They moved the end table from beside the couch and placed it at the base of the stairs. It was draped in a blanket and a metal bowl was set upside down on top of it next to a wooden spoon that served as a gavel. Clara, wrapped in a purple bathroom, banged on the bowl and called the court to session. On trial this evening was a penitent young man with light brown curls crowning his worried face. He wrung his hands together and glanced back and forth between the judge in the purple robe and his lawyer, a fair-haired young woman who was currently attempting to stand on her head on the opposite side of the room. “Johnny McJohnieson!” the judge said…