by John Grisham
Miss Gloria, the nosy receptionist, was on the phone and waved him toward the big office. Mrs. Gladwell met him at the door and escorted him inside. “Theo, this is Anton,” she said as she closed the door. Anton was a skinny kid with extremely dark skin. She continued, “He’s in Miss Spence’s sixth-grade class.” Theo shook his hand and said, “Nice to meet you.”
Anton said nothing. His handshake was rather limp. Theo immediately thought the kid was in deep trouble and scared to death.
“Have a seat, Theo,” she said, and Theo fell into the chair next to Anton. “Anton is from Haiti, moved here several years ago, and lives with some relatives at the edge of town on Barkley Street, near the quarry.” Her eyes met Theo’s when she said the word quarry. It was not a better part of town. In fact, most of the people who lived there were low income or immigrants, legal and otherwise.
“His parents are working out of town, and Anton lives with his grandparents. Do you recognize this?” she asked as she handed Theo a sheet of paper. He studied it quickly, and said, “Oh boy.”
“Are you familiar with Animal Court, Theo?” she asked.
“Yes, I’ve been there several times. I rescued my dog from Animal Court.”
“Can you please explain what’s going on, for my benefit and Anton’s?”
“Sure. This is a Rule 3 Summons, issued by Judge Yeck from Animal Court. Says here that Pete was taken into custody yesterday by Animal Control.”
“They came to the house and got him,” Anton said. “Said he was under arrest. Pete was very upset.”
Theo was still scanning the summons. “Says here that Pete is an African gray parrot, age unknown.”
“He’s fifty years old. He’s been in my family for many years.”
Theo glanced at Anton and noticed his wet eyes.
“The hearing is today at 4:00 p.m. in Animal Court. Judge Yeck will hear the case and decide what to do with Pete. Do you know what Pete did wrong?”
“He scared some people,” Anton said. “That’s all I know.”
“Can you help, Theo?” Mrs. Gladwell asked.
“Sure,” Theo said, with some reluctance. Truthfully, though, Theo loved Animal Court because anyone, including a thirteen-year-old kid in the eighth grade, could represent himself or herself. Lawyers were not required in Animal Court, and Judge Yeck ran a very loose courtroom. Yeck was a misfit who’d been kicked out of several law firms, couldn’t handle a real job as a lawyer, and was not too happy to be the lowest-ranked judge in town. Most lawyers avoided “Kitty Court,” as it was known, because it was beneath their dignity.
“Thank you, Theo.”
“But I need to leave now,” he said, thinking quickly. “I need some time to prepare.”
“You’re dismissed,” she said.
At 4:00 p.m., Theo walked down the stairs to the basement level of the courthouse, and down a hallway past storage rooms until he came to a wooden door with ANIMAL COURT, JUDGE SERGIO YECK, stenciled in black at the top. He was nervous, but also excited. Where else could a thirteen-year-old argue a case and pretend to be a real lawyer? He was carrying a leather briefcase, one of Ike’s old ones. He opened the door.
Whatever Pete had done, he’d done a good job of it. Theo had never seen so many people in Animal Court. On the left side of the small courtroom, there was a group of women, all middle-aged, all wearing tight, brown riding britches and black leather boots up to their knees. They looked very unhappy. To the right, sitting as far away from the women as possible, were Anton and two elderly black people. All three appeared to be terrified. Theo eased over to them and said hello. Anton introduced his grandparents, with names that were foreign and impossible to understand the first time around. Their English was okay, but heavily accented. Anton said something to his grandmother. She looked at Theo and said, “You our lawyer?”
Theo couldn’t think of anything else to say but, “Yes.”
She started crying.
A door opened and Judge Yeck appeared from somewhere in the rear. He stepped up to the long bench and sat down. As usual, he was wearing jeans, cowboy boots, no tie, and a battered sports coat. No black robe was needed in Kitty Court. He picked up a sheet of paper and glanced around the room. Few of the cases on his docket attracted attention. Most involved people whose dogs and cats had been picked up by Animal Control. So, when a little controversy came his way, he enjoyed the moment.
