Short Story: Attention Accepted

by Deborah L. King

Robert Bryant stopped in his tracks as white fog suddenly clouded his view. 

“Do you wish to continue walking?” the gender-neutral voice at his ear asked.

Robert touched the tiny button on the left side of the frame of his Cloud Visor.

“Please remain still until your lens clears. Estimated wait time twenty seconds. Focal tracking now engaged.”

Robert closed his eyes, stood still, and began counting to himself. At three seconds, he heard the rhythmic footsteps of a jogger coming up behind him. At six seconds, he felt the person pass on his right side; and at seven, he smelled her sweat and perfume carried back to him on the morning breeze . At ten seconds, he opened his eyes and, through the fading white fog in his visor, he could just make out the dark brown curves of the jogger. He tried to look elsewhere as she bounded into the distance, but her gravity defying hair and neon green shoes made it hard not to look. At twelve seconds the tiny green light in the corner of his right lens turned to yellow. At fifteen seconds, though she was barely visible, the light was flashing red and Robert quickly closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths before continuing his walk to the subway.

He always felt a little dirty after this kind of near miss. It really wasn’t her fault he was running late. Had he left on time, he wouldn’t have seen her. No woman deserves to be visually raped just because he overslept and was out on the street when he should have been at work. She had every right to jog naked and not worry about being ogled and harassed .

Descending the steps to the subway, Robert thanked JCN Tech for the invention of Cloud Visors. They kept men from being sex offenders by clouding the lens from temple to temple when a woman approached. You can’t rape what you can’t see. Of course, some women didn’t mind attention, but no man in his right mind would dare take that chance and end up facing charges. Women who really wanted attention carried JCN Tech’s Attention Accepted transponder that told the Cloud Visors they were available.  At the bottom of the subway stairs, a red AA lit up in the corner of Robert’s visor. He scanned the rushing crowd until his eyes landed on an old woman leaning against a dingy wall. The red AA turned green.

“Good morning.” Robert smiled at her as he dropped fifty cents into the woman’s cup. She grunted acknowledgement but said nothing more. She would accept a greeting in exchange for a few coins, but she wouldn’t respond for a mere fifty cents.

Deeper into the subway, he got another green AA. A young woman leaning against a pillar wore tight jeans, a red crop top with AA in gold sequins, and a deep frown. Probably a college student needing train fare. “C’mon Beautiful, give us a smile!” Robert said. The pale brunette turned up the corners of her mouth as he reached for his wallet. She broke into a wide grin when he pulled out a ten-dollar bill. When she tossed her long curly hair, he pulled out another five and dropped the money into the Pinky Lingerie shopping bag at her feet.

Navigating the subway passages before eight or after nine in the morning was always a bit difficult with his visor seeming to cloud every two seconds. He moved slowly, following the guidance of the voice, “Step. Step. Step. Right. Step. Step…” and mostly avoided incidents. If he brushed an innocent woman, she’d easily know it was an accident because he couldn’t see her.

Seated in the men’s subway car, Robert read the police blotter displayed on his visor. More stories of guys getting caught with fake visors, staring at women without their permission. These serial rapists always got long sentences. A guy could find pictures of women anywhere, and live women begging for attention everywhere . What kind of idiot stands on the street mentally undressing women? But then, there were the false accusations, too. Women with AA transponders saying they forgot to turn them off. Lots of innocent guys getting caught up because some woman decided to go shopping wearing nothing but the AA earrings her husband didn’t know she had.

The walk from the subway to his job at the Saffo County Courthouse went quickly. By now women were safely in their offices and homes so he pretty much had the street to himself with no danger of sudden clouding. The courthouse loudspeakers continuously announced that all who entered agreed to audio and video surveillance, and all reports of personal interaction violations would be investigated and prosecuted.

Robert stashed his visor in an inside pocket, and bypassed the long lines winding their way through the metal detectors. “Morning, Dave,” he said, waving his badge at the security guard and hurrying to courtroom 3B. Outside the door, he straightened his jacket, smoothed his hair, and adjusted the antique tie clip he’d gotten from a particularly grateful client. His first case wasn’t scheduled until ten o’clock, and as a public defender, he was the only thing standing between a lot of innocent men and a fire breathing prosecutor.

