“At least we’re not in class,” Theo shot back.
Ten more minutes passed. The painting dog gave way to an obese chef who built a pyramid out of mushrooms, then almost cried when it all tumbled down. Mrs. Gladwell walked in front of the television, shot a vicious look at Theo, and said, “Well, you need to get back to class.”
At that moment, Channel 28 cut in with a BREAKING NEWS graphic. A custodian hit the mute switch, and Mrs. Gladwell hurried out of the way. Theo exhaled and thanked God for miracles.
The Police Chief was behind a podium with a row of uniformed officers behind him. To the far right was Detective Slater in a coat and tie. Everyone looked exhausted. The chief read from a page of notes, and he gave the same information Ike had delivered to Theo about two hours earlier. They were waiting on DNA testing to confirm things, but they were almost certain the body pulled from the river was not that of April Finnemore. He went into some detail about the size and condition of the body, which they were working hard to identify, and he gave the impression they were making progress. As for April, they were following many leads. The reporters asked a lot of questions, and the chief did a lot of talking, but not much was said.
When the press conference was over, the eighth graders were relieved, but still worried. The police had no idea where April was, or who took her. Jack Leeper was still the prime suspect. At least she wasn’t dead, or if she was, they didn’t yet know it.
As they left the auditorium and returned to class, Theo reminded himself to be more cautious next time. He had just barely avoided being the biggest laughingstock in school.
During the lunch break, Theo, Woody, Chase, Aaron, and a few others ate sandwiches and talked about resuming their search after school. The weather, though, was threatening and heavy rain was predicted for the afternoon and into the night. As the days had dragged by, there were fewer and fewer among them who believed April was still in Strattenburg. Why, then, should they search the streets each afternoon if no one believed she would be found?
Theo was determined to continue, rain or not.
Chapter 13
Halfway through Chemistry, with rain and wind pounding the windows, Theo was trying to listen to Mr. Tubcheck when he was startled to hear his own name. It was Mrs. Gladwell again, over the intercom. “Mr. Tubcheck, is Theodore Boone in class?” she screeched, startling the boys and Mr. Tubcheck as well.
Theo’s heart stopped as he bolted straight up in his chair. Where else would I be at this moment? he thought.
“He is,” Mr. Tubcheck responded.
“Please send him to the office.”
As Theo walked slowly down the hall, he tried desperately to think of why he was needed in the principal’s office. It was almost 2:00 p.m. on Friday afternoon. The week was almost over, and what a miserable week it had been. Perhaps Mrs. Gladwell was still sore over the delayed press conference this morning, but Theo didn’t think so. That had turned out well. He had done nothing significantly wrong the entire week, violated no rules, offended no one, successfully completed most of his homework, and so on. He gave up. He really wasn’t that worried. Two years earlier, Mrs. Gladwell’s oldest daughter had gone through an unpleasant divorce, and Marcella Boone had been her lawyer.
Miss Gloria, the nosy receptionist, was on the phone and waved him toward the big office. Mrs. Gladwell
met him at the door and escorted him inside. “Theo, this is Anton,” she said as she closed the door. Anton was a skinny kid with extremely dark skin. She continued, “He’s in Miss Spence’s sixth-grade class.” Theo shook his hand and said, “Nice to meet you.”
Anton said nothing. His handshake was rather limp. Theo immediately thought the kid was in deep trouble and scared to death.
“Have a seat, Theo,” she said, and Theo fell into the chair next to Anton. “Anton is from Haiti, moved here several years ago, and lives with some relatives at the edge of town on Barkley Street, near the quarry.” Her eyes met Theo’s when she said the word quarry. It was not a better part of town. In fact, most of the people who lived there were low income or immigrants, legal and otherwise.
“His parents are working out of town, and Anton lives with his grandparents. Do you recognize this?” she asked as she handed Theo a sheet of paper. He studied it quickly, and said, “Oh boy.”
“Are you familiar with Animal Court, Theo?” she asked.
“Yes, I’ve been there several times. I rescued my dog from Animal Court.”
“Can you please explain what’s going on, for my benefit and Anton’s?”
“Sure. This is a Rule 3 Summons, issued by Judge Yeck from Animal Court. Says here that Pete was taken into custody yesterday by Animal Control.”
