Theodore Boone: The Activist Read online

  “Nothing else,” she said. Theo leaned over and whispered, “Mom, he’s lying.” She just nodded. Woody leaned over to his father and whispered, “Dad, he’s lying.” Hardie leaned over to his grandfather and whispered, “Pops, he’s lying.”

  “Call your next witness,” Judge Yeck said. As Willis Keeth walked forward, Judge Yeck glanced down at Theo and gave him a quick wink. No one saw it but Theo.

  Mr. Keeth acknowledged he was the supervisor but did not want to talk about whether he had taken his crew onto someone’s private property without permission. The trespassing issue would be settled in another court. As to the injured dog, he told the same story as Larry Samson. No stick, no repeated blows, no real contact or controversy with the animal. The poor dog somehow got tangled up and was run over by one or more of the bikes. He didn’t see it all and was perfectly vague on certain details. Mrs. Boone tried to pin him down on exactly where he was standing during the confrontation, but Mr. Keeth had a bad memory.

  More lying continued with Lester Green, though his memory was even worse than his boss’s. But, he stuck to their story and placed all blame for Judge’s injuries on a bad bike wreck. As he finished, Judge Yeck, who had been growing visibly frustrated, sent a chill through the courtroom when he asked Mr. Green, “Sir, do you know what perjury means?”

  The witness looked confused, lost, then a bit frightened. The judge helped him along by saying, “Perjury, Mr. Green, is when a witness lies on the stand after being sworn to tell the truth. Understand?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Good, now do you know the penalty for perjury in this state?”

  “Not really.”

  “Didn’t think so. The penalty is whatever I want it to be, up to twelve months in jail. Did your lawyer explain this to you?”

  “No sir.”

  “Didn’t think so. You may return to your seat.”

  The brief perjury discussion sent ripples of fear through the other side of the courtroom. Larry Samson, Willis Keeth, and Lester Green all exchanged nervous looks. Ms. Caffrey was lost in her note taking.

  Mr. Boone leaned down to Theo and said, “They’re going to jail.”

  Judge heard this and flicked his ears.

  “Call your next witness, Ms. Caffrey,” Judge Yeck said gruffly.

  “Mr. Gino Gordon.”

  Mr. Gino Gordon suddenly had no desire to testify. He had trouble getting out of his chair, had trouble walking only a few feet to the witness chair, and had trouble settling himself into it. If ever a witness wanted to flee a courtroom, it was Gino Gordon.

  “Do you swear to tell the truth?” Judge Yeck asked.

  “I guess.”

  “Yes or no, Mr. Gordon?”

  “Okay, yes.”

  “Now, before you get started, do you know what perjury means?” Judge Yeck’s rising tone and sarcastic voice left no doubt he believed Gordon was about to lie, just like the rest of his crew.

  “Yes, I do,” he replied, his eyes dancing around nervously.

  “And do you understand you can go to jail for perjury?”

  Before he could answer, Ms. Caffrey said, angrily, “Judge, please, he hasn’t said anything yet.”

  “I get that,” Yeck shot back. “Let’s just say that I’m warning him, okay? Proceed.”

  Ms. Caffrey said, “Mr. Gordon, will you tell the court what happened?”

  Mr. Gordon looked as though he was suddenly paralyzed from the neck down, with only the muscles in his face able to move. They formed a painful frown, one of complete confusion. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. He glared at Ms. Caffrey, but she was looking for something in her briefcase.

  If he told a lie, he might go to jail. If he told the truth, his buddy Larry might get convicted, and his boss might fire him. He was finally able to mumble, “Well, Judge, I really didn’t see anything.”

  Judge Yeck anticipated this and retorted, “But all three boys said you were right there. How could you miss it? Are you being truthful?”

  “Well, you see, Judge, I really don’t want to testify.”

  “Smart man. Go back to your seat.”

  The main door opened and two more deputies marched in and found chairs.

  “Any more witnesses, Ms. Caffrey?”

  “No, Your Honor.”

  “Mrs. Boone?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, we would like to call Dr. Neal Kohl to the stand. He’s the vet who treated Judge.”

