10_The Testament by John Grisham

Author:John Grisham
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Digital Source
Published: 2010-09-27T23:00:00+00:00

"No. They are grieving. It's very sad."

She sat in the doorway, arms folded over her knees, eyes lost in the distance. The boy stood guard under a nearby tree, almost unseen in the darkness.

"I would invite you into my home," she said. "But it would not be proper."

"No problem here."

"Only married people can be alone indoors at this time of the day. It's a custom."

"When in Rome, do like the Romans."

"Rome is very far away."

"Everything is very far away."

"Yes it is. Are you hungry?"

"Are you?"

"No. But then I don't eat much."

"I'm fine. We need to talk."

"I'm sorry about today. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course."

"I have some manioc and some juice if you'd like."

"No, really, I'm okay."

"What did you do today?"

"Oh, we met with the chief, had breakfast at his table, hiked back to the first village, got the boat, worked on it, set up our tent behind the chiefs hut, then waited for you."

"The chief liked you?"

"Evidently. He wants us to stay."

"What do you think of my people?"

"They're all naked."

"They always have been."

"How long did it take to get accustomed to it?"

"I don't know. A couple of years. It gradually grows on you, like everything else. I was homesick for three years, and there are times now when I would like to drive a car, eat a pizza, and see a good movie. But you adjust."

"I can't begin to imagine."

- " "It's a matter of calling. I became a Christian when I was fourteen years old, and I knew then that God wanted me to be a missionary. I didn't know exactly where, but I put my faith in Him."

"He picked a helluva spot."

"I enjoy your English, but please don't swear."

"Sorry. Can we talk about Troy?" The shadows were falling fast. They were ten feet apart and could still see each other, but the blackness would soon separate them.

"Suit yourself," she said, with a weary air of resignation.

"Troy had three wives and six children, six that we knew about. You, of course, were a surprise. He didn't like the other six, but evidently was quite fond of you. He left them virtually nothing, just enough to cover their debts. Everything else was given to Rachel Lane, born out of wedlock on November 2, 1954, at Catholic Hospital in New Orleans, to a woman named Evelyn Cunningham, now deceased. That Rachel would be you."

The words fell heavy in the thick air; there were no other sounds. Her silhouette absorbed them, and, as usual, she thought before she spoke. "Troy wasn't fond of me. We hadn't seen each other in twenty years."

"That's not important. He left his fortune to you. No one had a chance to ask why because he jumped out of a window after signing his last testament. I have a copy for you."

"I don't want to see it."

"And I have some other papers which I'd like you to sign, maybe tomorrow, first thing, when we can see. Then I can be on my way."

"What kind of papers?"

"Legal stuff, all for your benefit.

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