Arthur Charles Leweylln (lawyer_joke) wrote in notionsic, @ 2011-05-27 21:52:00 |
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In all his time as a lawyer, Arthur had associated with some less-than-reputable characters. They could all pay, of course (he’d done very, very few cases pro bono) but sometimes they also showed him little tricks. The same went for the people who he hired from time to time, and one of the tricks he’d picked up from such people was the ability to pick locks. By now, he could practically wave his hand over a lock and the door would give way. Open sesame.
In this case, he just had a key. It was all he needed, and it was the reason he was standing in his son’s kitchen shifting through the mail with a scrutinizing eye. He dumped the junk and left anything important stuff on the kitchen counter before invading the fridge.
Arthur thought nothing of invading his son’s privacy. He wasn’t anywhere near as bad as Calvin’s mother, but he still saw locked doors as formalities. The way Arthur saw it, he had raised Calvin. He’d seen the boy take those first few steps, and he’d released the back of Calvin’s bike on a windy day. He’d done many things for the boy, and loved him. And most importantly, he had spent an obscene amount of money on him. Calvin’s room at the asylum wasn’t cheap, nor was the house. Every single thing that Calvin owned was essentially Arthur’s. It was the way of money, the principle of ownership…ebb and flow.
And he’d paid for the coca-cola can he was drinking from. So he deserved it.