a lifetime has so many dangerous events... and some graceful moments

A life consists of an infinite number of small events.   Some are dangerous. Some filled with grace. I am nine, maybe ten years old in the car with my attorney father and he is taking me along with him to the city (New York) to watch him do some court-work. Perhaps he was saddled with babysitting for the day and took me to work with him.  My folks had already been separated for five years by then, and spending a weekday alone with my father was rather unusual.  It was just the two of us. I don't remember where my sisters were that day. We are sitting in traffic, stopped at a red light, and each of us is eating an apple. He finishes first and throws his apple core out the window, looping it back over the roof of his Cadillac and landing it in the gutter drain. A perfect shot. He smiled.  Perhaps it was luck, but I remember feeling very impressed.  At that moment, he could have turned around, taken me home and dropped me off and the day would have ended well.  But, of course,  the day continued...we arrived at the court house; he took me in and told me to sit on a wood bench in a deserted courtroom, while he consulted with his client.  I am a bit spooked to be sitting by myself in this large cold room.  Eventually, the judge enters and the proceedings begin. Nothing actually made any sense to me,  but I watched my father and tried to appear as if I were interested in every word spoken.  After it was over and his client left along with the few other random people that had entered  the courtroom he motioned me up to introduce me to the judge.  These were his words..."your Honor...this is a bad boy and he should be put in jail."   The judge, apparently playing along, said something to the effect of..."OK, Mr. Blum, we will lock him up and keep him in jail until he learns his lesson."    My father tells me to stay put, and walks out of the courtroom.   I am not sure what to think, but I believe there is a chance I am going to jail. I do not know what I did wrong. For a moment,  I am very scared.  I am unable to speak. I do not know what to do. I feel a crushing sensation. I can not bear to look up at the judge.  Seconds later (it seemed like a long time) he comes back in and asks if I am ready to go home.  I follow him out of the court room, speechless.

A thirty second event in a lifetime.   A single small teasing.  Forgotten by everyone involved with the exception of one 9 year old boy.   

A tiny bit of fear lodging itself in a psyche,
to be carried along for a lifetime.

but there was also that beautiful toss of the apple core...

I'm trying to remember the gentle way he flicked his wrist, the finesse of the toss
and the slight hint of a smile as it rolled into the drain.

good shot, Dad.