Sycamore Row

you, Mr. Zeitler, and if you haven’t already figured things out, next time you’re here please bring a local lawyer—God knows we’ll need some more. Unless, of course, you are licensed in this state.”
    “I am, Your Honor.”
    “Very well. Next.”
    Leaning against a railing in a corner, chairless, a lawyer glancedaround and said, “Yes, Your Honor, I’m Joe Bradley Hunt with the Skole firm in Jackson, and—”
    “Which firm?”
    “Skole, Your Honor. Skole, Rumky, Ratliff, Bodini, and Zacharias.”
    “Sorry I asked. Continue.”
    “And we represent the interests of the two minor children of Ramona and Ian Dafoe, grandchildren of the deceased.”
    “Okay. Anyone else?”
    Necks craned and eyes scanned the crowd. Judge Atlee did some quick math and said, “A dozen. I count eleven lawyers so far, and there is no reason to believe there won’t be more.” He shuffled some papers and looked at the spectators in the courtroom. To his left, behind Jake and Lettie, there was a crowd of black people, including Simeon, their kids and grandkids, some cousins and aunts, Cypress, a preacher, and a lot of friends, old and new, who were there to provide moral support for Lettie as she took the first step in fighting for what was rightfully hers. To His Honor’s right, across the aisle, behind the throng of lawyers gearing up to oppose the last will, there was a crowd of white people, including Ian and Ramona and their two children; Herschel and his two kids; his ex-wife, though she was on the back row as far away as possible; Dumas Lee and another reporter; and the usual collection of courthouse regulars who rarely missed a trial or a contested hearing. Deputy Prather stood at the main door, sent there by Ozzie to hear it all and report back later. Lucien Wilbanks sat on the back row on the black side, partially hidden by a beefy young man in front of him. He and Atlee went back many years, and Lucien did not want to be a distraction.
    Minutes before they began, Jake had attempted to politely introduce himself to Herschel and Ramona, but they had rudely turned their backs. He was the enemy now, not their father. Ian in particular looked as if he might throw a punch. Their teenage children were turned out in the finest preppy fashions and gave every impression of bearing the arrogance of inherited wealth. Herschel’s two children, on the contrary, were ill-kempt and grungy. Just days earlier, the four had been too busy to attend the funeral of their beloved grandfather. Now, though, their priorities had suddenly shifted.
    Jake figured the lawyers had impressed upon the families the need for the kids to be there, to be seen, to be closely identified with theconsequences of the court’s actions. A waste of time, in his opinion, but then the stakes were high.
    At the moment, in a crowded courtroom, Jake felt very alone. Next to him, Russell Amburgh was uncooperative, hardly civil, and planning a quick exit from the proceedings. Behind him, only inches away, sat Lettie, a person he thought he could talk to. She, though, was being guarded by a couple of pit bull lawyers who were ready for an alley fight over the fortune. And these were the people on his side of the room! Across the aisle, an entire pack of hyenas was waiting to pounce.
    Judge Atlee said, “I’ve read both wills. We will proceed with the last one, the handwritten will dated October 1. A petition to probate it was filed on October 4. Mr. Brigance, you will begin the administration of the estate as required by law—posting the notification to creditors, filing a preliminary inventory, and so on. I expect this to be done promptly. Mr. Amburgh, I understand you wish to step aside.”
    Amburgh slowly stood and said, “That’s right, Judge. I have no stomach for this. As the executor I would be required to take an oath in which I swear that this is the valid last will and testament of Seth Hubbard, and I simply refuse to take that oath. I don’t like this will and I want no part of it.”
    “Mr. Brigance?”
    Jake stood next to his soon-to-be-ex-client and said, “Your Honor, Mr. Amburgh was once a lawyer and he knows the basics of probate. I will prepare an order allowing him to withdraw, and at the same time I’ll submit names for his replacement.”
    “Please make this a priority. I want the administration to proceed while we sort out other matters. Regardless of what happens to the holographic will, or the prior one, the estate of Mr. Hubbard