Res Judicata by Vicki Grant

take-out, dump her stuff in the hall and start working on that stupid malicious prosecution case again. The worst part was that she usually had Chuck with her too.
    I was supposed to pick up after her, do the laundry, do the dishes, take out the garbage and just generally run around getting her anything her little heart, little belly or little black lungs desired. I didn’t mind the occasional trip to the law library—I was used to that at least. I’d been doing that for her for years. But I swear if I had to run down to Toulany’s once more to buy Chuck a “thoda,” I was going to scream. I mean, let him get his own pop! What was I—his servant or something? For some “timid” guy from backwoods Nova Scotia, he sure took to running the world pretty fast.
    I’d kick the lampposts the whole way to the store and back. I couldn’t believe how bad I’d messed things up this time! I’d gone and traded in a nice normal guy who actually cooked and cleaned and looked after us for some slob whotreated me like I was his house elf. I mean, come on! I didn’t owe Chuck Dunkirk anything. He never tried to save
my
life.
    I would have loved to say something to him, but I couldn’t. Andy would have totally lost it. All she could think of now was winning that stupid case. She kept on saying, “Just you wait! You’ll see, Cyril. This lawsuit will be worth millions! We’ll win and then we won’t have to worry about money anymore. I’ll buy us a nice little house somewhere in the North End. We’ll take a trip maybe, buy a new TV , a computer, another round of milkshakes—whatever we damn well feel like. The sky’s the limit! I’ll even buy you that stupid long board since you seem to want it so bad...”
    She made it sound like this was all about the money, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t about justice either, at least not justice for Chuck. If anything, it was about justice for Andy. I got this weird feeling she was working so hard on the case just to get back at Biff. It was as if she thought winning it was going to make him really sorry for walking away from her, for losing her, for doing whatever it was that he did to her. It didn’t make any sense, but that’s how I knew I was right. Andy never made any sense.
    The whole thing was nuts, but what could I do? If she needed me to buy Chuck a “thoda,” I bought him a “thoda.” It wasn’t all bad. For one thing, it got me out of the apartment for a while.
    For two, it’s how I caught Biff.

chapter 11
    Summons
The document used by the police to compel an accused
to attend court to answer charges against him or her.
    I was on my way to Toulany’s for Chuck’s pop. I took the back door. I didn’t usually go that way, but it was the nearest exit, and I had to get out fast. I was desperate for fresh air. These days, Andy was smoking like a wet log at a Boy Scout campfire.
    Chuck was producing his share of hot air too. If I had to listen to him say, “Now, I’m juth a thimple boy from back-woodth Nova Thcothia...” once more, I was going to scream. Who did he think he was kidding? The guy was a major Mr. Know-it-all. He’d act all humble and then argue with Andy as if he actually knew more about the law than she did. I don’t know why she took that crap from him.
    I had to escape.
    I pushed the garbage cans out of the way and stepped into the parking lot. I heard a sound—a crunching sound, as if someone just stomped on a cheap toy or a small chicken or something. It made me jump. I’m not as wimpy as that sounds. You never know what kind of stuff could be going on behind our apartment. You hear something back there, you jump. Even the tough guys jump. I flicked myhead around just in time to see a leg disappear down the side of the building.
    It was sort of dark and everything, and I only saw it for a second, but it didn’t