The Summons by John Grisham

Thriller & Suspense, John Grisham Leave a comment 360 Views

Categories	Thrillers & Suspense
Author	John Grisham
Publisher	Arrow (January 1, 2011)
Language	English
Paperback	402 pages
Item Weight	9.8 ounces
Dimensions	5.08 x 0.94 x 7.8 inches

I. Book introduction

The Summons is a legal thriller novel by noted American author John Grisham which was released in February 2002.

#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • A pillar of the community who towered over local law and politics for forty years, Judge Atlee is now a shadow of his former self—a sick, lonely old man who has withdrawn to his sprawling ancestral home in Clanton, Mississippi.

Knowing that the end is near, Judge Atlee has issued a summons for his two sons to return to Clanton to discuss his estate. Ray Atlee is the elder, a Virginia law professor, newly single, still enduring the aftershocks of a surprise divorce. Forrest is Ray’s younger brother, the family’s black sheep.

The summons is typed by the Judge himself, on his handsome old stationery, and gives the date and time for Ray and Forrest to appear in his study. Ray reluctantly heads south to his hometown, to the place he now prefers to avoid. But the family meeting does not take place. The Judge dies too soon, and in doing so leaves behind a shocking secret known only to Ray . . . and perhaps to someone else.

Plot

The main character, Ray Atlee, is a law professor with a good salary at the University of Virginia. He has a brother, Forrest, and a father, known to many as Judge Reuben V. Atlee. Ray is sent to his father’s house in Clanton, Mississippi, to discuss issues regarding the old man’s will and estate. To do this, Ray has to go to fictional Ford County, Mississippi, the setting for four of John Grisham’s other books including A Time To Kill. When he finds his father dead in the study, Ray discovers a sum of over $3 million in the house, money which is not part of Judge Atlee’s will. Ray immediately thinks the money is “dirty” because his father could not possibly have made so much money in his career.

Assuming that he is the only one who knows about the money, Ray decides to take it without making it officially part of the estate, and does not tell anyone about it: he knows that if he made it a part of the estate, taxes would take most of the money. But later reality proves otherwise. Ray is being followed; someone else knows about the money. After his own investigations into the roots of the money and the identity of his shadow—including trips to casinos and shady meetings with prominent southern lawyers—he eventually discovers that Forrest has the money. He finds Forrest in a drug rehab compound and confronts him. At the end both part, with Forrest telling Ray that he will contact him in a year.

Editorial Reviews

“The Summons ranks as my absolute favorite in many years…[with] an ending too delicious and morally instructive to give away.”—USA Today

“Should you answer this summons? You bet.”—New Orleans Times-Picayune

“Grisham has grown more comfortable with his voice while expanding its range. . . . The Summons is more than a . . . return to form; it marks out the rich literary territory Grisham has begun to occupy.”—Los Angeles Times

“A master of the legal suspense thriller.”—Richmond-Times Dispatch

“A pleasure to read…a good yarn.”—The Washington Post

About John Grisham

John Grisham (born February 8, 1955 in Jonesboro, Arkansas) is an American novelist, lawyer and former member of the 7th district of the Mississippi House of Representatives, known for his popular legal thrillers. According to the American Academy of Achievement, Grisham has written 28 consecutive number-one fiction bestsellers, and his books have sold 300 million copies worldwide. Along with Tom Clancy and J. K. Rowling, Grisham is one of only three authors to have sold two million copies on a first printing.

Grisham graduated from Mississippi State University and earned a Juris Doctor from the University of Mississippi School of Law in 1981. He practised criminal law for about a decade and served in the Mississippi House of Representatives from 1983 to 1990.

Grisham’s first novel, A Time to Kill, was published in June 1989, four years after he began writing it. Grisham’s first bestseller, The Firm, sold more than seven million copies. The book was adapted into a 1993 feature film of the same name, starring Tom Cruise, and a 2012 TV series which continues the story ten years after the events of the film and novel. Seven of his other novels have also been adapted into films: The Chamber, The Client, A Painted House, The Pelican Brief, The Rainmaker, The Runaway Jury, and Skipping Christmas.