  Dr. Kohl came forward and was sworn in. Mrs. Boone asked him to describe the injuries. Slowly and with great detail, Dr. Kohl testified that Judge suffered multiple wounds to the top, sides, and back of his head, as well as two more along the top of his spine. And, of course, a broken right front leg.

  Mrs. Boone said, “You’ve heard the witnesses, Dr. Kohl. What caused the injuries? Repeated blows from a stick of wood, or the rubber tires of a bicycle?”

  “I object,” Ms. Caffrey said.

  “Overruled. Please answer, Dr. Kohl.”

  Dr. Kohl smiled, took a deep breath, and said, “It’s absurd to claim the dog’s injuries were the result of being run over by a bicycle. He was injured by several hard blows from a blunt instrument.”

  Judge Yeck looked at Ms. Caffrey, but she had nothing else. “Thank you, Dr. Kohl. Please step down. Anything else from the lawyers? Any more witnesses?” Judge Yeck looked at his watch and continued, “We’ve been here almost two hours. Anybody got anything else they want to say before I make my ruling?”

  No one volunteered. On the Boone side, there was the general feeling that enough had been said, and across the aisle there was nothing but fear.

  Judge Yeck looked at the court reporter and said, “On the record, please. I am presented with two very different versions of what happened. The three boys tell one story, the three crew members tell another. The truth is usually somewhere in the middle, but not in this case. I believe the boys, and I believe the crew members—Mr. Samson, Mr. Keeth, and Mr. Green—created a story designed to keep them out of trouble.” He glared at the men, and continued: “I think you decided you could walk into this little courtroom, into Animal Court, and simply tell your lies and all would be well. You’re grown men; therefore, the court would certainly believe you before it would believe a bunch of kids. That is unfortunate. Lying is lying, regardless of who does it, and when you lie under oath in a court of law you undermine our judicial system. You, Mr. Samson, I find guilty of cruelty to animals, a Class Three offense because it involves the intentional infliction of injury. For that, I sentence you to six months in jail.”

  Samson yelled, “Six months! Are you kidding me?”

  “No. Would you like more?”

  “You’re crazy!” Samson yelled again, and seemed ready to attack the bench. Two deputies stood quickly and lurked nearby. Behind Samson, his wife began sobbing. “I got a wife and kids!” he yelled.

  “Quiet, Mr. Samson,” Judge Yeck demanded. “I’m not finished. I also find you guilty of perjury, and sentence you to sixty days in jail, in addition to the six months.”

  “This ain’t Animal Court, this is kangaroo court,” Samson hissed.

  “Get him outta here,” Judge Yeck said to the deputies, who grabbed Samson, slapped on handcuffs, and half dragged him away. When the door slammed, Judge Yeck glared at Willis Keeth and Lester Green, both of whom were wide-eyed and pale. He took a deep breath—they weren’t breathing—and said, “As for Mr. Gordon, you were wise enough to clam up and not testify, so you’ll not be going to jail tonight. Mr. Keeth and Mr. Green will not be so lucky. I find you guilty of perjury and sentence you to sixty days in jail.”

  “We’ll appeal,” Ms. Caffrey said.

  “You have that right, but as of now they’re headed to jail. Take them away.”

  The deputies hurried around Keeth and Green. When the handcuffs were in pla
ce, they led them away.

  As they walked past, Judge was on all fours, growling as loudly as possible.

  Chapter 18

  As was now the custom, Judge slept on the end of Theo’s bed, as opposed to sleeping under it. As Judge tossed and turned through the night, he sometimes whimpered when his wounds ached. Theo could usually talk him back to sleep. Judge was mending rapidly and enjoying the attention. Theo was not sleeping too well but didn’t care. He would never again fuss at his dog over anything.

  On the Thursday morning after Animal Court, Theo carried Judge downstairs and released him into the backyard. Mrs. Boone was sitting at the kitchen table in her night robe, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper. “Front page,” she said, and handed Theo the Strattenburg Gazette.

  At the bottom of the front page, a bold headline read, SURVEY CREW THROWN IN JAIL. And in the center of the article was a photo of Theo holding Judge as they left court. In the excitement of the moment, Theo had been vaguely aware of a reporter and a photographer.

