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John Grisham: The Activist

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John Grisham The Activist

The Activist: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Theodore Boone is back, and he’s facing his most dangerous case yet. As Strattenburg sits divided over a hot political and environmental issue, Theo finds himself in the middle of the battle. When he uncovers corruption beneath the surface, Theo will confront bigger risks than ever to himself and those he loves. But even face-to-face with danger, Theodore Boone will do whatever it takes to stand up for what’s right.

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The door closed quietly, and for a few seconds the students stared at it in silence. Finally, April said, “Do something, Theo. This is not fair.”

Theo was standing. “Let’s go see Mrs. Gladwell. All of us. We’ll take over her office, and we won’t leave until she meets with us.”

“Great idea.”

They followed Theo from the room and marched as a group out of the band hall, across a foyer, outside through a courtyard, into the main building, down a long hallway, and finally into the central lobby where the principal’s office was located near the doors of the school’s front entrance. They marched inside and stopped at the desk of Miss Gloria, the school’s secretary. One of her many jobs was to guard the door that led to Mrs. Gladwell’s inner office. Theo knew Miss Gloria well, and he had once given her advice when her brother got caught driving while drunk.

“Good afternoon,” Miss Gloria said as she peeked over the reading glasses on the tip of her nose. She had been typing away and seemed a bit irritated by the fact that suddenly a dozen angry eighth graders were in front of her desk.

“Hi, Miss Gloria,” Theo said without a smile. “We’d like to see Mrs. Gladwell.”

“What’s the problem?”

So typical of Miss Gloria. Always wanting to know your business before you could discuss your business with Mrs. Gladwell. She had a reputation for being the nosiest person in the school. Theo knew from experience Miss Gloria would find out sooner or later what the kids were up to, so he knew how to play the game.

“We were in Mr. Sasstrunk’s music class,” he explained. “The one that just got axed by the school, and we want to talk to Mrs. Gladwell about it.”

Miss Gloria arched her eyebrows as if this simply wasn’t possible. “She’s busy, in a very important meeting.” As she said this she nodded to the door of Mrs. Gladwell’s office. It was closed, of course, as always. Theo had been in there many times, usually for good meetings but occasionally for something not so pleasant. Just last month he’d been in a fight, his only fight since the third grade, and he and Mrs. Gladwell had discussed it behind that closed door.

“We’ll wait,” he said.

“She’s very busy.”

“She’s always busy. Please tell her we’re here.”

“I can’t interrupt.”

“Okay then, we’ll wait.” Theo looked around the large reception room. There were a couple of benches and an assortment of well-used chairs. “In here,” he said, and his classmates immediately took over the benches and chairs. Those who could not find a place simply sat on the floor.

Miss Gloria was known to have grumpy moods, and evidently she was in the middle of one. She did not like the fact that her space had been invaded by a bunch of unhappy students. “Theo,” she said rudely, “I suggest you and your friends wait outside in the front lobby.”

“What’s wrong with waiting in here?” Theo shot back.

“I said to wait out there,” she replied, suddenly angry and raising her voice.

“Who says we can’t wait in the school office?”

Miss Gloria’s face turned red, and she seemed ready to explode. Wisely, she bit her tongue and took a deep breath. She had no right to order the kids out of the reception area, and she knew Theo knew this. She also knew Theo’s mother and father were respected lawyers who did not hesitate to defend their son against adults when the adults were wrong and Theo was right. Mrs. Boone, in particular, could get rather firm when Theo took a stand against unfairness.

“Very well,” she said. “Just keep it quiet. I have work to do.”

“Thank you,” Theo said. And he almost added that they had yet to make a sound, but he let it pass. He’d won this brief little battle; no sense in causing more trouble.

For five minutes they watched Miss Gloria as she tried to appear busy. But it was almost 4:00 p.m., and school had been out for half an hour. The day was quickly winding down. A few minutes later, the door to Mrs. Gladwell’s office opened and two young parents stepped out. They barely glanced at Theo and his gang as they hurried away, obviously not happy about the meeting. Mrs. Gladwell stepped into the reception area, saw the crowd, and said, “Theo, nice job today in the debate.”

“Thank you.”

“What’s going on here?”

“Well, Mrs. Gladwell, this is what’s left of Mr. Sasstrunk’s music class, and we’d like to know why the class has been canceled.”

She sighed and smiled, then patiently said, “Can’t say I’m really surprised. Please step inside.” The students filed into her office, with Theo bringing up the rear. As he closed the door, he couldn’t help but flash a nasty grin at Miss Gloria, who was watching. To her credit, she returned the smile.

Inside, the students all stood in front of Mrs. Gladwell’s desk. There were only three chairs for guests, and no one was bold enough to sit down. Mrs. Gladwell understood this. “Thank you for stopping by, kids, and I’m very sorry about the music class,” she said as she picked up a report of some kind. “This is a memo I received this morning from the main office of the city school administration. It came directly from Mr. Otis McCord, the superintendent, the number one man and my boss. The school board met last night in a special meeting to address the rather urgent budget problems. It seems as though the Strattenburg city school system will receive about a million dollars less than what had been promised from the city, the county, and the state. All three contribute to the school’s budget, and for several reasons the funding has been reduced. So, cuts have to be made. Throughout the city, part-time teachers are being laid off. Field trips are being canceled. After-school programs, such as Mr. Sasstrunk’s music class, are being cut. And the list goes on and on. It’s very unpleasant, but I have no control over it.”

Mrs. Gladwell had a wonderful way of making things clear. The kids absorbed every word as it became obvious that there was nothing they could do.

“What happened to the funding?” Theo asked.

“That’s a difficult question. Some people blame it on the recession and tough economic times. Tax collections are down, and so there’s not as much money to go around. Other people claim the school system wastes too much money, especially at the home office. I really don’t know. My job is to follow orders. In addition to this music class, I have to eliminate one janitor, two cafeteria workers, four part-time coaches, as well as six other after-school classes. And, I’ve just told Mr. Pearce that his seventh-grade science class cannot take the annual trip to the Rustenburg Nuclear Plant.”

“That’s awful,” Susan said. “That’s a great trip.”

“I know, I know. Mr. Pearce has been doing it for years.”

“It doesn’t seem fair to give a guy a contract, a promise, then yank it away in the middle of the course,” Theo said.

“No, it doesn’t seem fair, Theo. But, I’m not in charge of contracts. There’s a lawyer in the home office who handles these things.”

Several of the students looked at each other as reality settled in.

Mrs. Gladwell said, “I’m very sorry. I wish there was something I could do, but it’s out of my hands. I’m sure Mr. McCord and the school board will hear a lot of complaints, and you’re free to join in.” After a long pause, she said, “Now, if there’s nothing else, I have a meeting to attend.”

“Thanks for listening, Mrs. Gladwell,” Theo said.

“That’s my job.”

Defeated, the students filed somberly out of the office.

Chapter 3

Since before Theo was born, his parents had worked together in a little law firm called Boone & Boone. Their offices were in a converted old house on a quiet and shady street lined with similar offices, just a few blocks from Main Street and downtown Strattenburg. When the weather was nice, lawyers were often seen walking along the sidewalks of Park Street with their briefcases on the way to and from the courthouse, which was only ten minutes away. And during the noon hour there were packs of lawyers and accountants and architects strolling along, talking and laughing as they headed to lunch. Secretaries and paralegals were often seen scurrying about delivering important papers to other offices or hustling off to the courthouse.

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