Grisham is a two-time winner of the Harper Lee Prize for Legal Fiction and was honored with the Library of Congress Creative Achievement Award for Fiction.

When he’s not writing, Grisham serves on the board of directors of the Innocence Project and of Centurion Ministries, two national organizations dedicated to exonerating those who have been wrongfully convicted. Much of his fiction explores deep-seated problems in our criminal justice system.

John Girsham lives on a farm in central Virginia.

II. [Reviews] The Summons by John Grisham

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1. W review The Summons

Ray Atlee and his brother are called by their ailing father to his home,as he wants to settle his estate.But when they get there,their father dies,and three million dollars are found in his house.The money is not mentioned in the will.Ray now has to find out where all this cash came from.There is also the additional problem of what to do with it.

I’m very fond of this book,as it made me rediscover John Grisham.Years earlier,I read the Pelican Brief,and found it disappointing.When I picked up The Summons,I had very low expectations.But the book surprised me,it was a real page turner.Very suspenseful,and very hard to put down.It made me a Grisham fan.Only the ending is not as good as the rest of the book,otherwise this would have earned five stars.

2. STEPHEN review The Summons

I’m surprised to see how many readers were disappointed with this book since I thoroughly enjoyed it. Maybe the plot was a bit thin and predictable, but Grisham’s writing style is so smooth and easy to read that I was able to consume this book in two sittings. It was like I was able to sit down and visit with an old friend. Perhaps some other readers confused this familiarity with boredom.

It all starts when law professor Ray Atlee and his prodigal brother, Forrest, are summoned home by their ailing father to settle his estate. But, by the time Ray arrives, his father is already dead. The will is simple enough: the estate is to be divided equally between the two sons. However, Ray discovers something he hadn’t planned on– $3 million in cash stashed in the father’s house. It turns out that Ray isn’t the only one who knows about this fortune; someone else is after the money and won’t hesitate to remove Ray from the picture. The remainder of the book is devoted to investigating the source of the cash and trying to discover who the other party is that wants it.

Some better proofreading would have made this an easier book to read since there are some glaring errors that should have been caught. But, all in all, an enjoyable, suspensful book. I will continue reading Grisham.

3. JAY SCHUTT review The Summons

What would you do if you went to your father’s house, found him dead and then discovered 3 million dollars in cash stashed away and knew it wasn’t covered in the will? Keep it, tell your drug-addled brother and split it or call the authorities.

That was the dilemma that confronted Ray. Not as easy as 1-2-3 especially when someone else knows about the money and will kill to get it.

A very good legal thriller from the guy who does it best.

Recommended.

4. LA TONYA JORDAN review The Summons

Awesome read with a twist ending. Judge Ruben Vincent Atlee has died. He was the chancellor of Ford and the surrounding counties for Clanton, Mississippi for forty years. He was well received, respected, admired, feared, loved, and hated. His two sons Ray and Forrest expected to arrive in their home town to discuss their father’s will with him, only to find him dead and a bookshelf of over three million dollars. This is where the adventure begins. Where did the money come from? How did his father acquire such a large sum of money? Is the money illegal? Who knows about this money? Should Ray/Forrest include this money in their father’s estate or just keep it? Continue to read to find out how often Ray moves the money between Charlottesville and Clanton. This is a witty novel. Enjoy the journey.

Quote:

Vicki’s departure from his life was so well planned and her execution of it was so cold-blooded that Ray’s lawyer’s first comment was, “Give it up,pal.”

“Don’t Be. There’s not much to discuss, nothing to fight over, so it’ll probably be ugly.”