He cleared his throat loudly and said, “I see here that we have a case involving Pete the Parrot. His owners are Mr. and Mrs. Regnier.” He looked at the Haitians for confirmation. Theo said, “Your Honor, I’m with the, uh, the owners.”
“Well, hello, Theo. How are you doing these days?”
“Fine, Judge, thanks.”
“I haven’t seen you in a month or so.”
“Yes, sir, I’ve been busy. You know, classes and all.”
“How are your folks?”
“Fine, just fine.”
Theo had first appeared in Animal Court two years earlier when he made a last-minute plea to save the life of a mutt no one wanted. He took the dog home and named him Judge.
“Please come forward,” Judge Yeck said, and Theo led the three Regniers through the small gate to a table on the right. When they were seated, the judge said, “The complaint was filed by Kate Spangler and Judy Cross, owners of SC Stables.”
A well-dressed young man popped up and announced, “Yes, Your Honor, I represent Ms. Spangler and Ms. Cross.”
“And who are you?”
“I’m Kevin Blaze, Your Honor, with the Macklin firm.” Blaze sort of strutted up to the bench, shiny new briefcase in hand, and placed one of his business cards in front of the judge. The Macklin firm was a group of about twenty lawyers and had been around for years. Theo had never heard of Mr. Blaze. Evidently, Judge Yeck had not either. It was apparent, at least to Theo, that the young lawyer’s abundance of self-confidence was not appreciated.
Theo suddenly had a sharp pain in his midsection. His opponent was a real lawyer!
Blaze got his clients, the two women, properly seated at the table on the left side of the courtroom, and when everyone was in place, Judge Yeck said, “Say, Theo, you don’t happen to own any part of this parrot do you?”
“No, sir.”
“Then why are you here?”
Theo stayed in his chair. In Animal Court, all formalities were dispensed with. The lawyers remained seated. There was no witness stand, no sworn oaths to tell the truth, no rules of evidence, and certainly no jury. Judge Yeck conducted quick hearings and ruled on the spot, and in spite of his dead-end job, he was known to be fair.
“Well, uh,” Theo began badly. “You see, Your Honor, Anton goes to my school, and his family is from Haiti, and they don’t understand our system.”
“Who does?” Yeck mumbled.
“And I guess I’m here as a favor to a friend.”
“I get that, Theo, but normally the owner of the pet shows up to argue his or her case or they hire a lawyer. You’re not the owner, and you’re not a lawyer, yet.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kevin Blaze jumped to his feet and said sharply, “I object to his presence here, Your Honor.”
Judge Yeck slowly turned his attention from Theo and settled it heavily onto the eager face of young Kevin Blaze. There was a long pause; a tense lull in the proceedings in which no one spoke and no one seemed to breathe. Finally, Judge Yeck said, “Sit down.”
When Blaze was back in his seat, Judge Yeck said, “And stay there. Don’t get up again unless I ask you to. Now, Mr. Blaze, can you not see that I am addressing the issue of Theodore Boone’s presence in this matter? Is that not obvious to you? I need no assistance from you. Your objection is useless. It is not overruled, nor is it sustained. It is simply ignored.” Another long pause as Judge Yeck looked at the group of women seated behind the table on the left.
He pointed and asked, “Who are these people?”
Blaze, firmly gripping the arms of his c
hair, said, “These are witnesses, Your Honor.”
Judge Yeck was obviously not happy with this response. “Okay, here’s the way I operate, Mr. Blaze. I prefer short hearings. I prefer few witnesses. And I really have no patience with witnesses who say the same things that other witnesses have already said. You understand this, Mr. Blaze?”
“Yes, sir.”
Looking at Theo, the judge said, “Thank you for taking an interest in this case, Mr. Boone.”
“You’re welcome, Judge.”
His Honor glanced at a sheet of paper and said, “Good. Now, I suppose we need to meet Pete.” He nodded to his ancient court clerk, who disappeared for a moment then returned with a uniformed bailiff holding a cheap, wire birdcage. He placed it on the corner of Judge Yeck’s bench. Inside the cage was Pete, an African gray parrot, fourteen inches long from beak to tail. Pete glanced around the strange room, moving only his head.
“I guess you’re Pete,” Judge Yeck said.
