Sycamore Row - John Grisham

“Please call me Jake.”
“Okay. Jake. I saw that fiasco yesterday, and I came back this morning to look
through the court file in the clerk’s office. That’s when I heard the rumor that they were
bringing the lawyers over from jail.”
“Your family’s lawyers.”
“Right.” She took a deep breath and spoke much slower. “That’s what I wanted to talk
to you about. Is it okay if we talk about the case?”
“Of course. Technically, we’re on the same side. It doesn’t feel that way, but for now
we’re allies.”
“Okay.” Another deep breath. “I have to talk to someone, okay? Look, Jake, I was not
here during the Hailey trial, but I heard all about it. I came home that Christmas and
there was a lot of talk about the trial and Clanton and the Klan and National Guard and
all that, and I sort of felt bad for missing the fun. But your name is well known in our
parts. My mother told me a few days ago that she felt like she could trust you. That’s not
easy for black folks, Jake, especially in a situation like this.”
“We’ve never seen a situation like this.”
“You know what I mean. With all this money being thrown around, well, we just sort
of naturally expect to get the short end.”
“I think I understand.”
“So, when we got home yesterday, there was another fight. A big one, between
Momma and Dad with a few other unwanted opinions thrown in. You see, I don’t know
everything that happened before I came home, but evidently they’ve been fighting over
some pretty serious stuff. I think my dad accused her of sleeping with Mr. Hubbard.” Her
eyes watered quickly and she stopped to wipe them. “My mother is not a whore, Jake,
she is a great woman who raised five kids practically alone. It hurts to know that so
many people around here think she somehow screwed her way into that old man’s will.
I’ll never believe it. Never. But my father is another story. They’ve been at war for
twenty years and when I was in high school I begged her to leave him. He criticizes
everything she does and now he’s criticizing her for something she didn’t do. I told him
to shut it up.” Jake handed her a tissue, but the tears were gone. She said, “Thanks.
Anyway, on one hand he accuses her of sleeping with Mr. Hubbard, and on the other
hand he’s secretly happy she did, if she did, because it might pay off. She can’t win. So,
after we got home yesterday from court, my momma tore into him about the Memphis
lawyers.”
“So he hired them?”
“Yes, he’s a big shot now, and he has to protect his asset—my momma. He’s convinced
the white folks around here will conspire to invalidate the will and keep the money. It
will all come down to race, so why not hire the biggest race baiter in these parts? And
here we are. And there he is, sitting over there in jail.”
“What do you think about that?”
“Sistrunk? He wants to be in jail right now. Got his picture in the paper with a nice
headline. Another black man wrongfully jailed by the racists in Mississippi. It’s perfect
for him. He could not have scripted it any better.”