by John Grisham
“Sorry you can’t play today, Theo,” his father said. “But when you skip school you have to take your punishment.”
“Thanks, Dad. I thought we already had this conversation.”
“Just wanted to remind you.”
“I got the message.”
“That’s enough, Woods,” Mrs. Boone said as she drank her coffee.
“It’s such a beautiful day,” Mr. Boone said. “We might play twenty-seven holes.”
And I hope you double-bogey every one of them, Theo almost blurted. But he ate his Cheerios in silence, suffering as much as possible. Even triple-bogey.
After Mr. Boone finally left, his mother asked, “So what are your plans for today, Theo?”
“I need to go find April. She’s not doing too well these days.”
“What’s the problem?”
“She needs some help.”
“Oh, really. What’s going on?”
He hated to break a promise, but he also needed his mother’s advice. Theo told her about Janelle the babysitter, and her sister Binky, and the letter April had sent to Dr. Stoop. He told her everything.
Mrs. Boone listened with great interest, and when Theo finished she said, “Well, I’m not sure April should be blaming herself. From what I know at this point, it looks as though the scandal was going to be discovered anyway. The test results looked suspicious, and the school board was investigating.”
“That’s what I keep telling her.”
“So you knew the names of two of the teachers from the beginning?”
“I guess. I knew what April told me. I’m not sure I believed her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I promised April I would never tell. I can keep a secret, Mom, but sometimes when you’re just a kid the secret gets too big and you need help. Right now I’m worried about April. Plus, you’re a lawyer and you know how important it is to keep the secrets of your clients.”
“April is not your client.”
“She thinks she is.”
“And you’re not a lawyer.”
“I know. I just didn’t want to get in the middle of all this.”
“She should not send the second letter, Theo. That will just make her life more complicated.”
“I know. I’ve told her. But she can be very stubborn.”
“I suggest you have another chat with April and make sure she does not send another letter.”
“Okay. That’s what I’ll do. I didn’t want to play golf anyway.”
Chapter 22
The Sunday newspaper ran a long article about the scandal and the problems it was causing. The criminal charges added a new layer of intrigue to the story, and the chance that the teachers might go to jail seemed to bother a lot of people. It certainly bothered their lawyer, and Mrs. Boone’s photo was on page two. She declined to discuss the case with the reporter, saying it was her professional responsibility to stay quiet and fight the charges in court, not in the press. This was unusual, Theo thought. Nowadays it seemed as though lawyers couldn’t wait to jump in front of cameras and chat with reporters. He admired his mother for staying out of the limelight. Dr. Carmen Stoop likewise had little to say. She took the position that the matter was now headed for court, and until things were resolved there she would stay quiet. Jack Hogan, the prosecutor, was notorious for saying little to the press, but based on the tone of the article, he was taking some heat for pursuing the teachers in criminal court.
Mrs. Boone had filed a thick motion demanding that the charges be dismissed. Judge Henry Gantry had decided to grant her wish for a speedy hearing and scheduled one for the following Thursday. Mrs. Boone had not mentioned the hearing to Theo, probably because she suspected he would immediately start scheming of ways to get into the courtroom.
And she was right. He started right then, on Sunday morning as he read the newspaper. He said nothing to his parents, but the wheels were already turning. How could he, Theo Boone, the only kid lawyer in Strattenburg, miss such an important event? It was unthinkable. He almost choked on his Cheerios when he hatched the idea that he could be considered one of the victims of the scandal; thus, he would need to be in the courtroom.
What a great idea.
Without complaining, he showered and dressed for church. He sat through the worship service with a smile on his face and didn’t hear a word the pastor said. Over lunch with his parents, he chatted about his next debate and his next camping trip, never once mentioning the scandal or anything related to it. Sunday afternoon he met April at Guff’s and finally convinced her not to send any more letters. One was enough.
First thing Monday morning, he cornered Mr. Mount after homeroom and laid out his plan. The hearing in Judge Gantry’s courtroom would be the perfect place for another field trip, for Mr. Mount’s class to observe the judicial process in action.
Mr. Mount was not so sure but said he’d think about it.
Late Monday afternoon, Theo stopped by Ike’s office. Parked outside was a brand-new bicycle, a ten speed with a helmet strapped to the seat. Ike said, “They took away my car keys for six months so I’m biking it now. I need the exercise.” He was drinking coffee from a paper cup and looked fresh, even bright-eyed.
“I’ve stopped drinking, Theo. No more booze for me. This DUI has taught me a valuable lesson, and I’m sobering up.”
“That’s great, Ike. I’m proud of you.”
“Booze is a dead-end street, Theo. Don’t ever start drinking, okay?”
“I’ve managed to avoid the stuff so far.”
“You’re only thirteen. Wait until you get to high school and start driving. That’s when the trouble starts. Promise me you’ll say no when a buddy offers you the first beer.”
Actually, that had already happened. Theo was hanging out at Woody’s house one day when his parents were away. The refrigerator was full of beer, and Woody thought it would be cool to drink a few. Theo declined and left not long afterward.
