The Activist (Theodore Boone 4)

then he glared at Sebastian, gritted his teeth, and said, “I’m in.”

“All right!” Sebastian said as he slapped him on the shoulder.

* * *

At precisely 7:00 p.m. on Thursday evening, the three Boones plus Judge sat down for dinner. As always, on Thursdays, it was a roasted chicken from a Turkish deli, served with hummus, pita bread, and, tonight, couscous.

It was not Theo’s favorite meal of the week. Judge, however, loved the chicken. He seemed to be improving by the hour, moving around more and sleeping less.

Mrs. Boone asked, “Theo, where did you get off to this afternoon?”

Theo anticipated this. Someone in the law firm usually noticed if he came and went, and that was usually Elsa. She could be on the phone with two lines holding, and chatting with a client at the front door, and reading e-mails on her screen, all at the same time, and still know precisely when Theo sneaked out the back door. He swallowed hard and said, “Hardie and I rode over to the Stratten Environmental Council.”

His mother was intrigued and said, “Oh really.”

His father frowned and said, “Why’d you go there?”

Theo said, “Hardie’s father was there and he wanted me to stop by. On a wall, they have this huge blowup of the photo of Judge and me leaving court last night.”

“So you’re the hero?” his mother asked.

“Sort of, along with Judge.”

“Did you meet Sebastian Ryan?” she asked.

“I did, a real nice guy. He wants Hardie and me to help organize a group of kids to oppose the bypass.”

Mrs. Boone was still smiling, and she was also watching Mr. Boone, as if she expected some harsh words. Theo wanted his mother around for this discussion.

Mr. Boone asked, “What sort of a group of kids?”

“Students at Jackson Elementary and also the soccer kids.” Theo took a big bite as if such involvement was no big deal.

“That’s a great idea, Theo,” she said. “How do you plan to do it?”

“We haven’t decided yet.”

“Why do you insist on getting involved in this mess, Theo?” Mr. Boone asked slowly and firmly.

Theo’s reply had been practiced a few times. He took a sip of water, cleared his throat, and said, “Because I think it’s wrong for the Quinns to lose a farm that’s been in the family for over a hundred years. It’s wrong for the state to take private property for unnecessary projects. It’s dangerous to build big roads next to schools and soccer parks, especially when no one has studied the pollution. It’s wrong for politicians to help their buddies make money on stuff like this. Lots of reasons, Dad.”

“And all good ones, I might add,” Mrs. Boone said quickly as she glared at her husband.

Theo wasn’t finished. “And most importantly, I’m ticked off at the men who hurt Judge. If you had been there when they tried to kill him, you might have a different attitude.”

“Don’t lecture me, son.”

“I’m not lecturing anyone.”

“He certainly is not,” Mrs. Boone said. The battle lines were clearly drawn. Two against one. Mr. Boone was in the process of losing badly. She went on, “I think it’s admirable that Theo wants to get involved in this fight. Most thirteen-year-olds could not care less.”

Go Mom!, Theo thought as he cut another piece of chicken. You got him on the ropes, go for the knockout. But a truce came over the conversation and the Boones ate in silence.

Finally, Theo asked, “Dad, is it okay if I do this?”

To which his mother quickly responded, “Of course it’s all right, Theo. You have some strong feelings about this, so go to work. Right, Woods?”

Woods Boone was in no position to argue, and he knew it. He surrendered with a weak, “I suppose.”

Chapter 20

After lunch on Friday, Theo and Hardie took advantage of a one-hour study hall and met in the library. The school’s Internet server was faster than their laptops, so they could save time by using the desktop models that were available to all students upon request. When they were properly logged in, and when the IT clerk disappeared, they quickly began searching for information. The soccer data was easier to retrieve than anything from the Stratten County School System.

The night before, after they had left the SEC offices (as full-blown activists), Hardie spent an hour on Facebook. He played for a team called Red United, affectionately known as RU, and RU had its own Facebook page. He searched other pages of other teams in the Under 14 division, and quickly put together a directory of about one hundred players, girls and boys. Tucked away in the library, Hardie roared through Facebook and added dozens of names to his list.

