Mrs. Garacetti was tiny, angular, with a grim set mouth. A severe, featherless bird. Her dress was navy blue and stopped mid-kneecap. Her calves were encased in orthopedic socks. Her hair was the gray of an overcast day. The nurse’s aide, who walked into the court with her, was massive. In girth and height. She was the color of chestnuts. She was wearing jogging pants and a nurse’s smock.
This was a probable cause hearing to determine if criminal charges should be brought against me. I was Sophia Garacetti’s next door neighbor in a dumpy apartment complex in Brighton Square. I was being accused of disturbing the peace and harassment of Mrs. Garacetti. She had called the police on me ten times. She claimed I banged on the wall, banged on pans, and yelled obscenities at her through our adjoining wall. I did this, apparently, 24 hours a day. I was a journalist and worked from home a lot. I couldn’t get a letter from my employer or anyone stating I was out of the home for many of those hours. I spent most of my day sitting at my computer writing.
The judge was taking things very seriously. Judge Angiello. I vaguely wondered if she was giving more credibility to the batty old lady because of the Italian connection.
“Do you have any proof of the noises?” asked the judge.
“A recording, judge. A recording.” Mrs. Garacetti opened her square, scuffed purse with an enormous fake leather bow. She pulled out a cassette tape.
“Hmmm…,” said the judge. “I’m not sure we have a tape player.”
“I do, your honor,” said the nurse’s aide. She pulled a player out of a canvas shopping tote. She handed the player and tape to the judge.
The judge played the tape. There was a mixture of silence, whispering, and soft tapping. There were no loud and disturbing sounds. I felt happy. There would be no probable cause.
“I don’t really hear anything,” said the judge.
“I do,” exclaimed Mrs. Garacetti. “Can’t you hear? She has a plot to destroy me with sound. She wants to destroy me.” She was standing and waving her arms
“Well…,” the judge was considering.
“I hear it too,” said the nurse’s aide. “I hear it. It goes on morning and night. I’m with Mrs. Garacetti ten hours a day.”
The judge found probable cause. I was speechless.
Collusion is not just for politicians. It’s also for ordinary people with batty brains. I wasn’t sure who was crazier. Mrs. Garacetti, the nurse’s aide, or the judge.