Theodore Boone: The Activist

by John Grisham

  All five commissioners were staring at Theo, hanging on every word. He threw another punch with, “That would be an abuse of power.”

  He changed gears, raised his voice, and said, “Now, the smart folks who designed this bypass think it’s a good idea to reroute twenty-five thousand vehicles a day alongside an elementary school and a soccer complex. At least ten thousand of these will be large trucks with diesel engines. Since no one has bothered to conduct an accurate study of how much the air will be polluted, we don’t, excuse me, you don’t know what you’re talking about. No one does. It seems to me though, and I’m a kid lawyer and not a kid scientist, that the last place you would want to build a busy four-lane road is right next to a school.”

  Hardie, Woody, Chase, and April were standing behind Theo, and on cue they began coughing and gagging. The rest caught on quickly, and for about thirty seconds the entire yellow horde shook and gyrated and bent double in an exaggerated display of the effects of diesel contamination.

  Mr. Stak finally raised his hand and said, patiently, “Okay, okay.” The coughing and gagging stopped immediately. The crowd was greatly amused, as were most of the commissioners and their assistants.

  Theo continued, “Fortunately, my school is not close to the proposed bypass, but let me tell you a little about my school. In the past two months, my school has been forced to cut programs, lay off part-time workers, fire coaches, janitors, and cafeteria workers, and cancel trips. Every school in our district has done this. Why? Budget cuts. Not enough revenue. And it’s not just the schools. Our police and fire departments have laid off employees. We’ve had cuts in street maintenance, garbage collection, parks and recreation, in every single department. You know that because you’ve been forced to cut the county’s budget.” Another pause as he looked up for the kill. “How can you, as leaders of our community, cut budgets one day and then vote to approve a bypass to nowhere that will cost two hundred million dollars?”

  The crowd roared instantly and within seconds many of those cheering were on their feet. The ovation went on and on and gathered steam, and Theo took a step backward. Mr. Stak raised his hand for order but he was ignored. What was he going to do anyway? Arrest several hundred people at one time? Wisely, he sat grim-faced and listened to the roar. During one brief second, he locked eyes with Theo, and both knew the truth.

  Theo realized his little off-the-cuff speech had reached its peak. Mr. Mount always said it’s best to quit when you’re ahead. Many speakers lose their audience by going on too long. Plus, Theo was so relieved to have made it this far, and he really had nothing left. When the crowd finally settled down, he stepped back to the microphone and said, “Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Boone,” Mr. Stak said. It was almost midnight. The last speaker had just spoken. There was nothing left on the agenda but a vote on the bypass. It was obvious the crowd was not leaving until the commissioners voted. The kids in yellow did not return to their seats. Instead, they bunched even closer together around the podium and up the aisles, as close to the commissioners as they could get. They locked arms and sat on the floor.

  “You guys can go back to your seats,” Mr. Stak said, but the kids shook their heads. They weren’t budging.

  From the back, a loudmouth stood up and yelled, “We want a vote!” This immediately led to another deafening round of “We want a vote!! We want a vote!!” The walls shook and the windows rattled and the commissioners looked aggravated and confused. They wanted to huddle in a back room, as was their usual custom, and work out a deal before going public. But not tonight, not at this moment. There was nothing to do but vote.

  Mr. Stak raised his hand again and finally brought the crowd under control. He said, “Very well, under the rules of this commission, it is now necessary that we take a vote. Madame Secretary, will you call the roll?”

  At the end of their long table, the secretary said, “Certainly. All five commissioners are present and voting. The vote will be a simple Yes to approve the bypass and No if you do not approve the project. Approval is by a simple majority. Mr. Stak?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mr. Grimes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mr. Cerroni?”

  “No.”

  “Mr. McGray?”

  Mr. McGray was rubbing his white whiskers, troubled and deep in thought. With a scratchy voice he finally said, “No.”

  Theo was sitting on the floor in front of the podium, arm in arm with Hardie and April, and it seemed as though every kid around him was holding his or her breath. At that tense moment, things did not look good. The vote was tied 2–2, with only Mr. Klasko remaining, and he had given the clear impression he wanted the bypass.

  “Mr. Klasko?”

  Mr. Klasko’s spine stiffened and his head jerked back. He ran a hand over his mouth, fidgeted, seemed to be short of breath, and finally managed to blurt, “Abstain.”

  Mitchell Stak and Lucas Grimes shot panicked looks at Buddy Klasko, who wasn’t looking at anyone. He was gazing at a distant window, obviously wanting to jump through it. The crowd gasped and mumbled and no one seemed certain of the vote.

  The secretary calmly announced, “By a vote of two in favor, two opposed, and one abstention, the motion to approve the Red Creek Bypass Project hereby fails for lack of a majority.”

  This set off a rowdy standing ovation. The kids in the front of the room were jumping and applauding. Their parents were hugging and high-fiving and shaking hands and celebrating. In the midst of the noise, the five commissioners gathered their papers and began to leave. The experts from the State Highway Department and the project’s supporters grabbed their briefcases and materials and headed for the nearest door.

  The meeting was adjourned, but the kids were not leaving. Instead, they swarmed around the podium, where Theo Boone stood in the center of the mob, soaking up his finest moment.

  Chapter 29

  The party began at 2:00 p.m. on the Saturday after the public hearing. It was thrown together at the last minute by the Quinn clan, all of them it seemed. They invited lots of people: neighbors whose land and homes had also been threatened, opponents who’d led the fight against the bypass, people like Sebastian Ryan and members of the Sierra Club, and many of the kids—the “yellow gang”—who had been so important in the fight. On a clear and beautiful afternoon, they gathered on the Quinn farm, behind the house, in the long, wide backyard where so many generations of Quinns had played and partied.

  Hardie’s grandfather, Mr. Silas Quinn, was in charge of his huge barbecue grill. It was covered with chickens, sausages, hot dogs, and ribs, and the thick, delicious aroma wafted over the farm. At times, the bluish fog from the grill reminded some of one of Theo’s smoke bombs. Hardie’s grandmother, Mrs. Beverly Quinn, fussed about the table where a feast was being assembled. Beans, coleslaw, casseroles, deviled eggs, corn on the cob—enough food for an army.

  Theo was there with both parents and Judge, whose broken leg was now almost healed and not bothered by a splint. Judge romped around with a dozen other dogs. Woody, Chase, April, and several other friends flung Frisbees around while their parents drank iced tea and told stories about the great victory.

  The party was nothing less than a celebration. The Quinns were truly thankful that their cherished land had been saved, and they expressed gratitude to everyone there. When it was time to eat, the crowd gathered around the table and Hardie’s father, the Reverend Charles Quinn, led them in a long, lovely prayer. He gave thanks for almost everything, but especially for friends, old and new, who help others in a time of need.

  With his head bowed but his eyes open, Theo looked down at Judge, who was hungry, of course, and said his own prayer of thanks.

 

 

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