Sycamore Row

answer truthfully because you’re under oath. The lawyers would take turns with their questioning. If you need a break, just say so. The court reporter would take down every word, and the video camera would record the entire deposition. If for some reason Lettie was not able to testify at trial, the video would be used as evidence.
    The instructions were necessary, and then they were not. Jake, Portia, and Lucien had rehearsed with Lettie for hours in the conference room at the office. She was well prepared, though in a deposition it was impossible to predict what might be discussed. At trial, all testimony must be relevant. Not so in a deposition, which often turned into a prolonged fishing expedition.
    Be polite. Be concise. Don’t volunteer. If you don’t know, then you don’t know. Remember the camera catches everything. And I’ll be right beside you for protection, Jake had said over and over. Portia had gone to the attic and found dozens of old depositions that she had spent hours poring over. She understood the technicalities, the strategies, and the pitfalls. She and her mother had talked for hours on the back porch of the old Sappington house.
    Lettie was as prepared as possible. After she was sworn by the court reporter, Wade Lanier introduced himself with a sappy smile and began the questioning. “Let’s start with your family,” he said. Names, current residences, birth dates, birthplaces, education, employment, children, grandchildren, parents, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles. Lettie and Portia had rehearsed thoroughly and the answers came easily. Lanier paused at one point when he realized Portia was her daughter. Jake explained, “She’s an intern in my office. Paid.” This caused someconcern around the table. Stillman Rush finally asked, “Does this pose a conflict, Jake?”
    Jake had thought it over long ago. “Not at all. I represent the estate. Portia is not a beneficiary under the will. I see no conflict. Do you?”
    “Is she going to be a witness?” Lester Chilcott asked.
    “No. She was away in the Army for the past six years.”
    Zack Zeitler asked, “Will she have access to certain information her mother perhaps should not see?”
    “Such as?”
    “I can’t give you an example right now. I’m just speculating. I’m not saying there’s a conflict here, Jake, I’m just sort of caught off guard.”
    “Have you informed Judge Atlee?” Wade Lanier asked.
    “I did last week, and he approved.”
    End of conversation. Wade Lanier took off again with questions about Lettie’s parents, and grandparents. His questions were soft and easy, quite conversational, as if he were truly interested in where her maternal grandparents once lived and what they did for a living. After an hour, Jake fought the temptation to daydream. It was important for him to take notes in the event another lawyer, hours from now, inadvertently stepped into the same territory.
    Back to Lettie. She finished high school in 1959 in Hamilton, Alabama, at the old colored school. She ran away to Memphis and met Simeon. They married right away and Marvis was born the following year.
    Wade Lanier spent some time on Marvis: his criminal record, convictions, incarceration. Lettie got choked up and wiped her cheeks, but did not break down. Next came Phedra and her problems: two children born out of wedlock, Lettie’s first two grandkids; an employment history that was sketchy at best. Phedra was currently living at home; in fact she’d never really left. Her two children had different fathers who were out of the picture.
    Portia flinched with questions about her older brother and her sister. These were not secrets, but they were not openly discussed either. The family whispered about such matters, yet here they were being kicked about by a bunch of white men, strangers all.
    At 10:30, they broke for fifteen minutes and everyone scattered. The lawyers ran to find phones. Portia and Lettie headed for the ladies’ room. A clerk brought in a fresh pot of coffee and a tray of store-bought cookies. The tables already resembled a landfill.
    When they resumed, Stillman Rush took the handoff and dwelledon Simeon, whose family was more complicated. Lettie admitted she did not know as many details about his ancestors. His work history was filled with gaps, but she did recall stints as a truck driver, dozer operator, pulpwood cutter, painter, and brick mason’s helper. He’d been arrested a couple of times, the