Jury Duty or The Woman who Fell to Earth

I got up at 2:30 AM, so I had time to read and write, then I packed my black book bag, lunch pail, and small Thermos-mug of coffee. I threw on a dress and headed out at 6:30 to catch the 7:05 AM bus. My shower and Lily walk would have to wait. I was running late! Just as I was a block from home, I remembered that I had forgotten my blue paper: the jury summons. I ran back breathless and slightly panicked, I will go to jail for being late! Luckily I found it in my dog-walking bag. The local bus will make me late! so I ran and ran, down the streets I usually walk with Lily, past the Woonsocket Harris Public Library, police station and YMCA. I made it to the bus stop and nobody was there. The streets were dark and empty and I am not used to being without Lily. Two big scary guys stared walking right towards me when a bus pulled in and parked. The red digital sign at the head of the bus read not in service. I felt better knowing someone else was here. Then the 54 Providence bus arrived, the bus driver looked familiar. Have I met her on my Lily walks? Probably! She told me the express bus was only 2 dollars with special RIPTA deal - a free return trip. I told her I had jury duty. She told me she has had it twice! One of the elderly passengers sitting up front took me under his wing and told me about his history of being a juror. I was glad to listen. Then he got off. The bus had automatic digital red repeating readouts of today's date and there were robotic announcements at every stop. I tried not to look at the LED lights, to avoid a headache. Lots of people, all with amazing faces got on and most of them were gazing at hand held devices as I gazed at them. Ladies had manicured fingernails and perfume. I had to look away to ward off the nausea of the computer screen scrolling motion. I had to take my emergency inhaler to breathe. I looked out the window feeling like I was traveling inside an elephant. The sun rose with my spirits. We arrived in Providence. The air was damp and the shadows were long. The sun was lighting up the river. I climbed the Providence Superior Courthouse steps and went inside. The entry way had a huge shiny marble-floor. The guard loved my vintage black lunchbox, and fed it through the scanner along with my heavy black book bag. Then I walked through and the bleeper went off. Is it my teeth? I asked? Your shoes! He said laughing. There was beautiful gold painted metalwork at the vintage elevators. They were exposed like the old Bloomingdale's elevators in NYC department store. The staircases had brass banisters. I went up in the elevator, past the frosted glass and wooden gold-leaf hallway doors. I was one of the first few to arrive. I was juror 14. The jury waiting room was stuffy with a drop ceiling. There were two booming televisions one in each room along with drugstore paperbacks. There was a a lunch room that had a soda machine, stacks of ladies magazines and a puzzle of the grand canyon. The overhead florescent lights were oppressive as a box store. I spotted an unplugged industrial fan. One man was at a lunchroom table reading the Providence Journal. I asked him if he minded if I turned off the TV volume and turned on the fan. No problem, he said. I wished I could dim the lights. Then the two room filled up with almost 200 people and we all had to file up the narrow marble stair case. I was last person to enter the huge courtroom. It had filled up. I was told by the jolly Irishman to sit in the front row. The room was nice and cool. I turned around and looked at all of the faces. The building was the same vintage and architect as the college building next door at RISD. A sheriff in black police uniform said Hear ye, hear ye and made a few announcements. He was not very theatrical. Does he have to say that every day? Where's his powdered wig? Then we heard the judge speak. She was very casual with frizzy brownish blond hair. She wore a black robe. Was she younger than me, or just wiser? There was a court stenographer with no chin, taking notes on a stenotype machine. We had to watch a RI made movie about jury duty on a huge old TV narrated by a local news anchor whose voice is extremely grating. The TV was very loud but it seemed to be a pep talk that answered all of our questions. I looked up at the ceiling to admire the beautiful woodwork. I could see my old RISD studio window from the court room window. On the way out I ran into a fellow artist from the Foundry Studio days and we chatted up a storm and ended up having lunch together at the restaurant next door at the break. Then they asked jurors who are being compensated by their employers to please volunteer to come back tomorrow and sent the rest of us home at 3:45. Once outside I heard a very tall black man in the courtyard saying to a woman with dark hair, They kept me for 60 hours with no heat in a little room.
I was eager to get home to Lily. I was exhausted. The bus home stopped at every office park and shopping mall. The Providence and Lincoln trees were much more muted yellows and browns than in Woonsocket. As we neared Providence Street I was ready to get out and walk home but I waited until we got to the beginning spot which was now the end spot, under the two billboards, next to the railroad bridge behind Chan's. I walked past the library, happy to be back in the neighborhood. I felt freed and relieved after a day in captivity especially knowing I didn't have to go back. Lily had missed me as much as I had missed her and I missed my life!