Theodore Boone: Kid Lawyer (14 page)

Chapter 19

A
fter golf, Theo and his father stopped by the Highland Street Shelter to check on Julio and his younger brother and sister. Carola Pena washed dishes in the kitchen of a downtown hotel and worked every Saturday, which meant her three children were left at the shelter. There were games and activities for the children who lived there, but Theo knew that Saturdays were not that pleasant. They watched a lot of television, played kick ball on the small playground, and, if lucky, rode a church bus to a cinema if a supervisor could find the money.

While Theo and his father were playing golf, they had an idea. Stratten College was a small private school that had been founded in the town a hundred years earlier. Its football and basketball teams couldn’t compete with a decent high school, but its baseball team was a Division III powerhouse. There was a doubleheader at 2:00 p.m.

Mr. Boone checked in with the supervisor at the shelter. Not surprisingly, Julio, who was in charge of the twins, Hector and Rita, jumped at the chance to leave the shelter. The three practically ran to the SUV and jumped into the rear seat. Minutes later, Mr. Boone stopped at the hotel, parked illegally at the curb, and said, “I’ll run and tell Mrs. Pena what we’re doing.” He was back in an instant, all smiles, and reported, “Your mother thinks it’s a great idea.”

“Thank you, Mr. Boone,” Julio said. The twins were too excited to speak.

Stratten College played its games at Rotary Park, a wonderful old stadium on the edge of the town’s center, near the small campus. Rotary Park was almost as old as the college and in years past had been the home to several minor league teams, none of which stayed very long. Its claim to fame was that a Hall of Famer, Ducky Medwick, had played one season there in 1920 with a Double A team before moving on to the Cardinals. There was a plaque near the front gate reminding fans of Ducky’s brief stint in Strattenburg, but Theo had never seen anyone reading it.

Mr. Boone bought the tickets at a booth with only one window. The same old man had been working there since Ducky passed through. Three dollars for an adult, a dollar each for the kids. “How about some popcorn?” Mr. Boone asked as he looked down at the glowing faces of Hector and Rita. Five bags of popcorn, five sodas, twenty bucks. They walked up a ramp and into the bleachers, just down from the home dugout near first base. There were a lot of seats and few fans, and the ushers didn’t care where they sat. The ballpark could hold two thousand, and the old-timers liked to brag about how big the crowds used to be. Theo watched five or six Stratten College games each season and had never seen the stadium even remotely close to half full. He loved the place, though, with its old-fashioned grandstand, overhanging roof, wooden bleachers close to the field, bull pens next to the foul lines, and an outfield wall covered with brightly painted ads for everything in Strattenburg from pest control to a local beer to lawyers in need of injured clients. A real ballpark.

There were those who wanted to tear it down. It was practically empty in the summertime, after the college season ended, and there were gripes about how much it cost for upkeep. This puzzled Theo because, looking around, it was hard to pinpoint exactly where any “upkeep” money was spent.

They stood for the national anthem, then Stratten College took the field. The four kids sat close together while Mr. Boone sat on the row behind them, listening. “All right,” said Theo, the boss. “Nothing but English, okay? We’re working on our English.”

The Pena children naturally slid back into Spanish when chatting among themselves, but they instantly obeyed Theo and switched to English. Hector and Rita were eight years old and knew little about baseball. Theo began explaining.

Mrs. Boone and Ike arrived in the third inning and sat with Mr. Boone, who had eased away from the children. Theo tried to listen as they whispered among themselves. Ike had found an apartment, with rent of five hundred dollars a month. Mrs. Boone had not yet discussed the matter with Carola Pena because she was working at the hotel. They talked about other matters, but Theo couldn’t catch it all.

Baseball can be boring for eight-year-olds who don’t understand it, and by the fifth inning Hector and Rita were tossing popcorn and crawling around the bleachers. Mrs. Boone asked them if they wanted ice cream, and they jumped at the offer. When they left, Theo made his move. He asked Julio if he wanted to see the game from the center field bleachers. He said yes, and they drifted along the grandstand, past the bull pen, and eventually settled into an old section of seating just over the right center field wall. They were alone.

“I like the view from out here,” Theo said. “Plus, it’s always empty.”

“I like it, too,” Julio said.

They talked about the center fielder for a moment, then Theo changed subjects. “Look, Julio, we need to talk about your cousin. I can’t remember his name. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever known his name.”

“Bobby.”

