The Reckoning

by John Grisham

  It was 1925, and the hotel had just reopened after a complete renovation. Pete knew it by reputation but had never been there. For four years at West Point his friend had talked about the dazzling parties and scores of beautiful girls. And he was not exaggerating.

  The black-tie debut was in the main ballroom on the second floor, and it was packed. For the occasion, Pete wore his formal army dress whites, solid white from collar to shoes, and he cut a fine figure as he mingled through the crowd, drink in hand. With perfect military posture, a tanned face, and an easy smile, he skipped from conversation to conversation and soon realized that a number of young ladies were taking notice. Dinner was called and he found his chair at a table filled with other friends of his host. They drank champagne, ate oysters, and talked of this and that, nothing serious, and certainly nothing to do with the military. The Great War was over. Our country was at peace. Certainly that would continue forever.

  As dinner was served, Pete noticed a young lady at the next table. She was facing him, and every time he glanced over she was glancing too. In a roomful of gorgeous girls, she was undoubtedly the most beautiful one there, with perhaps the rest of the world thrown in as well. Once or twice he found it impossible to take his eyes off her. By the end of dinner, both were embarrassed by their mutual gawking.

  Her name, as he soon learned, was Liza Sweeney. He followed her to the bar, introduced himself, and began chatting. Miss Sweeney was from Memphis, was only eighteen years old, and had never been tempted to do all that debutante foolishness. What she really wanted was a cigarette, but she would not smoke in front of her mother, who was trying to keep an eye on her from across the room. Pete followed her out of the ballroom—she seemed to know the hotel well—and to a patio near a pool. There they smoked three cigarettes each and downed two drinks—martinis for her, bourbons for him.

  Liza had just finished high school but wasn’t sure about college. She was tired of Memphis and wanted something bigger, something as big as Paris or Rome, but then she was just dreaming. Pete asked if she thought her parents would allow her to date a man four years older. She shrugged and said that for the past two years she had been dating whomever she pleased, but they were all a bunch of high school boys.

  “Are you asking me for a date?” she asked with a grin.

  “I am.”

  “When?”

  “Next weekend.”

  “You’re on, soldier boy.”

  Six nights later they met at the Peabody for drinks and dinner and another party. The following day, a Saturday, they took a long walk along the river, arm in arm now with a lot of touching, and strolled through downtown. That night, she invited him to dinner at her home. He met her parents and older sister. Mr. Sweeney was an actuary for an insurance company and was quite dull. His wife, though, was a beautiful woman who did most of the talking. They were an odd pair and Liza had already told Pete several times that she planned to leave home soon as possible. Her sister went to a college somewhere in Missouri.

  Early in their courtship, Pete suspected that Liza was one of a thousand Memphis girls hanging around the Peabody hoping to snag a rich husband. He made it clear that he was not another wealthy Delta planter. His family owned land and grew cotton, but nothing like the big plantations. Liza at first put on some society airs, but once she realized Pete was just a commoner she quit her act. Inviting him home revealed the obvious—her family was quite modest. Pete didn’t care how much money they had, or how little. He was thoroughly smitten and would chase her until he caught her, which, as he soon learned, would not be much of a challenge. Liza didn’t care how big the farm was. She had found herself a soldier she adored and he was not getting away.

  The following Friday, they met again at the Peabody for dinner with friends. After dinner, they sneaked away to a bar to be alone. And after drinks, they sneaked off to his room on the seventh floor. Pete had been with women before, but only those who worked the brothels of New York City. It was a West Point tradition. Liza was a virgin and ready for a change, and she embraced the lovemaking with an enthusiasm that made Pete dizzy. Around midnight he suggested that it was time for her to return home. She said she was not going anywhere, was in fact spending the night, and wouldn’t mind staying in bed for most of the next day. Pete acquiesced.

  “But what will you tell your parents?” he asked.

  “A lie. I’ll think of something. Don’t worry about it. They’re easy to fool and they would never expect me to do something like this.”

