by John Grisham
Holland’s near-assault on the Boone household. He managed to make the event somewhat more frightening than it had really been, but he knew Ike appreciated a good story. Ike himself had said that he’d never heard a story he couldn’t improve with a little exaggeration.
Theo went on, “And Mom says they’ll keep him in jail for a few days and charge him with a felony.”
“What a creep, but he’s lucky the cops didn’t blow his head off.”
“Maybe so, Ike, and I know you don’t care much for policemen, but believe me it was a relief to see those blue lights last night.”
“I suppose so.”
“Anyway, my mom is trying to figure out how to protect the family. She thinks the guy needs some help with his drinking problem.”
“I’d say,” Ike said as he sipped more beer. According to a few things Theo had overheard, Ike had his own issues with drinking, and that was one reason his parents had little to do with him. That and the blowup of the law firm many years ago. The adults never talked about what happened, but Theo was determined to find out one day.
They talked some more. Theo said he had to go, since it was Tuesday and his family spent the evening at the homeless shelter.
Chapter 6
By Thursday afternoon, the third day of testing, Theo’s brain was fried, and he didn’t care what happened with his scores. He left the school and rode his bike around town, trying to clear his head. At four, he met April at Guff’s Yogurt Shop for his usual double serving of chocolate covered with crushed Oreos. April, a person who tried to avoid doing anything the same way twice and was always exploring, ordered a single of mixed boysenberry and mango. She ate less than half of it and offered the rest to Theo, who took one bite and slid it back across the table. They talked about how awful the testing was going and how they couldn’t wait until Friday afternoon. They talked about the ninth grade. Theo was not looking forward to it at all. April was eager to move on and get out of middle school. She wanted the next few years to speed along so she could leave home. Theo thought that was so sad.
He eventually arrived at Boone & Boone, but with no homework to do he played video games in his office and got bored. Around five, his mother tapped on his door and asked him to step into the conference room. He said, “Sure, Mom, what’s up?”
“You’ll see,” she said. “Follow me.”
When he walked into the room he was startled to see Pete sitting at one end of the long table with his parents. Mr. Boone and Elsa were also seated. When Mrs. Boone and Theo sat down, she said, “Mr. Holland has something to say.”
He slowly stood up, though standing was not necessary. He was obviously troubled and nervous. He cleared his throat, looked at each of them, and began, “Look, I’m just gonna come right out and say this. I have a drinking problem, and tomorrow I’m going to an alcohol treatment place for thirty days. Mrs. Boone here has worked out a deal with the police, and if I stop drinking and stay sober, all the charges will be dismissed. I promise I’m going to do that.” His voice cracked, and he looked at Mrs. Holland, who was wiping tears from her cheeks. “I love my family and I’m not going to lose them. I promise.” His voice cracked again. The guy was really struggling, and Theo felt sorry for him. However, he couldn’t help but flash back to Monday night, or early Tuesday morning, the last time he had seen Mr. Holland, drunk and staggering around the front yard. What a change!
Theo glanced at Pete, who was also wiping his eyes.
Mr. Holland continued: “I want to apologize to all of you for what happened. I’m really embarrassed by it but just happy no one got hurt. I ask for your forgiveness.” Each of the three Boones nodded their forgiveness. “And I want to thank Mrs. Boone for taking control and helping us out of this mess. I promise nothing like this will happen again, and I promise to get help and protect my family.”
His hands were shaking and his eyes were moist. “Thank you,” he said, and sat down.
Mrs. Boone said, “Your apology is accepted, and I’m just happy to do my job.”
“Thank you,” he said. The three Hollands were now holding hands.
“We will help any way we can,” Mr. Boone said. The Hollands nodded awkwardly. The whole scene was awkward, and Theo had had enough. On the one hand, he felt sorry for Pete for having to suffer through his father’s craziness, but on the other hand he was relieved that there might just be a happy ending.
They eventually stood and said thanks again, then good-bye. On the front porch, Theo shook hands with Pete and wished him luck. The Hollands walked down the front sidewalk together and disappeared down the street.
