I Hate It When That Happens

As is so often the case with law school, I thought this day would never end, but I'm not looking forward to tomorrow either. After Professor Tarkington's Criminal Procedure class this morning, I was walking out with the crowd when I heard someone yelling. Tarkington was calling me from his spot up at the podium, where students waiting to impress him with their canned questions surrounded him. Only he didn't say, "Ms. Morrighan, can I speak with you?" He said, "AMY, can I speak with you?" I think it's a bad sign when a law professor uses your first name (or, as in my case, the name of the twin sister I am impersonating). It always sounds serious, like someone has died or something. I walked up to the podium, and he asked me if I could stop by his office tomorrow morning before my first class because he has something he would like to discuss with me.

Oh great. What have I done now? Maybe he wants to talk to me about my "drinking problem," or maybe it's a drug problem this time. Or, he could know about the twin-switch, but I doubt it because I think they would confront me immediately, not let me pass Go, not let me collect $200.00. It probably has something to do with Becca. Who knows what she said to him after we had our little talk. Hey, maybe she put in a good word for me, and now the professor who humiliated me in class for being so stupid now wants to hire me as his Research Assistant!

After hearing that Tarkington wants to have a meeting, I wasn't exactly in the mood to go deal with Rogerson and work in the Law Clinic. It was even harder knowing that we didn't have Richard there running the show. It turns out that I didn't have much time to worry about Tarkington or miss Richard after all because there was a new client sitting in our small law clinic lobby when I walked in. And of course, no one else was there except for me. I greeted the gentleman and his teenage son, and I asked them if they were being assisted by someone already. The boy told me no. I didn't know what else to do besides have them to wait a few minutes more. I went into one of the interview rooms and tried calling Professor Rogerson. No answer. I heard another voice in the lobby, and, I never thought I would say this but, I was hoping it was Rogerson. It wasn't him; it was Kevin, our newest addition to the Law Clinic inexperienced team.

We ended up taking the man and his son into the conference room. Kevin and I assumed the position by getting our little yellow legal pads and pens ready. I introduced us to the man and his son and asked how we could help them. The man started explaining his situation. In Spanish. I wanted to croak, because neither Kevin nor I speak a word of Spanish (except for "Where is the bathroom?" and I think Kevin can successfully ask for another beer). Thankfully, the boy spoke English, and he introduced himself and his dad. Jesse (not his real name, of course) does construction work and his 15-year-old son, Martin, helps him after school and on weekends.

Recently, Jesse was hired by Mr. Van Voorhis (also not his real name) to help with some property that Mr. Van Voorhis wanted to redevelop. Mr. Van Voorhis apparently owns a beach cabin along the coast, not far from where I live at Amy's house, and he wanted to tear down the cabin so he could build a new, bigger beach house. The existing cabin was dilapidated, and with the recent storms it had become necessary to tear it down anyway.

Martin explained that he was the one who took the call from Mr. Van Voorhis. He immediately got his dad and then translated Mr. Van Voorhis's questions for him. Jesse gave Van Voorhis a very reasonable bid on the construction project and the demolition of the beach cabin, and by the end of the day, Mr. Van Voorhis went by the office to sign the paperwork. So far, so good. However, after the initial demolition work was completed, Mr. Van Voorhis came back to the office and refused to pay Jesse for the job.

At this point during the client interview with Jesse and Martin, I could tell something serious had happened. Martin was beginning to speak louder and louder. I got the feeling someone must have gotten hurt during the demolition or, even worse, like a wrongful death or something. Turns out I was wrong.

Martin swears he took down the directions correctly.

Jesse swears he followed the directions exactly.

But yet, somehow, Jesse ended up bulldozing the wrong beach house.

Kevin started laughing and said "Ooops!" really loud, so I kicked him under the table. How do you bulldoze the wrong beach house? Down where we live on the coast, it probably isn't that difficult. The beach houses are not numbered very well, if at all, because new houses are built and torn down all the time. All of the houses look weathered and at different levels of dilapidation because of the salt air and bad storms we have had this season. The owners also paint the houses often, which means even when you are given directions that include, "turn left at the green house, and it's the yellow house on the right" you cannot be absolutely sure you will arrive at the correct house. When I first came down here, even I wouldn't have been able to find Amy's house based on her directions, if it wasn't for the fact I recognized her jeep.

Martin continued with the details, and Kevin was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. Real professional. Although, I have to admit, I was having a difficult time keeping from laughing, too. I finally told Kevin to go get something to drink, and bring something back for our guests. Obviously embarrassed, Martin told me that his dad does not have much money and really can't afford a lawyer. I assured Martin that we would try to see if there was anything we could do to help. Meanwhile, in the back of my mind I was thinking, "Boy, did they come to the wrong place for help."

When Kevin came back with water for everyone, Martin continued explaining about Mr. Van Voorhis's reaction when he found out Jesse had torn down the wrong house. Mr. Van Voorhis went storming into Jesse's business office and demanded that Jesse "take care" of the problem. Apparently, the owner of the beach house that Jesse bulldozed is now claiming that he had expensive "antiques" and other valuables in that house, and those items are now also destroyed. I looked over at Jesse, who seemed like he was becoming agitated. Martin told us that there was no way antiques were in the beach house that was torn down. He claims it was a run-down shack on stilts, and no body actually lived in it.

In any event, Mr. Van Voorhis is trying to place all of the blame on Jesse, and the bulldozed-beach house owner has already hired an attorney who has contacted Jesse. Now would be a good time for a real attorney to intervene and help Jesse. The problem is, I don't know of any.

I excused myself from the conference room and went to try and call Professor Rogerson again. Thankfully, he answered his extension and, when he heard my voice, asked me what the hell I wanted. Careful to keep my voice in a professional tone, I explained to Rogerson that we had a new client in the Law Clinic and needed him to come down immediately. Rogerson said he was busy. He wanted me to tell him the details over the phone, and then HE would decide if it was necessary for him to come down. Why everything has to be a power struggle with Rogerson is beyond me. What a shame he has to take his animosity towards me out on clients who need his help. I suggested that perhaps I should just have the clients go elsewhere, and Rogerson said no, to just give him the Reader's Digest Version of what happened.

I gave Rogerson the details, and he, too, started laughing. I asked him what I should tell Jesse to do. Rogerson said, "Tell him to get out his checkbook." Great. It sounded to me like Rogerson wasn't even going to try to get to the real cause of the accident or attempt to advise Jesse. When I explained that Jesse didn't have money and that the opposing side had already retained legal counsel, Rogerson paused. He then said we would research the matter and get back with Jesse and Martin and told me to be sure to get the contact information for everyone involved. It was the only time I have ever heard Rogerson sound anything like a real attorney.

Kevin and I had Martin fill out the intake forms, and we took down the contact information for everyone. When I told Jesse and Martin we would be in touch after we looked into the matter, they seemed greatly relieved. I called Rogerson again after the clients had gone, and I asked him what we should do now. He laughed at me like I was an idiot for asking and said, "You're law students. Go research it."

So, Kevin and I went to the law library where we ran into Richard, the 3L Rogerson just fired from the Law Clinic. We couldn't give him much detail about the case because of the whole confidentiality rule, but he was still able to help us on our treasure hunt for information about wrongful-bulldozing. We didn't find much, but we'll try again tomorrow. At this point, I can't help but wonder if I can call another law practice and see if they can give me the law for this?