“I promise, Ike,” he said. “And I’m proud of you.”
“You’re one of the reasons, Theo, to be honest. I was humiliated when my favorite nephew came to the jail to rescue me. I finally realized that enough was enough, and I promised that I would never again put myself in a situation like that. I’m quitting for my own well-being, but I’m also quitting for you. I want to set a better example.”
His voice cracked a little, and his eyes moistened. Theo was not sure what to say.
Theo began his letter that night when he was supposed to be reading a book for English. The first draft began:
Dear Mrs. Gladwell:
As you probably know, Judge Henry Gantry has scheduled a big hearing this Thursday at nine a.m. in his courtroom. The five schoolteachers from East Middle School have been charged with conspiracy and fraud, and, if convicted, might be sentenced to jail. Their lawyer, at least for this hearing, is my mother, Marcella Boone.
I feel as though I have the right to be in the courtroom to watch this important event. Please allow me to explain why.
As you know, I plan to become a lawyer when I grow up. I’ve spent many hours in courtrooms, especially Judge Gantry’s, and I’ve watched many trials. I know all the judges and clerks, and many of the lawyers and policemen. When my friends are playing soccer or baseball, or off at summer camp, I’m usually hanging around the courthouse waiting for a trial to start. I’ve been doing this for years and I enjoy it a lot. It’s not only entertaining but very educational. I see lawyers do things all the time that I know they shouldn’t do, and there’s nothing more interesting, at least to me, than to watch a trial with two great lawyers doing battle. I love their final arguments when they try to persuade the jury to see things their way. And, there’s nothing more tense and dramatic than waiting for a jury to return with its verdict.
You have been kind enough before to allow Mr. Mount to take us on field trips to the courthouse to watch trials and talk to judges. The hearing this Thursday will be the perfect tim
e to take another field trip.
Over dinner tonight I discussed this with my parents. They feel as though I should spend the day in class and not in the courtroom. I’m still working on them, but things do not look too good on that front.
There’s another reason I should be in the courtroom. The five teachers are charged with committing crimes, though, personally, I think this is wrong. Anyway, a crime means there is a victim, and the victim is always expected to be in court. I’ve seen many victims testify and point fingers at the defendants. I’ve seen many victims sit in the front row for days as the witnesses tell their stories.
In this case, the teachers are accused of cheating, and there is a good chance their cheating harmed a group of eighth graders who failed to score high enough on the standardized tests to make Honors. Some of us at Strattenburg Middle, and others at Central Middle, were probably excluded from the Honors program because of the cheating. At this point we don’t know this for a fact, but it looks likely.
I don’t know the names of the other students who are in the same boat with me. And I assume that most of them have no interest in watching the hearing. But, since I’m sort of a victim, I think it’s important to attend the hearing. Also, since my mother is so involved, there is probably no other victim who knows as much about the case. In fact, I know a lot of things I shouldn’t know.
There’s another reason that you probably won’t care about. If I am forced to attend class on Thursday, and miss this important hearing, then I will be completely useless at school. The day will be a waste for me because my mind will be in the courtroom.
I realize you’re probably still ticked off at me for skipping school the other day and I’m still very sorry about that. I promise it will never happen again.
Please, Mrs. Gladwell, please allow Mr. Mount’s class to take another field trip and watch the hearing on Thursday.
Sincerely,
Theo Boone
The more he wrote the better it sounded, and at midnight he was still pecking away on his laptop. The “victim” angle was pure genius, he thought, and he finally fell asleep filled with confidence that Mrs. Gladwell could not say no.
He wrote the final draft early Tuesday morning, printed it, and folded it into an envelope. He did not mention it to his parents. When he arrived at school, he took it straight to Mrs. Gladwell’s office. He bypassed Miss Gloria because she would ask a dozen questions, and he placed the letter in the center of Mrs. Gladwell’s desk.
During lunch, Mr. Mount found him in the cafeteria and handed him a small envelope. He tore it open and pulled out a handwritten note from Mrs. Gladwell. It read:
Dear Theo: Thanks for the letter but the answer is no. DG.
Tuesday, after school, Theo and Judge climbed the stairs at Boone & Boone and walked into his father’s office. Mr. Boone was hard at work with a pile of paperwork, his unlit pipe stuck in one corner of his mouth.
“How was school?” he asked.
“Boring. I can’t concentrate these days, not with the big hearing coming up on Thursday and being kicked out of the courtroom and all. It just seems so unfair.”
“Haven’t we had this conversation?”
“I wouldn’t call it a conversation. I’ve brought up the subject a couple of times and you guys just slam the door. I don’t get to say much.”
“Maybe there’s not much to discuss. You’re not missing school to go to court. It’s really quite simple.”
“I plan to boycott my classes on Thursday.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m boycotting. Not skipping. I’ll be in class all right, but I will not listen to the teachers and I will not take part in any discussion. I’ll do the homework because I’ll get in trouble if I don’t do the homework, but I plan to zone out and just sit there ignoring everything.”