Since Mrs. Boone was a busy lawyer, and since cooking was not one of her favorite activities, the Boones dined out most nights. Monday was always Italian food at Robilio’s. Tuesday they ate while volunteering at the homeless shelter. Wednesday was Chinese carryout, which was perhaps Theo’s favorite because they ate on trays in the den and watched television. It was Judge’s favorite too because he loved sweet-and-sour pork.
And Thursday meant roasted chicken at a small Turkish café. This Thursday, though, Theo really wasn’t in the mood for it. He had a busy night ahead of him as he needed to carefully arrange his hiking and camping supplies. Mrs. Boone had a six o’clock appointment and would be working late, so Theo convinced his dad to go see the Dragon Lady again and pick up some carry-out.
After dinner, Theo hurried upstairs to his bedroom and began laying out his equipment and supplies. For Christmas and birthdays he always asked for scouting and camping gear. As an only child, he realized he was lucky to have more stuff than most kids, though he was careful to never show it. He found his “Ultralight Backpacking Checklist” and started an inventory. The Major was a fanatic about lightweight and efficient packing and believed that no backpack should weigh over thirty pounds. He would weigh each one at the VFW tomorrow before they boarded the bus.
Theo’s backpack was a superlight, nylon contoured pack with padded straps, a hip belt, and eleven external pockets. It weighed three-and-a-half pounds. His tent was a quarter-dome one-person tent, also made of nylon and ultralight. It weighed three pounds and when erected would provide twenty square feet of floor area, more than enough room. His sleeping bag was an insulated, three-season bag that weighed two-and-a-half pounds and was fine for weather above thirty degrees. The weekend forecast was mild. The sleeping pad was a roll of foam that weighed ten ounces. The rain fly was nothing more than a sheet of plastic that weighed one pound, including hubbed poles.
The Major frowned on meals that had to be cooked because too many supplies were needed, so there was too much to carry. Instead, he favored ready-to-eat foods and energy bars. Theo had planned six meals: one for Friday dinner, three on Saturday, and breakfast and lunch on Sunday. With his allowance, he had purchased three packs of freeze-dried chicken and noodles, two packs of chili mac and cheese, two packs of breakfast waffles, and two packs of beef stroganoff with noodles. Just add hot water and the meals were ready to eat. He also had a dozen energy bars. It was probably a little too much, but it was also wise to have extra food. Out of the fifteen Scouts headed for the weekend, Theo knew that at least two would run out of food. His groceries weighed two-and-a-half pounds. His plastic cookset included a two-liter pot, two bowls, two mugs, a knife, fork, and spoon, all together weighing only one-and-a-half pounds.
Since they would be hiking a fixed trail, the Major said they would not have to worry about navigation. Theo looked at his checklist and crossed off the map, compass, and GPS. He also knew that the Major would carry a small GPS and a cell phone.
Back to the checklist: flashlight, batteries, lip balm, sunscreen, extra asthma inhaler, knife, first aid kit, water bottle, matches, fire starter, and toilet paper in a small waterproof container. His clothing consisted of what he would wear into the woods Friday afternoon, plus two shirts and one pair of pants, socks, underwear, a poncho for rain, a vest, and gloves. He had no plans to pack a toothbrush and toothpaste—what a waste of space
! His hiking boots were waterproof, and since he was wearing them their weight didn’t count. Only the gear that went into his backpack was included in the Major’s thirty-pound limit.
With great care, Theo placed the gear and supplies into the backpack. As always, there wasn’t a square inch to spare, but it zipped up without too much trouble. He hauled it downstairs, showed it proudly to his parents, who were reading in the library, then asked them if he could use their bathroom scale. The backpack weighed thirty-two pounds, and Theo hauled it back upstairs, unpacked it, laid everything out on his bed, read the checklist again, and argued with himself about what to delete. He was deep in thought and mumbling a lot, and Judge looked at him curiously. He removed a shirt, a pair of socks, and two packs of food. He removed the rain fly because the forecast was for clear skies, plus he figured he could just stay in his tent in the event of a shower.
