legs. Both of her legs were also strapped and entrapped into an individual contraption that lifted up off a soft surface. Her butthole rested inside a soft bed mattress. She yelled out loud with a cough and then sneezed and then gagged with her mouth saliva as a single word softly whispered in the air waves, “Help!”
On the side wall inside the room, a tall and slender white haired elderly woman stood upright from the chair and moved ahead, standing next to Poteet, reaching out with a hand and a smile, “Poteet, honey, you’re here in a hospital bed…”
Poteet gagged and then coughed out the two words.” My baby…
“The baby is dead, Poteet, honey. You had a bad, bad car accident on the highway. You have two broken legs in a cast, a right broken arm in a cast, and your eyes are covered in a set of bandages. The hot coffee hit your pretty face and caused second degree burns. Both of your legs and the right arm wears a pretty colored blue individual soft sling, which has been elevated off the bed for better circulation and healing. Now, you are going back to sleep for more rest. The physician is going to give you more sleeping medication. Sleep well, Poteet!”
Poteet screamed and then gagged, coughing out loud, shaking all the slings, flinging the healthy arm in the air with angry, fear, and sorrow. Her mind was dizzy. The hospital medication worked too fast. She closed the eyelashes that only saw darkness within the bandages, softly whispering into a deep sleep, “Mom…”
The second day of hot weather inside the hospital bed, at 8:08 a.m., Poteet awoke from a deep sleep while mouth drooling over the parted lips and wiggled a body that didn’t move for some reason. She was confused and scared. Her eyeballs were covered in a blindfold. She coughed out the single word in the air waves, “Mom…”
On the side wall inside the room, a short and fat white haired elderly man stood upright from the chair and moved ahead, standing next to Poteet, reaching out with a hand and a smile, “Poteet, you’re here in a hospital bed. The baby is dead, Poteet, you had a bad car accident and received two broken legs, a right broken arm, and your eyes are covered in a set of bandages. The hot coffee hit your pretty face and caused second degree burns. Each one of your legs and the right arm wears a pretty colored blue individual soft sling, which has been elevated off the bed for better circulation and healing.”
Poteet gagged and then coughed out the word. “Howe?”
“He is dead from the car accident. Now, you need rest to heal your bones. The physician is going to give you more sleeping medication. Sleep tight, Poteet!”
Poteet screamed and then gagged, coughing out loud, shaking all the slings, flinging the healthy arm in the air with angry, fear, and sorrow. Her mind was dizzy. The hospital medication worked too fast. She closed the eyelashes softly whispering down into a deep sleep, “Dad…”
The third day of hot weather inside the hospital bed, at 9:09 a.m., Poteet awoke from a deep sleep with mouth drool and wiggled a body while swiftly recalling all of the broken limbs, feeling confused, scared, and sad. Her eyeballs were still covered in a blindfold. She yelled out loud, “Mom…”
On the side wall inside the room, a short and fat white haired elderly woman stood upright from the chair and moved ahead, standing next to Poteet, reaching out with a hand and a smile, “Poteet, honey, I’m here. You’re still here in a hospital bed.”
Her eyeballs produced tears that ran down the face and as Poteet coughed and then softly whispered with sadness. “I remembered from yesterday. My baby is dead. I had a car accident on the highway. I have two broken legs, a broken arm in a cast, and my eyes are covered in bandages from the burn.”
She patted the healthy arm of Poteet with a smile. “That’s good, Poteet, honey. You’re memory is very good. What else do you remember from yesterday?”
Poteet gagged and then coughed out the words. “Howe, my husband, he died in the car accident. He was driving the car. Mom!”
“Now, Poteet, honey, you need sleep and rest that is the only way your body will heal.”
Poteet coughed and then gagged with a soft timber. “No, Mom!”
“The physician is going to give you some more of sleeping medication. Good night, Poteet, honey!”
“No, Mom,” Poteet screamed and then gagged, coughing out loud, shaking all the slings, flinging the healthy arm in the air with angry, fear, and sorrow. Her mind was dizzy. The hospital medication worked too fast. She closed the eyelashes and softly whispered down into a deep sleep, “No!”