  “Whatever you say. Can we get some sleep now?”

  “Yes. I know you’re exhausted.”

  The courtship raged for a month as the two lovers forgot the world existed. Every weekend, Pete got a room at the Peabody, where he spent three nights, often with Liza sleeping over. Her friends began whispering. Her parents were getting suspicious. It was, after all, 1925, and there were strict rules that governed proper young ladies and their beaus. Liza knew the rules as well as her friends, but she also knew how much fun a girl could have if she broke a few of them. She was enjoying the martinis, the cigarettes, and especially the forbidden sex.

  On a Sunday, Pete drove her to Clanton to meet his family, see the farm, and get a glimpse of where he came from. He did not plan to spend the rest of his life growing cotton. The military would be his career, and he and Liza would travel the world, or at least that was what he believed at the age of twenty-two.

  He was ordered to Fort Riley in Kansas, where he would go through officer training. While he had been waiting eagerly for his orders, his first assignment, he was crushed at the thought of leaving Liza. He drove to her home in Memphis and broke the news. They knew it was coming, but being separated now seemed impossible. When he said good-bye, both were in tears. He rode the train to Fort Riley, and a week later received a letter from Liza. She got right to the point—she was pregnant.

  With no hesitation, he devised a plan. Claiming urgent family matters required him to return home, he cajoled his commanding officer into lending him his car. Pete drove through the night and arrived at the Peabody in time for breakfast. He called Liza and informed her that they would now elope. She loved the idea but was not sure how she could sneak a suitcase out of the house with her mother around. Pete convinced her to forget the suitcase. There were stores in Kansas City.

  Liza kissed her mom good-bye and went to work. Pete intercepted her, and they fled Memphis, racing away, giggling, laughing, and pawing at each other. They found a pay phone in Tupelo and called Mrs. Sweeney. Liza was sweet, but abrupt. Mom, sorry to surprise you like this, but Pete and I are eloping. I’m eighteen and I can do what I want. Love you and I’ll call again tonight and talk to Dad. When she hung up, her mother was crying. Liza, though, was the happiest girl in the world.

  Since they were in Tupelo, a town Pete knew well, they decided to get married. The better housing at Fort Riley was reserved for officers and their families, and a marriage certificate would be an asset. They went to the Lee County Courthouse, filled out an application, paid a fee, and found a justice of the peace stocking minnows in the rear of his bait shop. With his wife as the witness, and after pocketing his customary $2 fee, he pronounced them husband and wife.

  Pete would call his parents later. Since the clock was now ticking on child number one, it was important to establish a wedding date as soon as possible. Pete knew the gossips in Clanton would begin looking at calendars as soon as they heard the news from his mother that her first grandchild had arrived. Liza thought the due date was about eight months away. Eight months would raise an eyebrow or two but not stir the gossip. Seven would be a stretch. Six would be downright scandalous.

  They were married on June 14, 1925.

  Joel was born on January 4, 1926, in an army hospital in Germany. Pete had begged for an assignment on foreign soil to get as far away from Memphis and Clanton as possible. No one there would ever see Joel’
s birth certificate. He and Liza waited six weeks before sending telegraphs to the grandparents back home.

  * * *

  —

  From Germany, Pete was transferred back to Fort Riley in Kansas, where he trained with the Twenty-Sixth Cavalry Regiment. He was an excellent horseman, but he was beginning to question whether mounted cavalry had a role in modern warfare. Tanks and mobile artillery were the future, but he loved the cavalry nonetheless and stayed with the Twenty-Sixth. Stella was born at Fort Riley in 1927.

  On June 20, 1929, Pete’s father, Jacob, died of an apparent heart attack at the age of forty-nine. Liza, with two sick toddlers, could not make the trip to Clanton for Mr. Banning’s funeral. She had not been home in two years, and she preferred to stay away.