Entering the courtroom, he glanced at the prosecution’s table, careful not to look too long. Karen, whose last name he could never remember, was his opponent today. She was tough and competent and had probably been there for hours poring over the stack of files in front of her. Robert took his seat at the defense table and groaned; there must have been at least twenty folders there. Flipping through the stack, he saw that some were simple, open and shut, easy convictions for fake visors and catcalling. A few more were first time offenders simply “stunned by beauty.” Most of the defendants had already pled guilty or no contest. He’d argue for light sentences and expungement. Some he could even get off altogether.  Then he opened the case for Michael Dey. This would be a long one.

“All rise!”

At the bailiff’s call, the faces of the twenty defendants appeared collaged on the monitors around the courtroom. While spectators, reporters, and alleged victims could see the faces of all the defendants in their holding booths in another room, the defendants could only see the front of the courtroom. Robert closed the folder and stood up. In his periphery, he saw Karen do the same.

“Saffo County Vice Court is now in session. The honorable Judge Kendall Bailey presiding.”

Judge Bailey banged the gavel and sat down at the bench. “Be seated. Let’s get started, Bailiff.”

The bailiff motioned for the gallery to be seated. “The People versus Mark Spencer please approach the bench!”

Robert picked up a manila folder and adjusted his tie while his grim-faced defendant appeared on the monitors around the courtroom. He nodded at Karen, who didn’t acknowledge his courtesy as she strode past him to be the first at the bench. The case went quickly. Mark Spencer pled guilty to harassment. Robert got him a year of probation plus community service, and no sex offender registration.

The People versus Jerry Ellers was tougher. The octogenarian refused to wear his cloud visor, and he sat on his porch each morning greeting all the passers-by whether they wanted a greeting or not. Finally, a woman complained when he told her to cover up because of the cold. Voyeurism and harassment. Karen Persecutor-of-Old-Men wanted jail time, but Robert managed to get him off with counseling and house arrest.

Prosecution and defense took turns smiling and frowning as each case was decided. The people selling fake visors got hefty fines for counterfeiting, and the men knowingly using the fake visors got months or years in jail. The men with no accusers in court had their cases dismissed, and the innocent women who suffered the trauma of being looked at or spoken to received justice. Each case took less than ten minutes, and they got through quite a few before midday break.

For lunch, Robert munched an apple and studied the afternoon’s cases. A few more quick cases and then the tough one. Michael Dey had pled not guilty to visual rape and requested a bench trial. The police report was pretty straight-forward, and it appeared to be a lot of he-said-she-said, but Michael was facing a few years in prison if he lost. Touching the speed-dial on his JCN Tech watch, Robert made a few notes while the call connected.

“Hey Joe! It’s Rob Bryant. How ya’ been? Yeah, I’m great. Of course, I still have it. I wear my lucky tie clip every day. Listen Joe, I need a favor really quick. There’s a bar on Fletcher in the Hunnit section called Slappy’s. Know the place? Kinda divey and crappy food? Yeah, that’s the one. I need you to go there and ask around about a woman name Meredith Carter. You write that down? Yeah, m-e-r-e-d-i-t-h. Short, redhead, early thirties, drives a champagne colored Bada. Yeah, fancy. Ask around at Slappy’s and a few other places on the block. Get back to me. Real quick. C’mon, Joe. You know I can’t talk about the case. Yeah, just send me whatever you find out in the next hour or so. Thanks, Joe.” Ending the call, Robert smiled to himself. Good old Joe. Ever since winning Joe’s rape case, Joe could always be counted on to help Robert defend other men. Forty-five minutes later, as the bailiff called the court to order, Robert scribbled notes from Joe’s text messages into Michael Dey’s file.

