The Ultimate Life Read online

  Out of nowhere appeared an immaculately dressed gentleman who majestically—almost regally—strode down the center aisle of my courtroom. His ebony skin virtually glowed with energy, and the fire in his eyes was evident to all in attendance. As he slid behind the table on the defendant’s side of the aisle, he announced what I and every student of the law already knew.

  “Your Honor, I am Theodore J. Hamilton of Hamilton, Hamilton, and Hamilton, for the defense.”

  In this life, there is nothing more powerful than a person who has seen the path to destiny within their soul and is willing to pursue it.

  Two

  LIFE IS A JOURNEY AND A DESTINATION

  The shock of Hamilton’s grand entrance reverberated throughout the courtroom. As I pounded my gavel and called for order, I could hear Jason Stevens excitedly exclaim, “Mr. Hamilton, I couldn’t reach you. I thought you were lost.”

  Hamilton smiled wisely and replied, “Young man, there is a vast difference between being lost and simply not wishing to be found.”

  Before the court could fully come to order, L. Myron Dudly jumped to his feet and declared, “Your Honor, I most vigorously object to this theatrical and disrespectful display exhibited by opposing counsel.”

  Theodore J. Hamilton slowly rose as the courtroom grew silent. He addressed me but glared across the aisle at Dudly in much the same way that someone would look at an unknown foreign object stuck to the sole of their shoe.

  “Your Honor, it was not my intention to upset, intimidate, nor agitate opposing counsel by simply walking into the courtroom.”

  Mr. Dudly visibly reddened and raised his voice in anger. “Your Honor, I must most vigorously object.”

  I pounded my gavel for order. I stared sternly at both lawyers then motioned to them as I spoke. “Counsel will approach the bench.”

  L. Myron Dudly shuffled slightly and then approached the ominous raised judicial bench as if he were a third-grade student preparing to explain how his dog ate his homework. Mr. Hamilton nodded and strode confidently to an area on the polished marble floor directly in front of me. He looked up expectantly.

  I certainly knew Theodore J. Hamilton, and he knew that I knew him. Hamilton was nothing less than a legend. When I was in law school and then clerked for old Judge Eldridge, tales of the historic legal exploits of one Theodore J. Hamilton abounded. He had appeared in my court before—always as a consummate professional. He was imposing and intimidating but had the confident aura of someone who knew they had nothing to prove.

  Hamilton was like an all-star major-league pitcher. Even though the umpire is trying to be fair, it’s hard to call a ball if it’s even remotely close to the plate. I glared down at both attorneys.

  “Gentlemen, we have a lot of work to do here, and I believe if we will keep the legal matters at hand foremost in our minds and set aside any personal differences, we will be best served.”

  L. Myron Dudly made the mistake I hoped he would avoid. He spoke.

  “Your Honor, Mr. Hamilton seems to think that the rules of law and of this courtroom somehow do not apply to him. We all received ample notice of this hearing to be conducted today and to begin promptly at 10:00 a.m. Maybe Your Honor should instruct counsel in the fine art of telling time.”

  Theodore J. Hamilton actually chuckled. He paused for an uncomfortable length of time and then he spoke to me while glancing dismissively in the direction of L. Myron Dudly.

  “Your Honor, if Mr. Dud—” Hamilton coughed several times, then continued, “—ly …”

  Dudly’s eyes actually bugged out as he stammered, “Your Honor, I haven’t been referred to as Dud since grade school. I implore you to invoke disciplinary action on opposing counsel for a cheap, demeaning, juvenile gesture.”

  Hamilton appeared innocent—almost angelic—as he looked up wide-eyed and spoke. “Your Honor, I seem to have developed a tickle in the back of my throat that from time to time manifests itself in the form of a dry cough. It seemed to take hold of me just as I was pronouncing counsel’s name, right between the ‘Dud’ and the ‘ly.’ I am not familiar with any juvenile antics to which counsel may refer. In fact, as a well-seasoned octogenarian myself, I ask the court’s indulgence when my physical ailments from time to time may affect my performance in ways I wish they wouldn’t. When Your Honor reaches eighty-plus, I’m sure you will fully understand this.”