Theo hammered away at the school system. According to the official website, Jackson Elementary currently had 415 students in prekindergarten through fifth grades, but there was no listing of these students and certainly no information about them. There was a nice teachers’ directory with color photos and e-mail addresses and such, and Theo decided this could be a valuable place to start. The Parent Teacher Organization (PTO) had a separate website with a few names and contact information but little more.

For almost an hour, the two were lost in their rambling searches for the names of people—students, teachers, parents, administrators—anyone who might be contacted with whatever Theo and Hardie decided to use in their little campaign.

* * *

After school, Theo was bored and killing time around the office. He planned to meet April Finnemore at Guff’s Frozen Yogurt on Main Street at four o’clock, something they tried to do once a week. Her older siblings had fled an unhappy home, and April was often alone. Theo didn’t feel sorry for her because she didn’t want sympathy; plus, she was bright and funny and a gifted artist. He didn’t consider her to be a girlfriend, not in the romantic sense, just a good friend who happened to be a girl. Most of his pals did not understand how it was possible to have a friend who was a girl but not actually a girlfriend. Theo had grown weary of trying to explain this. It was complicated.

Vince, the paralegal who worked for Mrs. Boone, popped into Theo’s office and said, “Say, Theo, could you run these by the clerk’s office and file them before five p.m.?” As he asked this question, he tossed down a folder filled with documents. It was probably papers in one of the many divorce cases Mrs. Boone had at the moment.

Theo jumped to his feet and said, “Sure. I’ll go right now.”

“Thanks,” Vince said and disappeared.

There were few things Theo enjoyed more than a trip to the Stratten County Courthouse, and any excuse was good enough to make him hustle over there. He reached down, patted Judge on the head, explained he would be back shortly, then grabbed the folder and took off.

The courthouse was the largest building in town, and by far the most important. It had big, thick columns around the front entrance and long wide steps around them. Theo parked his bike at a rack and bounded up the steps. The main lobby was normally busy with lawyers, policemen, and clerks, but Theo knew from experience the place would be deserted late on a Friday afternoon. He’d heard his mother complain that it was impossible to find a judge after lunch on Friday, and he’d heard Ike tell stories of lawyers sneaking away to their favorite bars to recap another long hard week.

The lobby was deserted. Theo ran up two flights of stairs to the third floor, where Family Court was located. Inside, he found his favorite clerk of all, the young and gorgeous Jenny, the secret love of his life and a woman he would marry if she wasn’t already married and pregnant.

“Well, hello, Theo,” she said with a smile. Her soft blue eyes always twinkled when she smiled at Theo, and this always made him blush. He could feel his cheeks burning.

“Hi Jenny,” he said. “Need to file these.” He handed over the folder and she opened it.

“Great picture of you and Judge in the paper,” she said as she went about her job of sorting out the papers. Theo just stood on his side of the tall counter and star

ed at her. “Thanks,” he said.

“How’s Judge?”

“He’s doing great. Still banged up, but he’ll survive.”

“I hear those guys got out of jail this morning.”

“That’s right,” Theo said. “Their lawyer finally got an appeal posted and got ’em out, but they’re not finished. They’ll spend some time eventually.”

“I sure hope so,” she said, stamping the papers as she shuffled them about. “I’ll file these right away, Theo.”

“Thanks Jenny. See you later.” He should have turned around and started his exit, but, as always, Theo couldn’t help but stare just a bit too long.

“Bye Theo,” she said with yet another smile. “Take care of Judge.”

“I will.”

As Theo left the clerk’s office, he realized his heart rate had increased. This usually happened when he was around Jenny. On the way out, he peeked into Judge Henry Gantry’s courtroom, the largest and grandest of all, and was not surprised to see it dark and empty. He made his way down the stairs, looking at the massive oil paintings of dead judges. As he ambled through the main lobby, someone called out, “Hey Theo.” He turned around and saw a face that was vaguely familiar, that of a guy in his forties with shaggy hair and a beard and battered sneakers.

“Norris Flay, with the Gazette,” he said as he approached Theo. Flay was apparently one of those men who felt uneasy shaking hands with a thirteen-year-old kid, so he made no effort. He looked down, Theo looked up and said, “How you doing?”