by Michelle N. Broughton

Created on: July 21, 2008

GLADYS HUMP'S REVENGE - THE THIRD STRIKE RULE

He sat, face buried in arms resting on his knees. Bare feet burned from the red sand underneath them. His shoulders shook with ironic laughter.

"What can I do?" he said to himself. "Why did I keep hustling the streets, knowing the three strikes rule passed a century ago had never lost its power? Only a fool thinks he won't get caught when it's already happened twice before. How will I survive?"

The last crime he'd committed shouldn't have resulted in this exile. It was a small-timer's purse snatching gig. Every crook in town knew when the government checks went out and at least half of the penny-ante crowd had his territory and a particular old person staked out to rob. His had been Gladys Hump.

Since he was a little boy, he'd teased the woman about her last name, calling her Gladys the Humper or Humping Glad. She had learned to ignore him, taking the sting of his cruelty away from her and turning it back on him. How he hated the old broad! Still, when he turned to picking pockets, purse snatching and other street crimes, he had let her alone. In fact, he had moved his practice several blocks outside his neighborhood.

After getting arrested for picking the pocket of a businessman, he had been put on community service for a year and had to report to a probation officer the whole time. When he discovered the businessman was the wealthiest tycoon in three countries, he had bragged to his buddies about his daring exploit. It never occurred to him how lucky he was the man hadn't wanted his head. It would have been handed over on the proverbial silver platter.

The second time he found himself before the judge, he was given a month in jail for smashing a jewelry store window. Turned out the rings he was aiming for were in special, nearly invisible cases that proved impervious to the metal bat he carried. All he got from the store was a sliver of glass stuck in the palm of his hand. When he got out of jail, he was put on probation for six months and given a stern warning.

"Young man, I don't know what your story is, nor do I care to know," the judge said. "But if you don't turn around and stop your criminal activities, the three-strike rule will apply the next time you're caught."

He'd laughed in the judge's face. "Well, your highness, I guess I'd better not get caught!" His lack of respect had cost him another night in jail to think over his foolish answer. It also gave him status with his gang members. To him, their opinion was

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