After five or six more cases, the bailiff finally called The People versus Michael Dey. Michael’s face appeared on the monitors, while Mrs. Meredith Carter approached the bench to be sworn in and take the witness stand. Robert was careful not to look too closely at her, but the police description had been accurate. Short, mid-thirties, crayon-red hair. Today, she wore a shapeless brown dress with her hair pulled back in a tight bun. Robert would’ve bet a mint that it wasn’t pulled back that afternoon at Slappy’s bar.

Karen Smart-and-Professional waited beside the witness stand. “Good afternoon. Please state your name for the record.” She directed her question to Mrs. Carter but stood facing the courtroom.

Mrs. Carter leaned into the microphone. “Meredith Elaine Dixon Carter.”

Robert watched her face, careful not to stare or glance below her neck. She looked nervous, and her eyes stayed fixed toward the back of the room. Her husband was probably back there, but Robert didn’t turn to check.

“Mrs. Carter,” Karen Protector-of-Innocent-Victims placed a steady hand on Mrs. Carter’s trembling one. “Please tell the court what happened on the afternoon of July seventh.”

“Well, I was driving home and my car started making a strange noise, so I got off of the freeway to find a service station. I didn’t see one, so I stopped at a restaurant to get directions.”

“Why didn’t you use your phone GPS or call for roadside assistance?” Robert wasn’t surprised that Karen asked the obvious question first.

“My phone was dead, and I didn’t have my charger.”

“I see. Please continue.”

“Well, I went in the restaurant, and they let me call my husband, and he said he would be there in two hours, so I sat down and waited.”

“And then what happened.”

“I ordered a cola because I didn’t think I should take up a seat and not buy anything, and a guy offered to buy me another one, but I said no.”

“Ok, Mrs. Carter. I know this may be difficult, but please tell the court what happened next.” Karen The-Acting-Coach had obviously spent her lunch break helping Mrs. Carter with her testimony. The rise and fall of her voice and Karen’s soothing tones made the drama palpable.

“Well, he kept at it. He even threatened me with…”

“Please say it, Mrs. Carter. I know it’s embarrassing, but we need this on the record.”

“He threatened me…he threatened me with oral sex.” Meredith Carter brought her hands to her face. Her blush was almost the same color as her hair.

Robert heard stirring and grumbling throughout the courtroom.

“Then he followed me outside and stared down my blouse. And I asked him to stop several times and he wouldn’t stop looking at me. Up and down my body. He even tried to get me to disrobe. Thank god, my husband got there early. The guy went back into the restaurant and my husband called the police.”

Karen The-Tough-Prosecutor looked around the courtroom. “Is that guy, the man who stared at you, the man who harassed and violated you—”

“Objection!” Robert stood up. “There has been no finding of guilt, your honor—”

“Sustained!” Robert sat back down. “Tone it down counselor. This is a bench trial, not a stage.”

“I’m sorry, your honor.” Karen faced the courtroom. “Is That Guy in the courtroom today? If so, please point him out.” Robert didn’t think she looked the least bit sorry.

“Yes, he is. He’s right there, up on the screen.” Meredith Carter pointed up at the monitor. Michael Dey closed his eyes and shook his head. Since he had no sound, the court could only read his lips mouthing the word no.

“Let the record show that Mrs. Meredith Carter has identified Michael Dey,” the judge said. “Please continue.”

Karen turned to the judge. “No further questions, your honor.”

The judge looked at Robert. “Counselor?”

“Not right now, your honor. But I’d like to recall Mrs. Carter after we hear from Mr. Dey.”

“Very well. Mrs. Carter, you may step down.”

As Meredith Carter went to her seat, a monitor rose from the front panel of the witness stand and Michael Dey’s face appeared. An audible click indicated that his microphone was on.

“Hi Mike,” Karen began. She didn’t look up from the folder she was reading. “State your full name and any aliases for the record.”

“Um…my name is Michael Alan Dey.” He sounded confused and afraid. Robert had talked to him just long enough to get his side of the story and to verify the info he got from Joe. The twenty-three-year old, a recent graduate, had never been in serious trouble. Since he couldn’t make bail, he’d been locked up for over a month and lost his job. A conviction meant no chance of ever finding another job—his college degree wasted.