“And you call this a boycott?”
“Something like that. I can’t think of a better word.”
“Sounds pretty stupid to me. Just sitting in class like an imbecile while the world goes by.”
“I don’t care. I’m taking a stand. You guys won’t let me go to court. I have to do something to protest.”
“Protest all you want, but if you make bad grades you’ll pay a price.”
“I’ve got straight A’s, Dad. One day of boycotting won’t hurt my grades.”
“Whatever. Don’t you have Scouts today, or are you boycotting that, too?”
“I’m leaving now.”
Chapter 23
Wednesday afternoon, the five schoolteachers arrived at Boone & Boone for a big meeting. They gathered in the conference room with Mr. and Mrs. Boone, along with Vince and Dorothy. Elsa stayed at the front desk to answer the phone and do her work, and Theo watched and listened as much as possible, but heard nothing. “I think you’d better stay in your little room,” Elsa warned him, and he retreated, again in defeat.
He had one last trick up his sleeve. A few minutes before five, he hopped on his bike and rode to the courthouse. Judge Gantry’s courtroom was empty, just as Theo hoped. He walked down the hall to his office and said hello to Mrs. Hardy. She was arranging things on her desk and getting ready to leave.
“Is the judge in?” Theo asked.
“Yes, but he’s very busy.”
“I just need a minute.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Five minutes later, Theo walked into Judge Gantry’s large office. “Well, hello, Theo,” the judge said. “What brings you here?”
“I need a favor,” Theo said somewhat nervously.
“What a surprise. I’m sure it has something to do with the hearing tomorrow. Let me guess—you believe that we cannot properly conduct matters unless you’re present in the courtroom. Right?”
“Something like that. Just curious, Judge, how long do you think it will last?”
“Couple of hours. It’s not a trial, you know, just a hearing with a few witnesses and the attorneys arguing back and forth.”
“And what time will you start?”
“It’s scheduled for nine a.m., but there are a couple of matters on the docket before it. Some routine motions and such that shouldn’t take too long. Why do you ask?”
“Well, Judge, as you know I spend a lot of time in the courtroom, more than any other kid I know, and it’s not unusual for things to get delayed. Lawyers show up late, or the police, or the bailiffs can’t get the people over from the jail on time. Or some lawyer doesn’t have his paperwork in order, or a fifteen-minute hearing runs for an hour or more. Anyway, as you well know, there are a lot of reasons for things to run behind schedule.”
“I run a pretty tight ship, Theo, if I do say so myself.”
“Yes, sir, I know that, and I’ve watched other judges who are not as organized as you. But, still, things do get delayed, you know.”
“Oh, I see. You want me to slow everything down in the morning.”
“Well, what I had in mind was more like moving the hearing back to one or two in the afternoon, then sort of stalling until school is out.”
“That’s asking a lot, Theo.”
“Yes, sir, I know, but I’m pretty desperate right now. Nothing else has worked. I’ve tried to explain to my parents and to my principal that since I have an interest in this case that I should be allowed to at least know what’s going on.”
“An interest in the case?”
“Yes, sir. I think I’m one of the victims.”
“I don’t follow.”
“You see, Judge, I barely missed Honors, and it was probably because of the cheating at East Middle School.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It’s not something we talk about, and, as far as I know, the names of the students who didn’t make it have not been made public. In fact, the names and scores are kept confidential.”
“I see. And what do your parents think about your being a victim?”
“I’m not sure they see my point. They certainly have not agreed
to let me miss school and watch the hearing. I played hooky a couple of weeks ago, and they’re still pretty sore about that. But I make straight A’s, usually, and school is boring anyway. I think I’m ready for law school, to be honest.”
Judge Gantry took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. He stood and stretched and seemed very tired. He paced around his desk a few times, scratching his chin, deep in thought. Theo watched and waited, somewhat surprised that he’d gotten this far with his scheme. It was a long shot, and he fully expected the judge to order him out of his office with stern instructions to mind his own business. He, Judge Henry Gantry, did not need the help of a thirteen-year-old in managing his courtroom.
“You know, Theo, I’m inclined to agree with you.”
“You are?” Theo blurted, stunned.
“Yes, I see your point, and it’s a good one. You and the other students who are in the same boat should be able to watch the hearing and see what happens.”
“Really? I mean, sure, Judge. I agree.”
Judge Gantry stepped to his desk, pressed a button on the intercom, and said, “Mrs. Hardy, would you please step in here?” He returned to his seat at the conference table and asked, “What time is school dismissed tomorrow?”
“Final bell is at three thirty, but my last period is a study hall that’s easy to get out of. I could be here around two thirty I think.”
“I wouldn’t want to start later than that.”
“Fine with me.”
Mrs. Hardy walked in and Judge Gantry said to her, “I’ve reviewed my docket for tomorrow, and I’m afraid the first few matters might run a bit longer than expected. I’m resetting the motion to dismiss for two thirty. Please call the offices of Jack Hogan and Mrs. Boone, then follow up with e-mails.”