“They came to the house and got him,” Anton said. “Said he was under arrest. Pete was very upset.”
Theo was still scanning the summons. “Says here that Pete is an African gray parrot, age unknown.”
“He’s fifty years old. He’s been in my family for many years.”
Theo glanced at Anton and noticed his wet eyes.
“The hearing is today at 4:00 p.m. in Animal Court. Judge Yeck will hear the case and decide what to do with Pete. Do you know what Pete did wrong?”
“He scared some people,” Anton said. “That’s all I know.”
“Can you help, Theo?” Mrs. Gladwell asked.
“Sure,” Theo said, with some reluctance. Truthfully, though, Theo loved Animal Court because anyone, including a thirteen-year-old kid in the eighth grade, could represent himself or herself. Lawyers were not required in Animal Court, and Judge Yeck ran a very loose courtroom. Yeck was a misfit who’d been kicked out of several law firms, couldn’t handle a real job as a lawyer, and was not too happy to be the lowest-ranked judge in town. Most lawyers avoided “Kitty Court,” as it was known, because it was beneath their dignity.
“Thank you, Theo.”
“But I need to leave now,” he said, thinking quickly. “I need some time to prepare.”
“You’re dismissed,” she said.
At 4:00 p.m., Theo walked down the stairs to the basement level of the courthouse, and down a hallway past storage rooms until he came to a wooden door with ANIMAL COURT, JUDGE SERGIO YECK, stenciled in black at the top. He was nervous, but also excited. Where else could a thirteen-year-old argue a case and pretend to be a real lawyer? He was carrying a leather briefcase, one of Ike’s old ones. He opened the door.
Whatever Pete had done, he’d done a good job of it. Theo had never seen so many people in Animal Court. On the left side of the small courtroom, there was a group of women, all middle-aged, all wearing tight, brown riding britches and black leather boots up to their knees. They looked very unhappy. To the right, sitting as far away from the women as possible, were Anton and two elderly black people. All three appeared to be terrified. Theo eased over to them and said hello. Anton introduced his grandparents, with names that were foreign and impossible to understand the first time around. Their English was okay, but heavily accented. Anton said something to his grandmother. She looked at Theo and said, “You our lawyer?”
Theo couldn’t think of anything else to say but, “Yes.”
She started crying.
A door opened and Judge Yeck appeared from somewhere in the rear. He stepped up to the long bench and sat down. As usual, he was wearing jeans, cowboy boots, no tie, and a battered sports coat. No black robe was needed in Kitty Court. He picked up a sheet of paper and glanced around the room. Few of the cases on his docket attracted attention. Most involved people whose dogs and cats had been picked up by Animal Control. So, when a little controversy came his way, he enjoyed the moment.
He cleared his throat loudly and said, “I see here that we have a case involving Pete the Parrot. His owners are Mr. and Mrs. Regnier.” He looked at the Haitians for confirmation. Theo said, “Your Honor, I’m with the, uh, the owners.”
“Well, hello, Theo. How are you doing these days?”
“Fine, Judge, thanks.”
“I haven’t seen you in a month or so.”
“Yes, sir, I’ve been busy. You know, classes and all.”
“How are your folks?”
“Fine, just fine.”
Theo had first appeared in Animal Court two years earlier when he made a last-minute plea to save the life of a mutt no one wanted. He took the dog home and named him Judge.
“Please come forward,” Judge Yeck said, and Theo led the three Regniers through the small gate to a table on the right. When they were seated, the judge said, “The complaint was filed by Kate Spangler and Judy Cross, owners of SC Stables.”
A well-dressed young man popped up and announced, “Yes, Your Honor, I represent Ms. Spangler and Ms. Cross.”
“And who are you?”
“I’m Kevin Blaze, Your Honor, with the Macklin firm.” Blaze sort of strutted up to the bench, shiny new briefcase in hand, and placed one of his business cards in front of the judge. The Macklin firm was a group of about twenty lawyers and had been around for years. Theo had never heard of Mr. Blaze. Evidently, Judge Yeck had not either. It was apparent, at least to Theo, that the young lawyer’s abundance of self-confidence was not appreciated.