Theodore Boone: The Scandal (7 page)

T
heo arrived at school a few minutes early on Monday morning. He was met at the bike rack by Pete Holland, who had a smile on his face. As Theo was chaining his bike, Pete said, “My dad came home yesterday, Theo, a week early, and he’s in great shape. He looks good and healthy, and he promised us again that he has quit drinking. We had a great time. Last night he took us out for pizza and subs, something we’ve never done before. I’ve never seen my parents smile and laugh so much.”

“That’s great to hear, Pete.” They were walking slowly into the school.

“Things are gonna be tough for a while because he lost his job, but he thinks he can find another one pretty soon. He left home early this morning to look for work. He stopped smoking, too, and he promised there would never be alcohol or tobacco in our house. It’s really hard to believe, Theo.”

“I’m really happy for you, Pete.”

“I just want to say thanks. Thanks to you for being my friend, and especially thanks to your mother. She’s awesome, Theo.”

“Happy to help, Pete. And you’re right. She is awesome.”

“And your dad, too.”

“I’m very lucky, Pete.”

They shook hands and went to their homerooms.

The week began as usual at Strattenburg Middle School. However, four miles away at East, things were off to a rocky start. As first period was beginning, the principal appeared in Mr. London’s classroom and asked him to follow him to the office. Three investigators were waiting, and none of them was smiling. On the small conference table there was a suspicious-looking black box, with gauges and wires and cords running everywhere. It looked dangerous. Mr. London sat down and stared at it.

The principal said, “We are asking you to take a polygraph exam.”

Mr. London looked bewildered and asked, “A lie detector?”

“That’s correct,” said an investigator.

“What’s this all about?”

“I think you know,” the principal replied.

An investigator said, “We’re going to ask you about your involvement with Geneva Hull, Emily Novak, Tom Willingham, and Penn Norman on the day after the standardized testing was completed.”

Mr. London dropped his head. They knew. They had all five names. His job was finished. His career was over. He covered his eyes with his hands and tried to maintain his composure. After a long, painful silence, he asked, “And what if I refuse the polygraph?”

The principal said, rather harshly, “You’ll be suspended and escorted out of the school immediately.”

“And if I take the test and flunk it?”

“I’m afraid this is one test you can’t change.”

His eyes were moist, and he wiped them. With a quivering lip, he said, “I’m not going to talk.”

The principal said, “Then you are suspended until further notice. I’ll follow you to your room to gather your things, and then to the parking lot. I’m sorry, Paul.”

“So am I.”

They left together, and as they walked down the empty hall, Mr. London asked, “What will I tell my students?”

The principal replied, “For now, just tell them you’re not feeling well.”

“That would be the truth.”

They entered Mr. London’s classroom, where an aide was chatting with the students. Mr. London said nothing as he grabbed his jacket and backpack. He refused to look at his kids as he left. The principal walked with him out of the building without a word and watched him drive away. He then returned to the hall and went straight to the classroom of Emily Novak. He apologized for the interruption and asked her to come with him to the main office. When she walked into the conference room and saw the strange device on the table, she assumed her day was taking a bad turn. “What’s that?” she asked.

An investigator, the same one she had met the week before, said, “We are asking you to take a polygraph exam.”

“Regarding what?”

The principal replied, “The standardized tests. We asked Paul London to submit himself to the polygraph. He refused and has been suspended. He just left. You’re next, then Geneva Hull, Tom Willingham, and Penn Norman.”

“The whole gang, huh?” she said without emotion, as if something like this was expected.

“Yes, Emily, the whole gang. We know what happened.”

“Well, if you know what happened, then you don’t need me to tell you. I’m not taking a lie detector test. I don’t trust those things.”

“Then you’re suspended immediately. I’ll escort you back to your class to gather your things, then to the parking lot.”

As Paul London drove away from the school, he thought about either calling or texting Geneva Hull, who was not at school that morning. She was conveniently taking a sick day, as if she knew something bad was going down. Then he realized that his phone records might one day be examined. He wasn’t sure who might check them, but using the phone at that moment suddenly seemed like a bad idea. Instead, he drove to Ms. Hull’s apartment and knocked on her door. She was young, only twenty-nine, single, and lived alone. She answered the door, invited him in, and made a pot of coffee. For an hour they rehashed their mistakes and tried to think of what to do next. Mr. London had been teaching for twenty years and was beloved by his students. Ms. Hull had been at East for five years and was still uncertain if teaching would be her career. At that awful moment, it looked unlikely.

