John Grisham: The Rainmaker

It’s nearly dark when I knock on the Blacks’ front door. Dot opens it, and almost smiles when she sees it’s me.

The house is dark and quiet, still very much in mourning. I doubt if it will ever change. Buddy’s in bed with the flu.

Over instant coffee, I gently break the news that Great Benefit has gone belly-up, that she’s been shafted once more. Barring a miracle far off in the distance, we won’t get a dime. I’m not surprised at her reaction.

There appear to be several complex reasons for Great Benefit’s death, but right now it’s important for Dot to think she pulled the trigger. Her eyes gleam and her entire face is happy as it sinks in. She put them out of business. One little, determined woman in Memphis, Tennessee, bankrupted them sumbitches.

She’ll go to Donny Ray’s grave tomorrow and tell him about it.

Kelly is waiting anxiously in the den with Betty Norvelle. She clutches a small leather bag I bought her yesterday. In it are a few toiletries and a few items of clothing donated by the shelter. It holds everything she owns.

We sign the paperwork, and thank Betty. We hold hands as we walk quickly to the car. We take a deep breath once inside, then we drive away.

The gun’s under the seat, but I’ve stopped worrying.

“Dear, which direction?” I ask when we get on the interstate loop that circles the city. We laugh at this, because it is so absolutely wonderful. It doesn’t matter where we go!

“I’d like to see mountains,” she says.

“Me too. East or West?”

“Big mountains.”

“Then West it is.”

“I want to see snow.”

“I think we can find some.”

She cuddles closer and rests her head on my shoulder. I rub her legs.

We cross the river and enter Arkansas. The Memphis skyline fades behind us. It’s amazing how little we’ve planned for this. We didn’t know until this morning that she’d be able to leave the county. But the charges were dropped, and I have a letter from the district attorney himself. Her bond was canceled at three this afternoon.

We’ll settle in a place where no one can find us. I’m not afraid of being followed, but I just want to be left alone. I don’t want to hear about Deck and Bruiser. I don’t want to hear about the fallout at Great Benefit. I don’t want Miss Birdie calling me for legal advice. I don’t want to worry about Cliff’s death and everything related to it. Kelly and I will talk about it one of these days, but not anytime soon.

We’ll pick a small college town because she wants to go to school. She’s only twenty. I’m still a kid myself. We’re unloading some serious baggage here, and it’s time to have fun. I’d love to teach history in high school. That shouldn’t be hard to do. After all, I have seven years of college.

I will not, under any circumstances, have anything whatsoever to do with the law. I will allow my license to expire. I will not register to vote so they can’t nail me for jury duty. I will never voluntarily set foot in another courtroom.

We smile and giggle as the land flattens and the traffic lightens. Memphis is twenty miles behind us. I vow never to return.