The Summons

ine 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 und

had quietly refused to hold cour

l mailbox of Professor Ray Atlee. He recognized it immediately since such envelopes had been a part

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; n

. 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 Conf

d 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 w

oters 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 c

ouch 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 n

nd 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 st

ing 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 b

k and shoved pape

l of Law, Charlottesville, Virginia. The e's and o's were smudged together. A new

t. One of their uglier fights had been over the son's decision

d titles and important addresses, and he wanted folks in Clanton, even the postal workers, to know that his son was a professor

dly embossed with the Judge's name and former title and address, again minus

he only two offspring of a bad marriage that had ended in 1969 w

ments to appear in

discuss the adminis

y, Reube

ives. Decrees of divorce, child custody, termination of parental rights, adoptions. Orders settling will contests, election contests, land disput

mmoned, and as irritating as it was, he had no doubt that he and his brother would drag themselves before His Honor for

h 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

ooked out at the courtyard where everything was in bloom. He wasn't angry or bitter, just frustrated that his father could onc

ver 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

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 fe

their home, but rather at Maple Run. Their address was not the Atlees on Fourth Street, but in

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 curs

ur 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

mily. Ray wanted nothing to do with it. For him the house was filled with unpleasant memories and each trip back depressed him. He certai

r 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

orrest had produced no children, b

other Ray at all. He was living life for himself, not for the benefit of his

en land and cotton and slaves and railroads and banks and politics, the usual Confederate portfolio of holdings that, in ter

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

. His bubble burst when the Judge

u mean?" Ra

said. I can't a

on't und

y college you want. But if you go

provided an allowance that barely covered tuition, books, board, and fraternity dues. Law sch

y. While at Tulane Ray read a report on judicial compensation, and he was saddened to learn that Mississip

rred cheap tobacco. He drove an old Lincoln, ate bad food but lots of it, and wore the same black sui

ch money the Judge

ot two thousand dollars a year, same for the Sons of Confederate Ve

team traveling to a state tournament. A drive by the Rotary Club to vaccinate babies in the

was to write a short letter and ask for it. Judge Atlee always sen

od and sticking them in his chancellor's envelopes with scarcely readable checks drawn on the First Nationa

l family photos and mementos, long forgotten files and papers - all a bunch of rubbish that would make an impressive bonfire. He and F

uch more complicated than a dying, reclusive old father hell-bent on giving away his money. Forrest was a living, walking

y, Ray mumbl

for his eleven o'clock cl