Back downstairs, he was headed for the scale again when his mother said, as only a mother can, “Teddy, dear, do you really think you’re going to be safe out there?”
His father said, “Come on, Marcella, we’ve already had this conversation.”
Theo knew his mother was not about to veto his weekend, that she was just going through the motions of being a concerned mother, but he politely said, “Sure, Mom. This is no big deal. We’re all experienced Scouts and you trust the Major, don’t you?”
“I suppose,” she said.
“He’ll be fine,” his father said. Theo suspected they were secretly planning a quiet weekend without him. He wouldn’t be missed.
The second weigh-in was at thirty-and-a-half pounds. Theo decided to leave things alone. Surely the Major would bend on half a pound.
Chapter 7
Friday morning, the last day of the dreadful tests. The ordeal was almost over, and Theo was so excited about the weekend he demolished his Cheerios and left home ten minutes early.
The mood was considerably lighter as the eighth graders gathered in the auditorium. Pete had a smile on his face, the first of the week. April smiled and nodded at Theo from across the room. The teachers passed out the exams, and at precisely nine o’clock they began. Theo attacked the test as never before, as if the clock would move faster if he kicked into high gear. It did not, but for the first time all week he felt comfortable with the material. The morning session was all about history, an easy subject for Theo. He nailed one question after another.
At 12:30, it was over. The proctor called “Time,” thanked the students for their hard work and diligent efforts and on and on, and told them to go have lunch. At 1:30, they were dismissed early, and fifteen minutes later, Theo was at the VFW with the other Scouts, all chatty and excited and ready to go. His father had delivered his backpack and a change of clothes. The Major was barking orders here and there, going through his usual drill sergeant routine, but he, too, was eager to hit the road. He weighed each backpack—Theo’s came in at thirty pounds, two ounces—and growled at Woody and Hardie who were two pounds over. They quickly unpacked, discarded a few items, and made the limit. All in all, the Major was pleased that his boys had packed so carefully. He went through a checklist to make sure each had included the essentials—primarily food and toilet paper—and told them to load up. They piled everything into the Troop 1440 bus, one bought from the school district and painted Army green, and by 2:30 they were leaving Strattenburg with the Major at the wheel and the fifteen Scouts whooping and hollering. They settled down once the town was behind them and most fell asleep.
Two hours later they rolled into the Sassaqua National Park. A ranger directed the Major to a spot to leave the bus, checked the boys into the register, showed them where the new trail began, and suggested a camping spot five miles in. The first stretch was easy and he was certain they could make it before dark. “Good luck,” he said as they slung their backpacks onto their shoulders. As they hurried away, he said, “Watch out for the bears. They’re everywhere.”
The Major took the lead and set a furious pace. He was sixty years old, exercised every day, and could do more push-ups and sit-ups nonstop than any of his Scouts. Within twenty minutes, they were sweating and breathing heavy. But they pressed on as the shadows grew longer. Things were darker in the dense woods. The trail was narrow, in many places less than two feet wide, with gullies and ravines on both sides. They began a gradual incline that seemed to go on for miles, and when they reached the top the Sassaqua River could be seen in the distance. “We need to hurry,” the Major said after a quick rest. The trail curled through the woods and went downhill. A few rays of fading sunlight lit the campsite as they arrived, and they hurriedly unpacked and got organized. The Major laid out a tight circle around a fire pit, built a fire, and began boiling water, barking orders nonstop. The boys quickly assembled their small tents.
Theo selected freeze-dried beef stroganoff for his evening dinner, and when mixed with hot water it was delicious. Dessert was an energy bar, which tasted like rubber, but who really cared? He was deep in the woods, far from home, far away from school, and at that moment had nothing to worry about. The Major, whose backpack was slightly larger than the others and had not gone through the trial of being weighed, produced a bag of marshmallows. They roasted them on sticks and wiped out the entire bag as the Major told horror stories of campers being eaten by huge bears and vicious cougars and wild boar hogs.
