“The prosecutor will now begin cross examination of the final witness…” The elderly judge murmured as the state prosecutor approached the stand, greeting the young boy sitting on a highchair opposite to the podium.
“Patrick Caughlin is your name, yes?” The attorney began, the little boy shyly nodding his head in response.
“Speak into the microphone, sonny.” The judge spoke to Patrick, the child nodding again in return, replying with a soft, “Y-yes.”
“Alright. And you’re eight years old?” The attorney continued.
“Y-yes.” Patrick responded.
“Very good. And how do you know Miss Angie?”
“She… babysits me sometimes.”
“Has she ever done anything… that doesn’t seem right to you…?”
“No.” The little boy answered plainly, much to the frustration of the prosecutor.
“Let me rephrase that. Has she… changed you?”
“Yes.”
“Into what?”
“A puppy dog!” The little boy responded with a smile on his face.
“To be clear… a girl dog, correct?”
“Yup!”
“And she forced you to change against your will, didn’t she?”
“N-no.” The boy gave a blushing smile. “I liked being a doggy!”
The prosecutor shrunk back for a moment, pondering what to say next until he spat out with a resignating sigh. “No further questions…”
The courtroom was suddenly abuzz with chatter at the boy’s response as the judge slammed his gavel down. “Order! Order!” he bellowed, “Does the defense have any more questions for their last witness? No? Very well, you are dismissed Patrick.”
The defendant, Miss Angie, looked on at the little boy as he walked away from the podium, smiling at Patrick as he waved back at her. She wore the same unshakably warm smile that she’d had on throughout the whole trial, graciously answering any question with a soft-spoken, kind voice. The woman was young and attractive by all means. She had long, shimmering black hair and impressive blemish-free peach skin, beauty that any onlookers would be convinced could only be achieved with magic.
The closing argument passed quickly, and the jury streamed out and then back to their seats in a matter of minutes – an extremely quick judgement that elicited even more gossip from the befuddled onlookers.
“Alright, order, everyone!” The judge hammered his gavel as the raucous noise from the onlookers died down. The elderly, robed man cleared his throat, thinking for a moment on how to summarize the most bizarre trial of his whole career.
“Miss Angie, here in the District Court of Salem you stand accused of violating the bodily integrity of two dozen people, magically changing them and warping their bodies. The application of anti-witchcraft laws from well over 300 years ago is indeed unprecedented, however, these laws are the only judicial guidance that exists for such a… strange circumstance such as this. If convicted of these crimes, well, the punishment from way-back-then is clear – burning at the stake. Now, your case has been heard and the jury has returned.” The old judge turns to the lead juror. “Jury, have you come to a decision?”
“We have your honor.” An overweight woman stands up from the stands, “On the first count of violating the bodily integrity of Patrick Caughlin, we find the defendant… not guilty.”
Miss Angie, looks on unflinchingly, keeping the same warm smile that’s had plastered on her face throughout the entire trial as the juror reads down the litany of charges. Not guilty… not guilty… not guilty… The judge on the other hand looks flabbergasted, his jaw hanging down as Miss Angie is summarily cleared of every count of violating bodily integrity.
“On the count of criminal mischief, we the jury find Miss Angie… guilty.” The juror speaks as she reads the final charge – the only one that stuck. Miss Angie simply nodded at the end, graciously accepting the judgement as a wave of chatter arose through the courtroom.
“Order! Order!” The judge slammed his gavel once again. “Alright, Miss Angie, you’ve alluded the most serious charges.” The old man began, shooting a scowling look at the soft-spoken young woman. “Your defense didn’t deny that you’ve changed people into animals but argued that it was not a ‘violation’ as none of the changed persons felt violated… that they enjoyed it. I couldn’t in million years understand how a reasonable person could even begin to enjoy being twisted into a shape that god never intended! I’m convinced that through your feminine charms or some sort of spell cast on the jury’s minds that you affected the outcome of the trial. I’m also convinced there’s countless others out there that you’ve changed that never changed back - that couldn’t testify against you and that never returned to their true forms… nevertheless… it appears the defense has swayed the jury...”
The judge wrinkled his brow, considering the sentence for the minor charge. “You’ve been convicted of a class one misdemeanor of criminal mischief, and for that… I sentence you to the maximum punishment of 300 hours of community service. And I urge you. No magic!”
The judge grimaced towards Miss Angie, expected a response, an amused, unapologetic giggle escaping through her smile, exasperating the frustrated judge.
“I can only pray this time makes you reflect on what you’ve done. You’re still a young lady with your whole life ahead of you. You almost had that taken away from you today. Don’t make that mistake again. Court is adjourned!” The judge slams his gavel one last time, the audience erupting in chatter as the first witchcraft case since Revolutionary War came to a close.
“Wonderful!” Miss Angie’s defense attorney turns to her as the 23-year old witch turns to hug him back. “So what’s next for you, Miss Angie?”
“Getting started right away on community service, of course!” The witch explains with a fae giggle. “Afterall, after this case, I own the community so much!”