“Are you,” Karen continued, “also the frat boy known as Mike the Mack?”

“Uh…no, ma’am.”

“Really?” Karen Stalking-Her-Prey paced back and forth in front of the monitor, never looking at the defendant’s face; only looking at the court.

Robert hated the whole defendant booth concept. They allowed the defendants to stay safely outside the courtrooms and participate through video monitors. Supposedly to protect them from angry plaintiffs, what the booths actually did was dehumanize the defendants, and some prosecutors treated the defendants like they weren’t even there. Karen The-Tough-Prosecutor was a pro at dehumanizing defendants.

“Oh really?” Karen asked. “You’re not Mighty Mike and Monster Mike?”

Robert stood up again. “Objection! Your honor, college nicknames? Really?”

“Overruled, for now. This had better make sense, Counselor.”

“Of course, your honor.” She turned and looked out at the court. “I believe Mike had a reputation to maintain, and Mrs. Carter was a victim of that reputation.”

“Objection! Baseless speculation.”

“Sustained! Ask relevant questions, counselor. I’m the only one in this room you need to convince.”

“Pardon me, your honor.”

“That’s your last warning, Counsellor.”

“Again, I’m sorry. I’ll move on.”

Robert knew she was only sorry she didn’t have a more receptive audience. She grilled Michael Dey for at least fifteen minutes, but never looked at him, never used his name. Her demoralizing tactics worked. He admitted to looking at Mrs. Carter. He admitted to offering to buy her drinks. Karen Annihilator never let him actually complete an answer and Michael was visibly frustrated. Robert didn’t mind, though. His turn was coming, and he almost felt guilty about what he was planning.

Almost.

“No more questions, your honor.” Karen Smug-Self-Satisfied returned to her seat at the prosecution’s table without ever once looking at the man she was trying to send to prison.

“Your turn, Counsellor.” The judge nodded in Robert’s direction.

Robert glanced one more time at the folder, then stood and approached the witness stand. “Thank you, your honor. Good afternoon, Mr. Dey.”  Robert kept his tone friendly and professional. “I’ll try to keep this brief. Please tell us what happened the afternoon of July seventh.”

Michael Dey sighed and smiled a little. “I was at Slappy’s watching the game and a lady comes in and sits down right next to me. She used the phone and then asked me to buy her a drink, so I bought her one. We talked for a while and then went outside.”

“Ok, Mr. Dey, just a few questions. Do you always sit in restaurants and buy drinks when a woman asks you to?”

“Um, not in restaurants, no. But a bar like Slappy’s? Sure. That’s why we go there. It’s an AA bar. There’s a great big sign at the door, and over the bar. It’s even printed on the napkins.”

“Oh. What do these signs say?”

“Welcome to Slappy’s. This is an Attention Accepted establishment. All patrons may be subjected to attention, complements, etc. Enter at your own risk.”

“So wait,” Robert didn’t try to keep the smirk out of his voice, “A strange woman sat down beside you in a clearly marked AA Bar, and you bought her drinks just because she asked?”

“No, sir.” Michael sighed again. “She wasn’t a stranger. I buy her drinks there all the time—”

“Objection! Relevance?”

Robert didn’t even glance back at the prosecution table. If Karen Condescending was on her feet, it was so she could grasp at straws.

“Overruled! Continue Counsellor.”

“Thank you, your honor.” Robert smiled back at Michael’s image on the monitor. Apparently, he was enjoying this too. “So, Mr. Dey, you had prior contact with this woman…contact before July seventh? What was her name, Mr. Dey?”

“Mary, or Merry Mary. Some guys at other bars called her Little Red. I never knew her real name.”

“Objection! Hearsay!”

“Overruled!”

“Ok, ok. Tell us, Mr. Dey, what did you and this Merry Mary talk about…inside the bar?”

“Nothing in particular. She told me her car sounded funny, and I… uh… told her how nice she looked because I’d never seen her in a suit before…”

“How did you compliment her? I mean, how did you try to compliment her? What, exactly, did you say?”

