The Form
Another free sample short story from my new anthology, Tiptoe Through the Zeitgeist
Available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle.
Diane Preston stood at the counter in the Clinton County, clerks office, shuffling the papers, looking them over for completeness to make sure she had signed everything. She had her check ready to give to the county clerk to pay her estate tax for the year.
Then, she sneezed.
“Oh,” she said, wiping at her nose with a tissue. “Excuse me!”
An administrative clerk at the counter, looked at her and said, “How’s that?”
Diane looked up and smiled.
“I sneezed. I said, ‘excuse me’.”
The clerk shook her head grimly.
“Oh, we don’t do that anymore. You’ll need to fill out a form.”
Diane paused for a moment then asked, “A… form?”
The clerk nodded officiously. “New state law. Just went into effect in January. If you wish to be excused for something, you need to submit the form.”
“The… form?”
The clerk opened a drawer labeled EXCUSALS. E - K. She produced a form and slid it over toward Diane.
“An official state of Iowa Request for Excusal.”
Diane blinked and said nothing.
The clerk continued.
“Just fill in the blanks, name, address, phone number, email. Emergency contacts. And then, in your own words, in the space provided, explain just what it is you feel the need to be excused from.”
Diane paused.
“Excuse me,” she said
The clerk took a deep breath and rolled her eyes impatiently.
“Miss, I’ve already explained if you wish to be excused you will need to fill out the form and submit it with a check for $15. It goes to Des Moines, where the state Department of Excusals will review your request and determine whether or not it is justified.”
“But all I did was sneeze!”
The clerk frowned. “And then you said, ‘excuse me’. And I’m telling you we don’t do that anymore. You have to fill out the form.”
“I have to fill out a form for a sneeze?” Diane asked incredulously.
The clerks face showed her increasing impatience.
“Not for the sneeze, ma’am. For the excuse. You wish to be excused, you need to fill out the form and write a check for $15.”
The clerk looked at her watch. “We don’t have all day here, ma’am. Do you wish to be excused, or not?”
Diane seemed overwhelmed.
“Pardon me, do I understand…”
The clerk seemed genuinely irritated.
“Well, which is it going to be? Do you want to be excused, or do you want to be pardoned?”
Diane blinked.
“Wha…”
“Being excused or being pardoned. Two entirely different matters. Two different forms. 15 for the excusal, 35 for the pardon,” the clerk said matter-of-factly.
She reached into the drawer and produced a different, longer form with more spaces to be filled out.
“If it’s a pardon you’re looking for, you simply fill out all the information, name, address, date of birth, phone number, Social Security number, emergency contacts. Then in the space provided you give the reason you seek to be pardoned, the offense for which you seek to be pardoned from, and then you sign at the bottom that you promised to never, ever do it again under penalty of law.”
Diane reached in her purse, looking for a pen.
The clerk continued.
“It goes to Des Moines. A special committee will look at it, submit your request to the governor with either a recommendation for approval or denial. If it’s approved, you get your official Certificate of Pardon in the mail in six weeks.”
“And if it’s denied?”
The clerk looked at Diane with a very stern expression.
“It’ll be on your permanent record.”
Not knowing what else to do, Diane produced her checkbook, wrote out a check for $35 and walked over to a sitting area where she could fill out the form. Once completed, she took it back to the counter. The clerk showed her where she forgot to sign, swearing under penalty of perjury that she would never do it again. Diane signed, the clerk produced three rubber stamps, stamped the documents, time-stamped them, and looked up at Diane.
“Anything else I can help you with today, ma’am?”
Diane said nothing, turned on her heels and exited the county clerk's office.
She walked to the car, where her husband was waiting since he didn’t wanna go into the courthouse and stand around, waiting for her to get her paperwork done.
“What took you so long?”
“I had to ask for a pardon. An official request. To the state.”
Her husband looked at her with a quizzical expression.
“Excuse me?”
Diane turned and gave her husband a hard stare.
“Don’t start with me. Drive.”