The Activist tb-4

by John Grisham

  “That’s our property,” Hardie said.

  “What are they doing?” Theo asked.

  “Don’t know, but they shouldn’t be there,” Hardie said.

  “We should’ve brought binoculars,” Woody said.

  “Better yet, let’s go find out,” Hardie said, and the boys forgot about fishing. Theo could have let it pass; the men did not appear to be doing anything wrong, but he did not understand how much the Quinn family valued their land and its privacy. The boys jumped on their bikes. “Follow me,” Hardie said as they took off. Judge, soaking wet, followed Theo, who followed Woody. They went a short distance and crossed the creek on an old footbridge, one barely wide enough for bikes, then they sped along a dirt road until they approached the men.

  There were four of them, three younger men with an older guy who was probably the boss. Their truck was a large, service-type vehicle with a club cab and the words STRATEGIC SURVEYS painted on the doors. Not far from the truck was the beginning of a line of stakes stuck in the ground with red ribbons tied to each top.

  “What do you boys want?” the older man asked.

  Hardie was off his bike and approaching the men. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “Maybe that’s none of your business, kid.”

  “Maybe it is. This is my family’s property. Who gave you permission to be here?”

  The three younger men laughed at this kid with the questions. Theo looked at them—all three were fairly large with dirty shirts and beards and the general appearance of men who lived hard and made no effort to avoid trouble.

  “Don’t get smart with me boy,” the older man said.

  “What’s your name?” Hardie shot back.

  “Willis. What’s yours?”

  “Hardie Quinn. My family has owned this land for a hundred years.”

  “Well congratulations,” Willis said with a sneer. “Ownership is about to pass over to the state.”

  The other three found this funny and they laughed again, and as they did so they inched forward, closer to the rear of the truck where Willis was standing less than ten feet from Hardie. Theo took a step forward and said, “He asked you a question. Who gave you permission to come onto this land?”

  “The state,” Willis growled toward Theo, who quickly said, “Oh yeah, but the state doesn’t own this property yet.”

  “A bunch of wise guys,” Willis said to his men. Then to Hardie and Theo he said, “Look, boys, we’re here doing some preliminary survey work for the bypass, that’s all. Our company has a contract with the state and they sent us out here. Why don’t you boys just relax and go on about your business? We’re doing our jobs and we’re not bothering anyone.”

  To which Hardie fired back, “You’re bothering me because you don’t have permission to be here.”

  Theo, the lawyer, quickly added, “You’re trespassing, okay? And that’s a criminal offense. You can go to jail for it.”

  The shortest of the three younger men took a step in Theo’s direction and said, “Wow, a real know-it-all. You watch too much TV, kid.”

  “That, or maybe I just have the ability to read,” Theo shot back. Shorty’s face turned red and he clenched his fists. Woody stepped beside Theo, and Judge was at his feet. The situation was tense and ridiculous. Three thirteen-year-old boys and a mutt facing off against four full-grown men. There seemed to be a stalemate. The men were not leaving, and the boys were not backing down.

  Theo had an idea, one that would quickly prove to be disastrous. He reached into his pocket, removed his cell phone, and said, “I’m calling 911. We’ll let the police help us out here.”

  Willis yelled, “Put that phone down, kid! You’re not calling the police!”

  Theo said, “I can call anybody I want to call. Who are you to tell me I can’t call someone?”

  “I said put the phone down!”

  Shorty suddenly lunged for Theo. He grabbed him by the arm, shook it violently, sent Theo’s phone flying into the dirt, then shoved Theo to the ground. “Stupid kid,” Shorty mumbled. Woody and Hardie were startled by this act of aggression, and they stepped back.

  Judge, however, never hesitated. He attacked Shorty and almost bit his leg before getting kicked away. Judge growled and hissed and darted again for Shorty, who said, “Get that dog away from me.”

  “Come here, Judge!” Theo said as he scrambled to his feet. At that moment, he wished Judge could have been a ninety-pound pit bull trained to attack instead of a forty-pound mutt who was afraid of cats. But he was not afraid of Shorty. In a flash, Judge attacked again, and again got kicked to the side. He barked in anger and frustration and bolted again at Shorty.

