The Laywer's Son | Teen Ink

The Laywer's Son

March 22, 2012
By DrWho, wausau, Wisconsin
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DrWho, Wausau, Wisconsin
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I’m 14 year old Jake Becker. In this picture as you can see I’m a Lawyer, unbelievable huh? The only way for you to make sense of this is to start from the beginning.
It was a peaceful summer morning. Beep, Beep! Goes my new alarm clock I recently gotten for Christmas. I strained and stretched to reach the alarm clock, I just didn’t have the energy. I thought I would never get it to stop until, WHAM! My dad scared me half to death, but at least the beeping stopped.
“Come on Jake, you got to remember to turn off that alarm, you don’t have school anymore.”
“Come on dad, I know you don’t like the alarm clock but you don’t need to hit it hard enough to break it,”
Of course you could tell he wasn’t in a good mood then, because he got this strange look on his face and stormed out of the room. I got up out of bed only to find that my dad didn’t have time to make breakfast because he had to go to court for a murderer. A couple of minutes later I heard this dreadful saying, “Bye Jake,” and that was the last thing I heard from my dad before it happened.
Right when he left I went right to working on what to eat. Once I got my breakfast, I plopped down on a chair and watched T.V. An hour later, right in the middle of my show, there was an interruption. The broadcast said that the judge had been talking to the witness, John L. Telis, when he was shot by what seemed like a silenced gun. When they laid out the suspects on screen, they showed a bunch of different people, including the witness and my dad. The news anchor on the television mentioned that the suspects would be escorted home and then taken for questioning the following day.
Right when my dad walked through that door I ran to him and started firing as much questions at him as I could. “Whoa, Whoa!” He said, “I thought I wasn’t supposed to be questioned untill tomorrow.”
“This isn’t the time for jokes! What happened?” I shouted.
“I don’t know, I was having a conversation with the jury at the time. But enough with the questions, you are undergoing a lot of stress. I think it’s time for bed,” He dreadfully replied.
I couldn’t get to sleep that night. I couldn’t help thinking that his questioning would go horribly wrong and that he would be wrongly accused of something he didn’t do. I would have to think of the good things that could happen. That was the night of peace before chaos.
The next day, early in the morning my dad was picked up for questioning and of course I was there to see it happen. “Good Luck!,” I screamed, it was probably hard to hear over the roaring engine of the car, “Don’t be a criminal!” I knew he couldn’t here me because he was already in the car, so I reworded my phrase into a simple wave. Before I knew it, the car was out of the driveway, carrying my dad to his doom.
When he left, I sprinted back inside and plopped down so hard I nearly broke the chair. I turned on the T.V, and turned it up so loud I would not have advised the faint of heart to watch. I had to wait and see the results of the questions. It took awhile for the actual news to come on, but it was worth it because while I was waiting I learned how to properly juice an orange, and how to join the stock market. While the news was on, they introduced three new suspects. Landon Hedfer, Ian Thawson, and Hank Nack. Apparently they just picked everybody in the court room with a criminal record. Hank Nack was probably the worst of them all. The news channel made it sound like the guy committed crimes regularly, 10 per year to be exact. So this guy really stood out to me. The thing I didn’t understand, was how they put my dad in the list suspects. My dad has never committed a crime in his life. Sadly, there was an interruption in the program, so after about 15 minutes of commercials the show came on. It said that my dad had tested positive for gun shot residue, and that they were taking him into custody. They were holding a meeting that night to discuss whether or not the government would provide him with a lawyer.
When I heard this message I turned off the T.V. and ran for the phone. I tried to get ahold of my dad but the police confiscated his phone and I just got an answering machine. I left a message just in case one of the police officers would see it and give the phone to my dad.
Right after I left the message I ran back to the T.V. Somehow I flipped it on just in time to here them say that, if he was proven guilty, he was due for a twenty year stay in prison. I thought in my head that I was only thirteen and that I couldn’t live the rest of my child life without a dad. I thought of mom and how if she wouldn’t have gotten killed in a car accident I might have had something to live for. I thought of foster homes. How the movies would make them look so bad, with their abusive parents and very little space.