  I heard my always-solemn court reporter, Scott, snicker, and I stifled my own laughter as I responded, “Mr. Hamilton, I have not yet reached eighty, but I am not far behind you, so I do understand your situation; however, the cough did seem to come at a peculiar time.

  Hamilton nodded solemnly and said, “Yes, it is quite a curious thing, Your Honor. Unexplainable, actually. And, with regard to my arrival today, I came with all due haste the moment I received word of this hearing.”

  Dudly interrupted. “Your Honor, our firm received notice of this hearing and copies of the notice received by opposing counsel weeks ago.”

  Hamilton continued. “Your Honor, I have been traveling extensively throughout India and the Far East on a bit of a sabbatical. Word was forwarded to me as expeditiously as possible by telephone, overnight mail service, facsimile, courier, and finally in the remote regions of the Himalayas via a traveling missionary riding a yak.”

  Hamilton smiled innocently at Dudly and continued. “Opposing counsel may or may not have any direct experience in executing timely legal documents via yak, but I can assure counsel and Your Honor that a best effort was made by all concerned, and this would, indeed, include support staff, clerks, postal authorities, couriers, the missionary in question, and most certainly the yak himself.”

  Dudly blurted out, “Your Honor, I am dumbfounded …”

  But all that could be heard was “Your Honor, I am dumb …” as another coughing fit from Hamilton drowned out the rest.

  Dudly pointed violently and continued, “Your Honor, he’s doing it again.”

  Hamilton shook his head disbelieving and solemnly intoned, “Your Honor, when my young, learned, opposing counsel reaches the august age of eighty and beyond, I hope that he will be able to ply his chosen trade without opposition, fifty years his junior, counting and highlighting each time he coughs.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle as I tapped my gavel for order.

  “Gentlemen, let us proceed with the dignity and professionalism that this court and each of your clients deserves. Please return to your places.”

  I addressed both attorneys. “Gentlemen, the court will entertain any motions you may have at this time.”

  L. Myron Dudly stood to his feet and spoke with a recovered sense of dignity.

  “Your Honor, this case is a very simple and straightforward one. And when all the evidence has been presented, I am certain that the court will award all of Howard ‘Red’ Stevens’ worldly assets to my clients, in spite of any legal shams or Boy Scout projects that may have been conducted by opposing counsel and his client.”

  I glanced toward Hamilton, anticipating an objection. Dudly paused as well, assuming he had it coming. Hamilton leaned over toward young Jeffrey Watkins and spoke discreetly. “Son, could you see about getting us some coffee here?”

  Watkins replied more shrilly and loudly than necessary, “I didn’t go to law school to learn how to get coffee.”

  Hamilton smoothly responded, “No, I’m sure you didn’t learn how to get coffee in law school, but you appear to be a bright youngster, and I have confidence in you.”

  Hamilton turned toward Dudly as Dudly’s motion continued.

  “Your Honor, we have filed and this court has granted a restraining order freezing all assets of Jason Stevens that came from Red Stevens either before his death or through that comic book estate proceeding that took place after his death.”


  I shuffled through my paperwork to locate the pertinent document and responded, “Mr. Dudly, I have that order here before me, and it has been duly executed and recorded. Do you have a point?”

  Dudly gestured across the aisle and spoke haltingly. “Your Honor, it’s Mr. Hamilton.”

  I interrupted Mr. Dudly, inquiring, “What is Mr. Hamilton?”

  At that moment, Jeffrey Watkins scooted back into his seat at the counsel table. He passed a cup of coffee to Jason who slid it over to Theodore J. Hamilton.

  Dudly continued, “Your Honor, it is well known in legal circles that Mr. Hamilton charges in excess of 1 million dollars per case, and Mr. Stevens—confirmed by legal audits conducted by our firm—has no financial means of support other than that provided by Red Stevens.”