  As they would soon find out, the third man’s name was Larry, one of Shorty’s sidekicks. Larry suddenly stepped forward with a five-foot, wooden survey stake, and as Judge again went after Shorty, Larry struck the dog on the back of the head. Theo screamed and Hardie yelled and Woody picked up a rock. In the dust and dirt and chaos and horror of the moment, Larry kept whacking away at Judge as Shorty kept kicking him and the boys attempted to react. Woody rushed forward and was tripped by the third man. He fell on top of Theo. Hardie was yelling, “Put the stick down, okay!!”

  Theo finally managed to throw himself on top of Judge, and for good measure Larry popped Theo on the rear end with the stake. The men were laughing; the boys were crying; and poor little Judge was bleeding and whimpering.

  The men backed away.

  Theo cradled his dog and gently lifted him. He had blood all over his head and his body was limp. “Talk to me, Judge,” Theo pleaded through tears.

  Hardie screamed at the men, “You’ll pay for this.”

  Theo began running. He clutched Judge to his chest and ran past his bike, because he knew he couldn’t ride it and hold Judge at the same time. Hardie and Woody jumped on their bikes and soon caught up with Theo, who was jogging in a daze, tears on his cheeks, blood on his shirt, Judge close to his heart.

  Hardie said, “Woody, you stay with Theo. I’ll sprint ahead and get my grandfather.”

  “Good idea,” Woody said, and Hardie was gone.

  “Is he alive, Theo?” Woody asked softly as he rode as close to Theo as possible.

  Theo bit his lip and said, “I don’t know. He’s not moving.”

  Blood was dripping from Theo’s elbow. He was running as fast as he could.

  Chapter 14

  Hardie and his grandfather, Mr. Silas Quinn, found Theo and Woody as they crossed Red Creek. Theo was soaked with sweat and blood and the stress was triggering an asthmatic attack. He was pumping his inhaler as he hovered over Judge, who wasn’t moving. Mr. Quinn quickly scooped up the dog and placed him on the seat of his pickup truck. “Put the bike back there and get in,” he ordered, and Woody tossed his bike into the bed of the truck. The boys crowded into the front seat, with Theo gently cradling Judge, whose eyes were closed.

  “Is he gonna make it?” Hardie asked his grandfather.

  “He’ll be all right,” Mr. Quinn said as he shifted gears and took off. He had already called 911 and requested an ambulance and the police. He wanted the survey crew off his property, and he would have preferred to confront them himself. But, at the moment, there was a badly injured dog to deal with. They were flying along a gravel road, headed for town. Mr. Quinn said, “Who has a cell phone?”

  Woody did not because he was only thirteen and his parents thought he was too young. Hardie had one but he wasn’t sure where it was. Theo said, “I do.”

  “I think you should call your parents, Theo,” Mr. Quinn said. Theo gently placed Judge into Woody’s lap and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Where are we going?” Theo asked.

  “Not sure,” Mr. Quinn said. “Who’s your vet?”

  “Dr. Kohl.”

  Elsa answered the phone at the office. She informed Theo that his mother was in a meeting with a client but his father was not. As he told his dad what happened, he gently stroked Judge between the eyes. He
glanced at Woody, the toughest kid he knew, and saw tears.

  They stopped the ambulance in the middle of the county road that led to the Quinn farm. At first the crew was not sure how to handle an injured dog, but Mr. Quinn was not a man to argue with. In loud and colorful language, he told the crew to take Theo and the dog to Dr. Kohl’s office on South Clement Street. Mr. Quinn, Hardie, and Woody would follow in the pickup truck.

  Inside the ambulance, Theo watched as the two paramedics treated Judge as though he were a badly injured child. They placed him on a sterile white gurney, cleaned his wounds, whispered words of encouragement to him, and checked his pulse. Though it was obvious to Theo they were trained to assist humans and not dogs, they did a wonderful job of making Judge comfortable, and Theo as well. His shirt was covered with blood and dirt, and one of the paramedics slowly wiped it with gauze to make it somewhat cleaner.

  “He has a pulse,” the other one said as he pulled a sheet up to Judge’s neck. “I think he’ll be all right.”

