The Lemonade Crime (4 page)

"You're what?" asked Scott.

"Here, take it," said Jessie, shoving the piece of paper closer to him. Scott reached out and grabbed it like he was going to rip it to shreds.

"That's it!" shouted Jessie. "You touched it. That means you've been served. Now you have to appear in court." Jessie was pretty sure she knew what she was doing. She had been reading a booklet called "Trial by Jury: The American Legal System in a Nutshell." It was one of the public service booklets that her mom wrote as part of her business as a public relations consultant.

Scott immediately dropped the paper on the ground like it was on fire. "You can't do that!"

"Oh, yes I can," said Jessie. "If you touch it, that means you've been served. You can't get out of it now."

"Get out of what? What are you even talking about?" By now, everyone in the line had turned to watch. Evan had stopped dribbling the basketball, but he didn't leave his spot in line.

Jessie picked up the arrest warrant from the ground and read it out loud. She had written it using the calligraphy pen her grandmother had given her for her last birthday.

She got as far as that when Scott interrupted.

"You gotta be kidding me," he said, crossing his arms and laughing. "You're joking, right?"

Jessie shook her head. Not a single person in the fourth-grade line was talking. Everyone was watching Jessie and Scott. She continued reading, "'If you are found guilty—'"

"Are you saying," said Scott, his eyes narrowing and a scowl appearing on his face, "that I stole money?"

Jessie took a deep breath. She knew it was a big deal to accuse someone like that.

"Yes, I am," she said. There were murmurs among the fourth-graders.

"What about
you?
" asked Scott, turning toward Evan and taking a few steps forward. He reached out to poke Evan in the chest, but Evan swatted his hand away before it ever touched him. "Are
you
saying I stole your money?"

Jessie looked at Evan. He dribbled the basketball twice, then held it in his hand, staring at it. Suddenly, Jesse realized that she should have talked to Evan before doing any of this. He was the one who'd been the victim of the crime. He was the one who would still have to play with Scott every day at recess. He was the one who would have to testify against him in a court of law.

But it was too late now. Everyone was watching them. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen next.

Evan dribbled the ball again. One, two, three. Jessie knew that he was thinking. Evan thought with his whole body, not just his brain.

"That's what I'm saying," he said quietly. "I'm saying you stole the money from me."

The line of fourth-graders had twisted into the shape of a large, sloppy C with both ends watching what was happening in the middle.

Now that Evan had accused Scott of stealing, the line started to fall apart entirely as kids pulled in close to hear what Scott would say next.

But it was Jessie who spoke first. "'If you are found guilty, your punishment will be that you have to give your new Xbox 20/20 to Evan Treski.'"

"No way!" said Scott, but he could barely be heard over all the noise that the fourth-graders were making. Everyone had an opinion about the fairness of the punishment.

"Hey," said Ryan. "What happens if he's found not guilty?"

Jessie shook her head. "He won't be."

"I will, too, you twerp!" said Scott. "And when I am, here's what's going to happen. Both of you"—he pointed at Jessie and Evan—"are going to stand up in Morning Meeting and tell everyone, including Mrs. Overton, that you told lies about me and that I didn't take anything from anyone. And then you're going to apologize to me. In front of
everyone.
"

"4–0!" Mrs. Overton was standing in the doorway, a look of dismay on her face. "What kind of a line is this?"

The kids scrambled back to their places, and those at the front started the morning march into the classroom. But Evan, Jessie, and Scott still faced each other.

"Is it a deal?" asked Scott.

"Deal," said Evan, and turned his back on them to head inside.

"I'll even put it in writing," said Jessie. She waved the arrest warrant in front of Scott. Then she picked up her backpack and hurried to the end of the line, smiling.

Soon, justice would be served.

impartial
(
),
adj.
Treating everyone the same; not taking sides in an argument; fair and just.

At recess, Jessie didn't waste any time. Evan watched as she pulled index cards, one by one, out of a big envelope. All the fourth-graders crowded around.

"You're the plaintiff," she said to Evan, and handed him a green index card that said
PLAINTIFF
on it. "That means you're the victim of the crime." Evan studied the card, then stuck it in his back pocket. A kids' court sounded like a crazy idea to him. A crazy Jessie idea. But he was used to those, and this one might get him a new Xbox 20/20, not to mention the satisfaction of proving Scott's guilt in front of everybody. For that, he was willing to give it a try.

"I'm Evan's lawyer," said Jessie, and she gave herself a purple index card that said
LAWYER FOR THE PLAINTIFF.

Then she turned to Scott. "You're the defendant, which means you're the one who's on trial." She gave him a yellow index card that said
DEFENDANT
on it.

Then she started to hand out five orange index cards.

"Hey!" shouted Scott. "Don't I get a lawyer?"

"Hold on! You'll get one in a minute," said Jessie sharply. She continued handing out cards.

"I want Ryan," said Scott.

"Sorry," said Ryan, holding up an orange card. "I'm a witness."

"Then I want Paul."

"He's a witness, too," said Jessie, handing Paul the last orange card. "Everyone who was at Jack's house on the day of the crime is a witness."

"Well, then who's going to be
my
lawyer?" asked Scott, crumpling his
DEFENDANT
card.

