This play-novel published in 2021. You can buy it here, if you please.

Act I, Scene I

Allen Watson walked into a still courtroom and stared at a large fly on the back wall. The fly was the size of a baseball mitt, much bigger than any fly—or insect, actually—than he’d ever seen in his life. It had to be at least one foot long and one foot wide, with transparent wings that hung down its back like two mechanical capes.

Allen looked away from the fly and down at his cup of earl grey tea. Then he closed his eyes and opened them again but did not dare to look at the back wall, afraid he would see the giant fly again, thereby confirming his insanity.

He took out his reporter notebook and wrote the number ‘322.’ That’s how many people had died in a wildfire in the Saint Francis mountains the year before. An electricity pole had snapped in half and started the largest manmade wildfire in history. Well, actually, the electric pole had snapped into two pieces—one was about one third the length of the original pole and the other piece was, as nature would have it, two thirds the length of the original pole. From what Allen could tell, the pole had broken cleanly.

Allen drank his tea and watched Judge Bill Asher, a large, soft-spoken man and a drinker of scotch, walk into the courtroom.

“All rise,” a court clerk wearing oval glasses said.

All of the beasts rose. 

“Thank you, all,” Judge Asher said, his clean-shaven face stern, his eyes dodging from side to side on his desk, looking through documents. “Let’s hear from Golden Bay Electric’s lawyers first today. Have you all booked my trip to Hawaii next month? I’d like to stay on Maui this time, Kapalua Bay.”

Allen couldn’t believe his ears. A trip to Hawaii? Bribery? In a public court session. He frantically wrote down every word coming out of the judge’s mouth.

“Your honor,” Mr. Bellini, a plump lawyer for Golden Bay, said. “Your tickets are secured. You and your wife will be flying first class next month. We even booked a private car and driver, not only from the airport, but for your whole two-week stay.” The plump lawyer felt his belly.

“Very well, Mr. Bellini. But I told you I will be going for four weeks. I trust you can fix this mistake quickly,” Judge Asher said.

“Of course, that was an oversight on my part, your honor,” Mr. Bellini said and grinned. “I’ll have my team correct that as soon as possible.”

“Very well. You may be seated.”

Allen slid his hand into his pocket and slowly took out his phone and started to write a Tweet. He must be dreaming, he thought. Or maybe he was sick. Something was very wrong.

“And now let’s hear from the fire victims’ lawyers,” Judge Asher said. “Mr. Donovon, will you be speaking today?”

“Yes, your honor,” said Will Donovon, a veteran bankruptcy lawyer. He gripped a podium in front of him with two powerful hands.  “Your honor, if I may be blunt: The people I represent—the daughters, sons, fathers, mothers, whose loved ones were burned to death by this utility company—they aren’t being heard in your courtroom. These are real lives we are talking about. Money shouldn’t be first in line.”

“I understand, Mr. Donovon. But I need you to help me.”

“I’m all ears, your honor,” Donovon said.

“The other side is sending me to Hawaii for four weeks. As soon as you have a better deal on the table, I will be more than happy to take your side.”

“I think I have just that,” Donovon said and let go of the podium. “How about ten acres in wine country? And I’m not just talking about a vacation rental. I’m talking about a deed. Vineyard and all.”

“A deed? The land, will it be mine to own?” Judge Asher said.

“It’s already yours. The wildfire victims’ families secured a loan from a bank in hopes to compete with Golden Bay Electric’s offerings. The victims desperately need you on their side in this case. Please consider their gift.”

“It is a very generous gesture,” Judge Asher said.

“Your honor,” Mr. Bellini said. “May I object?”

“Not now,” the Judge said. “I think I have all the information I need to make a decision. Court is adjourned.”