Theodore Boone - The Accomplice

by Grisham, John

  It was such a silly fight, and a small one. And he knew she was not going away. His Honor really wanted to crawl back into his recliner, snuggle under his quilt, and try to resume his nap. “Sure, Marcella.”

  “Thank you, Frank. And tell Caroline I’ll see her at the luncheon next Wednesday.”

  “Will do.”

  An hour later, Theo and his mother met Daisy Lambert at the jail. Mr. Bob Hawley of Action Bail Bonds arrived on time and was all smiles. Mrs. Boone wrote two one thousand dollar checks from the firm’s trust account, and Daisy signed the necessary paperwork. It took another hour to round up the Lambert boys. They were given their cell phones and personal effects, then handed over to their mother. When they walked outside, they stopped and took a long, deep breath of fresh air, and soaked up the sunshine. After a round of hugs and thank-yous, Woody and Tony hopped in the car with Daisy and sped away.

  As Theo and his mother watched them disappear, he said, “Well, that was easy.”

  The last thing Woody had in mind for his first full afternoon of freedom, and a Saturday no less, was to slog his way through a pile of homework. However, he had no choice. Pursuant to an agreement hammered out by his mother, Mr. Mount, Mrs. Gladwell, and Theo, he dutifully reported to Strattenburg Middle at two p.m. for an intense study session.

  When he arrived, Woody admitted, but only to himself, that he had actually missed the place. He met Theo and Mr. Mount in their empty homeroom and was glad to see them. They spent half an hour talking about his days in jail, and Woody quickly grew to enjoy his own stories. There were some laughs, and for the moment his legal troubles were somewhere else. Under Mr. Mount’s guidance, they studied for three straight hours.

  That night, the gang surrounded Woody. Theo, Chase, Brian, Justin, Ricardo, and Aaron met him at Guff’s for a frozen yogurt, then they walked to the downtown cinema and watched Spider-Man 7. By ten, Woody was back home watching late night TV with his mother and Tony, eating popcorn and laughing about how much they missed Jock.

  By Monday morning, the entire eighth grade knew that Woody was free and returning to school. To avoid attention, he arrived early and secured himself in homeroom with Mr. Mount. His facial wounds were still visible and he was tired of talking about them. On the one hand, he was embarrassed by his arrest and legal troubles, but on the other hand he was thrilled to be back at school with his buddies. And if the girls wanted to smile and say hello, that was okay, too. Several times during the morning, as he was once again welcomed back, he said, “Yeah, Theo got me out.”

  Theo wanted no credit whatsoever. He had helped a friend in need, something he would readily do again. He was delighted to see Woody smiling. They had hit the books hard over the weekend and Woody seemed eager to catch up. Their teachers—Madame Monique in Spanish, Miss Garman in Geometry, Mr. Tubcheck in Chemistry, and, of course Mr. Mount in Government—acted as though Woody had never missed a class. Each quietly offered to meet with him after school for extra tutoring.

  At lunch, Theo and April Finnemore bought a sandwich and sat together on the playground, alone. They had not spoken much in the past days. Theo had been so preoccupied with Woody’s bail that he had neglected her. April was a quiet, shy girl from a troubled family and she needed Theo’s attention. She was different, a loner who enjoyed reading and painting. Her style of dress was whispered to be “artsy,” and she cut her hair short. She had few girlfriends and didn’t want any. The other girls were too busy staring at their phones, gossiping about one another, and April considered them to be “airheads.”

  “Did you really get him out, Theo?” she asked.

  Theo rarely bragged. His parents had taught him to be humble and let his actions speak for themselves. Nobody likes a braggart, his father had said many times, especially around the golf course where big talking was not unusual.

  But with April, Theo felt secure. She would never repeat anything. So he took a deep breath and replayed the entire story.

  Monday afternoon brought the required visit to see Uncle Ike. Theo had mixed feelings about it because Ike was generally in a foul mood and had nothing good to say about anything or anybody. He was a lonely old man with few friends and no family. His wife divorced him long ago when he went to prison and his adult children were far away and too busy to call. But as Theo grew older, he began to wonder if Ike was as unhappy as he let on. He played poker at least once a week with a group of retired lawyers and cops. He knew more courthouse gossip than anyone. He was in a weird book club that read only biographies. Elsa had once dropped a hint that Ike had a longtime lady friend in another town. Theo suspected that being grumpy was just part of Ike’s routine.

