Boomtown

by Nowen N. Particular

  Mr. Hooke approached and asked the first question of the trial: “Please state your full name for the court.”

  “Fredrick Lawrence Archibald Cotton, named after my granddad on my mother’s side and my uncle on my father’s side.”

  “Yes, thank you. Please refrain from any unnecessary embellishment. Just stick to the questions.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “As I understand it, your truck was stolen during a rain-storm in mid-September of last year?”

  “More like it came up missing. Floated down West Chang to be precise.”

  “However it turned up missing, isn’t it true that it ended up in the hands of Xian, who used it to haul dirt from his secret digging site?”

  “That’s what I’ve been told.”

  “You’re aware of the muffler system he installed so he could sneak around town without being detected?”

  “I am. Very clever. Never would have thought of it myself.”

  “Be that as it may, you must be furious knowing that your truck was being used in the commission of a crime.”

  “No, not really. Quite the opposite in fact.”

  “No? May I remind you that you are under oath? It doesn’t bother you, not even in the slightest, that your precious truck, used in the daily conduct of your farming business, was stolen and secretly used by the defendant in a desperate plan to rob the bank, which, may I remind you, included the money you had on deposit?”

  “Why should it? My truck is famous now. The Boomtown Museum wants to put it on permanent display. This is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me!”

  Everyone burst out laughing. Even the judge smiled before she tapped her gavel as a reminder. Horatio Hooke was stunned. This wasn’t what he was expecting. He wanted outrage. He wanted indignation. He wanted demands for justice—not this.

  “No further questions for this witness,” he grumbled and sat down.

  “Mr. Rigdale?”

  “No questions, Your Honor.”

  “Mr. Hooke, call your next witness.”

  Next to the stand was Gramma Edna. She’d had three pies stolen by Xian. The prosecutor tried the same approach as he had with Fred Cotton. It didn’t work any better than it did the first time. Gramma Edna wasn’t upset. Instead, she smiled sweetly at Xian sitting at the defendant’s table and said, “I hope they tasted okay. Sometimes I use too much nutmeg and cinnamon with the apples. And I overcooked one of the crusts. I’m sorry, dear.”

  Horatio Hooke paraded five more people through the witness box, witless “victims” of Xian’s terrifying crime spree: Tom O’Grady, Captain Trudeau, Matthieu LaPierre, Ellis Brown, owner of the Red Bird, and Lazy Gunderson. None of them were angry. Instead they were curious as to when Xian had arrived, how he managed to move around town without being seen, and why he hadn’t simply asked for help.

  Lazy Gunderson said, “Xian did me a favor. My wife has been after me to fix the front fence for years. If he hadn’t stolen the posts and wire, I would have been out there busting my back for a week!”

  Sheriff Burton Ernie was next on the stand. Horatio Hooke had no idea what he’d gotten himself into.

  “Please state your full name for the court.”

  “Burton Albert Ernie.”

  “And what is your current position in Boomtown?”

  “I’m the sheriff here.”

  “You’ve been sheriff for how long?”

  “Twenty-one years this past June.”

  “And in that period of time, how many crimes of any significance have occurred here—crimes of a federal nature?”

  “Just one. Frank Cavenaugh robbed the Bank of Boomtown back in 1929. Frankie the Banker. You can say hello to him. He’s right there in the front row of the bleachers. Hey, Frank!”

  “If you don’t mind, please refrain from addressing any-one besides the officers of this court.”

  “Sorry. It’s just that I didn’t get to arrest Frank this week because of the trial and all. I’ll let him rob the bank twice next week to make it up to him.”

  “Exactly! That is precisely what I wanted to ask you about. As the sheriff of this town, you seem to have a complete disregard for law and order. You spend your days drinking coffee and wandering around town and wasting taxpayer money with your malingering habits. If it weren’t for the cave-in, your neglect and incompetence would have allowed the Bank of Boomtown to be robbed a second time! What do you have to say about that?”

