Theodore Boone: The Scandal (3 page)

T
he mood in the auditorium was somber early Tuesday morning as the entire eighth grade filed in. Ten perfect rows of seventeen desks each covered the floor, with four odd ones along the back wall. Each homeroom adviser showed his or her students to their places. Mr. Mount’s gang was in row two, and they sat in alphabetical order. Theo was third from the front, with Ricardo Alvarez and Edward Benton in front of him. To his right was a girl named Tess Carver; to his left was a girl whose first name was Lellie. He didn’t know her last name. There were 174 in all, and Theo knew most of them, but it was impossible to know everyone, especially the girls. The school was in its third year of an experiment that separated the eighth-grade boys and girls.

Theo nodded at Pete, who was four rows over and half the way back. He wondered if Pete was as tired as he was. Probably so. What a night. He himself was still rattled by what had happened. He couldn’t imagine the confused state of mind Pete was in.

The principal, Mrs. Gladwell, made a few opening remarks, boring standard stuff about trying to relax and trying to work efficiently. They would be on the clock, and it was important to finish each section, and so on. This had already been covered more than once. The tests would last for three hours, with only two short breaks, then lunch. They would then spend three hours each afternoon prepping for the next day’s tests. Friday afternoon seemed like a year away.

The teachers passed out the exams as quickly as possible. Theo had a knot in his stomach as he took his. When every student had an exam, Mr. Mount, the head proctor for the day, told them to begin. As the students began, their teachers fanned out through the auditorium in a display of force. The message was clear: Keep your eyes on your own exam.

The room was silent. The agony had begun.

During the lunch break, Theo ate hurriedly and went to find Pete. They walked the same path as the day before, along the edge of the playground and away from anyone else. Pete said he couldn’t go back to sleep after he got home, and he was too tired to think. He was blowing the exam and didn’t care. His mother had talked to the police, and they had assured her Mr. Holland would remain in jail for a few days, so at least they would be safe. “What’s a felony?” Pete asked.

“It’s a more serious crime. Misdemeanors are small crimes. Felonies are not. Why?”

“The police said he’s charged with a third-class felony called malicious destruction of property. I guess that means a lot of jail time, right?”

“Probably, but I doubt if he’ll get a long prison sentence. Just a few weeks in the county jail. Who knows?”

A divorce, a jail sentence, the loss of a job; it was a lot for a kid to comprehend. “Thanks for last night, Theo.”

“It was nothing.”

“My mom is supposed to see your mom this afternoon, I guess to talk about the divorce. I can’t believe this.”

“My mom is very good at finding ways to avoid divorce, Pete. She almost always gets the couple to agree to meet with a marriage counselor. Don’t give up yet.”

“Thanks, Theo.”

“And don’t give up on these tests either.”

“I’d like to run away right now.”

Me too, Theo wanted to say, but instead he played tough and said, “Can’t do that, Pete. You gotta buckle down and concentrate.”

“I’ll try.”

The final bell rang at 3:30, and Theo was on his bike within seconds and flying away from the school. At the office, he said a quick hello to Elsa, his mother, and Judge, and raced five blocks to the VFW building where Troop 1440 met on the first and third Tuesdays of each month. This was the second Tuesday and not an official meeting, but when the Major, their scoutmaster, called, you didn’t ask questions.

Theo was a few months away from the big prize: Eagle Scout. He had twenty merit badges, including all but one of those required, and the Major was pushing him hard. He expected all of his Scouts to become Eagles. Theo suspected the Major wanted to review his progress, something he liked to do privately when the troop wasn’t meeting. He parked his bike next to Woody’s and went inside. The Major was chatting with Cal, Woody, Hardie, and Mason, an eighth grader from East Middle School.

The boys gathered around their scoutmaster in folding chairs, and he said, “I understand this is a rough week for eighth graders, all that testing they put you through.”

“It’s awful,” Woody blurted.

Hardie said, “Four straight days of testing.”

The Major smiled and said, “Well, I have an idea. This troop has thirty-nine Scouts as of today and sixteen of those are in the eighth grade. I know you’re having a tough week so I have an idea for a little camping trip this weekend. It’s completely voluntary.”

