For the Rest of Your Natural Life

Jason Greene sat on the stage shaking his head in disbelief. There were people all around him, but everything felt strangely silent and detached. The election results were still coming in, but it seemed clear already that he had lost his reelection bid for district attorney.

As he sat there occasionally receiving the sympathetic words of his supporters, Jason reflected on the absurdity of it all. Here he was, losing an election he should have easily won and 1,000 miles away sat Jack Moore - lying on a beach in the sun when he should be behind bars for good.

Jason shook his head in resignation. Moore had made an utter fool of him and it had cost him his political career.

Jason Greene had been a rising star in his party. A Harvard graduate, handsome and articulate, Jason made his mark early as a lawyer. Trial successes as a defense attorney naturally led to his hiring as an assistant district attorney. In that post, he had out-shined everyone else - including his boss.

So, when the district attorney announced that he would not be seeking reelection, Jason was the obvious choice to replace him. Campaigning with his wife and two young daughters at his side, Jason was unbeatable. There seemed to be nothing that could stop him from serving many years, or seeking an even more influential office.

And then came Jack Moore.

Moore had been a target of Greene's since the beginning of his term of office. He was a serial criminal who had been in and out of prison since his teens. Moore eventually became a trusted lieutenant in a small Mafia clan, rising eventually to its top ranks through murder and threats of murder. It was for one of those murders that Jason Greene had been confident he could get a conviction.

Using informants, wiretaps and some extraordinary sleuthing, Greene was able to convince a grand jury that Moore had not only ordered the murder of a small-time crook named Frank Parissi, but that he actually participated in the murder personally.

At the trail, things also went Jason's way. The jury selection was favorable and his evidence unimpeachable. In fact, the only hold-up to a speedy and successful trial was Jack Moore's heart trouble. The old mafioso had experienced three heart attacks and one quadruple bypass in the past few years. So there were some days throughout the trial where the defense claimed that their client was too sick to attend the proceedings.

Still, after three months, the verdict was returned in Jason's favor. Jack Moore was guilty of murder and would likely end his life in prison. It was anybody's guess how long that would actually be. In fact, after three months in confinement, Jack Moore had another heart attack and was resuscitated by the prison medical staff. Afterwards, his lawyer petitioned the court for advanced medical care for the old man. The court, for its part, approved the care, but did not grant the request for an early release due to health reasons.

As far as Jason was concerned, if the old man wanted to live longer in solitary confinement, that was fine with him. So, when Jack Moore asked to have the experimental surgery done, the district attorney did not oppose the request. As a condition, though, Jason ensured that no early medical release would be allowed even if the surgery went very wrong.

Two months later, Jack Moore was wheeled into an operating room only to leave it 20 hours later with his ailing heart removed and an artificial heart in its place.

Later, when it seemed clear that the surgery had been a success, Jason was shocked to learn that Moore's lawyer had filed a petition for Jack's release from prison. Even more shocking to Jason was the basis of the petition. Rather than claim medical necessity, Moore's defense team stated that Jack Moore had fully served his term and should now be set free.

The proposal was so ludicrous that Jason laughed it off. It was such a ridiculous argument that rather than attending the hearing personally, Jason sent one of his assistants to handle the proceedings.

Soon, however, a hasty phone call from the assistant district attorney during recess brought Jason running the the court building. But it was too late. To Jason's great surprise and eventual political ruin, Jack Moore won his case and was released because he had served his full sentence.

Victory confetti drifted down on the loser as he continued to sit alone on the stage. Most of the crowd had gone home and those who remained kept a polite distance. Jason shook his yet again. When Jack Moore had requested to be released, his lawyers had noted that state law decreed that life sentences were to last until the end of the convict's natural life. With an artificial heart, Jack Moore's natural life ended at surgery. Now he was living an extended, unnatural life. Therefore, his sentence had been served.

