Theo retreated to his office, with his dog, and unpacked his backpack. Homework was out of the question. He opened his laptop, found Garth’s Facebook page, and quickly learned that the kid was out of jail and laughing about his arrest.
Theo fumed some more as the minutes dragged by. Four o’clock came and went without a word. He eased to the front and hid in the large conference room, waiting for his mother’s door to open. When it finally did, a well-dressed woman stepped out, wiping her eyes, and left without a word. Theo rushed in and said, “Mom, Woody got arrested last night and he’s still in jail. You gotta go help him.”
Mrs. Boone calmly closed the door and pointed to a leather sofa. Theo sat down and took a deep breath. Of all the many things he admired about his mother, her coolness under pressure was the most impressive. Marcella Boone was never rattled. She spent long hours every day dealing with extremely anxious clients, and demanding judges, and tough lawyers on the other side, and she rarely lost her cool. And, when her only child was troubled, she found the time to listen.
Theo told her everything he knew about Woody’s big adventure. She, too, was stunned and worried about him and Tony. “You’ve been concerned about Woody,” she said.
“Sure, and things are worse now. Why can’t you go over to Youth Court and ask Judge Pendergrast to set bail. You know him, don’t you?”
“Of course I do, Theo, but I don’t represent Woody. As you know, I don’t handle criminal matters.”
“He’s not a criminal, Mom.”
“No, he is not, but he’s in the middle of a criminal mess, and for the time being he will be processed through Youth Court.”
“Look, Mom, it’s not unusual for one lawyer to handle one hearing and then another take over the case for the later stuff, right?”
“I suppose,” she said, but she knew he was right.
“Then let’s go see Judge Pendergrast, ask him to set bail, as low as possible, and get Woody out. Then tomorrow or the next day the public defender will take over and defend Woody.”
Mrs. Boone glanced away, and Theo knew he was onto something. She stood, walked to her desk, picked up the phone, punched some numbers. Looking at Theo, she said, “Yes, this is Marcella Boone, attorney, and I’m looking for Judge Pendergrast. I need to speak to him.”
She listened, glanced at her watch, and asked, “What time will he be in tomorrow?”
She listened, nodded, said, “Please ask him to call me in the morning.”
She hung up and said, “He’s gone for the day.”
Theo said, “It’s barely four thirty. How can the guy leave so early? That means Woody and Tony have to spend another night in jail. This is ridiculous.”
“Judges have heavy dockets, and then some days are lighter. If there’s nothing to do, they often leave a bit early. Judge Pendergrast is a hard worker.”
Theo dropped his head and shoulders and gave up. Elsa tapped on the door as she opened it and said, “Your four thirty appointment is here.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Boone said. “We’ll discuss this later, Theo. Now go do your homework.”
Dinner was a soggy sandwich on stale white bread, a banana, a thin marshmallow pie, and a carton of warm apple juice. Woody and Tony devoured it while complaining to each other about it, but they were hungry. Lunch had been a cold pasta concoction they’d had trouble choking down. Breakfast was hours away.
A television hung from the ceiling at the end of the hallway, but they could not see it. Not that they really wanted to. Game shows were at full volume and the noise was oddly comforting. The noise reminded them that life somewhere was normal.
The hours passed slowly. The television was turned off. A guard walked through and announced that lights would go out in thirty minutes. Two more guards appeared with a new prisoner, an older boy who looked well beyond eighteen years. They stopped at the door, unlocked it, and shoved him inside with Tony and Woody. The cell had two bunk beds, no more.
When the guards left, the new guy said, “I’m Jock, and you’re?”
“I’m Tony. This is my kid brother, Woody.” There was no effort to shake hands. Jock had the look of a kid with an attitude, a tough dude who’d seen several jails from the inside. He looked at the bunks and said, “I’ll take the top one, if that’s okay?”
“That’s mine,” Woody said. “First come, first served.”
“Oh really? And who’s making the rules around here?”
“The guards,” Tony said.
“Don’t see any guards right now. Look, I’ll make this real simple for you two brothers. If you want to start some crap, let’s get it over with. I’ll take on the two of you right now, and I promise you that within thirty seconds you’ll both be on the floor, spitting blood and missing teeth. Is that what you want?” He suddenly shoved Tony hard and he banged into a concrete wall.
There was little doubt that Jock had been in many more street fights than the Lambert boys. He was lean and hard, with thick arms, one of which had a tattoo on it. He also reeked of alcohol, and his eyes were red and sort of crazed looking.