The fourth day of light rain showers inside the hospital bed, at 10:10 a.m., Poteet awoke from a hospital medication with mouth drool and shook the body while remembering the broken limbs, the blindfold, the deaths of her baby and her husband, feeling confused, scared, and sad. She yelled, “Mom…”
On the side wall inside the room, a tall and slender white haired elderly man stood upright from the chair and moved ahead, standing next to Poteet, reaching out with a hand and a smile, “Poteet, you are in the hospital. Don’t ya remember what happened to you?”
Her eyeballs produced tears that ran down the face and as Poteet gagged and then softly whispered with sadness. “Yes, I do, Dad. My baby is dead. My husband is dead. I had a car accident on the highway. I have two broken legs, a broken arm in a cast, and my eyes are covered in bandages from the burn. I wanna go to the funerals of my baby and my husband, even if I can’t walk or see, Dad.”
He patted the healthy arm of Poteet with a smile. “No, Poteet. You need to rest and get better. Your body is broken and your mind needs sleep. The physician is going to give you another dose of sleeping medication. Have a good sleep, Poteet!”
“No, Dad,” Poteet screamed and shook all the slings, flinging the healthy arm in the air with angry, fear, and sorrow. Her mind was dizzy. The hospital medication worked too fast. She closed the eyelashes with a whisper down into a deep sleep, “No!”
The fifth day of hot weather, inside the hospital bed, at 11:11 a.m., Poteet awoke from a deep sleep with mouth drool without wiggling the body, feeling two broken legs and an arm cast on her right arm while seeing only darkness with sadness. Her eyeballs were still covered in a blindfold. She yelled out loud without coughing in the air waves, “Dad!”
On the side wall inside the room, a tall and slender white haired elderly woman stood upright from the chair and moved ahead, standing next to Poteet, reaching out with a hand and a smile, “Poteet, honey, I’m here.”
On the opposite wall, inside the same room, a taller and slender male with red tinted hair and dark skin stood upright from the second chair with a stern face and stood on the opposite side of Poteet. “Mrs. Poteet Catsbad, I am police officer Vancleave Hatley from the Birmingham police department and I present a warrant for your arrest for the attempted murder of your newborn baby...”
“What? No! I didn’t murder or attempted to murder anyone or…or my baby. You’re mistaken me for a real mother. My baby died.” Poteet gasped.
“That’s not right, Poteet, honey,” the elderly woman patted the healthy arm of Poteet with a worried brow.”
Poteet wiggled side to side in the bed with a gasp. “Mom, you told…”
“You’re not right, Poteet,” the elderly man stood upright from the chair and stood by the footboard of the bed with a worried brow.
“See?” A baritone voiced sounded near the closed door and continued to sit in the folding chair and stared with a sour frown at Poteet inside the hospital bed. “The evil young woman tried to kill her own baby and then denies it.”
Vancleave cleared a throat. “Mrs Catsbad, your baby is very much alive and well. However, the little baby girl is…”
Poteet yelled out loud and stared into the darkness. “No! No! My baby is…”
“The baby is alive, Poteet,” the tall and slender young male moved from the chair with a gasp and stood by the foot of the hospital bed, but Poteet could not see his face through the blindfold.
Poteet yelled. “My husband and my baby are dead.”
The elderly woman patted the healthy arm of Poteet with a smile. “That’s not right, Poteet, honey.”
Howe frowned with worry, “Poteet, I am very much alive.”
Poteet gasped. “You died in a car wreck. Mom, you told me. Tell them the information, again, Mom!”
The elderly woman patted the hand with a smile. “That’s not right, Poteet, honey. Howe is standing at your bandaged feet. I’m holding our hand. O dear! You are not yourself, honey.”
“Howe, is that you?” Poteet jerked the healthy arm from the elderly woman and reached out toward the foot of the bed with a worried brow, not touched a hand but air waves. “I can’t see you but I hear your voice. Why are you here with me, Howe? I can’t believe you are here with me and that I hear your warm voice, but you are dead too.”