He had a lot of stories, the best of which he seemed to save for those moments when he was deep in the woods with a bunch of city boys. Every story ended badly, at least for the campers, but the Scouts had learned over the years that they were all tall tales.
Nevertheless, given where they were, the stories set the tone for the evening. There were jokes, other tales from the Scouts, a few true stories about other camping misadventures, but as the night wore on and grew darker, every sound became ominous. The Scouts began to believe that they were being watched by all manner of hungry beasts, or even runaway criminals. Around nine o’clock, the Major called for lights-out, and they retreated to their tents, zipping the flies tightly.
Theo tucked himself into his sleeping bag, which was warm and comfortable. He wasn’t afraid. He’d camped enough with the Major to know that he would protect them. Instead, he savored the moment, listening to the sounds of the thick woods as his imagination went into overdrive. A bad week was ending in a wonderful way. Tomorrow would be a grand adventure.
He was thirteen and unwilling to grow older. The entire week had been about the future, about testing for placement in high school and the mysteries of the ninth grade. Theo liked where he was in life. He loved scouting and camping. He liked his school and his friends and teachers. He liked being a boy on a bike zipping around the town. If he got into trouble his excuse was always, “Hey, I’m just a kid.” That worked most of the time.
Why couldn’t a kid stay thirteen forever?
The forest grew still as the animals and beasts fell asleep. Theo, too, finally drifted away.
Chapter 8
For the next two weeks, school life was normal as the eighth graders recovered from the ordeal of being tested. In fact, the tests were so unpleasant they were never discussed. But they were not forgotten. The scores would be ready “in about two weeks,” according to Mr. Mount and the other teachers. As the days passed, a soft drumbeat began as the countdown gained momentum. Every student was convinced he or she had bombed the tests and would be sent straight to the “slow track,” a fate that meant utter failure and embarrassment. A few, namely Woody, boasted of deliberately blowing the tests so they could be deemed dummies and practically ignored in high school. Mr. Mount said things didn’t work that way. Those on the Remedial track received a lot of attention, as did those in Honors.
One morning in homeroom, Mr. Mount finally delivered the solemn news. “Hey, everybody, I have the test results.” He was holding a thick file. Everyone stared at it and took a deep breath. He continued, “As I have explained, your scores are lumped into a pool with the eighth-grade scores
from Central and East middle schools. Students who score in the top ten percent from the pool qualify for the Honors track next year at Stattenburg High. This year the magic number is ninety-one. If your overall score is ninety-one or better, then congratulations. If your score is sixty-three or below, then you qualify for some more interesting classes. If you’re between sixty-three and ninety-one, you will be on what’s called the Intermediate track. Any questions?”
No one said a word.
As he began passing out envelopes, he said, “I’m going to hand each of you your score in an envelope. This is a private matter, something to discuss with your parents and not to talk about during school. Understand?”
Right, Theo thought. Everyone will know everyone’s score by lunch.
He opened the official-looking envelope with his full name printed on the front. There were a lot of numbers, but the most important one was at the bottom: Overall Score: ninety. He had failed to make Honors by one point.
Ike had told him that in life there’s always someone smarter, faster, stronger, and so on, so don’t expect to be number one in everything. Just try your best and deal with the rest. Theo was not the smartest kid in his class. Chase was a genius, a mad scientist who aced every test with little effort. Joey studied hard and made perfect grades. Aaron was extremely bright and very lazy, but always did well on standardized tests. Theo figured he would land around number four or five if the class was ranked, which it was not. Still, though, it was a disappointment not to make Honors.
The room was silent until Woody said, “Hot dog! Stuck in the middle where I’ll get lost in the crowd.”
“That’s enough, Woody,” Mr. Mount said. “Please do not discuss your scores until you’ve talked to your parents.” The bell rang, the boys hustled out of the room, and by the time they arrived at Spanish they knew that Chase, Joey, and Aaron had made Honors, and Theo had not. Darren would begin high school on the “slow track,” which was no surprise to anyone but perhaps Darren himself. He looked devastated and near tears.