  Four months after Mr. Banning’s death, the stock market crashed and the country fell into the Great Depression. For career officers, the collapse of the economy was hardly felt. Their jobs, housing, health care, education, and paychecks were secure, though slightly diminished. Pete and Liza were happy with his career and their growing family, and their future was still in the army.

  The cotton market also collapsed in 1929 and farmers were hit hard. They borrowed to pay expenses and debts and to plant again the following year. Pete’s mother was not functioning well since the sudden death of her husband and was unable to manage the farm. His older sister, Florry, was living in Memphis and had little interest in agriculture. Pete hired a foreman for the 1930 planting but the farm lost money again. He borrowed money and hired another foreman for the following year, but the market was still depressed. The debts were piling up and the Banning land was in jeopardy.

  During the Christmas holidays of 1931, Pete and Liza discussed the gloomy prospect of leaving the army and returning to Ford County. Neither wanted to, especially Liza. She could not picture herself living in such a small backwater town as Clanton, and she could not stomach the thought of living in the same house with Pete’s mother. The two women had spent little time together, but enough to realize that they needed separation. Mrs. Banning was a devout Methodist who knew the answers to everything because they were written right there in the holy scriptures. Using the divine authority of God’s word, she could and would tell anyone exactly how to live his or her life. She wasn’t loud or obnoxious, just overly judgmental.

  Pete wanted to avoid her too. Indeed, he had entertained thoughts of selling the farm to get out of the business. This idea fell flat for three reasons. First, he didn’t own the farm. His mother inherited it from his father. Second, there was no market for farmland because of the Depression. And third, his mother would have no place to live.

  Pete loved the army, especially the cavalry, and wanted to serve until retirement. As a boy, he had chopped and picked cotton and spent long hours in the fields, and he wanted a different life. He wanted to see the world, perhaps fight in a war or two, earn some medals, and keep his wife happy.

  So he borrowed again and hired the third foreman. The crops were beautiful, the market was strong, and then, in early September, the rains came like monsoons and washed everything away. The 1932 crop produced nothing, and the banks were calling. His mother continued to decline and could hardly take care of herself.

  Pete and Liza discussed a move to Memphis or maybe Tupelo, anywhere but Clanton. A bigger city would provide more opportunities, better schools, a more vibrant social life. Pete could work the farm and commute, or could he? On Christmas Eve, they were planning their evening when a telegram arrived. It was from Florry and the news was tragic. Their mother had died the day before, possibly of pneumonia. She was only fifty.

  Instead of unwrapping gifts, they hurriedly packed their bags and made the long drive to Clanton. His mother was buried at Old Sycamore, next to her husband. Pete and Liza made the decision to stay and never returned to Fort Riley. He resigned his commission but remained in the reserves.

  There were rumblings of wars. The Japanese were expanding in Asia and had invaded China the year before. Hitler and the Nazis were building factories that were building tanks, airplanes, submarines, cannons, and everything else a military needed to aggressively expand. Pete’s colleagues in the army were alarmed at what was happening. Some predicted an inevitable war.

  As Pete turned in his uniform and went home to save the farm, he could not hide his pessimism. He had debts to pay and mouths to feed. The Depression was entrenched and had the entire nation in its grip. The country was lightly armed and vulnerable and too broke to fund a wartime military.

  But if war came, he would not stay on the farm and miss it.

  Chapter 22

  After back-to-back bumper crops in 1925 and 1926, Jacob Banning decided to build a fine home. The one Pete and Florry knew as children had been built before the Civil War, and over the decades had been added to and retrofitted. It was certainly nicer than most homes in the county, but Jacob, with money in his pocket, wanted to make a statement and build something his neighbors would admire long after he was gone. He hired an architect in Memphis and approved a stately Colonial Revival design, a two-story home dominated by red brick, sweeping gables, and a wide front porch. Jacob built it on a small rise closer to the highway, but still far enough away so that the traffic could admire it without being worrisome.