  Hamilton looked up as he sipped his coffee and spoke. “Your Honor, if it would be of any help at this point in opposing counsel’s motion, I would like to assure the court that I have been adequately retained and promptly paid for my services in this matter; however, I do appreciate Mr. Dud …”

  Hamilton paused to sip his coffee and continued, “…ly being concerned about my fee and my financial well-being.”

  The courtroom burst into laughter, and I pounded my gavel for order.

  Dudly inquired indignantly, “Do you expect this court to believe that you have received your customary compensation from Jason Stevens without benefit of his previous trust or the proceeds from the estate?”

  Hamilton smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and stated, “Well, I customarily like to receive a better cup of coffee, but I am willing to accept this one as payment in full for any services rendered or to be rendered in this matter.”

  I failed to mask my impatience as I said, “If that resolves the issue, I will ask Mr. Hamilton if he has any motions to present to the court.”

  It was as if an aged boxer came out of his corner for the final round of a championship fight as Hamilton rose to speak.

  “Your Honor, I am quite confident that the last will and testament of Howard ‘Red’ Stevens reflected his intentions and his wishes for his estate. I know this because for more than sixty years Red Stevens was my best friend.”

  Hamilton paused and continued emotionally, “And, I dare to say that I was his best friend.”

  Theodore J. Hamilton stopped to collect himself then got down to business. “Furthermore, I can assure this court and all those concerned with this matter that Red Stevens’ last will and testament—although informal and somewhat unconventional—was and is valid and binding. I am certain of this as I wrote, filed, and carried out every tenet of the document myself.”

  Dudly smugly rose to his feet and offhandedly inquired, “Your Honor, does counsel have a point he wishes to make?”

  Hamilton fixed Dudly with a stare that would certainly melt a glacier. He paused until Dudly was forced to look away, then spoke.

  “I do, most certainly, have a point for opposing counsel and his …”

  Hamilton paused as if searching his mind for the right word to describe something distasteful, then continued.

  “… his clients.”

  Hamilton glanced dismissively at the several rows of greedy relatives arrayed behind Dudly and continued.

  “As I do have an intimate personal understanding and professional working knowledge of Red Stevens’ intentions and his will, I want the court to recognize the provision that calls for any relative to lose his or her bequest immediately upon arguing, protesting, or contesting this will or the provisions of Red Stevens’ estate.”

  Hamilton paced back and forth in front of the counsel table. He allowed the bomb he had just dropped to take effect. Scattered murmuring and muttering could be heard from the rows of relatives behind Dudly.

  “Lose everything?”

  “What does he mean, ‘Lose everything’?”

  Dudly frantically shuffled through paperwork in front of him.

  I tapped my gavel and paused for silence to descend.

  “Mr. Hamilton, I have, indeed, anticipated your motion and studied the matter thoroughly. It does appear, without a doubt, that the collected beneficiaries gathered here who have all jointly contested the will have, indeed, forfeited their entire inheritance if this will is upheld.”

  I heard gasps, curses, and sobs emanating from Dudly’s side of the courtroom. I pounded for order and continued.

  “Mr. Hamilton, your motion is accepted. It would seem that what we have before us is what my friend and mentor, old Judge Eldridge, called a winner-take-all horse race.”

  I looked down at Scott typing away at the court reporter’s station and said, “For the record, let me state that the court recognizes that if Mr. Dudly and his clients are successful in overturning Howard ‘Red’ Stevens’ will, they will divide all proceeds previously awarded to Jason Stevens. However, if on the other hand Mr. Hamilton is successful in defending the bequest received by Jason Stevens, all other inheritances will be forfeited and be added to the trust currently controlled by Jason Stevens.”

  The gauntlet had been thrown down. Everything was hanging in the balance.

  I rose to my feet, tapped my gavel perfunctorily, and stated, “This court will stand in recess for one hour.”