“I don’t lie. I cheat and bribe, but I don’t lie. “

5. SHARON HUETHER review The Summons

Judge Atlee, a retired Judge in Clanton, Mississippi requested his sons Forrest, the black sheep and Ray the law professor by letter to visit him on Sunday afternoon at 5 pm to discuss the details of his estate.

Ray is right on time. Upon entering the home. Ray finds his father lying on the couch, dead. Looking around the room Ray finds something shocking. Money, all in one hundred dollar denominations in old stationery boxes.

When Forrest arrives an hour later. The money has already been put in black trash bags and shoved into a broom closet. Ray and Forrest look at the Will. All of their fathers assets are to be divided equally.

After the funeral the brother went their separate ways.
Ray did a lot of investigating as to where all the money came from. Dirty money he called it.

Ray was beaning watched and his apartment was broken into twice. Nothing was taken. He was feeling the heat of his knowledge.

A series of bad things happened. An airplane he co-owned with others was set on fire. His father’s old home was burned down. His brother disappeared to a rehab center in Montana.
Where did the three million go to?

I loved all the suspense.

6. CONNIE HENDRICKX review The Summons

Judge Atlee was dying and summoned his two sons, Ray and Forrest with an invitation, “Please make arrangements to appear in my study on Sunday, May 7, at 5 P.M. to discuss the administration of my estate. Sincerely, Reuben V. Atlee.”

Ray thought he was in Clanton before Forrest, and went to the study to find that the Judge had died. He looked around for some papers, but instead found 106 thousand dollars. He hid it in the broom closet until he could think what to do with it. His brother Forrest had a drinking and drug problem and had been in and out of rehabs which the Judge always paid for. And then he continued his drinking and drug problem until the next rehab, so Ray didn’t think he should tell him about the money. Also, he knew the Judge didn’t make that kind of money, and couldn’t save that much, either. Where did he get that kind of money?

As the story continues, the money takes priority, the estate is settled, but Ray is usually in a panic because he kept the money in the truck of his car. This goes on for awhile; Ray finds out that his father gambled so Ray tried his had at it, too. He was nervous about the money, and it was too much to put in a bank. Eventually, Forrest drinks too much and ends up in rehab again. There is a great deal of intrigue as Ray’s home is ransacked, and he is followed, and harassed. Their family home burns down, and the money is missing. Later, when Forrest is in a very expensive rehab, Ray goes to visit him, and finds out that he had been with his father several days before Ray got there, and helped him with the morphine pump. He also knew about the money before Ray got there. He hired people to scare his brother. and got the money away from Ray. The end discussion was that Ray thought Forrest would waste it on booze and drugs. Forrest was wary of Ray because he gambled with some of the money, and looked at airplanes to buy so he would spend it faster than Forrest would. They tried to reach an agreement after he left Rehab but Forrest remarked that he still was a Professor making a substantial living. Ray suggested they share it, but nothing was decided at the end.

The money was given to the Judge for a favor he did for someone, and they put the money in a bag and left it at his home.

7. JUDY D review The Summons

My husband and I are both JG fans and have all his books. I enjoyed this one, despite the opinions of many of the reviewers who have posted. It was different and I found it quite humorous. We were iced in yesterday and it was a nice way to spend the afternoon. There are times when it’s not my goal to have to fill my mind with ultra plotting and mind boggling suspense and this one just fit the bill and I thought the end, though predictable, was a fine “touche”. So, read at your own risk. Obviously many of us did not enjoy it but then again, many did. I, for one, was not disappointed.

8. FATEMA review The Summons

When I first looked at the book, I first noticed a dull scene of a car driving to infinity as the sun reached the end of the horizon. But, as I read through the book, I grew more interested in the plot and just couldn’t put down the book. I found this book unique in its content and also the characters seemed so life-like. The book I am talking about is “The Summons” by a wonderful author named John Grisham.