  “Wow,” he said as he admired the photo. The caption under it read, THEODORE BOONE, WITH DOG, JUDGE, SAYS HE PLANS TO FIGHT THE BYPASS AND ALL THE THUGS WHO WORK FOR IT.

  “Did you really say that?” his mother asked.

  “I guess I did.”

  “Seems a bit strong, doesn’t it?”

  “Maybe.” Theo read the article. There were quotes from both parents, Mora Caffrey, Judge Yeck, and Larry Samson. All in all, it was an accurate account of what happened. The defendants disagreed with the verdicts and planned to appeal. Ms. Caffrey promised to have her clients out of jail by noon Thursday. Mr. Silas Quinn said he had filed a civil lawsuit against the four men and their company, and so on. Nothing new, really, except a rather nice photo of Theo and Judge on the front page. Theo liked it.

  “You shouldn’t have called them thugs,” Mrs. Boone said.

  “Why not? They’re thugs, right? They trespassed and they beat my dog with a stick. They’re not exactly nice guys.”

  “You gotta be careful around reporters, Theo. They’re always ready to pounce on the wrong word. Especially Norris Flay.”

  “Who’s Norris Flay?”

  “The guy you spoke to. The guy who wrote the article. He’s been around a long time and knows how to spin a story. If there’s a hot issue in town, Norris Flay will be there.”

  “Isn’t that his job?”

  “Yes, it certainly is. But he doesn’t always get things right.”

  Theo opened the back door and retrieved his dog. Judge was ready for breakfast. Theo fixed two bowls of cereal and placed one on the floor next to his chair.

  Mrs. Boone sipped her coffee and said, “Your father is not too happy about this. He doesn’t want you involved in the bypass fight.”

  “Didn’t know I was involved.”

  “It appears you are now. You’re on the front page vowing to fight the bypass.”

  “Why does Dad care?”

  “It’s a nasty political fight and no place for a kid.”

  “Mom, are you telling me to butt out?”

  “What are your plans, Theo?”

  “I have no plans.” Theo took a bite of Cheerios and crunched as loudly as possible. “Do you know a man by the name of Joe Ford?” he asked as he swallowed.

  “Yes, Mr. Ford has been a client of our firm for many years. Your father has done a lot of legal work for him. Why do you ask?”

  “There is a rumor that he has a secret deal to purchase two hundred acres at the spot where the bypass will intersect with Sweeney Road. So if the bypass gets approved and built, Mr. Ford, who I think is also known by his nickname of Fast Ford, will be in a good position to develop the land and make a fortune.”

  Mrs. Boone was frowning and nodding, not sure how to respond.

  Theo pressed on, “And there is another rumor, though I think it’s more of a fact than a rumor, that Mr. Ford was a big contributor to the governor’s last campaign. So it looks to me like Mr. Ford gives money to the governor, and the governor pushes the bypass so Mr. Ford can make even more money and then give some more back to the governor. Does this make sense, Mom?”

  “This would not surprise me.”

  “If it’s true, it sounds pretty sleazy, right Mom?”

  “It’s not illegal,” she said, rather lamely, in Theo’s opinion.

  “But can’t you agree that it sounds sleazy?”

  “Sort of, yes.”

  “Then why are we mixed up in it?”

  “We?”

  “Yes. Why does our law firm represent sleazy clients?”

  “Our law firm? Didn’t realize you were now a partner.”

  “It’s got my name on it,” Theo said, then flashed his mother a metallic smile.

  “Theo, we’ve had this discussion. Everyone has the right to a lawyer, and we, as lawyers, cannot always pick and choose our clients. Often our clients are wrong or they have done bad things, and that’s why they need us. A lawyer is not supposed to judge his or her client. We are supposed to help them.”

  “I’m not going to represent crooks,” Theo said, then took another spoonful.

  Her eyebrows pinched almost together and she said sternly, “Do not refer to Mr. Ford as a crook.”

  “I didn’t call him a crook,” Theo said, chomping. “I just said that when I’m a lawyer I’m not going to have crooks as clients.”

  Mrs. Boone took a deep breath and decided to let the conversation die. Theo was tired of it too. He and Judge finished eating in silence.