  Burton stared at the pompous lawyer. “I say you don’t have to be so rude, that’s what I say about it.”

  The crowd clapped and cheered. “You tell him, Burt!”

  The judge rapped for order in the court.

  Burton continued. “You come strutting into my town with your fancy suit and expensive shoes and big-city swagger and talk to my friends like they’re a bunch of greenhorns. You don’t understand Boomtown at all. I may not be the best investigator that ever was, but you forget that in more’n twenty years, we’ve only had one real crime. That crime was solved and most of the money was returned. And you see Frank over there? We helped rehabilitate him. That’s more than most towns can say. And finally, when it comes to Xian, your theory is that he was heading for the bank, but you don’t know that. All you know is that he’s a means to an end—a way for you to make a name for yourself. We don’t have much patience for that sort of thing in Boomtown.”

  When Burton was finished with his speech, the crowd let out another roar. This time the judge didn’t stop them. You could tell by the look on her face that she was in agreement with Burton; she didn’t like ambitious lawyers any more than he did. Horatio threw up his hands and returned to his seat. George had no questions for the witness. Judge Rodriguez called for a lunch recess. I would be called as a witness following the break. The relief was welcome; it had to be almost ninety degrees inside the tent.

  Following lunch, court was reconvened and the bailiff called the court to order. The jury filed in and took their seats. Judge Maria Rodriguez instructed the prosecuting attorney to call his final witness. As soon as I was seated and sworn in, Horatio Hooke confidently approached the witness box and began his questions. I could tell from his demeanor that in spite of the unexpected testimony from earlier in the day, he thought I was just what he needed to turn the tide and get the guilty verdict he wanted.

  “You are the current minister of Boomtown Church?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “And how long have you served in that capacity?”

  “My family and I arrived in town August of last year.”

  “And as a minister, as a man of the cloth, as a man who has dedicated his entire life to the propagation and defense of the truth, can I depend on you to be perfectly honest and accurate as you answer my questions?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you. Is it true, then, that your brand-new lawn mower was stolen from the front yard of your home?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Is it also true that your lawn mower was found in the tunnel under Town Square, where it was being used to ferry dirt out of the tunnel?”

  “Yes.”

  “And it was you, the owner of said stolen lawn mower, who nearly plunged to his death when the street gave way and you were pulled downward into that yawning pit where you nearly died, as I understand, for the sixth time in less than a year?”

  “Yes. That was me.”

  “And when you briefly regained consciousness, you saw the defendant, Xian, standing near you in the tunnel?”

  “Yes. I saw him there.”

  “So there can be no doubt in your mind that it was Xian who was responsible for the theft of your lawn mower, no doubt that he was the one responsible for stealing Fred Cotton’s truck, Lazy Gunderson’s fence, the lights, the digging tools, who knows what else, and no doubt in your mind whatsoever that it was Xian who nearly caused your death by cave-in?”

  I hesitated. I looked at Janice. I looked at my children. I looked at all t
he townsfolk who were gathered there. Finally, I looked into the eyes of Xian sitting a few feet away from me. I really had only one thing I could say.

  “There is no doubt in my mind. Xian is the one who has done all these things.”

  “Aha!” shouted Horatio Hooke. “I’ve got him!” The law-yer began to hop up and down in joy. Visions of fame and fortune danced in his head.

  “With all due respect, sir, just what do you have him for?” I asked.

  “For theft. For malicious mischief. For attempting to rob the bank! For nearly killing you, my fine fellow! He’s guilty of all charges. Guilty! I’ve got him dead to rights.”

  “You’re assuming, of course, that by the end of this trial, you’ll still have someone who wants to press charges. I’m not so sure I’ll be among them.”

  “What? What are you talking about? He nearly killed you!”

  “I’ve been through worse.”

