Suzy's Case: A Novel (21 page)
Read Suzy's Case: A Novel Online
Authors: Andy Siegel
Marsha Braithwait, a nonparty witness, having first been duly sworn by the Notary Public, was examined and testified as follows:
EXAMINATION BY COUNSEL ON BEHALF OF THE PLAINTIFF(S):
Plaintiff’s Counsel: Ms. McGillicuddy, Nurse Braithwait has a Caribbean accent and pronounces some of her words with such a flavor. Would you stipulate to allowing the court reporter to record the nurse’s words exactly as she hears them, phonetically, instead of interchanging words she believes to be the traditional English version, if such is the case?
Defense Counsel: So stipulated.
Plaintiff’s Counsel: Thank you. I shall begin my questioning, then.
Q: Nurse Braithwait, how you doing this morning?
A: I be doing just fine. I tank ya for your asking.
Q: No problem. Did you hook Suzy Williams up to a heart monitor on the morning she met with some unfortunate event?
A: Yes, dat’d be me for sure.
Q: Had you ever hooked up a person, child or otherwise, to a heart monitor prior to that date?
A: No, dat would have been me first time doing dat.
Q: Did you ever receive any training by anybody at all on how to hook up a person to a heart monitor?
A: Well, nobody ever taught me dat, but I’d seen it a done a couple of time before dat day.
Q: Can you tell me where you saw that done?
A: Oh yeah, mon. I saw dat done during me training in Grenada. Went dere from Jamaica, ya know—for me training, dat is.
Q: Grenada. Is that the tiny island America invaded for a few hours back in the early eighties?
A: Yeah, dat be da Grenada.
Q: What school did you get your nursing degree from?
A: It’s not exactly a nursing degree, mind ya. It’s more like a certificate to be a nurse’s aide. It took me two straight months of schooling to get it, ya know.
Q: Is two months of formal training all the training you ever had prior to hooking up Little Suzy to that heart monitor?
A: Dat would be all da training, mon.
Q: Can I ask you how you got a job as a nurse at the Brooklyn Catholic Hospital?
A: I answered an ad in a Caribbean newspaper. It said temporary nurses’ positions be available because of da nursing strike at da hospital, ya know.
Q: How long had you worked at the hospital before you hooked Little Suzy up?
Defense Counsel: | Objection. |
Plaintiff’s Counsel: | Nature of objection, please? |
Defense Counsel: | I object to the form of your question, Mr. Wyler. |
Plaintiff’s Counsel: | What’s the matter with my form? I thought it was good form. |
Defense Counsel: | You keep referring to the plaintiff as “Little Suzy” and that’s not her name. |
Plaintiff’s Counsel: | That’s what I call her. Hey, June, do you call Suzy “Little Suzy” sometimes? |
June Williams: | Yes, I do. |
Plaintiff’s Counsel: | Ms. McGillicuddy, her mother sometimes calls her Little Suzy. I would suggest that would be acceptable. |
Defense Counsel: | It’s not acceptable to me. My objection stands. |
Plaintiff’s Counsel: | Hey, Nurse Braithwait. Wouldn’t you agree the name Little Suzy would be a perfect nickname for this adorable little girl over here? |
Nurse Braithwait: | Oh ya, mon. She be just like, mon. |
Plaintiff’s Counsel: | Ms. McGillicuddy, we have a majority here, so I would suggest my form is acceptable. |
Defense Counsel: | My objection stands. |
Plaintiff’s Counsel: | Okay. Can I continue? |
Defense Counsel: | Please do. |
Q: Now, Nurse Braithwait, again, can you tell me how long you worked at the hospital before you hooked up Little Suzy?
Defense Counsel: | Objection. I said I object to you referring to the plaintiff as Little Suzy. |
Plaintiff’s Counsel: | Objection duly noted. |
Defense Counsel: | Then stop calling her Little Suzy. |
Plaintiff’s Counsel: | Why would I do that? |
Defense Counsel: | Because I’m objecting to it. |
Plaintiff’s Counsel: | I appreciate and acknowledge your right to object, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen to you. If at trial the judge agrees with your objection, then the word |
Defense Counsel: | You’re an ass. |
Plaintiff’s Counsel: | Well, that’s quite unprofessional of you, but as an officer of the court I support your right to free speech. Now can I continue? |
Defense Counsel: | Go ahead. |
Q: Nurse Braithwait, how long had you been working at the hospital before hooking up Little Suzy?