  “How’s my favorite nephew?” he asked as Theo fell into the creaky leather chair. Judge settled next to his feet. Same question every Monday.

  “I’m your only nephew. My buddy got out. Thanks for the loan.”

  “Don’t mention it. How’s he doing?”

  “He came back to school today and was like a hero. You want to hear about his armed robbery?”

  “Sure.” Ike wheeled around his swivel chair, reached into a small fridge, removed a can of beer and a can of ginger ale. He turned a knob on his stereo and lowered the volume so that Bob Dylan could barely be heard. He popped the top and swung his feet onto his desk. Same old sandals.

  Theo described the armed robbery with the water pistol. When he finished he asked, “What will happen to Woody?”

  “He’ll probably get the death penalty in this town.”

  “Come on, Ike. They can’t convict him of anything, can they?”

  “Does he have a good lawyer?”

  “Public defender.”

  “Some of those guys are good. I don’t know much about Youth Court, Theo. I was far away from my youth when I got busted.”

  “Plus, you were a tax lawyer, right?”

  “Right. I stayed away from the criminal stuff, that is, until they came after me. How are your grades?”

  “Perfect,” Theo said immediately. He had learned that anything less than straight A’s would prompt a mini-lecture on the virtues of studying harder. How many adults were carefully watching his grades? Too many.

  Ike took a swig of beer and asked, “How are things over at Boone and Boone?”

  “The same. Everybody’s working too hard.” Ike had been a partner with Theo’s parents before he was born.

  “And your mother?”

  “She’s fine.” Ike never asked about Woods Boone, his brother. “Can I ask you a question, Ike, something that might be sort of off-limits?”

  “Maybe. What’s it about?”

  “A long time ago you got into trouble.”

  “It’s not something I talk about. I might explain things one day when you’re older, maybe not.”

  “Okay. I’m not asking about what you did wrong, if anything. My question is this: Did you have to post bail to get out of jail?”

  Ike took another drink and studied the ceiling fan for a long time. Theo was suddenly worried that he had ventured into forbidden territory.

  Ike said, “My situation was different. I knew the police wanted me, so I went with my lawyer down to the station. I was photographed and fingerprinted, all that jazz, and placed in a cell for about an hour. Then I was released on personal identification. So, no, I wasn’t forced to make bail.”

  “Bail seems so unfair. I found an article about it online. This legal scholar wrote that people with no money get stuck in jail for crimes that are not that serious. Shoplifting, bad checks, small drug cases, expired driver’s licenses, stuff like that. This is while they are presumed to be innocent and long before they go to court. A lot of men lose their jobs and a lot of mothers are separated from their children just because they can’t make bail.”

  “He’s right about that. It’s been a problem for a long time. Did this scholar offer a solution?”

  “It’s pretty obvious. Cut out bail for small crimes and let people go home. He says that virtually all o
f them will show up for court anyway. Keep bail in place for those charged with violent and serious crimes.”

  “And you like to read stuff like this?”

  “Yes I do.”

  “Most kids your age are reading comic books or playing video games, and you’re reading about problems with our legal system.” Ike was amused and took another sip of his beer.

  “Yes, and the more I read the more problems I find.”

  “Our legal system is pretty good, Theo, better than most, but it could work much more efficiently if we would fix the problems.”

  “Bail reform, long prison sentences for nonviolent guys, mass incarceration, wrongful convictions, electing judges. I’m finding all kinds of stuff about how messed up our system really is. It’s depressing, Ike, especially for a kid who wants to be a lawyer.”

  “So, what are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know. I’m only thirteen and my parents will not let me go to law school until I finish college.”

  “Sounds cruel to me.”

  “Worse than cruel. So, I suppose I’ll just keep reading about the problems until I’m old enough to do something about them.”

