Free Theodore Boone: Kid Lawyer by John Grisham Page A

feel well.”
    “Are your eyes red?” his father asked.
    “I think so.”
    “A headache?”
    “Yes, but not bad.”
    “Sniffles, runny nose?”
    “Yes.”
    “When did this happen?” his mother asked.
    “You’re a very sick boy,” his father said. “I say you should skip school tomorrow so you won’t spread this terrible infection. But, it might be a good idea to go to court instead and watch the Duffy trial. What do you think, Mom?”
    “Oh, I see,” she said. “A sudden onset of the flu.”
    “Probably just another one of those nasty twenty-four-hour episodes that seems to end miraculously when the school day is over,” his father said.
    “I really don’t feel well,” Theo said, busted but gamely trying to hang on.
    “Take an aspirin, maybe a cough drop,” his father said. Woods Boone seldom saw a doctor and believed most people spent far too much money on medications.
    “Can you cough again for us, Teddy?” his mother asked. As a mother, she was slightly more sympathetic when he felt bad. The truth was that Theo had a history of faking it, especially when he had something better to do than go to school.
    His father started laughing. “Yes, it was a pretty lame cough, Theo, even by your standards.”
    “I could be dying,” Theo said, trying not to laugh.
    “Yes, but you’re not,” his father said. “And if you show up in the courtroom tomorrow Judge Gantry will have you arrested as a truant.”
    “You know any good lawyers?” Theo shot back. His mother burst out laughing, and, eventually, Woods saw the humor.
    “Go to bed,” he said.
    Theo limped up the stairs, thoroughly defeated, with Judge trailing behind. In bed, he opened his laptop and checked on April. He was relieved when she answered,
     
    APRILNPARIS: Hi, Theo. How are you?
    TBOONEESQ: Okay. Where are you?
    APRILNPARIS: At home, in my bedroom, with my door locked.
    TBOONEESQ: Where’s your mother?
    APRILNPARIS: Downstairs. We’re not speaking.
    TBOONEESQ: Did you make it to school?
    APRILNPARIS: No, the trial lasted until noon. I’m so glad it’s over.
    TBOONEESQ: How was it on the witness stand?
    APRILNPARIS: Terrible. I cried, Theo. I couldn’t stop crying. I told the judge that I didn’t want to live with my mother or my father. Her lawyer asked me questions. His lawyer asked me questions. It was awful.
    TBOONEESQ: I’m sorry.
    APRILNPARIS: I don’t understand why you want to be a lawyer.
    TBOONEESQ: To help people like you, that’s why. That’s what good lawyers do. Did you like the judge?
    APRILNPARIS: I didn’t like anybody.
    TBOONEESQ: My mom says he’s good. Did he make a decision about your custody?
    APRILNPARIS: No. He said he would in a few days. For now, I’m living with my mother and her lawyer thinks I’ll stay here.
    TBOONEESQ: Probably so. Will you be at school tomorrow?
    APRILNPARIS: Yep, and I haven’t touched my homework in a week.
    TBOONEESQ: I’ll see you tomorrow.
    APRILNPARIS: Thanks, Theo.
    An hour later he was still awake, his thoughts switching back and forth, from April to the Duffy murder trial.

Chapter 8
    J ulio was waiting. Theo slid to a stop at the bike rack near the flagpole in front of the school and said, “ Hola , Julio. Buenós días .”
    “ Hola , Theo.”
    Theo wrapped the chain around the front tire and clicked the lock. The chain still frustrated him. Up until a year earlier, bikes were safe in Strattenburg. No one bothered with a chain. Then bikes began disappearing, still were, and parents began insisting on the extra security.
    “Thanks for your help last night,” Julio said. His English was good, but still heavily accented. The fact that he had approached Theo at school and initiated a conversation was a big step forward. Or so Theo thought.
    “No problem. Anytime.”
    Julio glanced around. A crowd from the buses was moving through the front door. “You know the law, right, Theo?”
    “Both my parents are lawyers.”
    “Police, courts, all that?”
    Theo