“Bobby?”

“It’s really Roberto, but he likes to go by Bobby.”

“Okay. Is his last name Pena?”

“No. His mother and my mother are sisters. His last name is Escobar.”

“Bobby Escobar.”

“
Sí
. Yes.”

“Does he still work at the golf course?”

“Yes.”

“And he still lives by the Quarry?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“He’s a very important person right now, Julio. He needs to come forward and tell the police everything he saw the day the woman was murdered.”

Julio turned and looked at Theo as if he’d lost his mind. “He can’t do that.”

“Maybe he can. What if he could be promised protection? No arrest. No jail. Do you know what the word
immunity
means?”

“No.”

“Well, in legal terms, it means he might be able to cut a deal with the police. If he comes forward and testifies, then the police won’t bother him. He’ll be immune. There may even be a way for him to get legal papers.”

“Have you talked to the police?”

“No way, Julio.”

“Have you told anyone?”

“I have protected his identity. He is safe, Julio. But I need to talk to him.”

A player for the other team hit a ball that bounced off the right field wall. They watched him slide into third for a triple. Theo had to explain the difference between the ball going over the wall and one bouncing against it. Julio said there wasn’t much baseball in El Salvador. Mainly soccer.

“When will you see Bobby again?” Theo asked.

“Tomorrow, maybe. He usually comes to the shelter on Sunday and we walk to church.”

“Is there any way I can talk to him tonight?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what he’s doing all the time.”

“Julio, time is crucial here.”

“What’s
crucial
?”

“Very important. The trial will be over on Monday. It’s important for Bobby to come forward and tell what he saw.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Julio, both of my parents are lawyers. You know them. They can be trusted. What if they were able to find an apartment for you and your family, including Bobby, a nice place just for you guys, and, at the same time, my parents take steps to sponsor Bobby so he can become legal? Think about it. No more hiding from the police. No more worrying about raids from the immigration people. You guys can all live together and Bobby will have papers. Wouldn’t that be cool?”

Julio was staring into space, soaking it in. “That’d be awesome, Theo.”

“Then here’s what we do. First, you say it’s okay to involve my parents. They’ll be on your side. They’re lawyers.”

“Okay.”

“Great. Next, you gotta see Bobby and convince him that this is a good deal. Convince him we can be trusted. Can you do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Has he told your mother about what he saw?”

“Yes. She’s like a mother to Bobby.”

“Good. Get your mother to talk to him, too. She can convince him.”

“You promise he won’t go to jail?”

“I promise.”

“But he has to talk to the police?”

“Maybe not the police, but he has to talk to someone involved with the trial. Maybe the judge. I don’t know. But it’s crucial for Bobby to come forward. He’s the most important witness in this murder trial.”

Julio placed his head in both hands, elbows on knees. His shoulders slumped under the weight of Theo’s words and plans. For a long time nothing was said. Theo watched Hector and Rita in the distance, sitting with his mother and chatting away with their ice cream. Woods and Ike were deep in conversation, a rarity for them. The game dragged on.

“What do I do now?” Julio asked.

“Talk to your mother. Then both of you talk to Bobby. We should all get together.”

“Okay.”

Chapter 20

T
heo was in the den watching a movie on cable when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. It was eight thirty-five, Saturday night, and the call was coming from the shelter. He flipped the phone open, said, “Hello.”

Julio’s unmistakable voice said, “Theo?”

“Yes, Julio, what’s up?” Theo muted the television. His father was in the study reading a novel and his mother was upstairs in bed, sipping green tea and reading through a pile of legal documents.

“I’ve talked to Bobby,” Julio said, “and boy is he scared. The police were all over the Quarry today, checking papers, looking for trouble. They took in two boys from Guatemala, both illegal. Bobby thinks they’re after him.”

Theo walked to the study as he spoke. “Listen, Julio, if the police are after Bobby it has nothing to do with the murder trial. I can promise you that.” Theo stood next to his father, who closed his book and listened closely.

“They went to his house, but he was hiding down the street.”

“Did you talk to him, Julio? Did you tell him what we discussed today at the game?”

“Yes.”

“And what did he say?”

“He’s too scared right now, Theo. He doesn’t understand how things work here. When he sees a policeman, he thinks bad things. You know? He thinks about going to jail, losing his job, his money, getting sent back home.”

“Julio, listen to me,” Theo said, frowning at his father. “He will not have to deal with the police. If he’ll just trust me and my parents, he’ll be safer. Did you explain this?”

