Sycamore Row - John Grisham

the law than you do anyway. And, I want to be in that courtroom.”
This, for the second time, and Jake knew it would not go away. The courtroom was a
large, stately room with different sections and lots of seating. Did he want to sit with
the spectators and watch the show? Or was he thinking of a seat at the table with the
other lawyers, because if he was then Jake’s life was about to become messy. If Lucien
wanted to be a lawyer again, he would be required to suffer through the ordeal of the
bar exam. If successful, he would have a license to practice, which, of course, would
usher him back into Jake’s professional life.
The image of Lucien sitting at counsel table, not fifteen feet from the jury box, was
frightening. To most whites, he was a toxic legend, a crazy old drunk who had
embarrassed a once proud family and now shacked up with his housekeeper.
“We’ll see,” Jake said cautiously.