'What makes you think they'd want him?'
'Good point.'
'Seriously.'
'Sam and I have not reached that point yet.'
'Do you think he'll want to be buried here? In Ford County?'
'I don't know. We haven't discussed it, for obvious reasons. There's still hope.'
'How much hope?'
'A trace. Enough to keep fighting.'
They left the cemetery on foot, and walked along a tranquil street with worn sidewalks and ancient oaks. The homes were old and well painted, with long porches and cats resting on the front steps. Children raced by on bikes and skateboards, and old people rocked in their porch swings and waved slowly. 'These are my old stomping grounds, Adam,' Lee said as they walked aimlessly along. Her hands were stuck deep in denim pockets, her eyes moistened with memories that were at once sad and pleasant. She looked at each house as if she'd stayed there as a child and could remember the little girls who'd been her friends. She could hear the giggles and laughs, the silly games and the serious fights of ten-year-olds.
'Were those happy times?' Adam asked.
'I don't know. We never lived in town, so we were known as country kids. I always longed for one of these houses, with friends all around and stores a few blocks away. The town kids considered themselves to be a bit better than us, but it wasn't much of a problem. My best friends lived here, and I spent many hours playing in these streets, climbing these trees. Those were good times, I guess. The memories from the house in the country are not pleasant.'
'Because of Sam?'
An elderly lady in a flowered dress and large straw hat was sweeping around her front steps as they approached. She glanced at them, then she froze and stared. Lee slowed then stopped near the walkway to the house. She looked at the old woman, and the old woman looked at Lee. 'Mornin', Mrs. Langston,' Lee said in a friendly drawl.
Mrs. Langston gripped the broom handle and stiffened her back, and seemed content to stare.
'I'm Lee Cayhall. You remember me,' Lee drawled again.
As the name Cayhall drifted across the tiny lawn, Adam caught himself glancing around to see if anyone else heard it. He was prepared to be embarrassed if the name fell on other ears. If Mrs. Langston remembered Lee, it was not apparent. She managed a polite nod of the head, just a quick up and down motion, rather awkward as if to say, 'Good morning to you. Now move along.'
'Nice to see you again,' Lee said and began walking away. Mrs. Langston scurried up the steps and disappeared inside. 'I dated her son in high school,' Lee said, shaking her head in disbelief.
'She was thrilled to see you.'
'She was always sort of wacky,' Lee said without conviction. 'Or maybe she's afraid to talk to a Cayhall. Afraid of what the neighbors might say.'
'I think it might be best if we go incognito for the rest of the day. What about it?'
'It's a deal.'
They passed other folks puttering in their flower beds and waiting for the mailman, but they said nothing. Lee covered her eyes with sun shades. They zigzagged through the neighborhood in the general direction of the central square, chatting about Lee's old friends and where they were now. She kept in touch with two of them, one in Clanton and one in Texas. They avoided family history until they were on a street with smaller, wood- framed houses stacked tightly together. They stopped at the corner, and Lee nodded at something down the street.
'You see the third house on the right, the little brown one there?'
'Yes.'
'That's where you lived. We could walk down there but I see people moving about.'
Two small children played with toy guns in the front yard and someone was swinging on the narrow front porch. It was a square house, small, neat, perfect for a young couple having babies.
Adam had been almost three when Eddie and Evelyn disappeared, and as he stood on the corner he tried desperately to remember something about the house. He couldn't.
'It was painted white back then, and of course the trees were smaller. Eddie rented it from a local real estate agent.'
'Was it nice?'
'Nice enough. They hadn't been married long. They were just kids with a new child. Eddie worked in an auto parts store, then he worked for the state highway department. Then he took another job.'
'Sounds familiar.'
'Evelyn worked part-time in a jewelry store on the square. I think they were happy. She was not from here, you know, and so she didn't know a lot of people. They kept to themselves.'
They walked by the house and one of the children aimed an orange machine gun at Adam. There were no memories of the place to be evoked at that moment. He smiled at the child and looked away. They were soon on another street with the square in sight.
Lee was suddenly a tour guide and historian.
The Yankees had burned Clanton in 1863, the bastards, and after the war, General Clanton, a Confederate hero whose family owned the county, returned, with only one leg, the other one lost somewhere on the battlefield at Shiloh, and designed the new courthouse and the streets around it. His original drawings were on the wall upstairs in the courthouse. He wanted lots of shade so he planted oaks in perfect rows around the new courthouse. He was a man of vision who could see the small town rising from the ashes and prospering, so he designed the streets in an exact square around the courthouse common. They had walked by the great man's grave, she said, just a moment ago, and she would show it to him later.
There was a struggling mall north of town and a row of discount supermarkets to the east, but the people of Ford County still enjoyed shopping around the square on Saturday morning, she explained as they strolled along the sidewalk next to Washington Street. Traffic was slow and the pedestrians were even slower. The buildings were old and adjoining, filled with lawyers and insurance agents, banks and cafes, hardware stores and dress shops. The sidewalk was covered with canopies, awnings, and verandas from the offices and stores. Creaky fans hung low and spun sluggishly. They stopped in front of an ancient pharmacy, and Lee removed her sunglasses. 'This was a hangout,' she explained. 'There was a soda fountain in the back with a jukebox and racks of comic books. You could buy an enormous cherry sundae for a nickel, and it took hours to eat it. It took even longer if the boys were here.'
Like something from a movie, Adam thought. They stopped in front of a hardware store, and for some reason examined the shovels and hoes and rakes leaning against the window. Lee looked at the battered double doors, opened and held in place by bricks, and thought of something from her childhood. But she kept it to herself.
They crossed the street, hand in hand, and passed a group of old men whittling wood and chewing tobacco around the war memorial. She nodded at a statue and informed him quietly that this was General Clanton, with both legs. The courthouse was not open for business on Saturdays. They bought colas from a machine outside and sipped them in a gazebo on the front lawn. She told the story of the most famous trial in the history of Ford County, the murder trial of Carl Lee Hailey in 1984. He was a black man who shot and killed two rednecks who'd raped his little daughter. There were marches and protests by blacks on one side and Klansmen on the other, and the National Guard actually camped out here, around the courthouse, to keep the peace. Lee had driven down from Memphis one day to watch the spectacle. He was acquitted by an all-white jury.
Adam remembered the trial. He'd been a junior at Pepperdine, and had followed it in the papers because it was happening in the town of his birth.
When she was a child, entertainment was scarce, and trials were always well attended. Sam had brought her and Eddie here once to watch the trial of a man accused of killing a hunting dog. He was found guilty and spent a year in prison. The county was split -the city folks were against the conviction for such a lowly crime, while the country folks placed a higher value on good beagles. Sam had been particularly happy to see the man sent away.
