"Thank you, Deputy," she said as she cut around the line.
"Noodle, ma'am," responded the deputy.
She stopped and could feel her brows drawing together. "Noodle? Oh, you're Deputy Noodle? I've heard about you. Can I ask? Is Noodle your actual name?"
"Heavens no! It's Eugene Miller."
"Where in the world did Noodle come from?"
He moved beside her and walked her through the waiting area and toward a set of double doors. "Everyone on the force has nicknames. The sheriff is Red. My partner is Dinky. And there's Biggy... the list goes on and on. I got mine because I like to noodle." They had stopped in front of the closed double doors that went into the courtroom.
"You cook a lot of Italian?"
Noodle let out a belly laugh. "No, ma'am, noodling is when I try to catch catfish with my bare hands. I find their nest and try to lure them out with my fingers. When they open their mouth to bite, I grab them just like a hook and pull them out."
He was joking, right? Kenna gave the smile she gave to the crazy people she met on the subways with a standard, "Oh, that's nice," response.
"I'll have to bring you out to our next competition. There will also be a carp shoot. There's usually a big turnout for that. Well, you'll want to get on in here. I'll be in there with you today, so just signal me if you need anything." He opened the doors before she could ask what the hell a carp shoot was.
Kenna walked into her new home and looked around. She'd be spending a lot of time in this room. It was large with an ornate ceiling and crown molding. A large, polished wooden bench stood at the far end. She had come in a few times to observe, but now she felt like she was part of the room, part of what the flags stood for, part of the Great Seal of Kentucky hanging above the bench. She had to walk through the public seating, then past the front tables and jury box where attorneys sat for motion hour. It surprised her to notice that there were fewer women here than in New York. In fact, there were no other women besides the clerks. Heads started turning to check out the new girl, and she saw many sly smiles from attorneys who assumed she was an easy target.
Henry gave her a little wave from where he was sitting at one of the tables. Henry suddenly became the cool kid in class that all the other kids wanted to sit by. Kenna waved back and went to meet Tom at the podium slightly to the right of the bench. He had a table placed slightly to the side piled with files he was putting in order.
“Good morning, Tom.”
“Ah, good morning, McKenna. I thought we’d try the sink-or-swim method. I'm sure you're used to it.”
Kenna nodded. Unfortunately she was familiar with it. The sink-or-swim method was when an older attorney would hand off a case or, in this instance, lots of cases. They stick you in front of a judge and tell you to go at it with no instruction or explanation. The lawyer either ends up making a huge mistake that gets her in trouble with the judge, or the lawyer manages to bullshit long enough to read the case file to figure out what is going on. In Kenna’s opinion, the practice was horrible. But for some reason, it was commonplace for a partner to be running late for a tee time, hand an associate a file in the courtroom, and say “handle this” just before the case is called before the judge.
Kenna looked at the stack of about twenty files and sighed.
“Come on over here and meet Judge Cooper. He’s back in chambers but is expecting you.” Tom led Kenna around the bench and through a door. She entered a room filled with law books and saw a bushy man in his late sixties sitting behind a huge desk.
“Good morning, Tom. So this is your new girl." Turning to Kenna, he introduced himself. "Bert Cooper, nice to meet you.”
“McKenna Mason. It’s nice to meet you, too, Judge Cooper.” Kenna looked him over and liked what she saw. He had big, bushy gray brows that sat over thick glasses that made his eyes appear to take up his whole face. His rounded belly gave him both a jovial and authoritative appearance at the same time.
“We'll get along fine as long as you do just a few things,” he said as Kenna nodded in response. “Don’t interrupt anyone. I know big city lawyers like to come in here and espouse some great legal theory in long prose. But it’s for me to interrupt, not you. Secondly, know your law, Miss Mason. I won’t tolerate your adding incorrect charges or citing the wrong statute. I know you’re new, so I recommend you bring your copy of the penal code with you. I'll give you a moment to consult it if needed and prefer you to do so instead of guessing. Lastly, if you don’t know something, say so. Nothing I can abide less than someone making shit up to see what flies. If you can manage to do that, then we’ll get along just fine. You have any questions for me, Miss Mason?”