I give this book a decent four stars because of its surprising characters and powerful storyline that has a fascinating plot that has all the characters entangled in a complex situation. The part of the story when Ray plans to transfer the money into his car literally gave me chills down my spine. This book is a wonderful piece presented by Grisham in which he has made the story in such a way that it makes you feel like you’re part of the plot yourself! By hearing the story in such a way of a dying father with two sons, one may think of how melodramatic this story would be. But, the twists and turns introduced in the book by Grisham compel you to think twice. He has organized the characters well enough and has narrated the mystery of the money with great dexterity.

I enjoyed reading this book and I strongly believe that John Grisham knows how to create the best storylines ever!

9. DELE HAYNES review The Summons

The Summons by John Grishom (novel – audible) It was while listening to Sycamore Row that I recognized some of the same names of the characters because my daughter and I were listening to The Summons on our travels. Turns out that The Summons is the third book that takes place in Clanton

MS. Judge Atlee, has summoned his sons to come home in Clanton because he is terminally ill. You might remember Judge Atlee, he was the judge in Carl Lee Haley’s trial in A Time to Kill. He was also the judge who presides over the trial about the two wills in Sycamore Row. In that book, he was already quite ill. We were briefly introduced to his sons, but don’t know yet that there is no love lost between father and sons.

With the end in sight, Judge Atlee issues a summons for both sons to return home to Clanton, to discuss the details of his estate. Ray arrives first to find his father has already past. Forrest, who soon follows, doesn’t want to deal with the arrangements and he leaves it all up to Ray. In inspecting his father’s study, Ray finds a big surprise…over three millions dollars in cash. This leads Ray on a search of where did the money come from and what to do with it. Ray thinks he’s the only person who knows about the cash, but soon finds out there is someone else out there who knows.

In true Grisham style we are taken on a great romp around the south trying to learn how his father came by all the money and who could possibly know that it exists. It’s always nice to have reoccurring characters in books, it make it feel as if the story is longer.

10. CAROL JONES CAMPBELL review The Summons

This is a great book. I love a good courtroom. Highly recommend.

III. [Quote] The Summons by John Grisham

The best book quotes from The Summons by John Grisham

“him a deal, give him twenty thousand in marked bills to buy coke from his supplier, then catch the bigger fish holding the government’s money.” “What if you don’t catch the crook?” Ray asked, and in doing so could not help but think of his departed father. “That’s the second way, and it’s much more difficult. Once the money is lifted out of circulation by the Federal Reserve, a sample of it is routinely scanned.”

“in the morning.” “Do oak, forget that bronze and copper crap. We buried Momma last year in oak and it was the prettiest damned thang I’d ever seen. Magargel can get one out of Tupelo in two hours. And forget the vault, too. They’re just rip-offs. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, bury ’em and let ’em rot is the only way to go. The Episcopalians do it right.” Ray was a little dazed by the torrent of advice, but was thankful nonetheless.”

“Greed is a strange animal”

Vicki’s departure from his life was so well planned and her execution of it was so cold-blooded that Ray’s lawyer’s first comment was, “Give it up,pal.”

“Don’t Be. There’s not much to discuss, nothing to fight over, so it’ll probably be ugly.”

“I don’t lie. I cheat and bribe, but I don’t lie. “

Excerpted from The Summons by John Grisham

Chapter One – The Summons

It came by mail, regular postage, the old-fashioned way since the Judge was almost eighty and distrusted modern devices. Forget e-mail and even faxes. He didn’t use an answering machine and had never been fond of the telephone. He pecked out his letters with both index fingers, one feeble key at a time, hunched over his old Underwood manual on a rolltop desk under the portrait of Nathan Bedford Forrest. The Judge’s grandfather had fought with Forrest at Shiloh and throughout the Deep South, and to him no figure in history was more revered. For thirty-two years, the Judge had quietly refused to hold court on July 13, Forrest’s birthday.

It came with another letter, a magazine, and two invoices, and was routinely placed in the law school mailbox of Professor Ray Atlee. He recognized it immediately since such envelopes had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember. It was from his father, a man he too called the Judge.

