Sycamore Row

argument, then quickly remembered why he was there. No sense irritating the judge again. “Sure, Judge, and thank you.”
    “You’re free to go.”
    Jake glanced at the young woman again. Tight jeans, a red sweater, well-worn yellow running shoes, short hair and stylish glasses. She appeared lean and fit and did not look like the typical twenty-five-year-old black woman in Ford County. She glanced at him and smiled.

    Thirty minutes later, she was standing before Roxy’s desk, politely inquiring as to whether she might have a few minutes with Mr. Brigance. Name please? Portia Lang, daughter of Lettie. Mr. Brigance was very busy, but Roxy knew this might be important. She made her wait ten minutes, then found a gap in his schedule.
    Jake welcomed her into his office. He offered coffee but she declined. They sat in a corner, Jake in an ancient leather chair andPortia on the sofa, as if she were there for therapy. She could not help but gaze around the big room and admire its handsome furnishings and organized clutter. She admitted that it was her first visit to a lawyer’s office. “If you’re lucky it’ll be your last,” he said and got a laugh. She was nervous and at first reluctant to say much. Her presence could be crucial, and Jake worked to make her feel welcome.
    “Tell me about yourself,” he said.
    “I know you’re busy.”
    “I have plenty of time, and your mother’s case is the most important one in this office.”
    She smiled, a nervous grin. She sat on her hands, the yellow running shoes twitching. Slowly, she began to talk. She was twenty-four, the oldest daughter, and had just left the Army after six years. She had been in Germany when she got the news that her mother had been mentioned in Mr. Hubbard’s will, though that had nothing to do with her discharge. Six years was enough. She was tired of the military and ready for civilian life. She had been a good student at Clanton High, but with her father’s sketchy work history there was no money for college. (She frowned when she talked about Simeon.) Eager to leave home, and Ford County, she joined the Army and traveled the world. She had been back now for almost a week, though she had no plans to stay in the area. She had enough credits for three years of college, wanted to finish, and she was dreaming of law school. In Germany, she had worked in the JAG Corps as a clerk and watched court-martial proceedings.
    She was staying with her parents and family, who, by the way, had moved to town. They were renting the old Sappington place, she said with a trace of pride. “I know,” Jake said. “It’s a small town. Word travels fast.” Anyway, she doubted she would stay there much longer because the house, though much larger, was a circus with relatives coming and going and people sleeping everywhere.
    Jake listened intently, waiting on an opening, certain it would come. Occasionally, he asked a question about her life, but she needed little prompting. She was warming up nicely and chattering away. Six years in the military had erased the drawl and twang and sloppy grammatical habits. Her diction was perfect, and not just by accident. She’d learned German and French in Europe and worked as a translator. Now she was studying Spanish.
    Out of habit, he wanted to take notes, but that seemed rude.
    She had gone to Parchman last weekend, to see Marvis, and he hadtold her about Jake’s visit. She talked about him for a long time and occasionally wiped a tear. He was her big brother, had always been her hero, and it was such a waste. If Simeon had been a better father, Marvis would not have gone bad. Yes, he told Portia to tell their momma to stick with Jake, said he’d talked to his lawyer, Nick Norton, who said those Memphis lawyers would screw it all up.
    “Why were you in court this morning?” Jake asked.
    “I was in court yesterday, Mr. Brigance.”
    “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