  Now that Jacob was dead, as was his wife, the spacious home was Liza’s domain, and she wanted to fill it with children. Typically, she and Pete went about this project with great enthusiasm, but the results were disappointing. She had one miscarriage at Fort Riley, then another when they moved to the farm. After a few months of dark mood swings and a lot of tears, she bounced back as vigorous as before, much to Pete’s delight. Liza had only one sibling, as did Pete, and they agreed that small families were boring. She dreamed of having five children, Pete wanted six, three of each, so they pursued their marital duties with a fierce determination.

  When he wasn’t in bed with his wife, Pete was aggressively getting the farm into shape. He spent hours in the fields doing the manual work himself and setting the example for his workers. He cleared land, rebuilt a barn, repaired outbuildings, laid down fencing, bought new livestock, and usually worked from sunrise to dusk. He met with the bankers and told them bluntly that they would have to wait.

  The weather cooperated in 1933, and with Pete driving his field hands into the ground the crop was abundant. The market cooperated as well, and the farm had its first breathing room in years. Pete kept the banks happy as he made payments, but he also buried some money in the backyard. The Banning land consisted of two sections, 640 acres each, and if more of it could be cleared, more cotton could be planted. For the first time in his life, Pete began to see the long-term potential of his inheritance.

  He owned one section, Florry the other, and they struck a deal whereby he would cultivate her land for half the profits. In 1934, she built her pink cottage and moved from Memphis. Her arrival on the farm added some life to the place. She liked Liza and they were amiable, at first.

  Not that life was dull; it was not. Liza enjoyed being a full-time mother as she tried in vain to add to her family. Pete taught her how to ride a horse, built a barn, and filled it with horses and ponies. Before long she had Joel and Stella in the saddle, and the three of them rode for hours around the farm and the neighboring countryside. Pete taught her how to shoot and they hunted birds together. He taught her how to fish and the little family spent hours on Sunday afternoons down by the river.

  If Liza missed the big city, she rarely complained. At the age of thirty, she had a happy marriage with a husband she adored and was blessed with two beautiful children. She lived in a fine home surrounded by farmland that provided security. For a party girl, though, the social life was disappointing. There was no country club, no fancy hotel, no dance clubs or decent bars. Indeed, there were no bars at all because Ford County, like the entire state, was as dry as a bone. Alcohol sales were illegal in all eighty-two
counties and every city. Those of a more sinful nature were forced to rely upon bootleggers, who were plentiful, or friends who hauled back booze from Memphis.

  Social life was dictated by the church. In the case of the Bannings, of course, it was the Methodist church, the second largest in Clanton. Pete insisted that they attend faithfully, and Liza fell into the routine. She had been raised as a lukewarm Episcopalian, of which there were none—devout or otherwise—to be found in Clanton. At first, she was a bit turned off by the narrowness of Methodist teachings, but soon understood that things could be worse. The county was full of other, more strident strains of Christianity—Baptists, Pentecostals, and Churches of Christ—hard-core believers even more fundamental than the Methodists. Only the Presbyterians seemed slightly less dogged. If there was a solitary Catholic in town he kept it quiet. The nearest Jew was in Memphis.

  People were classified, and often judged, by their denomination. And they were certainly condemned if they didn’t claim one. Liza joined the Methodist church and became an active member. What else was there to do in Clanton?

  However, because she was an outsider, regardless of her husband’s pedigree, it would take a long time to fit in. The locals really didn’t trust you unless their ancestors had known your grandfather. She attended faithfully and grew to enjoy the worship services, especially the music. Eventually, she was asked to join a women’s Bible study group that met once a month. Then she was asked to assist in the planning of a wedding. She helped out with a couple of important funerals. A traveling evangelist came to town for the spring revival, and Pete offered their guest room for the week. As it turned out, he was quite handsome, and the ladies envied Liza’s closeness to the charismatic young preacher. Pete kept a close eye on the situation and was pleased when the revival was over.