Homeless

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Reminiscing on what he felt was “the good old days” in the streets of Detroit he called home, Lonnie McKay, accused serial killer, was abruptly snapped back to the reality of what was currently taking place: his trial.

* * *

“Case MI-1966217-R; the
People of Michigan v. Lonnie Eugene McKay
.” Pudgy in build, the bailiff held in his stomach while still trying to make sure he was being clearly heard. Pretending not to care the case was being recorded by the court TV cameras, he then handed a thick manila folder to the presiding judge. With an expression of arrogance, Officer Martis then passed off a small collection of white and pink documents to the secretary. He was in his element making direct eye contact with the humbled, innocent-eyed defendant. The bailiff slightly pulled up his pants, letting the perpetrator, along with the victims' families, know he was all about his business, and this was
his
house.

“Thank you,” the newly elected judge nervously replied while staring out into the shoulder to shoulder packed courtroom. As the bright lights of media cameras shined in her face, small beads of perspiration started to form. “Let me look this over. Everyone, please be patient. And, of course, please remain quiet as I do so. Don't take time to do anything else besides being as still as possible.”

“I hope you burn in hell, you fucking monster,” an angry voice rang out, followed by another person leaping to his feet.

“Yeah, I swear when you get to jail, my people gonna be waiting for your evil ass! You gonna pay in blood, you bitch!”

The judge wasted no time attempting to regain order in her courtroom. “Officer Martis, can you and the other officers please escort both of them not only out of this room, but the building as well.”

“Judge, he strangled my sister in the back of an alley and left her to die behind a garbage can like she was an old stray cat,” the man, still on his feet, tried breaking free from his wife's hold. “He needs to die just like that!”

The judge ignored the man's heartfelt statement in regards to his deceased sibling, knowing she had a job to do. “Okay now, I just said I was not going to tolerate any sort of commotion, and I meant it. The next outburst will result in contempt paired with incarceration and fines. Now, if there are any more persons in this courtroom who feel they can't control themselves, please take the time to leave right now.” She took the time to scan the room. “I completely understand that five families have been tragically affected by these terrible crimes. And although I completely sympathize with your heightened emotions, I cannot, and will not, allow this system, this courtroom, or these jurors, to be compromised. Justice will be served.”

The accused, Lonnie McKay, didn't flinch as his life was threatened. He didn't say a single word while the loved ones of the women whose lives he ended paraded out, one by one, most in tears. It was as if he was oblivious of what was taking place or just had no remorse. As the last person vowed to “see him again,” Lonnie finally turned his face toward the court TV camera and disrespectfully grinned.

This high-profile case was one the city of Detroit would never forget. Every “t” had to be crossed and every “i” dotted. There was no room for error; not in any murder trial when a person's freedom was hanging in the balance and the victim's family sought justice. However, this instance was one criminal case that reared its ugly head once every blue moon. The eyes of the entire world were focused on the outcome of the trial of the century; the trial of the “Homeless Shelter Maniac,” Lonnie Eugene McKay. The prescription pill-addicted resident was accused of callously kidnapping, torturing, and brutally murdering five people, mostly homeless women and one man, within a year's span. After the Detroit police reluctantly allowed the federal authorities to assist them in the manhunt for Mister McKay, he was quickly apprehended and brought to justice. After tons of witnesses and testimony, today would finally be the killer's day of reckoning. The five families could maybe have some small sort of closure and peace.

“Okay, everything seems to be in order.” The judge looked up at both attorneys as well as the accused directly in his eyes. “Let me just say this before reading the verdict. Mister McKay, I've read over your personal history several times. And although this court can indeed commiserate with your unfortunate childhood and early adolescent tragedies, you were overcoming those obstacles and on the fast track to beating those odds. I'm fully aware of your troubled history with drinking and abuse of prescription drugs, yet the court must punish you for violating your probation not to partake in narcotics. In addition to that, whatever took place to cause such a drastic change in your mind-set, the general public will probably never find out, and it's not this court's job to speculate. We live in the here and now and deal in the harsh reality of today. And sadly, for all the families of the people whose lives were cut short, their reality is realer than some.” She then signaled for the additional officers from the sheriff's department to stand on point, ready for whatever. “That being said, I don't want, nor will I, tolerate any more outbursts when the verdict is read. Is that understood? Any such action will result in that person or persons being immediately led outside this courtroom and directly to the county jail.”

Remaining almost as stone-faced as he'd been since being arrested, Lonnie zoned back out. His demented mind was no longer present with his body. Whatever words the judge was saying no longer mattered. What would be would be. Defiant, the probable to-be-convicted murderer of five closed his eyes. Not muttering a word, Lonnie transported his thoughts back to what ultimately led him to the heavy chain steel shackles that currently bound his feet and arms. He knew he wasn't born the monster the world now labeled him as; his circumstances forced him to become that way.