Both were emotional and frightened. They were certain they would be fired and bewildered about what to do next.

For what it was worth, Mr. London took responsibility for the cheating scandal. Three years earlier, he had begun, on his own and by himself, changing test scores. His reasons at that time made sense, at least to him. He hated the tests to begin with, and he did not want his students labeled as slow learners. There were many lower income kids at East, and they were as bright as the other eighth graders in town. They just didn’t have the same support at home and the same opportunities. He changed some scores, then he recruited Emily Novak and Tom Willingham, who were his good friends. They later added Penn Norman and Geneva to their little gang.

It all seemed so stupid now. They were bound to get caught. They had become too aggressive with their cheating and had left too wide a trail.

“You think we need a lawyer?” Geneva asked.

“I don’t know,” Paul replied. “I really can’t afford one.”

Ms. Hull’s phone began buzzing. It was the principal. “I think I’ll ignore that,” she said.

“You can run but you can’t hide,” Mr. London said.

“I know.”

Meanwhile, back at East, Tom Willingham and Penn Norman also declined to take a polygraph exam. By lunch, rumors were flying through the school, and everyone knew about the suspensions. In a text to all teachers, the principal called a faculty meeting at the end of the day to discuss the situation.

E
lsa’s desk was just inside the front door at Boone & Boone, and it was more of a command center than a reception area. With four incoming lines, she handled the phones with ease. Every caller received the same professional greeting, though a lot of calls were unwanted. She could immediately tell if a caller was shopping around for free legal advice, or had a bogus claim, or needed a lawyer for some type of work the Boones stayed away from, or was just one of the many nut jobs clogging up the lines. After thirty years, she had developed a sixth sense about who really needed help and who to avoid. She also handled the traffic: the clients who arrived early or late for appointments; the unexpected walk-ins; the door-to-door solicitors; the endless parade of salesmen peddling legal supplies and law books; and the lawyers who were there for various meetings. She also balanced the schedules of everyone in the firm, including Theo and his dental and medical appointments. She kept up with birthdays, anniversaries, deadlines, and docket calls, and she sent flowers on behalf of the firm for funerals and burials. She made the coffee and made sure there was always a fresh pot. She fed Judge, who was always prowling for food. She reminded Mr. Boone to take his pills. She fussed at him for smoking his pipe, though everyone knew that was a waste of time. She handled the mail, ran to the bank, sometimes ordered lunch, cranked out routine correspondence, and could type faster than any legal secretary in town. In short, Elsa ran the firm, and for a lady in her seventies she had incredible energy.

She was typing away Monday afternoon when a young lady walked in without an appointment. She said her name was Geneva Hull, and she desperately needed to talk to Mrs. Marcella Boone. Elsa knew immediately that she was in trouble and needed help. Politely, she said, “Well, Mrs. Boone is very busy at the moment.”

“I know. I should have called.”

“May I ask what this is about?” Elsa asked without seeming to pry, though prying was exactly what she was doing.

“I’d rather not say,” Ms. Hull replied.

“I understand, but Mrs. Boone specializes in family law, and there are many cases she does not take.”

Ms. Hull looked around as if she needed extreme privacy, then swallowed hard and said, “I’m a schoolteacher, and I think I’m about to get fired.”

“I see. And where do you teach?”

“At East Middle School.”

Elsa quickly connected the dots and said, “If you don’t mind waiting a bit, I’ll see if Mrs. Boone has some time.”

“Thank you.”

Elsa handed her a sheet of paper and said, “Just have a seat in the conference room and fill out this questionnaire. It’s just basic information. Would you like some coffee?”

“No thanks.”

Fifteen minutes later, Elsa escorted Geneva Hull into Mrs. Boone’s sleek and stylish office. Introductions were made and Elsa excused herself. Geneva took a seat, and Mrs. Boone eased into her swivel chair behind her uncluttered glass and chrome desk. With a professional smile, she began, “How can I help you?”