The boys perked up. Nothing excited them like a weekend in the woods.

The Major continued: “There’s a new hike that’s been opened in the Sassaqua National Park, a forty-mile trail that requires two nights in the wild. You have to hike in with everything on your back—tent, sleeping bag, food, clothes, toilet paper. It has some tough spots, some cliffs and steep inclines, there’s a gorge and some caves. It runs along the Sassaqua River, in the most secluded part of the park, and the scenery is said to be spectacular. The plan is to take off Friday afternoon as soon as the tests are over. It’s about a two-hour drive, so we should get there well before dark. I think we can get five miles into the woods before we set up camp. Who’s in?”

The boys were almost too stunned to speak. The troop spent one weekend each month in the woods, and those adventures were not to be missed. This, though, was something even better. A small group of the best Scouts hiking with the Major and living out of their backpacks. They were all in!

Theo was beyond thrilled. Whatever was planned for his weekend would simply get shoved aside. Then Cal dropped his head and said, “Shoot. My grandmother is coming this weekend, and there’s no way I can leave town.”

“Sorry,” the Major said. “Woody, Hardie, and Theo—you guys call the other eighth graders and see who can go. We need to get this organized as quickly as possible.”

“What about the rest of the troop?” Theo asked.

“Well, I’ll promise the younger guys that this will become an annual hike, sort of a reward after the tests. For the older guys, I’ll find some way to make it up. I don’t foresee a problem.”

“Who cares about the older guys?” Woody said. “Let’s go.”

“Get it planned,” the Major ordered. “Use your checklists and don’t forget anything. You’ll be in the woods with no way out except on foot. Planning is crucial.”

Theo was required by family tradition to stop by his uncle Ike’s office every Monday afternoon for a visit. If Ike was in a good mood, the time was enjoyable. If Ike was in a bad mood, Theo didn’t stay very long. There was about a fifty-fifty split in Ike’s moods. He had once been a respected lawyer who specialized in tax matters. Now he kept the books for a few clients and didn’t make much money. He had once worked from a nice office over at Boone & Boone. Now he worked in a dump above a Greek deli and had no secretary. He once was married and had two children. Now he was divorced and the kids, now adults and Theo’s first cousins, never made it back to Strattenburg and had nothing to do with their father. According to Theo’s mother, Ike had once been quite stylish, with dark suits and fine silk ties. Now he wore faded jeans, sandals, and T-shirts, and he kept his long gray hair pulled tightly in a ponytail. As Theo was learning, the old version of Ike was far different from the one he knew.

And that was fine. Theo adored his uncle Ike, and the feeling was mutual.

Since Theo had spent Monday afternoon with the Holland family, he decided to stop by Ike’s on Tuesday after the quick and pleasant meeting with the Major. As always, Ike was at his desk, surrounded by piles of paperwork, with Bob Dylan playing softly on the stereo and a can of beer beside his phone. “Well, how’s my favorite nephew?” he asked, the same question every time.

Theo often wondered how and why adults got in the habit of asking the same questions over and over, but he knew there was no clear explanation. “I’m doing lousy, and I’m your only nephew.”

“Oh, that’s right. A full week of testing for robots. What a stupid idea. Back when I was a kid, teachers were allowed to teach, but now . . .” He held up his hands and said, “Sorry, I think we had this discussion last week.”

“We did. A drunk guy tried to break in our house last night,” Theo said with a smile. Before each visit he always tried to think of something interesting to tell Ike.

“Well, do tell,” Ike said as he sipped his beer.

With great enthusiasm, Theo told the story of the Holland family and Mr. Holland’s near-assault on the Boone household. He managed to make the event somewhat more frightening than it had really been, but he knew Ike appreciated a good story. Ike himself had said that he’d never heard a story he couldn’t improve with a little exaggeration.

Theo went on, “And Mom says they’ll keep him in jail for a few days and charge him with a felony.”

“What a creep, but he’s lucky the cops didn’t blow his head off.”

“Maybe so, Ike, and I know you don’t care much for policemen, but believe me it was a relief to see those blue lights last night.”

“I suppose so.”