“Yes.”

“Does he understand it?”

“I don’t know, Theo. But he wants to talk to you.”

“Great. I’ll talk to him.” Theo nodded at his father and his father nodded back. “When and where?”

“Well, he’s moving around tonight, not staying at his place. He’s afraid the police might come back in the middle of the night and arrest them. But I can reach him.”

Theo almost asked How? but let it go. “I think we should talk tonight,” Theo said. His father nodded again.

“Okay. What do I tell him?”

“Tell him to meet me somewhere.”

“Where?”

Theo couldn’t think of a place fast enough. His father was a step ahead. He whispered, “Truman Park, by the carousel.”

Theo said, “How about Truman Park?”

“Where’s that?”

“It’s the big park at the end of Main Street where they have the water fountains and statues and stuff like that. Anybody can find Truman Park.”

“Okay.”

“Tell him to be there at nine thirty, in about an hour. Meet us by the carousel.”

“What’s a carousel?”

“It’s a fancy merry-go-round with little fake ponies and loud music. It’s for small kids and their mothers.”

“I’ve seen it.”

“Good. Nine thirty.”

The carousel was still spinning slowly late on Saturday night. Its well-used speakers boomed out the notes of “It’s a Small World” as a few toddlers and their mothers clutched the poles that ran down the center of the red and yellow ponies. Nearby there was a booth selling cotton candy and lemonade. A gang of young teenagers loitered about, all smoking and trying to look tough.

Woods Boone surveyed the area and felt it was safe. “I’ll be waiting over there,” he said, pointing to a tall bronze statue of a forgotten war hero. “You won’t see me.”

“I’ll be fine,” Theo said. He wasn’t worried about safety. The park was well lit and well used.

Ten minutes later, Julio and Bobby Escobar eased from the shadows and saw Theo before he saw them. Bobby was very nervous and did not want to risk being seen by a policeman, so they walked to the other side of the park and found a spot on the steps of a gazebo. Theo couldn’t see his father but he was sure he was watching.

He asked Bobby if he had worked that day, then went on to say that he and his father had played the Creek Course. No, Bobby had not worked, but instead had spent the day dodging cops. This opened the door, and Theo went charging through. He explained, in English, that Bobby had the opportunity to make a big change. He could move beyond being an illegal alien to a sponsored immigrant going through the process of getting proper documentation.

Julio rendered in Spanish. Theo understood little of it.

He explained that his parents were offering the deal of a lifetime. A better place to live, with family, the chance of a better job, and the fast track to being a legal resident. No more hiding from the police. No more fears about getting shipped home.

Julio rendered in Spanish. Bobby listened with a stone face, no expression at all.

Getting nothing in return, Theo pressed on. It was important to keep talking. Bobby seemed to be on the verge of running away. “Explain to him that he is a very important witness in the murder trial,” Theo said to Julio. “And there is nothing wrong with going to court and telling everybody what he saw that day.”

Julio rendered. Bobby nodded. He’d heard this before. He said something, which Julio translated as, “He doesn’t want to get involved. This trial is not his problem.”

A police car stopped at the edge of the park, not close to the gazebo but certainly close enough to be seen. Bobby watched it fearfully, as if he’d finally been caught. He mumbled quickly to Julio, who shot something back.

“The police are not after Bobby,” Theo said. “Tell him to relax.”

Two policemen crawled out of the car and began walking toward the center of the park, to the carousel. “See,” Theo said. “The fat one is Ramsey Ross. All he does is write parking tickets. Don’t know the other one. They couldn’t care less about us.”

Julio explained this in Spanish and Bobby began breathing again.

“Where will he stay tonight?” Theo asked.

“I don’t know. He asked if he could sleep at the shelter, but there’s no room.”

“He can stay with us. We have an extra bedroom. You can come along, too. We’ll call it a slumber party. My dad will stop and get us a pizza. Let’s go.”

At midnight, the three boys were sprawled around the den, yelling at the TV screen as they played a video game. Pillows and quilts were strewn about. Two large pizza boxes lay in ruins. Judge was munching on a crust.

From time to time, Marcella and Woods Boone peeked in. They were amused to hear Theo plow ahead with his Spanish, always a beat or two behind Julio and Bobby, but determined to catch up.

They had wanted more children, but nature didn’t cooperate. And, at times, they had to admit that Theo was more than enough.