  “Who says you have to wait? Take Woody’s case. Watch what happens to him. Study our Youth Court system and you’ll find plenty of problems. I’m told that our juvenile prisons are in really bad shape. We’re talking kids here, Theo, youngsters like you, so why not get involved to improve things? I’ll bet you can find several groups active in Youth Court reform.”

  “I’ve already run across a couple.”

  “There you go. Get involved now. Don’t wait ten years. The problems are just getting worse.”

  Theo sipped his ginger ale and absorbed Ike’s words. “I don’t know. I’m pretty busy right now.”

  “You sound like your parents. Not happy unless they’re talking about being so busy. You’re thirteen, Theo, not forty. Don’t fall into the trap of planning every moment of every day and keeping an eye on the clock. You know who John Lennon was, right?”

  “The Beatle?”

  “That’s him. In his lyrics he said a lot of wise things. One I remember goes something like this: ‘Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.’ Get it?”

  “I guess.”

  “If you see a problem, Theo, think of a way to fix it and do it now. Don’t spend all your time making plans.”

  “What are you trying to fix, Ike?”

  “Nothing. I don’t see any problems, plus I’m too old. Now beat it so I can finish this pile of paperwork.”

  “See you next Monday.”

  On Tuesday morning, Theo stood in front of his locker with a looming sense of dread. He was tired because he’d stayed up the night before reading legal articles on America’s broken bail system. The more he read the more frustrated he became and he couldn’t go to sleep. Sometime after midnight he finally dozed off, with his laptop still open.

  A soft voice behind him said, “Um, Theo.”

  He turned and found a slight, dark-haired boy he didn’t know. The kid was immediately uncomfortable, switching his weight back and forth as he struggled to find words, and glancing around. He was either frightened or intimidated.

  “What’s up?” Theo said. He recognized the boy as a seventh grader but did not know his name. He was holding a piece of paper that at first glance did not appear to be anything related to schoolwork.

  “I’m Roger, and the police gave this to my mother last night before they took him.” He sort of shoved the paper at Theo, who took it and with one glance recognized the problem.

  “A Rule Three Summons,” Theo said. “For Animal Court.”

  Roger said, “I hear you’re good at handling these cases.”

  “What’s the name of the defendant? I’m having trouble reading this.”

  “Rufus, our pet rabbit. He’s a French Lop.”

  Okay, thought Theo. In his Animal Court career, he had been involved with two dogs, including Judge, a spitting llama, fainting goats, a delinquent parrot, and an otter that feasted off fat goldfish. But never a lop-eared rabbit. “Says here the infraction is for a ‘recurring nightly disturbance.’ Any idea what that might be?”

  “No clue. Our family lets Rufus roam free in the house. My parents don’t believe in caging animals. He has a pet door to the back patio. Sometimes we don’t see him for a few hours but he always comes home, especially when it’s time to eat. He’s a good rabbit, Theo, a member of the family. We’ve had him for five years. What’re they going to do to him, Theo?” His lip quivered and his voice cracked and Theo was afraid the kid might start bawling right there in the hallway. It was obvious that Rufus’s arrest had rocked him and probably his family.

  “Well, it depends on what’s proven in court. If Rufus is found guilty and considered a public threat or nuisance, Animal Control can keep him.” And they can also put the rabbit to sleep forever, but Theo wasn’t about to go that far. Roger was obviously fragile and couldn’t take such dreadful news.

  “He’s just a lop-eared rabbit, Theo, not a dangerous animal,” Roger said, his voice rising. “None of this makes sense.”

  “Look, it says that the hearing is today at four o’clock in Animal Court in the courthouse.” Theo knew he had little time to prepare. He also knew what Roger was about to ask.

  “Will you take the case, Theo? Everyone says you’re the best in Animal Court. They say you’ve never lost a case there.”

  Theo’s chest swelled with pride. The truth was that his record in Animal Court was six wins and no losses, though no one was keeping score but him. He certainly couldn’t brag about it because none of his friends would understand. Few of them had ever heard of Animal Court.

