“Oh, my gosh! We got Judge Dredd,” I heard one of the older students whisper as we went into the court for sentencing two weeks later. I didn’t know who this Judge Dredd was, but it sure didn’t sound good. We had all pled guilty, so the trial part had been short, sweet, and polite. But this part might not have been so good.
“Judge Dredd” was an old lady judge. She didn’t look happy to see us at all. She frowned at us and said, “Your cause may be noble, but you have broken the law. You must now pay for your transgression.”
We had been told by our friends that the fines would be in the fifty- to five-hundred-dollar range. I could afford fifty dollars to help stop a war, so I was ready for that.
“And for you three, given that this is your first offense and you have good backgrounds and I see misunderstanding but no malice in your hearts, a fine of one thousand dollars … or one week of community service with Professor Oswald of your university.”
“One thousand dollars? That’s … that’s … that’s a semester’s tuition. I can’t afford that!” I thought as I suppressed a choking sound.
I looked at Maria and Jenny. They looked as wide-eyed and surprised as I was. The three of us looked behind us at this Professor Oswald, whoever he was! We saw a large man, heavy, with gray hair, and he was wearing a suit. Now that I think back, I remember seeing him hanging around the edges of the protest. He looked a little out of place there because he had on a shirt and slacks, not a T-shirt and jeans, but he didn’t do anything special. He just watched.
“Who are you?” I asked, looking at him.
“Professor Oswald,” Judge Dredd answered for him, “is a social psychology professor. And he has an experimental rehabilitation program he would like you to volunteer for. He has my support on this, so if you choose to do your community service with him and complete it, I will waive your fine. Let me stress that you must complete your service with him, all three of you, or you will have to pay.”
Hmm … spend a week being a professor’s maid, or spend three thousand dollars in fines? Yeah, a no-brainer. I took a quick look at Marci and Jenny, and we all three said simultaneously, “Community service, your honor.”
The judge smiled, nodded at the professor, and said, “Professor, I bind these young ladies over to you for one week of community service.”
This Professor Oswald moved up behind us and said, “Ladies, please put your hands behind you.”
I looked back again. He had plastic ties in his hands!
“What! I thought binding someone was a figure of speech!”
“Not in this case, my dear. Would you like to pay this fine instead? We take cash or cashier’s check.” Judge Dredd looked very judgelike.
I sighed, and once again, I put my arms behind me. He was quick. In fifteen seconds, my wrists were locked behind me. I blushed a little, because that same thrill that I had felt at the dean’s office when I had gotten tied was back again. Why couldn’t this be some studly boyfriend doing this?
Next, Maria and then Jenny were tied again.
“Ladies, if you will follow me.” He had a nice tenor voice, and he sounded like an educated professor should.
“Right now? Shouldn’t we meet you at your place. I mean, your office … tomorrow?” I thought I was going to yell that; however, his voice was deeply soothing, and with my hands tied behind me, yelling just didn’t seem right. I found I was asking politely.
“No need,” he replied airily. “We can start this afternoon and count it as a whole day … with your honor’s permission.” He looked at the judge, and she nodded.
“Follow, please.” And like he was a pied piper, we did.
It felt really strange walking out of that courthouse. It felt like Professor Oswald was a mother duck walking along and we were his ducklings struggling to keep up—our hands tied behind meant that we “waddled” even more—and I was seriously blushing. This was so embarrassing … and something else, too, but I didn't know what. I was the last, and about halfway across the big lobby, I found I was falling behind. I wasn’t really thinking about escaping but— He stopped suddenly and whirled around. He stopped so suddenly that Maria bumped into his stomach and Jenny stumbled into Maria.
He grinned at me and said, “You must be the short-legged one. Why don’t you switch to first in line?”
How he knew I was getting behind, I didn’t know, but I moved to the front of the line. As we finished crossing the lobby, he spun on us twice more, and I bumped into him both times. The second time it happened, it occurred to me that this professor was getting a “cheap shot” on my boobs when he did this spinning-and-bumping technique. I flushed, and when he did it a third time, I didn’t stop. I just plowed on into him and kept pushing.
“There!” I thought. “Have a real cheap shot!”
But as he backed up a few steps in the face of my charge, he laughed an easy laugh, and soon, we all were. It was a silly scene, and after that, we all felt a bit more relaxed.
His “car” in the parking lot was a white van with windows. He opened the door and there were no seats, just a carpeted floor.
“In you go, ladies, and I will take off your shoes. It keeps the carpet cleaner.”
We sat down on the carpet one-by-one and let him take off our shoes.
“Oh, and one more thing, I will be blindfolding you.”
“What for?” I asked, and he looked at me hard … waiting. “Professor?” I finally said.
He smiled and then continued, “It’s part of your community service. It sets the proper atmosphere.”
“It’s not so we won’t know where we’re going?” said Maria. He looked hard at her for a moment. “Professor?” she said, but she got the idea quickly, too.
“No, it’s not. We are going to my summer home. That’s where you will be doing your community service. It is, instead, to prepare you better for the learning experience upon which you are about to embark.”
He pulled out some old, silk ties and wrapped one over Jenny’s eyes.
“Training, professor?” I said. “I thought we would be helping the community.”
“You will be helping the community by becoming better community members yourselves,” he said and covered Maria’s eyes.
“This isn’t very standard community service is it?” I said as my eyes were covered.
“We should also get you out of those plastic ties. They will get uncomfortable quickly.” He cut the straps and tied us with lots of rope instead. He was right. It was much more comfortable. The rope didn’t pinch like the plastic had, and then we began our trip.
He was right about another thing, too. Riding along in the back of a van with your wrists tied and your eyes blindfolded did give you the oddest feelings. Somehow, I was both very nervous and very relaxed at the same time. I was nervous because I had no idea what would come next. I was relaxed because there was nothing I could do about the future while I was blindfolded and my hands were tied behind me.
I wondered what else he would be right about.