I almost stayed up all night looking for further information but when the channel went out I passed out right on the couch, next thing I knew I was waking up to a news broadcast.
The T.V. said something that had to be the most horrible sentence in the world. “The results are finally in for the lawyer meeting,” The anchor said, “The government will not be providing a lawyer for the culprit,” When that happened I swear my heart stopped. Then I realized something, my dad had thought me everything he new about being a lawyer. I thought it was pretty boring but I thought it might help me later in life so I listened to make him happy. He said that every day he would update me on what he learned in law school that day and since he’s done with law school I have all knowledge of be a lawyer coursing through my veins. It was official, I had the whole book of the law memorized, chapters one through six. I knew what I must do, I was going to the court house, I’m going to be a lawyer’s lawyer.
The following day I decided to take the book of law just to make sure I didn’t miss any word. When I walked out the door I realized that I needed a ride because my dad never picked up my bike from the shop. My neighbors weren’t home so I was on foot. The court house was on the other side of town so I would need to be fast, that meant no side trips.
It was a hard trip to the court house. Without any food or water I thought I was going to pass out before I got there. But right when I was going to give up I saw the court house in the horizon, I was going to make it.
When I got to the door I knew it wouldn’t be to formal to barge into the court house sweating like a pig so when I got in I bought a soda from the machine and grabbed a paper towel from the bathroom to use as a sweat rag. When I got to the desk I remembered my dad said that I looked like an adult but if that didn’t work than I had plan B. “hello,” The lady said, in an unpleasant tone of voice. “Hi,” I said, “I would like to see the judge,” “Sorry but you are to young to see the judge,” The lady said.
That’s when I knew that I had to break out the book. “Sorry but it clearly states in chapter 4 section alpha that anyone over the age of 12 is eligible to see the judge as long as they have proper ID,” I said as I pulled out my ID card and my birth certificate. “I hope this will cover it,” I said rather bossily. “Well, can’t argue with that logic, you are free to see the judge as much as you want,” When see said that I felt powerful, I felt alive. I knew I was ready to face the judge but when I got to the large wooden double doors that led to the court room I hesitated. I had to figure out what to say.
It was a half an hour before I finally barged through those double doors. It took all of my strength to go through those doors as fast as I did. Right when I got in there I looked the judge in the eye and said “I am applying to be a judge for my dad,” I felt really stupid when he started laughing. “OK,” He said. “all right but I’m ready to pull out this book and… wait, did you say yes?” I said, very confused. “Yeah I said yes. Being the son of a lawyer you must of gotten taught everything there is to know about being a lawyer,” The judge said. It was official this judge was a nutcase, but at least he required no back up information. “I want an appointment with my dad today at noon,” “That’s doable. Your going to have to show up 15 minutes early though,” He said.
I said OK and that was that.
The judge was kind enough to loan me a bike this time so it was a lot faster going back. When I got home I took advantage of the extra hour I had and looked through my dad’s diary. He had originally laid it on the table for anyone to read but I didn’t want to read it because I felt like I was intruding on his personal life. The diary was all I needed for evidence. It spoke of a secret arch enemy that my dad had, his name was Hank Nack. He was said to be the hardest criminal for him to send to jail because he would hide everything so good, but he got older and eventually lost that skill. In 12/23/94 Hank Nack was finally sent to jail because the police proved eight of his crimes. For some reason that name sounded oddly familiar. I wondered how it could sound familiar if he was arrested before I was born. Than it hit me, the news anchor mentioned him in the list of suspects. There was only one thing I needed to get my hands on to prove me right, I needed the very gun that killed the judge himself.
I went down to the forensic science building and asked the person behind the desk to check the gun for finger prints and see if he can match them Hank Nack’s figure prints. He hesitated at first but then I pulled out the book and recited another verse from that and that finally got him moving. He asked me for my phone number and told he would call me when the results were in.