Jessie ignored his question. She held up a purple card. "Megan, you're on the jury," she said. Evan's heart jumped. There was one vote he could count on.

"When's the trial?" said Megan.

"After school," said Jessie. "On Friday."

Megan shook her head. "I think we're going away this weekend."

"You can't miss the trial!" said Jessie. Evan wanted to shout the same thing, but he kept his mouth shut.

"I'll talk to my mom," said Megan. "Maybe we can leave later. But you'd better give this card to somebody else." She handed the purple card back to Jessie.

"Oh, all right," said Jessie, sounding disappointed. "Take one of these." She handed Megan a white card that said
AUDIENCE
on it.

It only took Jessie another minute to hand out the twelve
JURY
cards and the rest of the
AUDIENCE
cards. All the audience members were girls because all the witnesses were boys and the jury, as Jessie explained to everyone, had to be fifty-fifty.

Evan looked around. It was weird, the way all the kids were going along with Jessie's idea. Didn't they know this was all fake? And how did Jesse know all this legal stuff? How did she always know things he didn't know?

Jessie rounded up the six girls who held white audience cards. Then she turned to Scott. "You can pick anybody from the audience to be your lawyer. Technically, we don't even need the audience. No offense," said Jessie, turning to the girls.

"I don't want a girl lawyer," said Scott.

"Suit yourself," said Jessie, shrugging. "But don't come back and complain you weren't offered legal counsel."

"A bunch of girls!" said Scott. "Some offer! I'll be my own lawyer. I'll defend myself." He turned to Jessie. "And I'll beat you at it, too!" he said. That was just like Scott, thought Evan. Always thinking he was the best. Always the kid who had the best stuff. Who took the best vacations. Who had everything.

"Good," said Jessie. "Defend yourself." There was just one more index card in her envelope. Evan watched as she pulled it out slowly. The card was red. It had one word on it.

Jessie looked around like she was making a very important decision, but Evan knew she'd already decided who would get that red card. Jessie never left anything until the last minute.

"The judge is going to be ... David Kirkorian."

There was dead silence.

Then Paul shouted out, "Are you kidding me?"

"He can't be a judge!" said Ryan. "He collects human bones!"

"I do not!" said David, turning bright red but stepping up to Jessie and taking the card out of her hand.

Then everyone started talking at once. David, meanwhile, held up the red card and shouted, "Ha, ha! I'm the judge! I'm the judge!" They made so much noise, the duty teacher came over to see what was going on with class 4–0. That quieted everyone down. Nobody wanted the duty teacher getting involved. One of the unspoken rules on the playground was
Never tell the duty teacher what's really going on.

"Why him?" asked Paul after the duty teacher walked away.

"Because he's the only one in the whole class who's
impartial
," said Jessie. "He's not friends with Evan or Scott. He'll be fair. He won't play favorites. And that's the most important thing about a judge. A judge has to treat everyone the same."

David held up the red card in one hand and placed the other one over his heart. "I solemnly swear that I'll be a fair judge," he said.

"Good," said Jessie.

But Evan couldn't believe it. Who was going to listen to a kid like David Kirkorian?

For Evan, the day went downhill from there. All afternoon in class, they worked on things that Evan hated: math fact drills, spelling rules, and writers' workshop. Then Mrs. Overton discovered that one of the jump ropes was missing from the 4–0 milk crate, and that was Evan's fault because he was Equipment Manager.

But the thing that really slam-dunked the day right into the garbage can, the thing that changed it from a crummy day into absolutely one of the top ten worst days of his life, happened after school.

Evan was strapping on his bike helmet when Adam walked up to him at the rack and pulled out his bike. "You want to come over?" asked Evan.

"Can't," said Adam. "I promised my mom I'd help her get the house ready for Yom Kippur."

"Is that today?" asked Evan, clicking the buckle under his chin.

"It starts Friday night, but my mom wants me to clean up my room today and do some other stuff, too."

Evan knew that Yom Kippur is a holiday where the grownups don't eat all day. It was supposed to help them think about their sins, but Evan couldn't figure that out. When he was hungry, he couldn't think about anything except what he was going to eat next.

"You want to come to the break-fast party?" asked Adam. The Goldbergs always ate a big meal at sunset when the holiday fast was over.

"Sure," said Evan. He'd been to lots of Friday night dinners at Adam's and Paul's houses. He liked the candles and even the prayers he didn't understand, but mostly he liked the food: challah bread, roasted chicken, and applesauce cake.

"Are you going to go the whole day without eating this year?" asked Evan. Last year, Adam had bragged that he was going to fast next year for Yom Kippur.

Adam shrugged. "I might try." Then he looked down at his bike and bounced the front wheel a couple of times on the hard blacktop. "Look. Uh. There's something I've been meaning to say to you. You remember how over the summer, Paul and Kevin and me, we ditched you in the woods that time?"

"Yeah," said Evan, wondering why Adam was bringing up something that had happened months ago. Evan had been really mad back then, but now it was over.

"Well, I'm really sorry. And I hope you'll forgive me." Evan looked confused. Adam shrugged. "Dude. It's Yom Kippur. The Day of Atonement. You have to go around and ask people to forgive your sins."