A: I be working at dat hospital almost two full weeks by dat time.
Q: And before that time, when was the last time you worked in the medical profession?
A: I gotten me my certificate ’bout ten years before dat, but only worked in a hospital fer three months at dat time.
Q: So you had a total of three months’ experience in the nurse’s aide profession, and that was ten years before you hooked up Little Suzy?
A: Yes. Dat would be ’bout right.
Q: Can you tell me why you left nursing for those ten years after getting your certificate?
A: Oh ya, mon. Because me jerk chicken recipe was in big demand, you know. I made da jerk chicken for some of da big hotels we be gotten down dere. Da jerk chicken money too good. Twice da money of nursing, ya know.
Q: Can you tell me, did someone tell you to hook Little Suzy up to that heart monitor?
A: Oh yeah, mon. Da doctor, mon. He be givin’ me da order.
Q: Did you tell him that you only had limited experience with such a device?
A: I didn’t tell dat man nothing, nohow. He be a firm man. I be no one to question his autority, mind ya. If he be needin’ to ask me my qualifications, I would have told da mon, but he do more ordering den asking.
Q: Can you tell me exactly what you did when you hooked Little Suzy up to the heart monitor?
A: I stuck the first patch on her chest, you know, in da right place. Den I put dat wire into da hole on da top of da patch on one end, den plug
de other end of da wire into da plug coming from da machine, mind ya.
Q: What happened next?
A: Da moment I be pluggin’ in da wire Little Suzy popped up out of da bed like if something hada happened to her. Spooked she was, like da devil hada taken her soul or ifin she’d been seen a ghost, mind ya.
Q: What happened next?
A: She be screaming and I be screaming and da doctor mon he come a-runnin’ into da room and threw da wire off Little Suzy at me, coverin’ up in da corner.
Q: And then?
A: Den dey be working dat poor little girl to get the life back in her.
Q: What happened next?
A: After dey get her heart goin’ again I was given a talking-to and told to go home—fired, mind ya.
Q: Is that it?
A: That’s about it.
Q: Is there anything else you’d like to tell me that I wasn’t smart enough to ask?
A: No, but I still be gotten da wire dat doctor threw at me to this very day.
Q: Really?
A: Yes, really, mon.
Q: Why do you still have it?
A: Well, mon, dey be firing me and all dat and I just left with it in my pocket.
Q: Where is the wire now?
A: I be gettin’ it right here in me purse. I brought it for ya, mon.
Plaintiff’s Counsel: | Let the record reflect Nurse Braithwait is taking her large woven canvas bag up from the floor and is looking in it. Let the record further reflect she’s moving things all around and her hand is coming out of the bag holding a clear-plastic-coated wire that’s attached to what looks like an electrode patch. Let the record further reflect Nurse Braithwait is offering plaintiff’s counsel the wire and patch and that I am taking it from her. |
Nurse Braithwait: | Here ya go, mon. You can have it. I don’t be needin’ it no more. |
Plaintiff’s Counsel: | Thank you, Nurse Braithwait, for your time and the information you gave us. I wish you well and hope we never meet again, and I say that with love and affection. |
Nurse Braithwait: | May God be with ya, mon. |
I have the court reporter mark it as “Exhibit A,” then quickly stuff the wire and electrode patch into my right front pants pocket. I look to Ms. McGillicuddy. “I have no further questions. I’ll be seeing you on the flip-flop. Come on, June, we’re done here.”
The Weasel grimly sticks out her hand. “Wire, please?” It’s an order not well disguised as a question.
“Of course not. Why would I give it to you?”
“Because it’s hospital property.”