  Horatio Hooke didn’t know what to say. He sputtered. He stammered. He steamed. He stomped back to his table, wiped the sweat from his brow, and took a long drink from his glass of water. He stopped to flip through his notepad. He seemed to be searching for something, found it, and then turned back to face me with a knowing smile. There was a strange look in his eye, like a cat that had already eaten the canary and was looking for dessert.

  The lawyer addressed me with a patronizing tone. “You’re being quite liberal when it comes to dispensing forgiveness, Reverend, but that’s the business you’re in, I suppose. But would you feel the same if you knew how this criminal had duped your son into helping him?”

  “My son? How does my son have anything to do with this?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?” I glanced over at Jonny, who was avoiding eye contact with me.

  “That all these months, behind your back, your son and his friends have been supplying Xian with food and water. That they, in fact, could be charged with aiding and abet-ting a suspected felon.”

  A loud murmur passed through the crowd.

  “What are you talking about? Why would you say some-thing like that?”

  Horatio pointed a fat, stubby finger in Jonny’s direction. “Maybe we should ask your son! ”

  Every eye in the courtroom turned to look at Jonny, who was sinking lower and lower into his chair. He tried to cover up his head with his arms. I could see three or four of his friends doing the same thing up in the bleachers. I even saw Busy try to slip under the bleachers and head for the exit, but Lazy caught him by the sleeve.

  “Jonny?” I asked, staring at my son in dismay. He looked back at me wide-eyed and trembling. “For heaven’s sake, Jonny, what have you gone and gotten yourself into this time?”

  CHAPTER 16

  Jonny’s Testimony

  Before things could get out of hand, Judge Rodriguez took charge.

  “Reverend Button, I’m going to ask you to take a seat. The prosecuting attorney reserves the right to recall you to the stand. Isn’t that what you’d prefer, Mr. Hooke?” The lawyer nodded in agreement.

  As I stepped down and walked over to where my family was sitting, the judge continued. “Jonny, I’m going to have you come up here for a minute. I need to ask you a few questions.”

  Janice put her arm around Jonny to protect him, but he stood up and said in his bravest voice, “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll go.” He scooted down the row of chairs and walked toward the judge’s bench. He kept his eyes down—he wouldn’t look at me.

  “Jonny, I want you to sit there in the witness stand. I’m not going to swear you in—you’re not on trial here. But I do need to talk to you. Anything you say won’t get you in trouble—well, maybe some trouble—but I’m on your side. Don’t worry.”

  Jonny sat down and answered nervously, “Okay. If you say so.”

  “Yes, I say so. Now, I’m going to ask you something. Don’t be afraid. Don’t worry about your father for a minute. Don’t think about the lawyers or anything else. I want you to pretend it’s just you and me. Do you think you can do that?”

  Jonny glanced over at me then back at the judge. “I’ll try.”

  “That’s good. Okay. Now, is there anything you need to tell me? Something to do with Xian over there?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t hear you. You need to speak a little louder.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  “What can you tell me about Xian?”

  “We saw him.”

  “Who saw him?”

  “My friends and me. On Halloween. We saw him. In Town Square.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We wanted to go trick-or-treating together. Busy and Lonnie wanted to meet in the square.”

  “Just the three of you?”

  “No,” Jonny hesitated, glancing around at the bleachers. “Sorry, guys. It was me and Busy and Lonnie and Rocky and Frank and Bobby and Steve.”

  “The seven of you got together as planned. So then what happened?”

  “We all had our flashlights. We were talking about where we wanted to go first, and we were shining them on the statue of Chang. That’s when we saw him—I mean, Xian—standing there looking up at the statue.”

  “Xian was in Town Square? Why?”

  “We don’t know. We just knew we were scared, because they looked so much alike. It was like Chang’s ghost was standing there! Then he saw us looking at him and he ran down the street past the library. So we followed him.”

  “You followed him. Where did he go?”

