Grisham’s ‘Ford County’ characters believable

Short stories are weird. More often than not, I find myself questioning everything I’ve just read as I close the book and set it down. Mainly, I question why the story was written, what point was possibly trying to be made and why I should care.

Luckily, John Grisham is good enough to silence the inquisitions. Grisham’s ante-courtroom fiction is always a nice change of pace from the nail-biters he usually serves up. And, as with every legal thriller he’s written, “Ford County” sucked me in from page one. This collection of seven short fiction tales all focus on characters from Ford County, Miss. — the setting of many of the former lawyer’s bestsellers, beginning with “A Time to Kill.”

The cover shows a two-lane country road curving up a hill and into the horizon, and it’s a fitting image as many of the stories center around a trip of some sort. First off is one of my favorites, “Blood Drive,” a tale of three good ol’ Ford County boys heading to the big city. In a situation as realistic as if it happened in my stomping grounds of Mitchell County, a juicy story gets bigger and more convoluted as it passes from person to person. A hometown boy, Bailey, has been in an accident in Memphis, Tenn., and though he’s only suffered a few minor breaks and scrapes, by the time the story makes its way across town, poor Bailey is barely clinging to life.

Facts fall by the wayside as rumor and supposition take charge. It’s decided that, due to Bailey’s fading condition, the three brave young men should embark on the two-hour drive to Memphis to donate their blood. A simple task turns into a saga, however, as the boys end up outrunning the law, and shortly thereafter, a shotgun-wielding homeowner. A beer or two for the road turns into a six-pack or two, and by the time they reach the Memphis city limits, the plans include a short stop at the friendly local strip club. And then, of course, straight to the hospital they will go.

Except that one of them gets lost in an inner-city gang shootout, and the other two end up on the wrong side of a rumble involving strippers, the Memphis vice squad and some rowdy bikers. And poor Bailey never gets his blood donations, which is just as well since he ends up safely at home long before anyone else.

The best part about Grisham’s “Ford County characters” is how real they feel. Someone who wasn’t born in the South or who hasn’t spent a good deal of time here might perhaps think characters like this couldn’t truly exist. I beg to differ. I know these people. I went to school with these guys, I’ve worked with these folks or my friends are related to them. People like Aggie and Calvin, who, when they finally reach the information desk at the first hospital they could find in the city, tell the clerk they need to find Bailey. The problem is, they don’t know his full name. And they couldn’t imagine why the hospital wouldn’t just list patients by their first names.

Calvin: “I thought Bailey was his first name.”

Aggie: “I thought it was his last name. They used to call him Buck, didn’t they?”

Calvin: “Yeah, but his mamma’s last name is Caldwell.”

Aggie: “How many times has she been married?”

It is in dialogue like this that Grisham makes me feel at home. He’s not an outsider mocking the South, he’s just a guy telling a story that is funny and down-to-earth and, most of all, very probable.

One reason short stories can be difficult is that there is an inherently short amount of time to develop a character. Many end up feeling aimless. But Grisham is in control at all times, telling simple stories about hometown people going about life. You may not know which direction you’re heading, but you know that you’ll enjoy the ride.

Holly Phillips canvasses the countryside on the Moultrie-Colquitt County Library Bookmobile.