Sycamore Row

property as he pleased, regardless of his family. Others argued he wasn’t in his right mind. Lettie had her share of detractors. She was widely believed to be a loose woman who took advantage of poor old Seth.
    Jake stopped by at least once a week when the café was empty and got the lowdown from Dell. Of particular interest was a regular named Tug Whitehurst, a state meat inspector. His brother was on the jury list, though she was certain Tug had not mentioned this. He wasn’t much of a talker, but during one conversation he did side with Kerry Hull when Hull declared it was no one’s business how he left his estate. Hull was notoriously broke and in debt and everyone knew his estate would be a disaster, but this was allowed to pass without comment. At any rate, Dell thought Tug Whitehurst would be okay with Jake, but who knew about his brother?
    At this point in the case, Jake was desperate for any information about the chosen ninety-seven.
    He sat at a table with a couple of farmers and waited on his grits and toast. Bass fishing dominated the conversation, so Jake had little to offer. For at least the last three years, a great debate had raged in certain circles over whether the large-mouth bass population in Lake Chatulla was declining or increasing. Opinions were strong and loud and there appeared to be no room for compromise. Experts were plentiful. Just as the tide shifted in favor of a dwindling population, someone would land a trophy and the debate would fire up again. Jake was weary of the topic but now thankful for it nonetheless; it kept attention away from the Hubbard case.
    As he was eating, Andy Furr asked, “Say, Jake, is the trial still a go for Monday?”
    “It is.”
    “So no chance of a postponement or anything like that?”
    “I don’t see one. The prospective jurors will be there at nine and we should get started soon after. You coming?”
    “Naw, gotta work. Ya’ll expectin’ a crowd?”
    “You never know. Civil trials tend to be fairly dull. We may start off with some spectators, but I suspect they’ll disappear quickly.”
    Dell topped off his coffee and said, “The place’ll be packed and you know it. We haven’t had this much excitement since the Hailey trial.”
    “Oh, I forgot about that one,” Jake said and got a few laughs.
    Bill West said he’d heard the FBI had just raided the offices of two supervisors down in Polk County, a notoriously corrupt place, and this ignited a round of condemnation from almost everyone but Jake and Dell. It also changed the subject, and for that Jake was grateful. At that moment, facing a long weekend at the office, all he wanted was breakfast.

    Portia arrived around 9:00, and they had a coffee together on the balcony as the town came to life around them. She reported that she’d had an early breakfast with Lettie, who was nervous, even fragile, and terrified of the trial. Lettie was exhausted from the strain of living in a house packed with relatives, and of trying to work part-time, and of trying to ignore the fact that her husband was in jail for killing two boys. Add a pending divorce and a gut-wrenching will contest, and Lettie was understandably a wreck.
    Portia admitted she was exhausted too. She was working longhours at the office and sleeping little. Jake was sympathetic, but only to a point. Litigation often required eighteen-hour days and lost weekends, and if Portia was serious about becoming a lawyer she needed a good dose of the pressure. In the past two weeks, they had pushed each other into memorizing all ninety-seven names on the jury list. If Jake said “R,” then Portia responded, “Six. Rady, Rakestraw, Reece, Riley, Robbins, and Robard.” If Portia said “W,” then Jake responded, “Three. Wampler, Whitehurst, Whitten.” Back and forth, the mental contests raged throughout each day.
    Jury selection in Mississippi was normally a one-day ordeal, at most. Jake was continually fascinated by trials in other states where it took two weeks or a month to pick a jury. He could not fathom such a system; neither could Mississippi judges. They were dead serious about selecting fair and impartial panels; they just didn’t waste time.
    Speed would be crucial. Quick decisions would be required. The lawyers on both sides would not have much time to think about names or to look them up in some batch of research. It was imperative that they know the names and quickly put them with faces. Jake was determined to know every