The Fugitive

April had convinced Theo that they should see Ford’s Theatre, the place where Abraham Lincoln was shot, and this seemed like an interesting idea. Theo convinced Chase, and after lunch they gathered in the hotel lobby with Mr. Babcock, a history teacher, and a group of eighteen students. Mr. Babcock explained that they would not be taking one of the buses because their group was small. Rather, they would get to experience the DC subway system, known as the Metro. He asked how many of the students had ever ridden on a subway. Theo and three others raised their hands.

They left the hotel and began walking along a busy sidewalk. For kids who lived in a small town, the sounds and energy of a big city were at first hard to absorb. So many big buildings, so many cars bumper to bumper in traffic that hardly moved, so many people bustling along the sidewalks, all anxious to get somewhere. At the Woodley Park Metro Station, they rode the escalator down, far below the streets. Mr. Babcock had plastic SmarTrip cards that would give the students limited use of the Metro system. Their train was half-empty, clean, and efficient. As it zipped along the dark tu

When the train stopped for the third time, just minutes after they had started, it was time to get off at the Metro Center Station. They hurried up the steps and back into the sunlight. Mr. Babcock counted eighteen kids, and they began walking. Minutes later they were on 10th Street.

Mr. Babcock stopped the group and pointed across the street to a handsome redbrick building that was obviously important. He said, “That’s Ford’s Theatre, the place where President Lincoln was shot on April 14, 1865. As you know, because you all have spent so much time doing your history assignments, the Civil War had just ended; in fact, General Lee had surrendered to General Grant only five days earlier at Appomattox Court House in Virginia. The city of Washington was in a good mood, the war was finally over, and so President and Mrs. Lincoln decided to have a night out on the town. Ford’s Theatre was the grandest, most magnificent theatre in town, and the Lincolns came here often for concerts and plays. At the time, the theatre had over two thousand seats, and the play, one called Our American Cousin, was selling out every night.”

They walked half a block and stopped again. Mr. Babcock resumed with, “Now, the war may have been over, but a lot of folks didn’t think so. One was a Confederate named John Wilkes Booth. He was a well-known actor, and he was even photographed with President Lincoln during his second inauguration, a month earlier. Mr. Booth was upset because the South had surrendered, and he was desperate to do something to help its cause. So he decided to kill President Lincoln. Because he was known to the theatre perso

Mr. Babcock turned and nodded at the building beside them. He said, “This is the Petersen House, which at that time was a boardinghouse. They brought President Lincoln over here, where he was attended to by his doctors throughout the night. Word spread quickly. A crowd gathered, and federal troops were used to keep people away from the house. President Lincoln died here on the morning of April 15, 1865.”

Enough of the lecture. They finally crossed the street and entered Ford’s Theatre.

After two hours, Theo had had enough of the Lincoln killing. It was certainly interesting and all that, and he appreciated the historical importance, but it was time to move on. The coolest thing was down in the museum, under the stage, where they displayed the actual gun Booth used.

It was almost four thirty when they emerged onto 10th Street and headed back to the Metro Center Station. The traffic was even heavier, the sidewalks more crowded. Their train was packed with commuters headed home and seemed to move a lot slower. Theo was standing in the middle of the car, in a crowd, with Chase and April close by, as the train rocked and clicked along the tracks. He glanced around him at the glum faces of the commuters; no one was smiling. They all looked tired. He wasn’t sure where he would live when he grew up, but he didn’t think it would be in a big city. Strattenburg seemed the perfect size. Not too big, not too small. No traffic jams. No angry horn blowing. No crowded sidewalks. He didn’t want to ride a train to and from work.

A man seated tightly between two women lowered his newspaper as he flipped a page. He was less than ten feet away from Theo.

He looked familiar, oddly familiar. Theo took a deep breath and managed to wiggle between two men bunched together with the others. A few feet closer now, and he could see the man’s face.

He’d seen it before, but where? There was something different about it, maybe the hair was darker, maybe the reading glasses were new. Suddenly, it struck Theo like a brick against the head: The face belonged to Pete Duffy.

Pete Duffy? The most wanted man in the history of Strattenburg and Stratten County. Number seven on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted. The man who’d been accused of murdering his wife, had gone to trial in Strattenburg, in front of Judge Henry Gantry, a trial that Theo and his classmates had actually watched. The man who’d barely escaped a conviction when Judge Gantry declared a mistrial. The man who’d fled town in the middle of the night and had not been heard from since.

The man lowered the newspaper again as he flipped another page. He glanced around as Theo ducked behind another commuter. They had exchanged stares just after the trial.

Duffy had a mustache now, one sprinkled with gray whiskers. His face disappeared again behind the newspaper.

Theo was paralyzed with uncertainty. He had no idea what to do. The train stopped and more commuters piled on. It stopped again at the Dupont Circle Station. The Woodley Park Station was next. Duffy showed no signs of getting off. He did not appear to have a briefcase or bag or satchel like the other commuters. Theo squirmed his way down the train, putting a few more feet between himself and his classmates. Chase was lost in another world, as usual. April could not be seen. He could hear Mr. Babcock tell the students to get ready to get off. Theo moved farther away.

At the Woodley Park Station, the train stopped and the doors flew open. More commuters rushed on as the students scrambled to get off. In the melee, no one noticed that Theo was still on the train. The doors closed and it took off again. He kept his eyes on Pete Duffy, who was ducking behind the newspaper, probably a habit now. At the Cleveland Park Station, a few more passengers got on. Theo sent a text message to Chase explaining that he had been unable to get off, and that he was okay. He’d simply catch another train back to Woodley Park. Chase called immediately but Theo kept his phone on mute. He was sure Mr. Babcock was panicked. He would return the call in just a few minutes.

Theo began toying with his cell phone, as if he might be sending texts or playing games. He had the camera on, the video, and he was sca