“I’m Pete,” Pete said in a clear, high-pitched voice.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Judge Yeck.”
“Yeck, Yeck, Yeck,” Pete squawked, and almost everyone laughed. The ladies in the black boots did not. They were frowning even harder now, not at all amused by Pete.
Judge Yeck exhaled slowly, as if the hearing might take longer than he wanted. “Call your first witness,” he said to Kevin Blaze.
“Yes, Your Honor. I guess we’ll start with Kate Spangler.” Blaze reshifted his weight and turned to look at his client. It was obvious he wanted to stand and move around the courtroom, and felt constrained. He picked up a legal pad covered with notes, and began, “You are the co-owner of SC Stables, correct?”
“Yes.” Ms. Spangler was a small, thin woman in her mid-forties.
“How long have you owned SC Stables?”
“Why is that important?” Judge Yeck interrupted quickly. “Please tell me how that is possibly relevant to what we’re doing here.”
Blaze tried to explain. “Well, Your Honor, we need to prove that—”
“Here’s how we do things in Animal Court, Mr. Blaze. Ms. Spangler, please tell me what happened. Just forget all the stuff your lawyer has told you, and tell me what Pete here did to upset you.”
“I’m Pete,” Pete said.
“Yes, we know.”
“Yeck, Yeck, Yeck.”
“Thank you, Pete.” A long pause to make sure Pete was finished for the moment, then the judge waved at Ms. Spangler. She began, “Well, on Tuesday of last week, we were in the middle of a lesson. I was in the arena, on foot, with four of my students mounted, when suddenly this bird here came out of nowhere, squawking and making all kinds of noises, just a few feet above our heads. The horses freaked out and bolted for the barn. I almost got trampled. Betty Slocum fell and hurt her arm.”
Betty Slocum stood quickly so everyone could see the large, white cast on her left arm.
“He swooped down again, like some crazy kamikaze, and chased the horses as they—”
“Kamikaze, kamikaze, kamikaze,” Pete blurted.
“Just shut up!” Ms. Spangler said to Pete.
“Please, he’s just a bird,” Judge Yeck said.
Pete began saying something that could not be understood. Anton leaned over and whispered to Theo. “He’s speaking Creole.”
“What is it?” Judge Yeck asked.
“He’s speaking Creole French, Your Honor,” Theo explained. “It’s his native tongue.”
“What’s he saying?”
Theo whispered to Anton, who whispered right back. “You don’t want to know, Your Honor,” Theo reported.
Pete shut up, and everyone waited for a moment. Judge Yeck looked at Anton and said softly, “Will he stop talking if he’s asked to stop talking?”
Anton shook his head and said, “No, sir.”
Another pause. “Please continue,” Judge Yeck said.
Judy Cross took over and said, “And then the next day, at about the same time, I was giving a lesson. I had five of my riders on their horses. In the course of any lesson, I yell instructions to my students, such as ‘Walk on,’ and ‘Halt,’ and ‘Canter.’ I had no idea he was watching us, but he was. He was hiding in an oak tree next to the arena, and he started yelling, “‘Halt! Halt!’”
Pete, on cue, yelled, “Halt! Halt! Halt!”
“See what I mean? And the horses stopped dead still. I tried to ignore him. I told my students to remain calm and just ignore this guy. I said ‘Walk on,’ and the horses began their movements. Then he started yelling, “‘Halt!’ ‘Halt!’”
Judge Yeck held up both hands for silence. Seconds passed. He said, “Please continue.”
Judy Cross said, “He was quiet for a few minutes. We ignored him. The students were concentrating and the horses were calm. They were in a slow walk, when suddenly he started yelling, ‘Canter! Canter!’ The horses bolted again and began sprinting all around the arena. It was chaos. I barely escaped getting run over.”
Pete squawked, “Canter! Canter!”
“See what I mean,” Judy Cross gushed. “He’s been harassing us for over a week. One day he’ll drop from the sky like a dive-bomber and frighten the horses. The next day he’ll sneak up on us and hide in a tree and wait until things are quiet before he starts yelling instructions. He’s evil. Our horses are afraid to come out of the barn. Our students want their money back. He’s killing our business.”
