“Sure.”
When the class was seated, Mr. Mount began with, “It’s clear that Woody is absent today and missed yesterday. Some of you have asked about him, and, well, to be honest about the situation, Woody is in jail. Along with his brother Tony. Theo has been to court twice trying to help, and he knows more about what’s going on. Theo.”
As captain of the Debate Team, Theo had overcome his fear of speaking in public. Most of his classmates had not. Mr. Mount always said that most people, especially kids but even adults, fear public speaking. Theo enjoyed the attention, and he was secretly proud that he could do something most kids could not.
He took a deep breath and walked to the front of the class. “I just got back from Youth Court,” he said gravely, as if he were the lawyer in charge of Woody’s defense. “Woody is doing okay but needs to get out of jail. The facts go something like this, and I cannot reveal everything because Youth Court cases are private matters. But sometime late Tuesday night, Woody and his older brother Tony were riding around with a friend. They stopped at a convenience store, something happened, and they were arrested later for armed robbery. They appeared in court Wednesday morning and again a few hours ago. My mother is trying to help them get out. The judge set their bail at ten thousand dollars each, and the family is trying to raise the money.”
“They have to raise twenty thousand dollars?” Brandon asked.
“No, not quite that much.”
“What does bail mean?” Aaron asked. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s kind of complicated,” Theo replied.
Mr. Mount said, “Theo, why don’t you use Woody as an example and walk us through the bail system? And keep it as simple as possible.”
Theo loved moments like this when the class was stumped by a legal issue or problem. He was suddenly the smooth and gifted trial lawyer pacing in front of the jury. “Okay, so Woody got arrested, charged with a crime, and put in jail. Since he is presumed to be innocent until proven guilty, he has the right to get out of jail, regardless of the crime. But, the police need to make sure he’ll show up in court when he’s expected. In theory, the police need some promise that he will not run away. I think in the old days criminals just disappeared after they got out. That doesn’t happen much today. Anyway, the police and judges developed the system of bail. You’ve heard the old saying: ‘Bail him out of jail.’ That’s what happens. The accused is required to put up some money or some land that the court can hold to make sure he doesn’t disappear. Since most people charged with crimes have little money and no property, they are forced to buy a bail bond. There are these guys who hang around the jail and the courtrooms trying to sell bail bonds to defendants. In Woody’s case, his bail is ten thousand dollars. His family doesn’t have that kind of money, so his mother will be forced to do business with a bail bondsman. For ten percent of the bail, in cash, this guy will give the court a bond, a written document that guarantees Woody’s appearance whenever he’s supposed to be in court. If Woody fails to show up, the bondsman has the right to go hunt him down and arrest him. As a rule, bail bondsmen are pretty tough guys.”
“So Woody needs a thousand dollars?” Jarvis asked.
“Right. And a thousand for his brother. Their mother simply doesn’t have the money, so they’re still in jail. They’ve been there for the past two nights.”
“If he’s innocent, why is he stuck in jail?” asked Darren.
“Good question, and I have no good answer. Let’s just say that the bail system is out of date and a lot of people are trying to change it. Last night I found online at least two national organizations working to reform bail laws. A lot of people are locked away when they should be working and taking care of their families.”
“Which brings us back to Woody,” Mr. Mount said. “How can we help? I guess he needs a thousand dollars.”
“Not really. He needs two thousand. Mrs. Lambert has to get two boys out of jail, not just one. And Woody told her he won’t leave without Tony. So it’s both or nothing.”
During his slow ride back to school, Theo had pondered the idea of asking his friends to chip in all the money they could find. He was ready and willing to offer his savings of four hundred dollars, but he worried that most of the others had little to offer. They were, after all, only thirteen years old. On his tenth birthday, Theo’s parents had given him fifty dollars to deposit in his brand-new savings account, and each year they added fifty dollars to it. He was encouraged to stash away any spare cash he earned with the various odd jobs he was lucky enough to find. He was proud of his savings but willing to give it all away to help Woody.
Theo was luckier than most of his friends and he knew it. He was an only child of two lawyers who were watching him closely and planning his future. He was often frustrated by the high levels of supervision, but his parents always seemed to know when to back off, a little. He was taught not to compare himself to his friends, but to simply accept them for who they were.