The court was obliged to agree with the defense and Jack Moore was summarily released. Now, a year later, he was living in Barbados, surrounded by young nurses and a personal physician. Meanwhile, Jason Green sat, alone and out of office.

(c) 2016, Kevin H. Grenier

The Story Keeper

Jim Garnet looked visibly uncomfortable. For a man accustomed to living in the bush country with natives, wearing a suit and tie was clearly not his attire of choice. But when you write a book, the results can force you to do a lot of things that are out of your comfort zone.

In this case, it was sit for an interview with a reporter for an article in the Sunday paper. "They have a readership of one million people," his publisher had said. "We need them to write up your story!"

"So, Dr. Garnet, I understand that you have been with the Kumari people on a remote island in the South Pacific," Jill Stump said, beginning the interview. "How long were you with them?"

"I lived among the Kumari for about two and a half years."

"And what was your purpose for being there?"

"As a social anthropologist, my goal was to fully document the culture and society of this very isolated tribe before civilization could creep in and influence them."

"In your book about the Kumari you spend a lot of time examining their social structure. What did you find to be the most interesting or compelling aspect of their culture?"

"The Kumari people were very different from us in many ways," Jim stated authoritatively. "They were more egalitarian than I expected that they would be, although the men did have more authority than the women. Still, girls could refuse marriage if they chose and men were forced by the tribal elders to treat their wives with great respect. The most striking part of their culture, though, was the tribal story keeper."

"The story keeper?"

"Yes. There was one story keeper each village in the region I was in. The boy who would be the story keeper was selected at a very young age upon the death of the previous story keeper."

"What did the story keeper do?" Jill asked.

"Just what the name implies," replied Jim. "Have you ever heard a story so awful that you didn't want anyone else to know about it, but you had to tell someone? Or have you ever had a secret that was tormenting you so much that you had to tell someone?"

Jill nodded in understanding.

"Among the Kumari, there would be one person designated as the story keeper. This man never had to hunt or work in the traditional sense. He was held in high regard whether he was six years old or sixty. And anytime anyone wanted to, they could meet with him and tell them their story."

"So, they would get whatever was troubling them off their chest and give it to the story keeper?"

"That's right. He served a vital role in helping the village cope emotionally as individuals and as a group. I suppose the closest thing we have to one in our culture is a priest at confession."

"That must've made the story keeper a very powerful man in the village," noted Jill.

"It did," Jim agreed. "If the story keeper came up to someone and pointed his walking stick at them, the rest of the tribe would, without question, grab that person and punish them immediately."

Jim continued, "They understood that the story keeper had heard enough about that person from so many others that the tribe needed to purge him of his evil influence. In my time there, this happened only a couple of times and everyone knew from their own experience that the story keeper was correct in his decision."

"But what if the story keeper was mean or wanted vengeance?"

"The tribal elders watched over the story keeper very closely. He was not allowed to live with his family and sometimes did not even know who his family was. All of the story keepers needs were met, but he was never allowed to marry. As a result, he had nothing to gain or lose from any decision he made."

"But why would anyone ever talk to the story keeper? Wouldn't they be afraid of what he'd do with their stories? He could tell everyone in the village!"

"That's why they chose young children for the role," Jim replied. "It  was easier to cut their tongues out when they were little."

Jill gasped in horror. "You don't mean to say that . . ."

Jim nodded. "When the previous story keeper died, the tribal elders would select a new story keeper and then ensure that the boy would never be able to pass on to anyone else the stories that he heard."

"Did you ever see this happen?"

"Yes. Twice. Once in my village and once in a village about 15 miles away."

"Why didn't you stop it? Surely your professional detachment didn't extend that far?" Jill asked.

Jim squirmed slightly. He knew that he could brush the reporter off with the standard response of all anthropologists, but instead he paused.

Finally, Jim answered, "I suppose because I found myself visiting the story keeper several times myself."



(c) 2016, Kevin H. Grenier