“It was hospital property, then it was discarded and became the property of Nurse Braithwait. She has gifted it to me—on the record I might add—so now it’s my property. If the hospital had any interest in this wire and patch they should’ve obtained it back from their former employee before discharging her. I’ll keep it in a safe place so it’s not lost, but for now it’ll remain in my front right pocket.” I pat my trousers for emphasis. “As a matter of fact, Ms. Reporter, please take this statement down for the record.”
The reporter stretches out her hands and readies them over the steno keys. “Let the record reflect,” I begin, “that the witness produced here today was categorized by defense counsel as a nonparty witness. As such there is no attorney-client relation between the two. Let the record further reflect that the witness gifted me a certain wire with an electrode patch that she has had in her possession since the date of the incident giving rise to this occurrence, and at no time prior to this moment has anyone asked Nurse Braithwait for them back. Is that accurate, Nurse Braithwait?”
“Dat would be da truth, mon.”
“Given these undisputed facts relative to the wire and patch,” I continue on the record, “I’ll be keeping dem, mon.”
The Weasel jumps in. “Off the record.” She stares at me. “You’re not leaving here with that, Wyler,” she warns.
“I’m not looking for any trouble. I’d never be able to explain to my brothers of the bar how it was you physically took me down and relieved me of this wire and patch. So I would ask that you call into this room the biggest, baddest person you employ here to forcefully take them from me so that I’ll at least sound heroic when
I tell my war story at the New York State Trial Lawyers conference.”
The Weasel points her finger at me. “Stay here!” she orders. Getting up, she marches out of the room, slamming the door in apparent protest.
All is quiet in the conference room. Five seconds pass, then I count backward loudly and quickly. “Four, three, two, one. Come on, June. Put Suzy in high gear. We’re going to make a run for it.”
June releases the wheelchair brake and spins Suzy around, startling Dog, who loses her balance and falls to the floor. “Up, Dog,” June commands. Dog jumps right back up onto Suzy’s lap, giving a little doggy sneeze, while Suzy sways her head back and forth as if to say, “Spin me more.”
I hold the door open as June wheels Suzy out, pulling a hard right toward the elevator.
“Sch-weet,” says Suzy, in an excited utterance. We start running down the long hall with Suzy’s relishing the thrill. “Sch-weet. Vegas. Sch-weet.”
We reach the elevators and I hammer the button with my thumb. Let the waiting game begin. I take the lead wire and patch out of my pocket and hand it to June. “I have a plan. Just take these, no time to explain.” She puts them in her oversized handbag. “If they get to us before the elevator comes, just follow my lead, no pun intended.”
Five seconds pass and all three named partners turn the corner at the end of the hall, charging toward us. The fucking elevator is taking its sch-weet-ass time to arrive as they continue their rush. I know this Jewish lawyer can take out the two Jews rushing us, but if things get dirty June’s got to handle McGillicuddy. “June,” I tell her, “if we bang, you take out the Weasel, but that’s a last resort. You hear me?”
“Who’s the Weasel?”
“McGillicuddy, the lady lawyer.” June starts laughing. I continue. “It’s got to be self-defense. You got it?”
“Got it. Self-defense.”
Waiting for the fucking elevator I feel like a bank robber with a faulty escape plan. I look at the doors. “Come on, come on,” I urge out loud as the partners close in on us.
I hear the Weasel yell, “Stop right there! You have stolen property! Stop right there! I’m calling the police! I’m calling building security!” The lawyer lynch mob gets to us before the elevator. In all the movies I’ve ever seen the good guys get away, but not this time. The Weasel’s all out of breath. “I’ll take the wire and patch back, counselor.” She looks pointedly at my hand, which is in my pocket. Dog starts barking in a protective manner. June hushes her.
“Let’s at least go back in the conference room,” I say, “so we can place a proper statement on the record about the exchange.”
“Fine. Let’s go,” she says in cautious disbelief. “I appreciate your cooperation.” She pats her hair.
“Think nothing of it. I mean, you guys are a force.”
As we turn to head back, the elevator arrives. I say, “Hey, would you guys mind if my client and her brain-damaged daughter and poodle get out of here? They have a long journey back to Brooklyn, and I think Dog has to go wee-wee and I wouldn’t risk staining your new carpet.”