On the screen, Michael hung his head. “I told her she looked good enough to eat and that I wanted to get under her hood.” Low grumbling came from the courtroom. “But that’s just how we talk at Slappy’s. Hell, she said I probably had the only tool she needed—”

“Objection! Provocative conversation is not consent to be violated! And how is this even relevant? This could be an entirely different person. Maybe he raped more than one woman that day!”

The grumbling in the court grew louder. A female voice wailed “Noooo!” Robert didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. He would have been well within his rights to object to Karen’s objection. The judge tapped the gavel a few times and called for order.

“Sustained! Mr. Dey watch your language. Counselor, this story appears to be pointless,”

“Of course, your honor. I’ll get to the point. Mr. Dey, please describe the woman you bought drinks for, and bantered provocatively with. What does Merry Mary look like?”

On the screen, Michael smiled again. “She’s not too tall, about five feet three except when she has on six-inch heels. She’s got bright red hair, red like paint. Um…she has a tiny flame tattoo on the side of her right…uh…breast. She showed it to me a few times.”

“Is Merry Mary in the courtroom today? Do you see her here?” The monitors switched to a view of the courtroom.

“Yes, she’s right there. In the front row next to the guy in the green tie. She has bright red hair and a brown top and glasses. The guy next to her just took his arm away.”

“Let the record show, Mr. Dey has indicated Mrs. Meredith Carter.” The judge said. “Ok Counsellor, let’s wrap it up.”

 “Of course, your honor. I’m almost done. Now, Mr. Dey, what happened when you and Mrs. Carter stepped outside?”

“I was gonna take a look at her car. Honest. The top was down, and I said ‘Wow, you really like red,’ because the interior was red leather and she said ‘yeah… red is my favorite color’ and I looked down and her suit jacket was open and she had on this bright red bra with lace butterflies.”

“Objection! Your honor, clothing, or the lack thereof, is not an invitation to rape!”

“You are correct, Counsellor, but your objection is overruled. Continue.”

“Ok. Thank you, judge. Then she asked me if I liked what I saw, and… well… I said yeah.”

“So. you looked down into her slightly open jacket, and?” Robert tried and failed to hide his own amusement.

“No sir, not slightly. It was unbuttoned all the way and pulled back almost off her shoulders. And then suddenly she just starts goin’ crazy and screaming that I’m raping her, and a guy comes outta nowhere and takes a swing at me. She starts crying and hugging the guy, saying how glad she is that he got there when he did. I just went back in the bar, and then the police showed up.” Michael Dey leaned back a bit from the camera. He looked tired, but relieved that his whole story was out.

“Mr. Dey, last question. Did you harass or rape Mrs. Carter?”

“No sir, I did not harass or rape Mrs. Carter.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dey. No further questions.”

 “Redirect, Counsellor?” The judge nodded to Karen Something.

“Yes, your honor.” she said. “One question. Mike, how many times outside of the restaurant did Mrs. Carter ask you to stop looking at her?”

“Well, she sort of said it a lot, but – …”

“That’s all, Mike. You’ve answered the question.” 

Robert made eye contact with the judge. “May I redirect your honor?”

“Go ahead, Counsellor. Make it quick.”

“Thank you, your honor. Mr. Dey, when asking you to stop looking at her, what exactly did Mrs. Carter say?”

“Um…she said things like ‘you should stop if your heart can’t take it.’ and she said I shouldn’t be so naughty, and she said…um…well…”

“Go ahead, Mr. Dey. This is very important.”

“She said I should stop because the look in my eye was making her nipples hard.”  Michael Dey kept his head down but couldn’t hide his smile.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Dey. Your honor, I have no further questions for Mr. Dey. May I recall Mrs. Carter now?”

The judge sighed. “Go ahead, Counsellor.”

As Mrs. Carter took the witness stand, Robert could help but notice her smeared mascara. It was always this way with false accusations. A lonely wife sneaks out for a little fun and attention. Husband shows up. Wife is caught, so she cries rape. That fancy car, and nice clothes… probably a big house… maybe kids. Being an attention addict might have cost her everything. But she specifically asked for it and actively participated in it. She didn’t just let it happen, she made it happen. And now, she was trying to make Michael Dey pay for it. Not on my watch.

