the interpreter

I have never been subcontracted to do anything. Yes, sure, I get the occasional call from some desperate souls who want to hire my attorney services, but I always turn them down. A family law case can suck you in and gobble your time up, leaving you with little more than leftover minutes for your real job.

Other services? Sure, I did some moonlighting at a restaurant and bakery, but I asked them if I could work there, they did not seek me out. Hardly surprising. Would you go knocking on the door of a law prof and beg him or her to bake for you? No, you would not.

But suddenly, I am in demand. People are clamoring for my time. I am HOT STUFF!

(this is so misleading in the way I wrote it. Still, it is my moment of glory…)

So here’s the deal: there is a big court case brewing. Top attorneys have been brought in. The stakes are high. It’s tense, it really is.

The crucial witness is unique… She speaks Polish and only Polish. I am to be The Interpreter.

I am being hired by two sides to impartially translate. I am not to slant things. I do not tell anyone what she, the witness tells me in complete confidence. I say what I am told to say and I say nothing else.

But ohhhhh! What power! I speak the words, the translations, but deep down, I come to my own conclusions. I am but a mouthpiece for the words of another, but I can form my own verdicts. Can I articulate them? No. I cannot. The secrets will be swimming within me forever.