“Do you see and hear and know now?” A baritone voiced sounded near the closed door and continued to sit in the folding chair and stared with a sour frown at Poteet inside the hospital bed. “The evil young woman tried to kill her own baby and her own husband and admits it, too.”
Poteet sneered. “Who wears that scratchy horsey voice coming from an unknown male? I did not kill my baby or my husband. I was told…”
“Mrs. Catsbad, this is a warrant document for your arrest,” Vancleave reached over and placed the paper inside her wiggling hand. Poteet closed the palm with a gasp. He frowned. “I am required to present the arrest warrant in person, like now, since you are inside a hospital room. After you heal, you will be taken to the police station and booked on an attempted murder charge of your tiny little girl.”
Poteet gasped in alarm and smiled with love. “I delivered my baby girl. I was told something else. I…I wanna hold my baby right now. I demand to see, well, hold my baby right now. Mom? Dad? Howe?”
A smooth tenor voice said inside the same room and as the male smile. “Thank you, Officer Hatley! I’ll take care of her from here.”
“See?” A baritone voiced sounded near the closed door and continued to sit in the folding chair and stared with a sour frown at Poteet inside the hospital bed. “The evil young woman didn’t kill the infant but wants to try it again. You should be careful, husband of Poteet Catsbad, if you value your life too.”
A short and slender dark skinned male stood upright from the folding chair and moved ahead, stopping and replaced the foot position of the police officer. He reached out and grabbed the arrest warrant and shook her hand at the same time with a smile. “I am Dubean Danevang, your defense lawyer for your attempted murder charge for trying to kill your infant daughter.”
Poteet sneered. “I didn’t try to kill anyone including my baby girl. I wanna…demand to see my baby, right now,” she shook her body as the slings wiggled side to side.
Her lawyer Dubean exhaled. “Your parents had been visited by the police and then called me to come and fight your upcoming legal battle. We don’t have much time here. You’re pretty healthy, except for the broken bones.”
Poteet shook her body side to side without feeling the pain from the hospital mediation with a stern face behind the blinding cloth bandages. “Both of my legs are in plaster casts that I can feel, sir. My arm is in a plaster cast, also, that I can feel. My eyes are blindfolded from an acid burn, where I cannot see you or the room or my parents. I’m not pretty or healthy. Mom, Dad are you here with me?”
“Please listen to Dubean, your new lawyer, Poteet! We’re leaving. I can’t stand to hear the murder charges against you, honey. It…it is too much for my bad heart. I…I might just die right here on the floor of the hospital. Good luck, Poteet, honey,” the elderly woman left the hospital room.
“I…I am going with her. You hang in there, Poteet,” the elderly man left the room behind the elderly woman.
Poteet yelled with fury. “What’s happening to me here? I don’t understand this. I did nothing wrong here. I am a victim here. I wear bandages and a blindfold. I demand to hold my baby girl now.”
A scratchy baritone voiced sounded again. “You don’t wanna remember, but I remember. I see. I know.”
Dubean thumbed to the wall with a smile at blinded Poteet. “That scratchy voice is a tall and handsome male that represents the US State of Alabama Child Welfare Division. He is a social worker that is assigned to your baby. He will work with the prosecution lawyer to find you guilt of neonatal abstinence syndrome, Mrs Catsbad. You’ve been introduced, Yawbo. Now, get outta out here!”
Yawbo stood upright from the folding chair with a sneer at blind Poteet. “I am leaving for now but I will see, well, I will hear your true confession of murder in a court of law, Mrs. Catsbad,” he left the room.
She screamed out loud in fury. “Why for? I don’t understand. What’s happening here? I didn’t do anything.”
Dubean scooted backwards and then sat down in the chair with a sigh at temporarily blinded Poteet. “A court of law will decide, if you did or not do it. Mrs. Catsbad, you have been charged with attempted murder of your four-day-old newborn baby.”
Her eyeballs produced tears that ran down the naked skin while soaking through the cloth blindfold and as Poteet saw only blackness and then coughed with worry, softly whispering with sadness. “No!”
Howe scooted backwards and then sat down back inside the chair with a stern face. “We should talk about the car accident.”