“Anyway, my mom is trying to figure out how to protect the family. She thinks the guy needs some help with his drinking problem.”

“I’d say,” Ike said as he sipped more beer. According to a few things Theo had overheard, Ike had his own issues with drinking, and that was one reason his parents had little to do with him. That and the blowup of the law firm many years ago. The adults never talked about what happened, but Theo was determined to find out one day.

They talked some more. Theo said he had to go, since it was Tuesday and his family spent the evening at the homeless shelter.

B
y Thursday afternoon, the third day of testing, Theo’s brain was fried, and he didn’t care what happened with his scores. He left the school and rode his bike around town, trying to clear his head. At four, he met April at Guff’s Yogurt Shop for his usual double serving of chocolate covered with crushed Oreos. April, a person who tried to avoid doing anything the same way twice and was always exploring, ordered a single of mixed boysenberry and mango. She ate less than half of it and offered the rest to Theo, who took one bite and slid it back across the table. They talked about how awful the testing was going and how they couldn’t wait until Friday afternoon. They talked about the ninth grade. Theo was not looking forward to it at all. April was eager to move on and get out of middle school. She wanted the next few years to speed along so she could leave home. Theo thought that was so sad.

He eventually arrived at Boone & Boone, but with no homework to do he played video games in his office and got bored. Around five, his mother tapped on his door and asked him to step into the conference room. He said, “Sure, Mom, what’s up?”

“You’ll see,” she said. “Follow me.”

When he walked into the room he was startled to see Pete sitting at one end of the long table with his parents. Mr. Boone and Elsa were also seated. When Mrs. Boone and Theo sat down, she said, “Mr. Holland has something to say.”

He slowly stood up, though standing was not necessary. He was obviously troubled and nervous. He cleared his throat, looked at each of them, and began, “Look, I’m just gonna come right out and say this. I have a drinking problem, and tomorrow I’m going to an alcohol treatment place for thirty days. Mrs. Boone here has worked out a deal with the police, and if I stop drinking and stay sober, all the charges will be dismissed. I promise I’m going to do that.” His voice cracked, and he looked at Mrs. Holland, who was wiping tears from her cheeks. “I love my family and I’m not going to lose them. I promise.” His voice cracked again. The guy was really struggling, and Theo felt sorry for him. However, he couldn’t help but flash back to Monday night, or early Tuesday morning, the last time he had seen Mr. Holland, drunk and staggering around the front yard. What a change!

Theo glanced at Pete, who was also wiping his eyes.

Mr. Holland continued: “I want to apologize to all of you for what happened. I’m really embarrassed by it but just happy no one got hurt. I ask for your forgiveness.” Each of the three Boones nodded their forgiveness. “And I want to thank Mrs. Boone for taking control and helping us out of this mess. I promise nothing like this will happen again, and I promise to get help and protect my family.”

His hands were shaking and his eyes were moist. “Thank you,” he said, and sat down.

Mrs. Boone said, “Your apology is accepted, and I’m just happy to do my job.”

“Thank you,” he said. The three Hollands were now holding hands.

“We will help any way we can,” Mr. Boone said. The Hollands nodded awkwardly. The whole scene was awkward, and Theo had had enough. On the one hand, he felt sorry for Pete for having to suffer through his father’s craziness, but on the other hand he was relieved that there might just be a happy ending.

They eventually stood and said thanks again, then good-bye. On the front porch, Theo shook hands with Pete and wished him luck. The Hollands walked down the front sidewalk together and disappeared down the street.

Since Mrs. Boone was a busy lawyer, and since cooking was not one of her favorite activities, the Boones dined out most nights. Monday was always Italian food at Robilio’s. Tuesday they ate while volunteering at the homeless shelter. Wednesday was Chinese carryout, which was perhaps Theo’s favorite because they ate on trays in the den and watched television. It was Judge’s favorite too because he loved sweet-and-sour pork.

And Thursday meant roasted chicken at a small Turkish café. This Thursday, though, Theo really wasn’t in the mood for it. He had a busy night ahead of him as he needed to carefully arrange his hiking and camping supplies. Mrs. Boone had a six o’clock appointment and would be working late, so Theo convinced his dad to go see the Dragon Lady again and pick up some carry-out.