Throwing four hundred dollars on the table like some big shot would not go over well with his friends. Chase Whipple wouldn’t mind because his family had money and Theo was close to him. Brandon would be impressed by such a gesture because his goal was to be the first millionaire in the class. He had his own paper route and was trading stocks online. However, he had been complaining recently about a downturn in the market.
But the rest of the class would resent the challenge. And, it simply wouldn’t work. Theo suspected that only he and two or three others had savings accounts, and he wasn’t about to ask. At the moment, no one seemed eager to offer money.
Mr. Mount said, “Okay, that’s our challenge. How can we raise two thousand dollars to bail out Woody and Tony?”
A nervous silence followed, with no volunteers. Finally, Jarvis asked, “Is it true that the family has no money at all?”
Theo replied, “I don’t know. I’m sure Mrs. Lambert is trying to scrape together something, but I haven’t asked. That’s really none of my business. Woody’s stepfather is working out of town and doesn’t want to help.”
Chase asked, “Does Woody just stay in jail forever if he can’t make bail?”
“Not forever,” Theo replied. “Eventually, he’ll go to court to face the charges, maybe have a trial. If he’s found not guilty, he’ll be released. If he’s found guilty, I suppose they send him away.”
“Do you think he’s guilty, Theo?” asked Ricardo.
“No, he’s not guilty of armed robbery. We know Woody. He’d never do something as terrible as that. I’ve talked to him and he says it’s just one big misunderstanding. He may be guilty of underage drinking, but nothing else.”
Justin said, “I have a question, Theo. Suppose Woody can’t bail out and has to sit in jail until his trial. How long will that take?”
“You never know. It varies, even in Youth Court. I guess several months.”
“So, Woody sits in jail for months, flunks out of school, then goes to trial and let’s say he’s found not guilty. He goes home right, as if nothing happened? A clean record.”
“Right.”
“What about the time he just served? Does he get paid for that?”
“No, of course not. It’s just wasted time.”
“So what’s fair about this system?”
“Who said it was fair?”
“Well, you’re always talking about how great the court system is, how great the law is, how much you want to be a lawyer. That’s the last place I’d want to work.”
Mr. Mount said, “Okay, let’s get back to the issue at hand. While we’re having this discussion, your friend Woody is sitting in jail, and I’m sure he is not doing his homework.”
Theo suffered through the rest of the day. During study hall, which was supervised by Mr. Mount, he was called to the principal’s office. Mrs. Gladwell had prepared written instructions allowing Theo to leave an hour early and go to the jail. She had discussed Woody’s situation with Judge Pendergrast and they had
agreed that Theo could haul in the necessary textbooks and help his friend with his homework.
Theo knew that the last thing Woody would want to see in jail was a stack of textbooks, but he said nothing. He left the school at two p.m., an hour before final bell. With some time to spare, he detoured to the courthouse and went to the public defenders’ office on the third floor where he was greeted by the same grouchy secretary he’d encountered on Tuesday.
“I’d like to see Mr. Rodney Wall,” he asked without saying hello.
She stopped typing, frowned at him, and said, “It’s you again. Why aren’t you in school?”
“I’m excused and I have the paperwork to prove it.”
She lost interest immediately, nodded toward a closed door, and said, “He’s in there.”
Theo knocked on the door and a squeaky voice said, “Come in.”
Rodney Wall looked young enough to be a senior at Strattenburg High School. He was a small guy seated in an oversized chair that dwarfed him. He wore round glasses and a scruffy beard that was probably an effort to make up for his lack of hair. He made no effort to stand or greet his visitor.
“Can I help you?” he asked, but it was obvious that helping was not on his mind.
Theo walked to the edge of his cluttered desk and said, “Yes, I’m Theodore Boone, a friend of Woody Lambert, your client. I’d like to talk about his case.”
“Oh you would?”
“Yes.”
Wall arranged his hands so that his fingertips were touching. “Your mother is Marcella Boone.”
“Yes.”
“So is she planning to represent the Lambert boys?”