mercy from their parents and offers to provide more pots of gold, Mr. McKnob has refused to lift the curse.”
I looked over at McKnob, who defiantly raised his ugly chin, before returning my attention to the plaintiff’s attorney.
“Normally I’d ask you to state what relief is sought, but the answer to that question is more than obvious.”
To the leprechaun, I said, “Mr. McKnob, I presume.”
“Who else would be sittin’ here?”
“Not a good beginning, sir. Unless you want to take it up with the sephalian, you’ll answer my questions, refer to me as Your Honor, and endeavor to respect this court in all customary ways. That includes standing when you address me. Not sittin’. Do you understand?”
His lips drew into a tight line as he turned pink, but he managed to stand, walk around the edge of the table so that he could be seen, and croak out, “Aye. Your Honor.”
“Very good. Please tell the court why you weren’t willing to accept the families’ overtures of restitution?”
“What sort of lesson would that teach the scilly-wibbles?”
“Again, I’m asking the questions. You’re providing the answers.”
“Parents are far too lenient. That’s why.”
“I see. Are you, yourself, a parent, Mr. McKnob?”
“No.” I stared until he grudgingly added, “Your Honor.”
“Doesn’t it always seem that the people who are most outspoken about childrearing are the childless?” I hurried to add, “Don’t answer that. It was rhetorical. Just musing out loud. Here’s a question I do want you to answer. How long has it been since you were a youth?”
He raised his chin again. “A good long while.” Pause. “Your Honor.”
“Can you convert ‘good long while’ to human years so that I have context?”
“I’d say four hundred years, give or take.” Pause. “Your Honor.”
“And you never personally engaged in any mischief on the way to maturity?”
He drew himself up and stretched to his full thirty-four inches. “I did no’.”
“Did you have friends when you were a boy?”
“No’ to speak of. Association with others is the root of downfall when a young fae’s character is bein’ shaped.”
I was kind of fascinated by the leprechaun’s twisted perspective, but I wasn’t a psychotherapist and, even if I was, my job wasn’t treatment and the court wasn’t a couch. So, I decided to remain within the parameter of my purview and color inside the lines.
“What damage was done to you or your property?”
“I spent a worrisome night without my gold.” Pause. “Your Honor.”
“Let’s call that emotional distress. I understand that. You deserved an apology. The families and I agree on that. Perhaps you even deserve to be paid for your discomfort. The families and I agree on that as well. It’s the next part that’s woefully troubling to me. What is it you hope to gain by refusing to remove this curse?”
He seemed to be taking his time finding an answer. At length he said, “Satisfaction.” Pause. “Your Honor.”
“I see. When was the last time you experienced satisfaction, Mr. McKnob?” His little mouth screwed up as he tried to sort out an answer. “If you don’t know either when or if, saying you don’t know is acceptable.”
“Of course, I know. What do you take me for, woman? Scibberdiwiggets like these are a plague. If ye do no’ see that, you’re blind as a blade of grass. I have the right to protect my property and discourage little punkinsters from stealin’. ‘Tis one of the reasons why my kind has been gifted with the ability to curse. Since the parents,” as he spat the word, I couldn’t help but notice that his little fists were curling into tight, angry balls, “are no’ capable of raisin’ elflin’s who respect others, ‘tis up to me to make sure of it. Your judgment on the case before me resulted in a sentence of community service. Well, I have already performed my community service by givin’ these meinweysees a lesson they will no’ be forgettin’ soon.” He raised his fist and shook it in the air. “My kind will be erectin’ a statue in my honor…”
When it looked like Peevish McKnob was just getting warmed up for a rant that could go for a while, I turned to Lochlan and asked, “Is this…?”
Lochlan nodded. “When leprechauns think they’ve been wronged, they’re known to be bloviators.”
Turning to face the courtroom, I looked at McKnob, who was still talking, having not missed a beat.
“Mr. McKnob,” I said.
He continued with his rant as if I hadn’t spoken.
“MR. MCKNOB!!” I raised my voice and banged my gavel three times.
He shut up.
“Mr.