  * * *

  During homeroom, Mr. Mount pulled out the morning paper and passed it around. Theo was often amazed at how few of his classmates ever looked at a newspaper, and virtually none of the other fifteen boys had seen the story. A few had scanned it online. Judge’s beating and near-death experience had been a hot topic all week, and the class wanted the details from Animal Court. The front-page story and photo were inspected closely and discussed at length. Theo tried to downplay it all, but secretly thought it was way cool to be on the front page. Woody, seldom quiet, had his version of the trial, and, not surprisingly, it soon grew into something different from Theo’s.

  Woody’s parents had filed assault charges against Gino Gordon, the only one of the four still not in jail, and Woody couldn’t wait until his day in court. Hardie’s parents had filed trespassing charges, both in criminal and civil courts, so the three boys were in for a full year of legal adventures. Theo thought this was wonderful, as did Mr. Mount, and the ten minutes in homeroom were again consumed with chatter about the case and its issues.

  Hardie was in a different homeroom. He found Theo during the lunch break, and they had a grand time rehashing their great victory in Animal Court. The entire Quinn family was thrilled with the outcome and very proud of Theo for his role in it. They were also delighted that the kid on the front page with the bandaged dog had vowed to “. . . fight the bypass and the thugs who work for it.”

  “Did you really say that, Theo?” Hardie asked. The truth was, Theo wasn’t sure what he’d said. As the crowd left the courtroom and spilled into the narrow hallway, there was a crush of people and a lot of talking. Theo was sort of choked up and excited; he was also stunned to see the three men hauled away in handcuffs; and he was holding Judge and just wanted to get away. He caught a glimpse of someone with a camera, and he remembered the reporter asking him some questions as he walked up the stairs.

  But, it was also true that Theo really liked the quote, so he said, “Sure.”

  “That’s awesome, Theo.”

  Hardie wanted to stop by the law office after school and talk about the bypass, and Theo promised to be there, in his office, doing his homework.

  * * *

  That’s where he was at 4:00 p.m. when his father tapped on his door and said, “Follow me.” Theo knew from experience this was
a bad sign. His father rarely made the trek back through the storage files and cluttered rooms to Theo’s office, and he never said simply, “Follow me.”

  They walked to the large conference room, where his father closed all the doors, then pointed to a chair for Theo to sit in. He sat in one nearby, and by the time they were seated Theo knew bad news was on the way.

  Mr. Boone began, “Last week, I believe you met Mr. Joe Ford here in the office. He’s been a client of mine for many years. Unfortunately, that has now ended. I received a call from Mr. Ford this morning in which he informed me he was basically firing me as his lawyer. He doesn’t like the fact that my son is such a vocal opponent of the bypass. Mr. Ford is a long-time supporter of that project. Like a lot of people, he thinks it’s important for our community.”

  Theo wasn’t sure how to react. He felt lousy because his father got fired. He felt relieved Mr. Ford was gone. He thought it was an overreaction by Mr. Ford. He wanted to ask his father why he represented shady guys like Fast Ford. He decided to play it safe and said, “Sorry, Dad.”

  “Your mother tells me you think Mr. Ford is, shall we say, less than honest.”

  Thanks Mom. We can’t even have a chat over breakfast without you blabbing it all to Dad. “I barely met him, Dad, so I don’t know him. Is he less than honest?”

  Mr. Boone smiled and glanced away. Then he said, “I’ve never seen anything dishonest from Joe Ford. I will say that he knows how to play the system. He has a lot of money and powerful friends, and he’s accustomed to getting what he wants. He demands loyalty, and that’s why he’s looking for another lawyer right now.”

  Theo blurted, “He sounds like a crook to me.”

  “He’s not a crook, Theo, and you need to stop throwing around words like crooks and thugs, okay?”

  His father was right about this, so Theo said, “Yes, sir.”

  After a pause, his father asked, “Who told you about the two-hundred-acre purchase at Sweeney Road?”

  Ike had told him, but Theo knew better than to admit this. He crossed his arms over his chest, clenched his teeth, and said, “I promised not to tell.” This always worked since both parents knew the importance of keeping secrets.