  “We were sneaky about it. We stayed in the shadows and hid behind bushes so we could watch him. He went down the road and then out into Lazy Gunderson’s field. He kept going until he got to the fireworks factory. That was really spooky ’cause Busy said it proved it was Chang’s ghost; he was going back to haunt his factory. And then, all of a sudden, he disappeared! We didn’t see where he went.”

  “He disappeared?”

  “Yeah, like he sort of vanished. Lonnie says that’s what ghosts do. Bobby said he saw one once in their attic. It was like that. Poof! He was gone.”

  “Was that the end of it?”

  “No. The next morning we wanted to go back and look around. We didn’t see anything at first, but then Rocky spotted some footprints near the river and a candy wrapper next to some trees. We decided to come back that night and see what happened. That’s what we did. Me and my friends hid in the bushes and waited.

  “About midnight we heard some branches moving and saw a flicker. Then here comes Chang—we thought it was Chang—right out of the dark carrying a lantern. Bobby screamed, ‘It’s the ghost!’ We all screamed, not just him. That’s when he caught us hiding in the bushes.”

  Horatio Hooke was looking at me with a smug grin on his face while Jonny was talking. I wondered how he’d figured it out—how did he know about the boys? Why hadn’t I figured it out? I was his father. Suddenly a lot of things were starting to make sense. How could I be so blind? The judge prompted Jonny to continue.

  “We could tell he was cold and hungry. So me and my friends decided to help him. I took some food from our pan-try at home. Rocky got some from his house. Bobby rustled up a few things around town—so did some of the other guys. After that, we all took turns going out to the tunnel at night. We took out some blankets and spare clothes and whatever else we could find.”

  So that’s why things had started disappearing from around the house—little things like my coat and the food. It’s why Jonny had seemed so tired all the time. I knew he was up to some-thing, but I never figured he’d been sneaking out at night.

  “Was that all? Just some food and clothes?”

  “At first. But then we got to know him a little bit. He told us his name was Xian. It sounded like ‘Sean’ when he said it, kind of like my name, Jon, so I wanted to help. He didn’t tell us who he was, just that he was digging for something. He said it belonged to him; it was lost a long time ago and he came to find it.”

  “So yo
u helped him dig?” The judge sounded shocked. I, too, found that hard to believe; I couldn’t get Jonny to pick up his dirty socks; I sure couldn’t imagine him digging a tunnel.

  “It made the work go a lot faster,” Jonny admitted. “We took turns, two of us at a time. Xian did most of the hard work, but we helped him put up the beams to hold up the tunnel. And while we helped him, he helped us. He was the one who came up with the rope puller, the one over on Slippery Slope.”

  “I see. And how long did it take to dig all these tunnels?”

  “I don’t know, a long time. Several months, I guess.”

  “You’re telling me that you and your friends helped Xian dig more than a mile’s worth of tunnels in less than nine months? That hardly seems likely.”

  “They weren’t all caved in,” Jonny explained. “A long time ago, Boomtown blew itself inside out. A lot of the tunnels collapsed, but not all of them. We found one that was almost half a mile long. That was about two months ago.”

  “In May?”

  “Yeah. Then school let out and we had more time. It went pretty fast after that. We were worried, though.”

  “Worried?”

  “Sure. Sheriff Ernie had found the letter by then, and people had figured out that Chang maybe had a son. We asked Xian about that. He told us Chang was his great-grandfather. We figured it was something like that, anyway. Chang and Xian were practically twins.”

  “Is that it? What about what happened on Fourth of July?”

  “Xian was pretty upset. Not about the cave-in. A couple of days before that.”

  “What was he upset about?”

  “Because we found the chamber. You know, the one underneath the statue? That’s what Xian had been looking for. But it was empty.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to be empty?”

  “No. He never told us what to expect. But he found the chamber where it was supposed to be. When it was empty, Xian almost cried. We all did. All we found was some Chinese writing on the wall. Xian said it was a note written to Chang’s wife, but he wouldn’t tell us what it said. It sure made him sad, though. The next day the street caved in. You already know about that.”