#79 I, Isabel Scheherazade, write a respectful letter to the judge.

by storytellerisabel


In the Redwall* stories, the badgers live long, exert huge strength, and are tremendously honorable. I love them, especially Constance. When enemies threaten, they get the red-eyed blood lust which helps them battle for the good. When the blood lust fades and the enemy’s vanquished, they get hungry. Well, my blood lust has faded too, replaced with a hunger to make this come out right.  So I write my letter to the judge. Here it is:

Dear Honorable Judge Sweeney,

I’m writing in regard to the sentencing of Mr. Smith who on the night of June 23rd ran a red light. He was on his way home from his second job; he must have fallen asleep.  He killed my parents, leaving me and my twin brothers, Sam and Clyde, orphans.

Since 6/23, we’ve lived with Mimi and Pop, Dad’s parents. In the beginning the bowls of sorrow I ate from overflowed, and dessert was always hatred. Then my friend Olivia and I became the official buddies (you need to be there to get how the Buddy program works) to a first-grader named Arturo. This little kid stopped talking when his Mama died of cancer. Through stories and our Little Books, we got him talking. He drew pictures of his Papa and the Zia who came from Italy to help care for him so his Papa could work. (In all of Arturo’s books his first picture always shows the Papa with his head in his hands.) We love this kid, and through him came to love the gentle, sad father. When I discovered that the dear Papa and the hated guy who killed Mom and Dad were the same, I realized Mr. Smith shouldn’t go to jail, let alone have any key thrown away.

Arturo’s Papa has had enough punishment. He’ll serve time for the rest of his life because, even when good things happen to him, right around the corner of his memory will be my dead Mom and Dad. I know this for sure because that’s how it is for me.

So, please don’t send him to jail. Little kids need their parents, or at least one, especially if they don’t have a deep bench like my brothers and I do.  (Zia’s sweet , but she’s very new to how it all works here.)

Respectfully yours,

Isabel Scheherazade.