Trial By Sperm

Dan had a trial in the morning. He had to figure out how to defend some stupid kid who broke into an old woman’s apartment and then got conked over the head with a frying pan. But it might as well have been him on trial, sitting in that chair next to the judge, trying to explain to his wife and three sons how he violated the same rules he had imposed on them.

Dan tilted his head back and rubbed his eyes. It was late, past two in the morning. The rest of the house was asleep and he was alone in his small office with the cluttered desk and the leather sofa and the books on the shelves. The green lamp on the desk filled the room with a warm glow, but it did not help focus his concentration on the open books or the folders with the sheets of lined yellow paper covered with his scribbling.

He shook his head. Whose idea was it anyway to invite an exchange student to live with them for six months? Especially a girl when he had three horny teenage boys also living in the house? Especially a beautiful teenage girl? How could he help but be distracted? He had to be in court in seven hours and still he had no idea what he was going to tell the jury.

He shut the heavy blue book and lay his forehead on it, his head turning side to side. He was the one who was stupid. He was the one who should be on trial. It was all an accident, he would swear that, swear it on his mother’s grave. He never meant it to go as far as it did.

But it happened so quickly, and so easily. At the time he didn’t even realize what was happening. How could they blame him? It could happen to any man.

Her name was Faruza. She had been away from home for four months and she was lonely. It was only a week ago, the night after her eighteenth birthday. They were the only ones home; she probably thought she was alone. His wife was out shopping and the boys were out doing who knew what. He heard sobs from her room at the end of the hall and when he went in he found her on the bed, curled around her pillow. Her long, black hair was in tangles and her big, dark eyes were puffy and red with tears. He sat down to comfort her and it just went from there. First he was holding her, then he was kissing her, then he was touching her.

What a stupid mistake. His boys were the ones he thought he had to worry about. He never expected the rules he and his wife laid down to keep them away from her applied to everyone, or that he would break them himself. Already, he could see the old judge with the scowl on his face and his wife at the plaintiff’s table with tears running down her face.

He heard a soft tap and lifted his head off the blue law book. Was he hearing things? Was he dreaming? He put his forehead back on the book, but heard the tapping again. It was the door, someone was knocking at the door. Probably his wife checking on him. He got up, but the door opened a crack and Faruza’s face peeked in, her sweet, angelic face, framed by her long, dark hair.

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