After dinner, Theo hurried upstairs to his bedroom and began laying out his equipment and supplies. For Christmas and birthdays he always asked for scouting and camping gear. As an only child, he realized he was lucky to have more stuff than most kids, though he was careful to never show it. He found his “Ultralight Backpacking Checklist” and started an inventory. The Major was a fanatic about lightweight and efficient packing and believed that no backpack should weigh over thirty pounds. He would weigh each one at the VFW tomorrow before they boarded the bus.

Theo’s backpack was a superlight, nylon contoured pack with padded straps, a hip belt, and eleven external pockets. It weighed three-and-a-half pounds. His tent was a quarter-dome one-person tent, also made of nylon and ultralight. It weighed three pounds and when erected would provide twenty square feet of floor area, more than enough room. His sleeping bag was an insulated, three-season bag that weighed two-and-a-half pounds and was fine for weather above thirty degrees. The weekend forecast was mild. The sleeping pad was a roll of foam that weighed ten ounces. The rain fly was nothing more than a sheet of plastic that weighed one pound, including hubbed poles.

The Major frowned on meals that had to be cooked because too many supplies were needed, so there was too much to carry. Instead, he favored ready-to-eat foods and energy bars. Theo had planned six meals: one for Friday dinner, three on Saturday, and breakfast and lunch on Sunday. With his allowance, he had purchased three packs of freeze-dried chicken and noodles, two packs of chili mac and cheese, two packs of breakfast waffles, and two packs of beef stroganoff with noodles. Just add hot water and the meals were ready to eat. He also had a dozen energy bars. It was probably a little too much, but it was also wise to have extra food. Out of the fifteen Scouts headed for the weekend, Theo knew that at least two would run out of food. His groceries weighed two-and-a-half pounds. His plastic cookset included a two-liter pot, two bowls, two mugs, a knife, fork, and spoon, all together weighing only one-and-a-half pounds.

Since they would be hiking a fixed trail, the Major said they would not have to worry about navigation. Theo looked at his checklist and crossed off the map, compass, and GPS. He also knew that the Major would carry a small GPS and a cell phone.

Back to the checklist: flashlight, batteries, lip balm, sunscreen, extra asthma inhaler, knife, first aid kit, water bottle, matches, fire starter, and toilet paper in a small waterproof container. His clothing consisted of what he would wear into the woods Friday afternoon, plus two shirts and one pair of pants, socks, underwear, a poncho for rain, a vest, and gloves. He had no plans to pack a toothbrush and toothpaste—what a waste of space! His hiking boots were waterproof, and since he was wearing them their weight didn’t count. Only the gear that went into his backpack was included in the Major’s thirty-pound limit.

With great care, Theo placed the gear and supplies into the backpack. As always, there wasn’t a square inch to spare, but it zipped up without too much trouble. He hauled it downstairs, showed it proudly to his parents, who were reading in the library, then asked them if he could use their bathroom scale. The backpack weighed thirty-two pounds, and Theo hauled it back upstairs, unpacked it, laid everything out on his bed, read the checklist again, and argued with himself about what to delete. He was deep in thought and mumbling a lot, and Judge looked at him curiously. He removed a shirt, a pair of socks, and two packs of food. He removed the rain fly because the forecast was for clear skies, plus he figured he could just stay in his tent in the event of a shower.

Back downstairs, he was headed for the scale again when his mother said, as only a mother can, “Teddy, dear, do you really think you’re going to be safe out there?”

His father said, “Come on, Marcella, we’ve already had this conversation.”

Theo knew his mother was not about to veto his weekend, that she was just going through the motions of being a concerned mother, but he politely said, “Sure, Mom. This is no big deal. We’re all experienced Scouts and you trust the Major, don’t you?”

“I suppose,” she said.

“He’ll be fine,” his father said. Theo suspected they were secretly planning a quiet weekend without him. He wouldn’t be missed.

The second weigh-in was at thirty-and-a-half pounds. Theo decided to leave things alone. Surely the Major would bend on half a pound.