JUAN CARAMTO had been waiting for this day to come. He sure had reason to. To see him conduct a trial at the Makati court this morning was a top executive officer of a multi-national corporation. The man was considering Caramto as a possible company lawyer who could handle big cases and provide legal opinions on labyrinthine problems. He was satisfied with the written skills of Caramto. What he wanted to see now was Caramto’s forensic prowess. He wanted assurance that Caramto was indeed a master in the theater of litigation as he had been boasting; he wanted their money’s worth, of course, in their prospective investment in Caramto.
This was no problem with Caramto. Piece of cake, he had bragged to his wife. He had been a practitioner for over a decade now. He had handled and was still handling hundreds of cases; had churned out convincing court judgments favorable to his clients; had been practically all over the archipelago, hopping from one court to another, wherever the case would take him and whenever the pay was good. He had brushed elbows with leading luminaries in the profession and had prided himself as having been elected (over an equally distinguished lawyer) to head the local chapter of the Integrated Bar of the Philippines. Just the other day, he tore to pieces a recalcitrant witness whom his adversary had presented against his client. Yesterday, he engaged in a severe argument a well-known judge over a fine legal matter (the judge eventually conceded to Caramto).
“Atty. Caramto?” He heard this from his back. He was on the third floor of the Makati Hall of Justice, standing along the corridor fronting the courtroom of Branch 550 of the Makati Regional Trial Court...
[Note: Read the complete story in the book "You Filibini?" Stories and Other Writings by Amador F. Brioso, Jr., published May 2010]