  I bounded down the steps, through the mahogany door, and found myself trying to catch my breath in the comfortable, familiar confines of my chambers. Rarely had I considered a case that was this simple yet this complicated. This was magnified as there were billions of dollars riding on my decision.

  I paced back and forth for the entire hour, considering Red Stevens’ life, his intentions for Jason, and the monumental gifts he had provided for his grandson.

  I knew, regardless of any personal feelings I might have, that I had to give every consideration to Red Stevens’ children who wanted to inherit even more of his estate. It went beyond more. They, in fact, wanted it all. On the other hand, I had to consider Jason Stevens, as to whether or not he had mastered each of the gifts intended for him and, therefore, might be entitled to several billion dollars. And, finally—after hearing all of the opposing arguments-—I had to be the voice of the one person whose wishes were paramount but who was not there to speak for himself. I had to put myself in the mind and heart of Howard “Red” Stevens.

  As I took my place in the courtroom and nodded for everyone else to be seated, I noticed two additional figures gathered at Mr. Hamilton’s counsel table. Next to Jason I recognized his attractive fiancée Alexia. She had been prominent in all of the media coverage surrounding Jason’s Ultimate Gift quest over the last year. And seated next to Theodore J. Hamilton—as she had been in a multitude of courtrooms for almost a half century—was his assistant Margaret Hastings. Miss Hastings is one of those regal beauties who was stunning as a young woman, and the ensuing years have settled upon her like age on a fine wine. If anything, she is more beautiful than ever.

  I tapped my gavel, gazed out across the assemblage, and began.

  “Ruling on the validity of a last will and testament is among the most critical areas of the law, as it calls upon the court to uphold the rights of an individual and speak on behalf of those individuals who are no longer here to speak for themselves. I have reviewed at length the last will and testament of Howard ‘Red’ Stevens, including the written documents that contained his thoughts, desires, and intentions as he outlined The Ultimate Gift as a bequest to Jason Stevens.

  “This court rules that—having heard no evidence to the contrary or dispute—that Howard ‘Red’ Stevens was of sound mind and body at the time this last will and testament was created. This court also finds that, although unconventional and quite revolutionary, Red Stevens’ will is valid and enforceable if all of the terms and conditions are adhered to and met. Therefore, the only remaining question before this court is to determine whether Jason Stevens ha
s, indeed, accomplished each of the provisions set forth in the last will and testament of Howard ‘Red’ Stevens.”

  I paused long enough to let either legal team make any objections they wanted to make. Thankfully, hearing none, I continued.

  “The will and subsequent trust documents call for several billion dollars to be given over to Jason Stevens to carry out the mission and the message of the twelve elements of The Ultimate Gift as outlined and presented by Red Stevens. It will be the task of this court to determine whether or not Jason Stevens has, indeed, learned sufficiently each of the twelve lessons to an extent that he would be capable of carrying out the mission underlying those lessons, given the resources represented by several billion dollars.

  “Therefore, it is my ruling that beginning at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow morning in this courtroom, we will give Jason Stevens every opportunity to explain and demonstrate that he has learned each of the lessons presented to him by Red Stevens in the twelve gifts; and furthermore that he is up to the task of utilizing several billion dollars to pass on The Ultimate Gift to a world that sorely needs it.”

  I paused and heard the unbelievable tension created by several billion dollars and countless lives hanging in the balance. I pounded my gavel and announced, “Court is adjourned.”

  My judicial robes billowed and swirled as I rushed from the courtroom into my chambers. I heard the shock, excitement, and anxiety ripple through the crowd. The overabundance of media present rushed from the courtroom to tell readers, listeners, and viewers around the globe how I had ruled.

  I felt somehow unqualified and inadequate to accomplish the daunting task before me. I could only hope and pray that my years of experience on the bench would somehow lead me down the right path and to the proper and just decision.

  Only the events of tomorrow and beyond would tell.