  It was impossible to say no. His parents believed that a big part of being a lawyer was using your position to help those in need, regardless of their ability to pay. At the age of thirteen, and still without a license, Theo couldn’t exactly charge for his services, so he never worried about the fee part. It would be cruel to leave poor Rufus detained by Animal Control while Roger and his family worried themselves sick over their beloved rabbit.

  He gritted his teeth, looked Roger squarely in the eyes, put a hand on his shoulder, and said, “Okay, I’ll do it. See you there at four o’clock.”

  Theo entered the courthouse basement room reserved for Animal Court at ten minutes before four p.m., and found a sparse gathering, which was a relief. In the past some of his cases had attracted big crowds and that added pressure. As much as he dreamed of the courtroom, when the trials actually arrived he always preferred smaller crowds. He had a knot in his stomach, as always. He’d once heard an old lawyer say: “If you’re not nervous in a courtroom, then you’re in the wrong place.”

  The courtroom was divided in half by a center aisle, with rows of folding chairs on both sides. In the front row, Theo saw Roger and went to greet him. Roger was with his mother, a nervous-looking woman with short blond hair in a weird green T-shirt.

  They were relieved to see Theo. Roger said, “This is my mother, Alice Kerr.” She squeezed Theo’s hand as if she were drowning and said, “Theo, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Roger says Rufus is in good hands.”

  “Thanks. I’ll do my best.”

  “They won’t . . .” She placed her hands rather awkwardly over Roger’s ears and continued, “Put him to sleep, will they?” Roger squirmed and hissed, “Mom! Come on!”

  “It’s unlikely,” Theo said in a low voice as he tried to ignore the little drama. “I’ve never seen it happen. The judge has to find that the animal is a persistent and continuing threat to the public and that nothing else can be done.”

  As he talked, he noticed a young curly-haired woman walking down the aisle with a stack of folders under her arm. She was dressed professionally and had an important air about her. Theo had seen her a couple of times around the courthouse and figured she was the newest hire in the District Attorney’s office. Jack Hogan usually sent his r
ookies all the way down to Animal Court to get their feet wet with easy trial work. She set her stack of paperwork down on the flimsy table used by the prosecution and opened a file as if preparing for major litigation.

  Theo nodded and Roger and Alice stepped forward with him to the defense table. The rookie walked over, stuck out her hand, offered a big smile, and said, “I’m Brittany Collins, with the DA’s office.”

  Theo shook her hand and said, “I’m Theodore Boone, for the defense.”

  She was amused by the size and age of her opponent, but kept smiling. She was very cute and Theo liked her immediately. “And you represent who?” she asked.

  “Rufus the rabbit. The first case on the docket.”

  “Ah, of course. This little guy has caused quite a stir in town.” Brittany turned and nodded toward the spectators. An impressive crowd was suddenly gathering in the seats behind the prosecution’s table. Whatever Rufus had been doing had evidently ticked off a lot of people. And they were still filing in.

  Great, thought Theo. The whole courtroom was against him.

  It suddenly hit Theo that he was completely unprepared, a cardinal sin for a trial lawyer. He had not had the time during the day to meet with his client and gather evidence. On top of that, Animal Court did not permit discovery and was often a trial by ambush. Often there were no lawyers at all, just parties representing themselves as they argued over barking dogs and stray cows.

  Brittany flashed another cute smile and said, “Take it easy on me today, Theo.”

  “Uh, what do you mean?”

  “I hear you’re a killer in Animal Court.” She winked and flitted away, and Theo couldn’t think of anything to say. He glanced again at the crowd and noticed that most were well-dressed. Animal Court often attracted a lower end crowd, rougher folks who didn’t hire lawyers and had more problems with their animals.

  Theo swallowed hard and wondered what he’d gotten himself into. Rufus seemed like a run-of-the-mill Animal Court case. He’d tried a half dozen of them, but now he had a case he hadn’t prepared for and he was dealing with a cute assistant DA who made him nervous. Theo had learned from his parents not to trust the pleasant chatter of lawyers before the real action, whether in trial or in negotiation. Every lawyer has a job to do, and just because one is chatty beforehand doesn’t mean he or she will not pull every trick possible to prevail. Brittany’s charm worried Theo. She would no doubt catch the eye of Judge Yeck.