“I’ve never hired a lawyer before.”

“Well, welcome to America. Everybody needs a lawyer at some point.”

“I, uh, I think I’m about to be fired from my job at East Middle School.”

“On what grounds?”

“The school thinks I’m involved in a cheating scandal, one that involves the standardized tests for eighth graders.”

Mrs. Boone scribbled some notes and thought about this. “Well, Geneva, I’m not sure I should take your case. You see, I have a son who’s in the eighth grade at Strattenburg.”

“I know,” she interrupted. “I’ve heard of Theo. Through a friend of a friend.”

“I guess a lot of people know Theo. Anyway, Theo is a very bright kid and a good student, and he missed the Honors track by one point. Personally, I don’t like the tests and I don’t approve of the tracking system in place at the high school, and I know that Theo will do well in any school, at any level. But it seems as though you and I may have a conflict because of Theo and the tests results.”

“I’ve thought about that, and I think that when the truth comes out it won’t make any difference. The tests results will probably be thrown out, and, frankly, I don’t know what will happen after that. I’ll be gone, and maybe Theo will get another chance. Or maybe the scores for all the kids will be adjusted. I just don’t know.”

“Are you here to tell me the truth?”

Geneva paused and looked away. “I have a question.”

“Okay.”

“If you’re my lawyer, anything I tell you stays in this room, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“You can’t tell anyone?”

“Never. A lawyer must keep her clients’ secrets in strict confidence. The only exception is when the lawyer believes the client may do harm to others, but that’s never happened in my career.”

“Well, then, are you my lawyer?”

“If we can agree to keep Theo out of it, yes, I’ll represent you.”

“I can do that, but can you? You’re his mother.”

“I’m also a professional, Geneva. I keep my family life at home. Theo is going to be fine regardless.”

“Will he know that I’m your client?”

“Normally, Theo does not know who my clients are, but there’s always the chance he’ll find out. It shouldn’t matter. Why don’t you tell me your story, and then we’ll decide whether we should go forward together? And again, anything you tell me will be kept in confidence.”

“Okay.” Geneva took a deep breath and began with the events of that morning: the investigators and their polygraph; the immediate suspensions of her four colleagues; her likely suspension, too. The more she talked the more she wanted to talk. Mrs. Boone listened carefully as she took a few notes.

Geneva eventually worked her way back to the beginning. “I’m sure you know that East has many low income kids. It’s in that part of town, plus the school board tends to assign most new students to East. So we have a lot of immigrant families, a lot of kids using English as a second language and trying hard to learn it. We, the teachers, think it’s unfair to place so many of these kids at East, but we’re not in charge of that. And we love our kids. They show up every day with big smiles and happy hearts, ready to learn. They may not always have lunch money or have had something for breakfast, so we take care of them. No one goes hungry. I think we have to work harder as educators, because we often stay late to tutor kids who are struggling with the language. And we’re there at night to meet with the parents, many of whom work two and three jobs and can’t stop by the school during the day. Our students have to translate, which is often difficult. I have two Vietnamese kids in my class and their parents speak almost no English, but they care deeply and they want their kids to succeed. I guess what I’m saying is that the rules are a little different at East. And it’s so frustrating to watch our kids struggle with the standardized tests, and then score lower than the others, and then get labeled as slow learners or dumb kids. They’re not dumb, and they don’t deserve to get stuck in Remedial in high school. So that’s how it all started, Mrs. Boone. We did it. We’re guilty. We’re about to get fired, and our careers as teachers will be over. But we did it to help our kids and to save our school.”

She finally paused and wiped her cheeks.

Mrs. Boone asked, “When did you first start changing the test scores?”

“Last year was my first year, and we didn’t change that many. The school was facing probation after last year’s results, so this year we changed a lot more. It’s really weird because I think we knew we would eventually get caught, but we just did it anyway. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t. It’s important, at least for the next few days, to stay away from the other teachers. I’ll contact the principal in a few moments and get the terms of your suspension.”

“You sound like my lawyer.”

“I am. We’ll get through this.”

“Thanks.”