I waited and waited and waited at home. Right before I walked out the door to go back to the court house the phone rang. I bounded to the phone and struggled to get the phone in my hands. I pressed the big green button that said talk. Without restraint I started to yell out random questions. The person on the phone calmed me down and said that the gun did test positive for Hank Nack’s DNA. “There was no traces of your dad’s DNA,” he said. With that I hung up the phone without any warning, probably leaving the guy on the phone clueless to what just happened.
Finally with the proof I needed I raced to the court house. When I got in the door I greeted the head of the Police Department court was just about to be in session. I had to get ready I opened the doors and motioned for him to get in. I didn’t have a brief case, just a book and an incredibly awesome piece of evidence.
“BANG, BANG! Court is know in session. Juvenile lawyer please state your position,”
If your wondering why I’m being called juvenile is because I’m to young to be put in the government files so they don’t know my name.
I stood up and said,”I am defending
John Becker, A.K.A. my dad.” “Please call your first witness,” The judge said. “Everyone please welcome my first and only witness, Ed Noble, the head of the police department.” He came walking down the isle proudly but of course nobody cheered because they were in a court room.
He sat down at the stand. He was venerable to any questions I could ask, so I fired away.
“You were there when I brought in that gun were you not?”
“Yes.”
“Then when you analyzed the gun you found absolutely no traces of my defendant on the gun, am I right?”
“Yeah.”
“But there was one person that all over that gun am I right?”
“Correct.”
“Who was that person?”
“A person named Hank Nack.”
All of the sudden there was a huge gasp that filled the whole room. Then there was that terable noise of that mallet and the judge saying “Order! Order!”
“I rest my case,” I said.
“ Juvenile lawyer you need to have more than one defendant,” The Judge said.

“O.K. than I call Hank Nack to the stand.”
Hank was a giant, certainly larger than he was on T.V. The chair creaked trying to support his weight.
“Hank, is it true that you used to be a skilled convict that was good at hiding evidence?”
“Huh,yes,” he said in a sad voice, trying to sound like he regretted it.
“But, as you got older, you got worse and worse at hiding evidence, right?”
“Yes,” He said in a voice as if saying “where is this going?”
“So eventually one day you were arrested by my dad for a case you failed to hide”
“Yes.”
“Is it true that, after you were arrested, you were sworn enemies with him forever?”
“Yes but do you blame me, he got me into jail.”
“So, you made sure that you had seat behind him where you could aim your gun over his shoulder and at the judge so it would look like he did it. Since you knew he went hunting you knew the gun shot residue test would work but when you got picked for being suspect there was extra work for you, you had to make sure he went through the test first and he did,”
After that Hank ran, climbed up to the balcony and pressed a secret button that seemed to send an electric current through the name tags. Of course I took mine off earlier because I thought that a name tag that said juvenile looked stupid.
I was thinking about what I should do when I remembered a secret button that was hidden at the judges desk that would automatically page the police. It was just a matter of dodging all the people so that they wouldn’t touch me. I sprung, bounded, and leaped over the people and slammed that button hard.
Now it was a matter of getting Hank outside. It took me awhile but I eventually thought of an idea. I ran outside to the balcony and made it evident that I was still alive and standing. Then he started doing the most horrible thing, he started shooting at me with his pistol. I dodged the bullets and pretty soon he was out of ammo.
But then he took out a threatening grapple gun and aimed it at me like he was going to stab it into me. I quickly dodge the deadly projectile and sent it flying into the pavement. Then Hank flew off the balcony from the pull of his grapple gun and landed hard on the pavement. He was knocked out in a matter of seconds.
I stood there triumphantly until I remembered the nametags. I ran to the balcony. I bashed the button open with a hammer I found in the utility closet. When it opened, there was a ton of wires. I didn’t know which wires to cut I stated ripping at the wires. Surprisingly it worked, with a minimal amount of injuries.
The police showed up right when Hank was waking up they quickly cuffed him and threw him in the car.
After that me and my dad lived happily. Then Hank was transported to Paris and broke out but that’s another story.



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