Tony showed him both palms and said, “Fighting won’t solve any problems around here.”
“Smart boy,” Jock said. He stepped onto the bottom bunk and vaulted onto the top one where he stretched out and closed his eyes.
Tony and Woody looked at each other and shrugged in defeat. Losing a bunk was better than losing some teeth, and Jock seemed eager to throw punches. They settled down into the bottom bunk, Tony on one end, Woody on the other, and tried to make themselves comfortable.
It would be a long night.
Theo didn’t sleep much either. He dozed off from time to time but could not stop thinking about Woody behind bars. At midnight, he suddenly thought of something else that bothered him. He went online, checked the local newspaper, and saw a one paragraph story about the armed robbery. An eighteen-year-old named Garth Tucker had been arrested for robbing Kall’s Grocery, a convenience store on the western edge of town. Two minors were also involved, but their names were withheld, as was the custom. Tucker was “free on bond.”
So, the stupid kid who’d pulled the gun was resting comfortably at home with his family while Woody and Tony were still locked up. What was fair about that? As he stewed and mumbled to himself, Theo found Garth’s Facebook page and saw a staged photo of him holding his wrists together with what appeared to be handcuffs. Beside the photo Garth wrote: “Jail ain’t so bad but the food’s lousy. It’s all a big misunderstanding and will soon be cleared up, according to my lawyer.”
Theo turned off his laptop and tried to close his eyes. He eventually drifted off, woke up again, went to the bathroom, spoke to Judge under his bed, and tried to go back to sleep. At sunrise, he showered and dressed quickly and hustled downstairs.
He was at the kitchen table pretending to review his homework when his father appeared. Every morning, Mr. Boone rose early, made the coffee, and left to have breakfast with his friends at a downtown diner. When he saw Theo he said, “Well, good morning.”
Theo did not respond. He was angry with his parents and they had argued over last night’s dinner. As always, they had busy plans for the morning and neither wanted to get involved with Woody’s case. Theo did not understand why they, or at least one of them, could not go to Youth Court and insist that Woody and Tony be released immediately. They had tried to explain that they were not criminal lawyers and did not work in Youth Court, but Theo didn’t buy it.
If Theo wasn’t speaking, then neither was Mr. Boone. He made the coffee, fetched the newspaper out of the driveway, found his briefcase, which he brought home every night but rarely touched, poured a cup, and left without a word.
Theo fumed and watched the clock. There were clocks in every room of their home, clear proof that they were busy people with organized lives. Normally, Mrs. Boone skipped breakfast and instead sipped coffee in the den while flipping through the newspaper. But she was running late. Theo could hear her moving about upst
airs. He waited. Judge began whimpering because he wanted breakfast, so Theo fixed him a bowl of cereal with milk, the same meal Theo had every morning.
At eight, Mrs. Boone appeared dressed for work. She wore a pretty maroon dress, black heels, and jewelry. One look and Theo knew she was ready for court. She always dressed fashionably, but there were times when she looked a bit sharper. She poured a cup of coffee and sat across the table from Theo. She said, “I’ll meet you in Youth Court at nine. You call Daisy Lambert and I’ll call Mrs. Gladwell and tell her what’s going on.”
Theo exhaled, smiled, and said, “Thanks, Mom.” He hurriedly grabbed the bowls and put them in the sink. He rubbed Judge’s head, said good-bye, and sprinted from the kitchen with his backpack.
The small courtroom was filled with people when Judge Pendergrast assumed the bench and said good morning. For the second straight morning, he looked exhausted with dark circles under his eyes and fatigue all over his face. He even yawned as he glanced around the courtroom.
An important hearing was scheduled for nine o’clock and Theo was worried that the Lambert boys would be ignored until later. However, his mother had made a phone call and chatted with the judge.
He peered over his reading glasses and said, “Mrs. Boone, I believe you have a matter before the Court.”
Marcella Boone stood and everybody looked at her. Theo had seen her in court on several occasions, though she would not allow him to sit through her divorce trials. The testimony was often too rough for a thirteen-year-old. He admired her greatly and knew she could handle herself in front of any judge.
“Yes, Your Honor, thank you, and I would like to enter an appearance as the attorney of record for the sole purpose of getting bail set for Tony and Woody Lambert.”
“So you’re their lawyer?”
“Sort of. I know the family and I’m just pinch-hitting until the public defender’s office can take over.”
“Where is the public defender?”