DEBORAH'S LEE / STEPHENSON CONNECTIONS

John Herman Lee began the law firm of Lee and Stephenson with his friend William Brixton Stephenson Sr. John Herman Lee’s son is John Claude Lee, married to Julia. John Claude is presently the senior partner in the firm.

John Herman Lee’s younger sister Catherine married Brix Sr’s son Richard Stephenson. They had two daughters: Susan, who married Kezzie Knott and Ozella, who married Ashley Smith (uncle of Deborah’s good friend Portland). Susan and Kezzie are Deborah’s parents. When Deborah was in private practice with them, the firm changed its name to Lee, Stephenson and Knott. When she took the bench, it reverted to Lee and Stephenson.

William Brixton Stephenson Sr.’s other son was William Brixton Jr., married to Jane. They are referred to as Brix Senior and Brix Junior. Brix Junior retired when his only son, Reid, passed the bar and became the junior member of the firm. Reid is divorced from Dotty and they share a son, Tip.

Therefore, Deborah’s mother Sue was first cousin to John Claude Lee through her mother and first cousin to Reid through her father, which means that Deborah is first cousin, once removed to both men, but neither man is kin to the other.

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SHORT STORY

I began by wanting to write poetry, then switched to short stories because they are short. This is the shortest one I ever wrote. 288 words. It appeared in Long Story Short, edited by Marianne Gingher for UNC Press (2009).

DEVIL'S ISLAND

“They say only madmen survive there,” said the captain in his thick colonial patois. “These prisoners are more low than the lowest. Vile beasts. Men in name only. No decency, no—how you say?—humanity. How will such a one as you survive?”

The prisoner shrugged and looked down at his hands, uncallused nobleman's hands. "I enjoyed woodworking as a child. Perhaps I'll take it up again." He tossed off the last of his wine, then leaned across the table to clasp the strong hand of the man who had become his friend during this long voyage to the most brutal penal colony in the empire. "Don't worry, Captain. I'll survive. The Emperor credits me with a traitorous ability to lead, to rally men to a cause. If he’s right, I can help these wretched remnants of mankind—for they will be men, no matter how sunken in bestiality."

Before the captain could reply, a subordinate entered and saluted. “The patrol craft approaches, sir.”

The captain stood heavily. "I must return to the bridge.”

He wanted to offer the prisoner words of optimism, but when he looked at the finely bred boyish figure dressed in the absurd uniform of the colony—white robe, blue cloak, rough leather sandals—all optimism died.

There was a jarring metallic clangor as the airlock of the patrol ship matched that of the starcruiser. The exchange was effected, then the patrol ship fell away, descending to the penal colony. In less than an hour, the captain received official notification: Prisoner released in that sector known to inmates as Judea.

And all the way back to the civilized planets of the Empire, the captain wondered what form the prisoner's inevitable madness would ultimately take.

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