Dubean shook a brown tinted skull at blinded Poteet. “The car accident is not important. You are important, Mrs. Catsbad. Your baby is alive, but her skin color indicates some type of illness that only comes from illegal drug usage inside your womb, thus you are charged with neglect, assault, and an unsuccessful attempted murder on your four-day-old newborn baby. Why did you take those drugs during your delicate pregnancy? What kind of illegal drug did you consume or inject or snort? Was it meth or crystal or heroin or LSD or marijuana? How many packs of cigarettes do you smoke per day?”
She exhaled. “I don’t take drugs.”
Dubean frowned. “O! I see! Your husband Howe doesn’t know about your extracurricular hobby either. Where do you get the sack or the box or the carton of the illegal drugs, girl? Look, Mrs Catsbad! We can bring in your drug lord instead of your person under the arrest warrant. Then, we can trade his jail time for yours.”
She tossed her healthy arm above her hair roots and then wiggled all the slings over her injured body in the air with a sneer. “No! No! I’m not guilt here of anything and nothing and no body and no place and no stuff. I don’t take any type of illegal drugs. I don’t smoke nasty packs of cigarettes either. I don’t drink alcohol. I don’t drink soft drinks. I drink only milk and water. Tell him, Howe! I don’t abuse my body ever.”
Howe exhaled with worry, wiping off the sad tears, staring at her blue tinted blindfold over her covered face. “Why did you harm our baby, Poteet?”
She sneered and continued to wiggle all the slings over her injured body in the air. “I did not harm our baby. I remembered something different from yesterday. My baby is dead. I had a car accident on the highway with other vehicles. I have two broken legs, a broken arm in a cast, and my eyes are covered in bandages from the acid burn. My husband was dead. Now, my husband is alive. Now, everyone is alive. Now, I’m so confused.”
Dubean stood upright from the brown tinted chair with a deep sigh. “Mrs, Catsbad, if you lose your legal case, then you will be jailed for a long time for attempted murder. Your baby will be adopted by the State of Alabama in foster care. It’s very late in the evening. I’ll come back here tomorrow to see you and we can work on your defense strategy. You need to think about what you have done and what you want to rectify the situation with the local court judge.”
“Me, too! I’m beat. I’m see you tomorrow, also, Poteet.” Howe stood upright from the chair without kissing her face or touching her body, spinning around, exiting her hospital room with Dubean.
She flung all the slings in the air and gasped in fear. “No! I wanna talk about my legal case. I wanna know more. Don’t leave me here alone, Howe! No! Howe?” Poteet screamed as the door closed without sound. “Hello! I’m alone. Hello! She started crying and shaking all the slings, flinging the healthy arm in the air with angry, fear, and sorrow. Her mind was dizzy and confused. She dropped the limbs back down into the slings and closed her eyelashes that only saw darkness within the face bandages, reaching up, wiping off the rolling tears with the naked hand. The blindfold slipped off and exposed both of the open eyeballs of Poteet.
She closed her eyeballs with fear of permanent blindness and reached out for the nurse buzzer. “Where is that buzzer for the nurse?” her hand scooted around the bed linens without success. “Help! Nurse! Come here and help me! My blindfold fell off,” she exhaled with worry, sadness, and fury. The light glowed through her eyelashes. “I can see some faint lights and I feel no pain,” she opened one eyelash and as her eyeball stared at the light colored wooden door and the entrance wall of soft peach hue. She smiled. “I can see.”
