know Raymond. He’s tellin’ the lawyers what to do and they’re just fallin’ all over themselves.”
Without turning his head, Butch cut his eyes at Leon, and Leon returned the glance. Nothing was said because words were not necessary.
“Said his new team comes from a firm in Chicago with a thousand lawyers. Can you imagine? A thousand lawyers workin’ for Raymond. And he’s tellin’ ’em what to do.”
Another glance between driver and right-side passenger. Inez had cataracts, and her peripheral vision had declined. If she had seen the looks being passed between her two oldest, she would not have been pleased.
“Said they’ve just discovered some new evidence that shoulda been produced at trial but wasn’t because the cops and the prosecutors covered it up, and with this new evidence Raymond feels real good about gettin’ a new trial back here in Clanton, though he’s not sure he wants it here, so he might move it somewhere else. He’s thinkin’ about somewhere in the Delta because the Delta juries have more blacks and he says that blacks aremore sympathetic in cases like this. What do you thank about that, Leon?”
“There are definitely more blacks in the Delta,” Leon said. Butch grunted and mumbled, but his words were not clear.
“Said he don’t trust anyone in Ford County, especially the law and the judges. God knows they’ve never given us a break.”
Leon and Butch nodded in silent agreement. Both had been chewed up by the law in Ford County, Butch much more so than Leon. And though they had pled guilty to their crimes in negotiated deals, they had always believed they were persecuted simply because they were Graneys.
“Don’t know if I can stand another trial, though,” she said, and her words trailed off.
Leon wanted to say that Raymond’s chances of getting a new trial were worse than slim, and that he’d been making noise about a new trial for over a decade. Butch wanted to say pretty much the same thing, but he would’ve added that he was sick of Raymond’s jailhouse bullshit about lawyers and trials and new evidence and that it was past time for the boy to stop blaming everybody else and take his medicine like a man.
But neither said a word.
“Said the both of you ain’t sent him his stipends for last month,” she said. “That true?”
Five miles passed before another word was spoken.
“Ya’ll hear me up there?” Inez said. “Raymond says ya’ll ain’t mailed in his stipends for the month of June, and now it’s already July. Ya’ll forget about it?”
Leon went first, and unloaded. “Forget about it? How canwe forget about it? That’s all he talks about. I get a letter every day, sometimes two, not that I read ’em all, but every letter mentions the stipend. ‘Thanks for the money, bro.’ ‘Don’t forget the money, Leon, I’m counting on you, big brother.’ ‘Gotta have the money to pay the lawyers, you know how much those bloodsuckers can charge.’ ‘Ain’t seen the stipend this month, bro.’”
“What the hell is a stipend?” Butch shot from the right side, his voice suddenly edgy.
“A regular or fixed payment, according to Webster’s ,” Leon said.
“It’s just money, right?”
“Right.”
“So why can’t he just say something like, ‘Send me the damned money’? Or, ‘Where’s the damned money?’ Why does he have to use the fancy words?”
“We’ve had this conversation a thousand times,” Inez said.
“Well, you sent him a dictionary,” Leon said to Butch.
“That was ten years ago, at least. And he begged me for it.”
“Well, he’s still got it, still wearing it out looking for words we ain’t seen before.”
“I often wonder if his lawyers can keep up with his vocabulary,” Butch mused.
“Ya’ll’re tryin’ to change the subject up there,” Inez said. “Why didn’t you send him his stipends last month?”
“I thought I did,” Butch said without conviction.
“I don’t believe that,” she
Without turning his head, Butch cut his eyes at Leon, and Leon returned the glance. Nothing was said because words were not necessary.
“Said his new team comes from a firm in Chicago with a thousand lawyers. Can you imagine? A thousand lawyers workin’ for Raymond. And he’s tellin’ ’em what to do.”
Another glance between driver and right-side passenger. Inez had cataracts, and her peripheral vision had declined. If she had seen the looks being passed between her two oldest, she would not have been pleased.
“Said they’ve just discovered some new evidence that shoulda been produced at trial but wasn’t because the cops and the prosecutors covered it up, and with this new evidence Raymond feels real good about gettin’ a new trial back here in Clanton, though he’s not sure he wants it here, so he might move it somewhere else. He’s thinkin’ about somewhere in the Delta because the Delta juries have more blacks and he says that blacks aremore sympathetic in cases like this. What do you thank about that, Leon?”
“There are definitely more blacks in the Delta,” Leon said. Butch grunted and mumbled, but his words were not clear.
“Said he don’t trust anyone in Ford County, especially the law and the judges. God knows they’ve never given us a break.”
Leon and Butch nodded in silent agreement. Both had been chewed up by the law in Ford County, Butch much more so than Leon. And though they had pled guilty to their crimes in negotiated deals, they had always believed they were persecuted simply because they were Graneys.
“Don’t know if I can stand another trial, though,” she said, and her words trailed off.
Leon wanted to say that Raymond’s chances of getting a new trial were worse than slim, and that he’d been making noise about a new trial for over a decade. Butch wanted to say pretty much the same thing, but he would’ve added that he was sick of Raymond’s jailhouse bullshit about lawyers and trials and new evidence and that it was past time for the boy to stop blaming everybody else and take his medicine like a man.
But neither said a word.
“Said the both of you ain’t sent him his stipends for last month,” she said. “That true?”
Five miles passed before another word was spoken.
“Ya’ll hear me up there?” Inez said. “Raymond says ya’ll ain’t mailed in his stipends for the month of June, and now it’s already July. Ya’ll forget about it?”
Leon went first, and unloaded. “Forget about it? How canwe forget about it? That’s all he talks about. I get a letter every day, sometimes two, not that I read ’em all, but every letter mentions the stipend. ‘Thanks for the money, bro.’ ‘Don’t forget the money, Leon, I’m counting on you, big brother.’ ‘Gotta have the money to pay the lawyers, you know how much those bloodsuckers can charge.’ ‘Ain’t seen the stipend this month, bro.’”
“What the hell is a stipend?” Butch shot from the right side, his voice suddenly edgy.
“A regular or fixed payment, according to Webster’s ,” Leon said.
“It’s just money, right?”
“Right.”
“So why can’t he just say something like, ‘Send me the damned money’? Or, ‘Where’s the damned money?’ Why does he have to use the fancy words?”
“We’ve had this conversation a thousand times,” Inez said.
“Well, you sent him a dictionary,” Leon said to Butch.
“That was ten years ago, at least. And he begged me for it.”
“Well, he’s still got it, still wearing it out looking for words we ain’t seen before.”
“I often wonder if his lawyers can keep up with his vocabulary,” Butch mused.
“Ya’ll’re tryin’ to change the subject up there,” Inez said. “Why didn’t you send him his stipends last month?”
“I thought I did,” Butch said without conviction.
“I don’t believe that,” she
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