Chapter Forty

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We listened to each side's opening statements for the entire morning. Every time we thought they were done, the another lawyer popped up for a rebuttal, and it went on and on. My mother whispered to me that in some big trials, the opening statement lasted the entire day. Luckily, the lawyers did not submit us to that sort of torture. By noon, the prosecution called their first witness to the stand: a friend of Arnie's named Leonard Gardenzi.

Soda shot me an incredulous look. A Soc was testifying against another Soc? How on earth had the prosecution managed that? I raised my shoulders a fraction and shook my head in disbelief.

"Mr. Gardenzi, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" the judge asked him.

Leonard's voice came out in a croak, and he cleared his throat loudly. "I swear," he squeaked.

"Take a seat, then," the judge said.

"Good morning, Mr. Gardenzi," the prosecution lawyer began. "Could you spell your first and last name for the record, please?"

Leonard did so, and the lawyer started to ask him foundational questions, such as what his educational background was and how he knew Arnie. After establishing that Leonard was a credible witness to the events that transpired (the lawyer's words, not mine), the lawyer called his attention to the night of the rumble. I leaned forward in my seat, nervous about what the Soc would say.

"That night, October 22, 1967, what were you doing?"

"My friend Arnie said that we were going to go and rumble with a gang of greasers over some Soc girl."

"Can you clarify for the jury- what is a greaser?"

"They're the guys who live on the East side of town."

"And was 'rumbling' with them a normal occurrence?"

"For the most part. We always are going over to the East side to rumble with the greasers over one thing or another, mostly when one of them comes over onto our turf or if one of us comes onto their turf. This time was a little different because it was about a girl."

"Can you explain that a little further?"

I cringed down into my seat.

Leonard nodded. "Sure. Arnie said he'd overheard that one of the greaser's new girlfriends was actually the granddaughter of one of the big Soc families on the West side. He said we had to go over and show the greasers that she was ours."

"And how was Arnie acting?" The lawyer crossed back to his table and picked up a plastic bag.

"He was really jumpy," Leonard said. "More than usual. I could tell he was really fired up because he told us to bring knives, which we usually don't use. Me and a couple of the guys got nervous at that because we usually never bring knives to a rumble; it gets way too dangerous."

"Your honor, may I approach the witness?"

The judge waved his hand in approval, and the lawyer revealed what was in the plastic bag. He stepped forward and handed whatever it was to Leonard.

"Mr. Gardenzi, do you recognize this?"

Leonard nodded. "This is Arnie's knife. He brought it to the rumble that night."

"Just to be clear for the record, you mean the rumble on October 22?"

"Yes."

"Okay.  You're sure it is Arnold Stienham's knife?"

"Yes, sir, I am."

"Your honor, I move that this knife be included as people's exhibit number one."

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