“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 chair, 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.”