Professor Atlee studied the envelope, uncertain whether he should open it right there or wait a moment. Good news or bad, he never knew with the Judge, though the old man was dying and good news had been rare. It was thin and appeared to contain only one sheet of paper; nothing unusual about that. The Judge was frugal with the written word, though he’d once been known for his windy lectures from the bench.

It was a business letter, that much was certain. The Judge was not one for small talk, hated gossip and idle chitchat, whether written or spoken. Ice tea with him on the porch would be a refighting of the Civil War, probably at Shiloh, where he would once again lay all blame for the Confederate defeat at the shiny, untouched boots of General Pierre G. T. Beauregard, a man he would hate even in heaven, if by chance they met there.

He’d be dead soon. Seventy-nine years old with cancer in his stomach. He was overweight, a diabetic, a heavy pipe smoker, had a bad heart that had survived three attacks, and a host of lesser ailments that had tormented him for twenty years and were now finally closing in for the kill. The pain was constant. During their last phone call three weeks earlier, a call initiated by Ray because the Judge thought long distance was a rip-off, the old man sounded weak and strained. They had talked for less than two minutes.

The return address was gold-embossed: Chancellor Reuben V. Atlee, 25th Chancery District, Ford County Courthouse, Clanton, Mississippi. Ray slid the envelope into the magazine and began walking. Judge Atlee no longer held the office of chancellor. The voters had retired him nine years earlier, a bitter defeat from which he would never recover. Thirty-two years of diligent service to his people, and they tossed him out in favor of a younger man with radio and television ads. The Judge had refused to campaign. He claimed he had too much work to do, and, more important, the people knew him well and if they wanted to reelect him then they would do so. His strategy had seemed arrogant to many. He carried Ford County but got shellacked in the other five.

It took three years to get him out of the courthouse. His office on the second floor had survived a fire and had missed two renovations. The Judge had not allowed them to touch it with paint or hammers. When the county supervisors finally convinced him that he had to leave or be evicted, he boxed up three decades’ worth of useless files and notes and dusty old books and took them home and stacked them in his study. When the study was full, he lined them down the hallways into the dining room and even the foyer.

Ray nodded to a student who was seated in the hall. Outside his office, he spoke to a colleague. Inside, he locked the door behind him and placed the mail in the center of his desk. He took off his jacket, hung it on the back of the door, stepped over a stack of thick law books he’d been stepping over for half a year, and then to himself uttered his daily vow to organize the place.

The room was twelve by fifteen, with a small desk and a small sofa, both covered with enough work to make Ray seem like a very busy man. He was not. For the spring semester he was teaching one section of antitrust. And he was supposed to be writing a book, another drab, tedious volume on monopolies that would be read by no one but would add handsomely to his pedigree. He had tenure, but like all serious professors he was ruled by the “publish or perish” dictum of academic life.

He sat at his desk and shoved papers out of the way.

The envelope was addressed to Professor N. Ray Atlee, University of Virginia School of Law, Charlottesville, Virginia. The e’s and o’s were smudged together. A new ribbon had been needed for a decade. The Judge didn’t believe in zip codes either.

The N was for Nathan, after the general, but few people knew it. One of their uglier fights had been over the son’s decision to drop Nathan altogether and plow through life simply as Ray.

The Judge’s letters were always sent to the law school, never to his son’s apartment in downtown Charlottesville. The Judge liked titles and important addresses, and he wanted folks in Clanton, even the postal workers, to know that his son was a professor of law. It was unnecessary. Ray had been teaching (and writing) for thirteen years, and those who mattered in Ford County knew it.

He opened the envelope and unfolded a single sheet of paper. It too was grandly embossed with the Judge’s name and former title and address, again minus the zip code. The old man probably had an unlimited supply of the stationery.