She carefully opened the second eyelash and as her second eyeballs saw the same clear image. She giggled and turned to survey the room. Each wall was painted in soft peach hue without a window or a piece of artwork, only a hospital bed with a side table that held a stack of books. “Well, I can’t see to door or the wall or table. Now, I can,” she exhaled with a worried brow. “Dubean left one of his legal books. So, I betta start learning to defend my case! I didn’t try to murder my baby,” she reached over and stuck out a tongue, wiggling the fingers of the healthy hand at the book. “Come to me book!” she scooted sideways toward the edge of the bed and leaned over, wiggling the fingers, touching the edge of the old brown colored book. “Almost there! Almost there!” She tumbled sideways and as each plaster cast slipped out from the sling, landing an entire body on top of the foam with a gasp. “Ouch!” She bounced up and down on top of the soft foam with a giggle. “What is this? Yellow tinted foam matting, I guess, if a blind person falls outta of bed like me,” she placed both palms on top of the foam and slowly flipped onto a back spine with a sigh, staring at the white ceiling with a puff. “This is too hard. Nurse!” She slapped her face with the broken arm and then gasped at the wound. “I broke my arm cast. Oh no! Nurse!” She surveyed the broken plaster. “There is yellow foam inside my arm cast with my arm,” she ripped apart the cast with easy and a gasp of shock. “My broken arm is a fake mold.” She looked down and slammed the leg against the metal leg of the hospital bed. “No pain in that leg,” she duplicated the motion with the other leg. “No pain in the other leg, either. I’m not injured. What is going on here? Nur…” she covered the mouth with a gasp and a whisper. “No. Be quiet! I have been kidnapped. No. I have been imprisoned in the hospital. My baby! My baby is being kidnapped from me for some reason. Nothing is wrong with me or her,” she stood upright and danced in place with a giggle.
“I’m healthy,” she gasped. “Get outta of here now! No. Get my baby outta of here first. She would be in the nursery on the fourth floor. See? I paid attention during the baby tour, Howe. Howe, my own husband is a part of this kidnapping plot, too,” she dashed into the bathroom and stopped with a loud gasp. “There isn’t a mirror,” she reached up and slapped her face both palms with a laugh. “My face doesn’t sting or hurt, because my face is not injured like the rest of my healthy body,” she slapped the hospital gown with a sneer and looked around the bathroom, “Wash sink, peeing toilet, towel closet, and no street clothes. My clothes are not in here or outside on the wall. I am truly being kidnapped for some reason.”
She sneered with fury at the blank wall that used to hold a reflection mirror. “Well, I am smart, too. I’m in a hospital and wear a hospital gown. I’ll roam around the halls and mosey up to the nursery and be a good mother. I need to breastfeed my baby girl. Yeah, great plan! Hang on, baby! Mama is coming!” She clapped with a nod and reached out, dressing in the provided white robe with the hospital logo, spinning around and entered back into her hospital room.
Poteet quickly decorated the hospital bed like she was in there but asleep even through the nurse would notice the arm and leg slings were empty. “The best I can do with limited equipment,” she placed the crushed plaster on the bed. “Wait! I need a disguise,” she lifted up a healthy arm and covered with the soft plaster casing like she had a real broken leg, stomping it back down to the floor with laughter. “Yeah, I’m out of my room for the fresh air,” she back stepped from the hospital bed and limped across the room stopping and cracked open the door.
An eyeball rotated around the hallway which was empty.
She opened the door and leaned over the hallway floor, looking in both directions, which was empty. Of course, Poteet had three broken limbs, including both legs. She listened for a set of faint sounds for a few seconds, which was quiet. Of course, I’m blindfolded but not blind, only gullible,” she moved ahead and turned to face the nurses’ station, dashing ahead. Her eyeballs didn’t see any nurse personal.
She rushed ahead in a limp and exited out from the medical nursing ward into another empty hallway while slowing and then paced in front of the three sets of closed elevators doors with nervousness, hearing a set of mechanical gears. She didn’t know any of the secret passages in the hospital. But the nursery and obstetrics floor was located on the fourth level during the free and fun baby tour of the hospital.
She limped to the side wall and away from the elevator for a few seconds, quickly pulling off the fake leg cast and hid the piece of broken plaster deep in a set of real flowering plants inside the wall corner, where it might not be found days from now. But, she’ll be gone in a few days with her baby and without her husband Howe.
The elevator door slid open.
She raced ahead and leaped into the open carriage, hitting the rear wall with a grunt. The carriage was empty also. She back stepped and swung around to see the mirror inside the carriage with a sneer. “I’m not scarred and not hurt, but I’m a prisoner here for some reason.” The carriage stopped with a sweet ting of music.
