A Thousand Acres_ A Novel - Jane Smiley [152]
“What a coincidence,” muttered Rose.
The Des Moines lawyer said, “Thank you, Mr. Carson, that’s all for me,” turned his back on Marv, and strode back to his table. Marv paused, startled. Mr. Cartier got up and had Marv elaborate on the costs of the delay. Mr. Cartier was very cheerful.
Marv went back to his seat on our side of the courtroom. He was careful not to look at us, full of his role as “expert witness.” But I realized right then that by watching Marv, just by watching him, you could tell where the money was, and where it was going to go.
After a moment, Judge Ottarson lifted his papers and stacked them together meditatively, straightening the bottom edge against the dark wood of his desk, then both side edges. He pushed his glasses up his nose, then thumbed through the original preincorporation contract.
He said, “I don’t feel I need to take a recess to decide this matter. The arguments are fairly clear, and the plaintiffs have failed to establish either abuse of the property in question or mismanagement of its assets. The fact is, in this state, if you legally sign over your property, it is very hard to change your mind and get it back.” He paused for a long time and seemed to be debating how to go on. Finally, he said, “Obviously, the mental condition of the chief plaintiff, Mr. Cook, must also come under consideration. Were the property to revert to him, it’s not clear, given the deep divisions in the family, who would farm it. But this is only a corollary consideration. The law is clear. I find in favor of the defendants, Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Lewis, and Mr. Smith.”
We began to shift around, but he went on. He said, “I would also like to say to Mr. LaSalle, Mr. Crockett, Mr. Rasmussen, and Ms. Cook that there is merit in the argument of Mr. Cartier that this may have constituted a frivolous misuse of this court, and Mr. Rasmussen and Ms. Cook, in particular, should have bethought themselves before they decided to carry a family fracas this far. For that reason, the plaintiffs shall be required to pay fees and costs. This court is adjourned.”
Rose was smiling.
Caroline’s face was red and angry.
One thing was surely true about going to court. It had marvelously divided us from each other and from our old lives. There could be no reconciliation now.
41
IT DIDN’T SURPRISE ME that we couldn’t tolerate the verdict. In the first place, there was no precedent to show us how to behave or what to feel. Nor did we do anything that we had not already planned to do—Ty and I went home to feed the hogs in our pickup, Rose went to get the girls in her car, and Jess drove Pete’s pickup back to his place. I noticed that we each thanked Mr. Cartier rather hurriedly and then got out of there, as if we were ashamed.
Ty and I drove home almost in silence. It was the nineteenth of October. The leaves on the trees were the same color as the leaves caught in the ditches and fence lines. The old cornstalks in the harvested fields were almost white by contrast. A few farmers were still out finishing the last of their beans. I could see, and almost hear, from long habit, the sere, reddish-black pods rattling in the breezes as we passed. Hogs and white-faced beef cattle grazed the fenced fields, cleaning up after the combines. Here and there, a farmer was fall plowing. The stiff, chill wind swirled the dry soil into the air. White farmhouses stood out crisply against the umber background, their front yards decorated with corn shocks and dark sun pumpkins.
Last year, Harold and Loren had gone to Arizona for two weeks in October and November, in the cheap period before the season opened. This year, we’d heard, they were planning to move into town. Harold’s eyes were still painful, and he didn’t like to be left alone. A couple of women, sisters, had agreed to watch him during the day while Loren was working the farm, but they didn’t drive, so Loren had decided to rent a place near the Cabot post office. Marlene Stanley had told this