Madame Monique taught Spanish and was Theo’s second-favorite teacher. After fifteen minutes, she realized the boys were not paying attention, that their minds were occupied with other matters, so she closed the textbook and gave them an easy written assignment to do in class.
Theo’s father would be disappointed. His mother probably would not. She despised the tests to begin with. Ike would be nonchalant and tell him to study harder, to show the people who ran the schools that he could outwork everybody else. Why was Theo sitting in Spanish and worrying about what the adults would say? This irritated him. So much of his life was geared to pleasing his parents, his teachers, even Ike. Why couldn’t he just do his homework, do his best on all his tests, and let his life run its course without worrying about the adults?
Second-period geometry wasn’t much better. By then the students were openly talking about their scores and who made “it” and who didn’t. Most seemed surprised that Theo had not done better.
At lunch he went to find April, but she was not in the cafeteria. He bumped into Pete, who looked as sad as Darren. He whispered to Theo that he had blown the tests and was headed for a rough start in the ninth grade. He said he might drop out, just like his father had quit in the tenth grade. Theo tried to offer encouragement, but it didn’t work. Pete thanked him, said his dad was doing okay in rehab, and that things had settled down around the house.
As Theo walked across the playground, alone, he wondered how a kid like Pete was supposed to do well on the tests when his home life was in such turmoil. How can a student focus when his father is in and out of jail?
He found April in Ms. Bondurant’s art room, and one look said it all. She was by herself, eating an apple, and when she saw Theo she began crying. He sat beside her and said, “Come on, April, it’s not the end of the world. I didn’t make it either, but we’ll do fine anyway.”
She bit her lip, wiped her cheeks, and said, “You didn’t make it, Theo?”
“No. Almost. Missed it by a point.”
“Me too.” She clenched her jaws in an effort to stop crying. “It’s just that the best art classes are for the Honors kids. That’s all I want, Theo, to study art and to make art.”
“And you will, April. Nothing can stop you from becoming a great artist. There’ll be plenty of courses for you, and for me, and for everyone else. Strattenburg High School is one of the best in the state, for everybody. Let’s get over this.”
“What will your parents say?”
“I don’t care. I swear I don’t. It’s not like they’re sending us off to a reform school. We’re going to do fine in high school.”
“My mom won’t care either. And, of course, my dad is rarely at home. At least your parents care what happens to you.”
“Come on, April. We’re going to be okay.”
“I can’t believe Hallie Kershaw made it. She’s such a brat, and she’s already bragging about it.”
Hallie was the cutest and most popular girl in the eighth grade, and Theo, like most boys, had a secret crush on her. “Is that all you’re eating for lunch?” he asked, nodding at the apple.
“Yes, you want some?”
“No thanks. I really want a taco. That’s what they’re serving today, so let’s go eat a taco, okay?”
“Thanks, but I’ll stay here. I just want to hide.”
“Well, you can’t hide, April. Life goes on.”
They sat in silence for a moment or so. She said, “You know, Theo, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but I feel better knowing that you didn’t make it either. I mean, I wanted you to do well and all, so don’t get me wrong. It’s just that you’re about the only close friend I have around here. I guess this means we’ll have some of the same classes next year.”
“I know, I know. My dad always says, ‘Misery loves company.’ So I understand. Right now we have a lot of company. Let’s go get a taco.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re never hungry, but you have to eat.”
“I don’t want to see anyone. It’s easier just to sit here and be miserable.”
“Okay, be miserable then. How about we meet at Guff’s for a frozen yogurt?”
“I don’t have any money, Theo.”
“Okay, then we’ll call it a date and I’ll treat. Four o’clock?”
“I guess.”
“See you then.”
Mrs. Boone looked at Theo’s test summary and said nothing for a few minutes. Theo watched her face as he sat as low as possible in one of the two large leather chairs facing her desk. He tried to look pitiful, though he doubted she would be upset with him. Finally, she said, “One lousy point, and now they’ll keep you away from the best classes in high school. I knew I hated these tests. Now I really understand why.”