  “Thanks,” Theo managed to say.

  “We’ve never hauled in a dog before,” one said. “What happened to him?”

  Theo just shook his head, unable to tell the story.

  For almost forty years, Dr. Kohl had mended and healed most of the dogs and cats and other small animals in Strattenburg. His quiet little office was in an old shopping center that had seen better days. His long-time receptionist was Miss Ross, a fiercely efficient assistant known to call and scold clients when their pets’ rabies vaccines had expired.

  Miss Ross was at her desk late that Friday, making things tidy and getting ready to leave, when the phone rang and Mr. Woods Boone explained the family dog was en route and in bad shape. Was Dr. Kohl around? Indeed he was. Minutes later, Miss Ross watched in disbelief as an ambulance roared to a stop at the front door.

  In forty years with Dr. Kohl, she could not remember an injured animal arriving in an ambulance. She knew Judge Boone was a special dog (weren’t they all?) but had no idea he had such respect in the community. Behind the ambulance was a pickup truck, then a police car, then two other vehicles. A paramedic cradled the dog and rushed him inside. The small waiting room quickly filled with a bunch of nervous people—Theo, his buddies, his parents, Mr. Quinn, the paramedics and ambulance driver, Elsa from the office, and two officers in uniform.

  While Dr. Kohl and a technician carried Judge into the back for X-rays, Theo was examined by his parents. He was covered in dirt, blood, and sweat. He was barely able to control his emotions as he told the story, with Woody and Hardie helping with the details.

  “He actually struck you with the stick?” Mr. Boone said.

  “Twice, on the backside,” Theo answered. “And the short one knocked me down.”

  “One of them pushed me down too,” Woody added.

  “This is outrageous,” Mrs. Boone said, staring at the two policemen. One of them said, “We’re on the scene, Mrs. Boone.”

  “I should hope so.”

  “We want to press charges as soon as possible,” Mr. Boone said. “I want these thugs in jail.”

  “So do I,” said Mr. Quinn. “They were on my property without permission.”

  The group quickly agreed that the bad guys must be brought to justice, then things settled down a bit. The waiting began. The policemen and ambulance crew signed off and disappeared. Miss Ross made a pot of coffee and they all drank it from paper cups. After about an hour, Dr. Kohl came out for his first update. He explained that Judge was alive, barely, but in bad shape. He had a faint pulse. He had taken several blows to the head and these had caused a severe concussion. There was no fracture of the skull, but quite a lot of swelling around the brain. His right front leg was broken and several teeth were knocked out. In Dr. Kohl’s opinion, he was lucky to still be breathing and the next twenty-four hours would be crucial. If the brain continued to swell, Judge probably would not survive.

  Dr. Kohl led Theo and his parents into the rear of the clinic, to an exam room where the lights were dimmed. On a small table covered with a sterile white sheet, Judge lay on his side, eyes closed, tongue hanging out, fur shaved from his face and head, an IV stuck to his left front leg, and a splint on his right front leg. He was such a pathetic sight that Theo immediately began crying. He couldn’t help it and he couldn’t stop. He hated crying, especially in front of a stranger, but, staring at his gravely wounded buddy, he just couldn’t hold back the tears. Mrs. Boone was crying too.

  After they gawked at Judge for a long time, Dr. Kohl said, “There is nothing else I can do. I’ll have a technician here all night to monitor things, but, frankly, it’s now just a matter of waiting.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Theo said, teeth and braces clenched tightly. “I’m staying here all night.”

  “Come on, Theo,” Mr. Boone said.

  “I’m not leaving. When I’m sick, Judge stays beside my bed and never leaves. I can do the same for him. Forget it, Dad, I’m not leaving.”

  Mrs. Boone said, “Theo—”

  “Forget it, Mom. Judge needs to hear my voice and know that I’m here. I’ll talk to him all night, okay? Please.”

  The adults looked at each other, then Dr. Kohl shrugged. “It’s up to you,” he said. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

  Mrs. Boone said, “Okay, Theo, but let’s go home, have a quick dinner, take a shower, and change clothes.”

  “No Mom. I’m not leaving. I’ll never leave Judge. Never.”

