Judge Swing

              I was bicycling and debating with the pretty brown-haired Judge. It was after dark so I didn't want her to have to bicycle home alone, especially since her bike didn't have a light on it. She rode in front and I had loaned her my wind-up light so she could see the road ahead. My bike had a working tail-light so I rode right behind her.
              During the trip, we were discussing the case of a student who posted a link that led to a video of a comedian who was reading the preamble to the constitution, translated into “Ebonics.” Not in and of itself a problem, except that the video was profuse with profanity. The parents, of course, sued the school district for violating the student's first amendment rights. A fairly complex case, because the words and video, were not in fact the students. The link had been accompanied by a warning about the profanity, and it was only posted in the comments section of a class forum.
              I made the argument that the removal of the video from its site would be a first amendment violation, if the creators had posted it. The Judge indicated that the school owned the forum and therefore had the right to remove the offending link and discipline the student. I listened to her argument, and told her that I had to agree, up to a point. The infraction was one of bringing a profanity laced publication into a discussion, to which it was, in fact, relevant, not one of misusing a computer in an attempt to harm the network or affect another's use of the system. So the schools punishment, a semester banished from using the computer, was akin to a school punishing a “Playboy” recommender by telling them they couldn't read anything for a semester.
              She asked what I thought a proper punishment would be.
              I told her that I didn't really believe in punishment as much as restitution. So in this case, I would say an apology was in order, a reiteration of the code of conduct as it involved the classroom forum, and I would tell the student that otherwise they did a good job of using their specific skills they'd learned to branch out into the realm of public discourse, which is, after it's all said and done, exactly what we want them to be able to do.
              The judge nearly crashed her bike and I had a hard time braking in time to keep from piling on.
              “You just made me change my mind. No one ever does that.”
              “You're a judge, I thought you were supposed to keep an open mind.”
              “You don't have to after you've made a decision. The parents would have been much better off having you as an attorney. You conceded the First Amendment point by going completely around it and went right to the meat of the matter. They didn't think the punishment imposed was appropriate. Too bad they didn't argue that.”
              “It gets into the whole mandatory sentencing thing, where we forget that we are human beings with human failings and that justice is a human concept not a natural concept. We end up trying to eliminate the human from justice in the name of fairness, but then lose that essential part of the whole idea of justice.”
              The Judge just looked at me, an odd expression on her face. “There's street lights, I'll race you home,” and with that she took off like a shot.
              I took off after her, but was no where near in as good a shape as her, and with her head start she vanished around the bend before I could see where she went. Fortunately I remembered the name of the street where she lived and was able to brake and turn in when it came up. The house, I thought, was going to be tough to find if I didn't see her bike outside.
              There was only one house with lights, on, though, so I rolled up to the house and knocked on the door.
              A teen opened the door, I hesitated, as the judge didn't have any children. The teen was very perceptive, and smiled, “She's my aunt, come in.” The teen skipped into the front room where there were piles of luggage and the rest of her family.
              The teen's father, I was guessing because of the age difference and similar hair and skin tones, greeted me, “So, you're the one my baby sister is in love with.”
              I blushed. “We're friends, just biked home from visiting my wife and I.”
              At that point the judge came into the room, having all ready taken off her jacket and with a towel around her neck. Her blouse was a very silky looking shimmer of creme that clung to her breasts and hung damply from her erect nipples. I tried not to stare. She took my arm and introduced me around.
              “I have your flashlight in my room. Come see the rest of the house, you haven't been here yet.”
              I followed her on a tour of the house. I pretty much forgot it all when we got to her room. A large mirror made up the headboard, and the canopy bed was done up in leopard patterned sheers with a chocolate brown cover. There was a trapeze or swing seat at the foot of the bed which she raised up out of the way with the soft whirr of electric motors.
              “Wow, sexy,” I turned to take in the whole low but warmly lit cream and brown experience. I suppressed the urge to make a swinging comment.
              “Not what you expected from a middle aged Judge?”
              “You're not yet middle aged, and no, seeing it, I have to say it fits you.”
              I looked into her eyes and immediately saw trouble. She was, in fact in love with me, or at least lust.
              “I have something else for you, just a moment I have to make sure our trip gets off. Wait right here.”
              I waited a moment or two, and then the whole house lurched and swung. I felt a slight acceleration and stepped out into the front room. “Where's...”
              “She's gone to make sure the connections are set.” The older brother pointed to the front door. “She said we should all wait her until she returns." The house rocked gently.
              “Right. I have to get home, though, so I'll see if I can catch up to her.”
              I opened the front door. The whole house had been set down on a rail car and was rolling towards a siding. I could see the judge up ahead along side the tracks, ahead of the electric engine that was pulling us. The front door was attached to a long horizontal pole, steel with the yellow enamel warning stripes peeling in places it was at least twenty feet long. The pole looked like it was about to catch onto brush along side the tracks so I stepped out and pushed the door shut behind me.
              “You're going to ruin the surprise!” came a shout from far ahead in the darkness.
              “I have to get home.”
              “Come with me, we're vacationing in the Rockies this year, three weeks.”
              “N's going to be waiting for me.”
              “I've been waiting for you. My whole life.”
              I walked along side the slowing house, realizing that my bike was back in the yard, so I would have to walk all the way back and I had the idea that was pretty far now.
              “I haven't anything packed.”
              “I'll keep you warm, and happy.”
              “I have no doubt, and that's really an attractive offer. I don't have words for how attractive. But you really wouldn't want a man who would drop his commitment to you for the first highly educated, intellectually stimulating and sexy woman who came along, would you?”
              “How often has that happened to you?”
              “Twice, I married the first one.”
              “But, you're the right one for me, and you know it.”
              We stood across the switch control looking into one another's eyes. I could feel the longing.
              “I have fallen in love with you, mister.”
              “And I with you, despite by best efforts not to. But I have made other promises...”
              “Which you will keep, making me love you all the more.”
              She wrapped herself around me and I held her as the house creaked to a stop behind us.
              “Let's call N and let her know I'm sending you home late.”
              "I don't know that she'd go for that." There was a large part of me that was concerned that this was a ploy to get me back in the house where I would be trapped. Even if it wasn't a trap, I didn't know that I would have the strength to leave again.
              “Or, better yet, let's call N and invite her along.” The Judge took my hand and lead me back towards the front door.
              I pulled out my cell phone, which brought a pout (a very sexy pout) to the Judge's cherubic face, my suspicions deepened.