On the fourth floor, inside the nursery unit, Poteet exited the elevator carriage and slowly strolled down the hallway with a happy smile of a new mother while scouting the nursery ward with a gasp. Each individual pink and blue colored cradle was empty of a newborn infant. She continued down the hallway with a stern face and searched inside each room which was empty, also, until finding a lighted room with a gasp of hope, running inside and reached the steel tinted free-standing neonatal incubator for a newborn, “My baby!” She lifted up the lid with a smile, feeling the warm moist air, reaching inside with her naked hand and touched the leg of the baby with a gasp. “No! No! This can’t be possible! Her skin is…is green colored. No! My baby is green colored. No! No!” She back stepped with a gasp and covered her mouth, tumbling down, fainting on the floor.
The physician appeared and dashed into the neonatal incubation room with a sour frown stopping and pointed down at Poteet to a second physician. “Get her outta of here now! Get her back into her private room and re-drug her mind and re-plaster both of her legs and her arm.”
The second physician moved ahead with sour frown and stopped over the body of Poteet. “How did she get in here anyways? How did she know to come up here?” He reached down and lifted her into a chest, standing upright with a loud grunt, spinning around toward the archway.
The first physician stared at the incubator with the green tinted baby that didn’t move or cry or mew. “Get going before someone sees you!”
“Why aren’t you carrying her back down to the room and drugging her body up with the sedative, doctor?”
The first physician moved ahead deeply into the ICU dark room with a snarl. “I’m moving the medical incubator with the baby to a more private and secured location, only known by me, before someone else comes up here and see this.”
“Which arm was banged?” The second physician reached the archway and looked down with a puzzled brow at unconscious Poteet.
The first physician stopped and sneered down at the baby. “The left one…”
The eighth day comprised a set of heavy rain drops and thunderstorms, at 9:09 a.m. in the morning, when the court trial began.
The court room of dark brown wooden panel without a single window view held six rows of curvy individual brown tinted chairs with a red padded seat, like a theater play house, where an honored poet would read out loud his next brilliant literary creation to the captured audience.
On the forward wall, inside each wall corner, a flag of the US State of Alabama and the USA country proudly stood at attention.
In the middle of the empty wall, there was a long square shaped table with four chairs. Poteet sat in the middle inside a medical hospital wheelchair, wearing a plaster cast on the right arm and both legs with a warm blanket over the legs, going down over her new pair of red tinted shoes. She didn’t wear a blindfold but tilted a head with her chin to the side while mouth drooling a set of salvia drops coming from her wiggling pink tinted tongue and stared through a pair of blurry eyeballs at the unfamiliar faces in the audience.
In-between Poteet, her lawyer Dubean sat with a worried brow near her parted lips and her exposed tongue while staring down at her salvia dripping trail that hit the floor, sometimes, gagging in disgust and annoyance.
Her husband Howe sat on the opposite side of Poteet and continued to stare down with a grin at the keyboard on his new computer laptop in silence.
Inside the fourth chair next to Howe, the personal physician of Poteet, Rawls Montrose looked down with a stern face at his computer laptop while sometimes typing on the keyboard for more medical information.
On the front table that held an audience which represented the prosecution side, a short female was fifty plus years of age with a tone of dark tinted skin, a pair of brown eyes, and a head of long black tinted hair and stood upright from the chair in the middle of the first row of people, wearing a long tan and white checkered jacket to the kneecaps, a white tinted silk blouse, a large silver tinted dangling necklace of stars around her throat, a pair of skinny blue tinted pants, and a pair of tan colored heels and held a tiny bell with a smile. The bell ringed numerous times and then finally stopped. The female scanned the closest members with a smile. “Here! Here! I call this urgent medical matter of State of Alabama versus Mrs. Poteet Catsbad into legal session. Everyone, please sit down! First, we need to have a set of formal introductions around the room. I was always taught by my Southern mama to allow a lady to speak first, which I will ignore as a feminist first. So, I’ll start in the rear of the room on the third row. Please stand and address your presence and purpose here inside this court room, sir!”