With perfect timing, Pete said, “You’re fat.”
He waited five seconds, then did it again. “You’re fat.” His words echoed around the room and stunned everyone. Most of the people looked at their shoes, or boots.
Judy Cross swallowed hard, closed her eyes tightly, clenched her fists, and frowned as if in great pain. She was a large woman with a wide frame, the kind of body that had always carried extra weight, and carried it badly. It was obvious from her reaction that her weight had presented many complicated issues over the years. It was something she had battled, and lost badly. Being heavy was an extremely sensitive topic for Judy, one she wrestled with every day.
“You’re fat,” Pete reminded her, for the third time.
Judge Yeck, who was desperately fighting the natural reaction to burst out laughing, jumped in and said, “Okay. Is it safe to assume that your other witnesses are willing to say pretty much the same thing?” The women nodded. Several seemed to be cowering, almost hiding, as if they had lost some of their enthusiasm. At that moment, it would take enormous courage to say harmful things about Pete. What would he blurt out about them, and their bodies?
“Anything else?” Judge Yeck asked.
Kate Spangler said, “Judge, you’ve got to do something. This bird is costing us our business. We’ve already lost money. This simply isn’t fair.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t care what you do. Can you put him to sleep or something?”
“You want me to kill him?”
“Halt! Halt!” Pete screamed.
“Maybe you could clip his wings,” Judy Cross chimed in.
“Halt! Halt!” Pete continued, then he resorted to Creole and unleashed a furious string of harsh words at the two women. When he finished, Judge Yeck glanced at Anton and asked, “What did he say?”
Anton’s grandparents were chuckling and covering their mouths.
“Really bad stuff,” Anton replied. “He doesn’t like those two women.”
“Got that.” The judge raised his hands again and asked for calm. Pete got the message. “Mr. Boone.”
Theo said, “Well, Judge, I think it might be helpful if my friend Anton gave you some background on Pete.”
“Please do so.”
Anton cleared his throat, and began nervously. “Yes, sir. Pete is fifty years old. He was given to my father when he was a little boy in Haiti, a gift from his father, so Pete has been in the family for a long time. When my grandparents came to this country a few years ago, Pete came, too. African gray parrots
are some of the smartest animals in the world. As you can see, he knows a lot of words. He understands what others are saying. He can even imitate the voices of humans.”
Pete was watching Anton as he spoke, the voice so familiar. He began saying, “Andy, Andy, Andy.”
“I’m here, Pete,” Anton said.
“Andy, Andy.”
A pause, then Anton continued, “Parrots like to have a fixed routine each day, and they require at least an hour out of their cages. Every day at four o’clock, Pete gets out, and we thought he was just hanging around the backyard. I guess not. The stables are about a mile away, and he must have found the place. We’re very sorry about this, but please don’t hurt Pete.”
“Thank you,” Judge Yeck said. “Now, Mr. Blaze, what am I supposed to do?”
“Your Honor, it’s obvious that the owners cannot control this bird, and it’s their duty to do so. One compromise might be that the court orders the owners to have its wings clipped. I’ve checked with two veterinarians and one wildlife specialist, and they’ve told me that such a procedure is not unusual, nor is it painful or expensive.”
At full volume, Pete yelled, “You’re stupid.”
There was laughter as Blaze’s face turned red. Judge Yeck said, “Okay that’s enough. Get him out of here. Pete, sorry old boy, but you must leave the room.” The bailiff snatched the birdcage and took him away. As the door closed, Pete was cursing mightily in Creole.
When the room was quiet again, Judge Yeck said, “Mr. Boone, what’s your suggestion?”
With no hesitation, Theo said, “Probation, Your Honor. Give us one more chance. My friends here will find a way to control Pete and keep him away from the stables. I don’t think they realize what he’s been doing, or the problems he’s created. They are very sorry for all this.”
“And if he does it again?”
“Then a harsher punishment would be in order.” Theo knew two things that Kevin Blaze did not. First, Judge Yeck believed in second chances and rarely ordered animals destroyed until he had no other choice. Second, he’d been kicked out of the Macklin law firm five years earlier, so he probably held a bit of a grudge.