“Mrs. Carter, I have just a few questions for you. Are you familiar with Flirtations, Copherbox, Jezzy’s, and or Flint’s Double A?”

“Um…I don’t know…”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Carter, I can’t hear you. May I remind you you’re still under oath.”

“I’m not sure…maybe…”

Robert ignored the tremble in her voice and the pleading in her eyes. “Let me help you if I can. They’re all AA Bars, not restaurants; clearly marked Attention Accepted BARS on Fletcher. When I made a few calls asking about a petite woman with brightly dyed red hair, they all had the same general answer. Merry Mary, or Little Red. Flint calls her Big Red because her heels make her taller than him, or Red Hot. Oh I like this one: Chili Sauce. They all said she drove an off-white convertible with red interior. Know what else? They all mentioned her red butterfly bra.” Robert leaned against the witness stand and lowered his voice.  “And um…Flint said she had a matching thong —”

“Objection! Your honor not only is he badgering her and trying to testify, but this line of questioning is inappropriate and inadmissible! A rape victim’s social history cannot be considered—”

“Your honor, a legitimate rape victim’s social history can’t be considered. A liar who gets caught and chooses to destroy a man’s life before admitting her own guilt has no such protections—”

“Your honor, Mrs. Carter is not on trial here—”

“Your honor, she should be! She’s in an AA bar, wearing an AA uniform, accepting drinks and attention and when her husband shows up early, she cries rape! She’s wasting the court’s time and a man’s future is at stake because she—”

The courtroom was in an uproar. Mrs. Carter sobbed loudly. On the monitor, Michael Dey grinned and nodded his head. The judge banged the gavel and called for order.

“Counsellors, you’re both done. Mrs. Carter, you may step down. Bailiff, help Mrs. Carter down.”

“But your honor—”

“I said you’re done. Does the defense rest?”

Robert knew it really wasn’t a question. “Yes, your honor. The defense rests.” Walking back to the defense table, he noticed Mrs. Carter in the first row with her face in her hands. She was alone. The man in the green tie had left the courtroom.  Robert felt only a little sorry for her. A very little.

After a brief recess, Judge Bailey dismissed all charges against Michael Dey, ordered Meredith Carter to pay court costs, and fined her for false reporting.

By the day’s end, Robert Bryant, Public Defender, had saved Michael Dey and thirteen other men from the sex offender registry and even referred Michael Dey to a civil attorney. He couldn’t help smiling on his ride home. It had been a very good day. Joe really came through this time. He’d have to send him a special thank-you. And though he’d never dare say it, he always enjoyed working against Karen What’s-Her-Face. She challenged him. He liked that.

After the tough day, a stop for take-out, and a long hot shower, Robert finally settled down in front of his computer. He thanked JCN Tech for the easy maintenance of their old machines. The J-Tech 3 had been a gift from Joe along with the tie clip. The old USB pin, held together with electrical tape, fit perfectly into the two-millimeter port on the tie clip. Robert sipped his after-dinner wine and watched the old-fashioned monitor screen flicker to life. There was the jogger from this morning. Her deep brown skin glowing in the morning sun, her naked flesh with just enough fat jiggling perfectly with every footfall. He shifted in his seat and fast forwarded a bit. There was the woman he brushed in the subway. When she reached up to hold her hat, he got a perfect view of the side of her left breast, creamy white with a bit of pink lace.  Meredith Carter walking to the witness stand. She moved on her toes, like walking in the flat brown shoes was foreign to her.

Yeah, he could get pictures and videos of women anywhere; even live ones begging for attention on the street.

But these women…these women in their everyday lives…not asking for it…not wanting it…not even knowing…just living…just…just…

Robert leaned back in his chair and placed a napkin across his lap as he switched the video to slow motion and watched Karen Too-Cocky-For-Her-Own-Good’s gray silk mini skirt and matching stilettos approaching the bench.