It was addressed to both Ray and his younger brother, Forrest, the only two offspring of a bad marriage that had ended in 1969 with the death of their mother. As always, the message was brief:

Please make arrangements to appear in my study on Sunday, May 7, at 5 p.m., to discuss the administration of my estate. Sincerely, Reuben V. Atlee.

The distinctive signature had shrunk and looked unsteady. For years it had been emblazoned across orders and decrees that had changed countless lives. Decrees of divorce, child custody, termination of parental rights, adoptions. Orders settling will contests, election contests, land disputes, annexation fights. The Judge’s autograph had been authoritative and well known; now it was the vaguely familiar scrawl of a very sick old man.

Sick or not, though, Ray knew that he would be present in his father’s study at the appointed time. He had just been summoned, and as irritating as it was, he had no doubt that he and his brother would drag themselves before His Honor for one more lecture. It was typical of the Judge to pick a day that was convenient for him without consulting anybody else.

It was the nature of the Judge, and perhaps most judges for that matter, to set dates for hearings and deadlines with little regard for the convenience of others. Such heavy-handedness was learned and even required when dealing with crowded dockets, reluctant litigants, busy lawyers, lazy lawyers. But the Judge had run his family in pretty much the same manner as he’d run his courtroom, and that was the principal reason Ray Atlee was teaching law in Virginia and not practicing it in Mississippi.

He read the summons again, then put it away, on top of the pile of current matters to deal with. He walked to the window and looked out at the courtyard where everything was in bloom. He wasn’t angry or bitter, just frustrated that his father could once again dictate so much. But the old man was dying, he told himself. Give him a break. There wouldn’t be many more trips home.

The Judge’s estate was cloaked with mystery. The principal asset was the house–an antebellum hand-me-down from the same Atlee who’d fought with General Forrest. On a shady street in old Atlanta it would be worth over a million dollars, but not in Clanton. It sat in the middle of five neglected acres three blocks off the town square. The floors sagged, the roof leaked, paint had not touched the walls in Ray’s lifetime. He and his brother could sell it for perhaps a hundred thousand dollars, but the buyer would need twice that to make it livable. Neither would ever live there; in fact, Forrest had not set foot in the house in many years.

The house was called Maple Run, as if it were some grand estate with a staff and a social calendar. The last worker had been Irene the maid. She’d died four years earlier and since then no one had vacuumed the floors or touched the furniture with polish. The Judge paid a local felon twenty dollars a week to cut the grass, and he did so with great reluctance. Eighty dollars a month was robbery, in his learned opinion.

When Ray was a child, his mother referred to their home as Maple Run. They never had dinners at their home, but rather at Maple Run. Their address was not the Atlees on Fourth Street, but instead it was Maple Run on Fourth Street. Few other folks in Clanton had names for their homes.

She died from an aneurysm and they laid her on a table in the front parlor. For two days the town stopped by and paraded across the front porch, through the foyer, through the parlor for last respects, then to the dining room for punch and cookies. Ray and Forrest hid in the attic and cursed their father for tolerating such a spectacle. That was their mother lying down there, a pretty young woman now pale and stiff in an open coffin.

Forrest had always called it Maple Ruin. The red and yellow maples that once lined the street had died of some unknown disease. Their rotted stumps had never been cleared. Four huge oaks shaded the front lawn. They shed leaves by the ton, far too many for anyone to rake and gather. And at least twice a year the oaks would lose a branch that would fall and crash somewhere onto the house, where it might or might not get removed. The house stood there year after year, decade after decade, taking punches but never falling.

It was still a handsome house, a Georgian with columns, once a monument to those who’d built it, and now a sad reminder of a declining family. Ray wanted nothing to do with it. For him the house was filled with unpleasant memories and each trip back depressed him. He certainly couldn’t afford the financial black hole of maintaining an estate that ought to be bulldozed. Forrest would burn it before he owned it.