  Occasionally, in the chaotic game of parenting, it was important for the adults to yield and allow the kids to get their way. This seemed like a perfect moment, and Mr. and Mrs. Boone were wise enough to understand.

  Mrs. Boone stepped closer and patted her son on the shoulder. “Okay, Theo, we’re going to run home, get some clean clothes and something to eat, and we’ll be back in an hour. Okay?”

  “Thanks Mom,” Theo said, without taking his eyes off Judge.

  When his parents and Dr. Kohl were gone, and the door was closed, Theo leaned over Judge and gently kissed him on the nose. With tears dripping off his cheek, he began whispering into his ear. “I love you, Judge, and I’m gonna talk to you until you wake up. Okay? Listen to me, Judge, because I’ll never stop talking.”

  But Judge never moved.

  Chapter 15

  It would be a long night. Mrs. Boone brought Theo a sandwich, which he could not eat, and a clean shirt and jeans. She and Mr. Boone took turns sitting in the cramped exam room with Theo and Judge. There were only two chairs, one on each side of the table where Judge clung to life. Dr. Kohl’s assistant was a strange young woman named Star. She had purple hair and a ring in her nose, but in spite of first appearances, she was incredibly sweet and deeply concerned about Judge. When Dr. Kohl said good-bye around 9:00 p.m., he explained to Theo and his parents they were welcome to spend the night in the clinic, and Star would take care of things. Dr. Kohl would keep his cell phone nearby and could be at the clinic within ten minutes if something happened. The Boones thanked him repeatedly.

  Out in the reception room, Woody, Hardie, and Mr. Quinn were still waiting. They had been there for hours with nothing to do but wait. They had ordered a pizza, which they had shared with Star. When Dr. Kohl left, they decided to leave too. Woody and Hardie promised Theo they would return early on Saturday morning to check on him and Judge. When they embraced for the night, all three boys had moist eyes. It had been a long, rough day.

  A few minutes after they left, April Finnemore arrived with her mother, May, an unusual woman Theo and everybody else tried to avoid. Because Star refused to allow visitors back in the exam rooms, Theo had a chat with April in the front reception area. He didn’t want to tell the story again but didn’t have much of a choice. April was one of his best friends, and when she asked, through tears—“Theo what happened?”—he had little choice but to start with the fishing trip and finish with a badly injured dog.

  Ms. Finnemore, who had a big mouth and a penchant for high drama, listen
ed with wild eyes and her hand over her mouth, as if she had never heard of such brutality. Mrs. Boone managed to ease her off to one side so the kids could talk. Theo adored April, but he was relieved when she left with her mother.

  Things changed when Uncle Ike arrived ten minutes later. He insisted on seeing Judge, and when Star objected Ike growled at her and she ran for cover. After a visit with Judge, and a few words whispered into his ear, Ike announced he would be staying there through the night with Theo. Mr. and Mrs. Boone were to go home and get some sleep. Star could hang around if she wanted. She explained that Dr. Kohl had instructed her to monitor Judge throughout the night. Ike seemed to approve of this.

  Mr. and Mrs. Boone left again, with another round of hugs and thanks to Star, and they promised to sleep with their cell phones in case something happened. Star locked the front door of the clinic and retreated to a small employees’ lounge. Ike assumed a seat next to Judge and said, “Theo, it’s important for Judge to hear our voices, okay? So you and I are going to talk as long as we possibly can. We’re going to tell stories, take turns, make up jokes, whatever it takes to keep the words flowing, okay?”

  “Sure, Ike.” Theo was standing beside Judge. Ike slung his feet and sandals onto a small counter and somehow managed to get comfortable in the cheap plastic chair. He said, “Now, I want you to tell me again the story of how that stupid kid got himself bitten by the copperhead last week.”

  Theo frowned and said, “Come on, Ike. I’m sick of that story.”

  Ike said, “It’s not about you, not about me, it’s all about Judge. Maybe Judge wants to hear the story again. Your voice, Theo, somewhere down deep, in the deepest part of his little wounded brain, Judge can hear your voice. He doesn’t care what you’re saying. What matters is that he knows you’re here, next to him, talking to him.”

  Theo swallowed hard, and began the story of Percy and the copperhead.