The Judge, however, wanted Ray to take the house and keep it in the family. This had been discussed in vague terms over the past few years. Ray had never mustered the courage to ask, “What family?” He had no children. There was an ex-wife but no prospect of a current one. Same for Forrest, except he had a dizzying collection of ex-girlfriends and a current housing arrangement with Ellie, a three-hundred-pound painter and potter twelve years his senior.

It was a biological miracle that Forrest had produced no children, but so far none had been discovered.

The Atlee bloodline was thinning to a sad and inevitable halt, which didn’t bother Ray at all. He was living life for himself, not for the benefit of his father or the family’s glorious past. He returned to Clanton only for funerals.

The Judge’s other assets had never been discussed. The Atlee family had once been wealthy, but long before Ray. There had been land and cotton and slaves and railroads and banks and politics, the usual Confederate portfolio of holdings that, in terms of cash, meant nothing in the late twentieth century. It did, however, bestow upon the Atlees the status of “family money.”

By the time Ray was ten he knew his family had money. His father was a judge and his home had a name, and in rural Mississippi this meant he was indeed a rich kid. Before she died his mother did her best to convince Ray and Forrest that they were better than most folks. They lived in a mansion. They were Presbyterians. They vacationed in Florida, every third year. They occasionally went to the Peabody Hotel in Memphis for dinner. Their clothes were nicer.

Then Ray was accepted at Stanford. His bubble burst when the Judge said bluntly, “I can’t afford it.”

“What do you mean?” Ray had asked.

“I mean what I said. I can’t afford Stanford.”

“But I don’t understand.”

“Then I’ll make it plain. Go to any college you want. But if you go to Sewanee, then I’ll pay for it.”

Ray went to Sewanee, without the baggage of family money, and was supported by his father, who provided an allowance that barely covered tuition, books, board, and fraternity dues. Law school was at Tulane, where Ray survived by waiting tables at an oyster bar in the French Quarter.

For thirty-two years, the Judge had earned a chancellor’s salary, which was among the lowest in the country. While at Tulane Ray read a report on judicial compensation, and he was saddened to learn that Mississippi judges were earning fifty-two thousand dollars a year when the national average was ninety-five thousand.

The Judge lived alone, spent little on the house, had no bad habits except for his pipe, and he preferred cheap tobacco. He drove an old Lincoln, ate bad food but lots of it, and wore the same black suits he’d been wearing since the fifties. His vice was charity. He saved his money, then he gave it away.

No one knew how much money the Judge donated annually. An automatic ten percent went to the Presbyterian Church. Sewanee got two thousand dollars a year, same for the Sons of Confederate Veterans. Those three gifts were carved in granite. The rest were not.

Judge Atlee gave to anyone who would ask. A crippled child in need of crutches. An all-star team traveling to a state tournament. A drive by the Rotary Club to vaccinate babies in the Congo. A shelter for stray dogs and cats in Ford County. A new roof for Clanton’s only museum.

The list was endless, and all that was necessary to receive a check was to write a short letter and ask for it. Judge Atlee always sent money and had been doing so ever since Ray and Forrest left home.

Ray could not see him now, lost in the clutter and dust of his rolltop, pecking out short notes on his Underwood and sticking them in his chancellor’s envelopes with scarcely readable checks drawn on the First National Bank of Clanton–fifty dollars here, a hundred dollars there, a little for everyone until it was all gone.

The estate would not be complicated because there would be so little inventory. The ancient law books, threadbare furniture, painful family photos and mementos, long forgotten files and papers–all a bunch of rubbish that would make an impressive bonfire. He and Forrest would sell the house for whatever it might bring and be quite happy to salvage anything from the last of the Atlee family money.

He should call Forrest, but those calls were always easy to put off. Forrest was a different set of issues and problems, much more complicated than a dying, reclusive old father hell-bent on giving away his money. Forrest was a living, walking disaster, a boy thirty-six whose mind had been deadened by every legal and illegal substance known to American culture.

What a family, Ray mumbled to himself.

….

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