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r pitch and accent of a different voice； the faraway hum of a lawn mower or weedeater。 And he can certainly hear the opening and closing of the door to the Chamber Room。 He can hear the satisfied and important chuckles of the execution team。
Sam leaned on his forearms and watched the windows above the hallway。 They were practicing for him out there。
40
BETWEEN the western edge of Highway 49 and the front lawn of the administrative buildings of Parchman； a distance of fifty yards； there was a grassy strip of land that was smooth and noticeable because it was once a railroad track。 It was where the death penalty protestors were corralled and monitored at every execution。 They invariably arrived； usually small groups of mitted souls who sat in folding chairs and held homemade placards。 They burned candles at night。 and sang hymns during the final hours。 They sang hymns； offered prayers； and wept when the death was announced。
A new twist had occurred during the hours preceding the execution of Teddy Doyle Meeks； a child rapist and killer。 The somber； almost sacred protest had been disrupted by carloads of unruly college students who suddenly appeared without warning and had a delightful time demanding blood。 They drank beer and played loud music。 They chanted slogans and heckled the shaken death protestors。 The situation deteriorated as the two groups exchanged words。 Prison officials moved in and restored order。
Maynard Tole was next； and during the planning of his execution another section of turf on the other side of the main drive was designated for the death penalty proponents。 Extra security was assigned to keep things peaceful。
When Adam arrived Friday morning； he counted seven Ku Klux Klansmen in white robes。 Three were engaged in some attempt at synchronized protest； a casual walking along the edge of the grassy strip near the highway with posters strung over their shoulders。 The other four were erecting a large blue and white canopy。 Metal poles and ropes were scattered on the ground。 Two ice chests sat next to several lawn chairs。 These guys were planning to stay awhile。
Adam stared at them as he rolled to a stop at the front gate of Parchman。 He lost track of time as he watched the Kluckers for minutes。 So this was his heritage； his roots。 These were the brethren of his grandfather and his grandfather's relatives and ancestors。 Were some of these figures the same ones who'd been recorded on film and edited by Adam into the video about Sam Cayhall？ Had he seen them before？
Instinctively； Adam opened the door of his car and got out。 His coat and briefcase were in the rear seat。 He began walking slowly in their direction； and stopped near their ice chests。 Their placards demanded freedom for Sam Cayhall； a political prisoner。 Gas the real criminals； but release Sam。 For some reason； Adam was not forted by their demands。
〃What do you want？〃 demanded one with a sign draped over his chest。 The other six stopped what they were doing and stared。
〃I don't know；〃 Adam said truthfully。
〃Then what are you looking at？〃
〃I'm not sure。〃
Three others joined the first； and they stepped together near Adam。 Their robes were identical … white and made of a very light fabric with red crosses and other markings。 It was almost 9 A。M。； and they were already sweating。 〃Who the hell are you？〃
〃Sam's grandson。〃
The other three crowded behind the others； and all seven examined Adam from a distance of no more than five feet。 〃Then you're on our side；〃 one said； relieved。
〃No。 I'm not one of you。〃
〃That's right。 He's with that bunch of Jews from Chicago；〃 another said for the edification of the rest； and this seemed to stir them up a bit。
〃Why are you people here？〃 Adam asked。
〃We're trying to save Sam。 Looks like you're not gonna do it。〃
〃You're the reason he's here。〃
A young one with a red face and rows of sweat on his forehead took the lead and walked even closer to Adam。 〃No。 He's the reason we're here。 I wasn't even born when Sam killed those Jews； so you can't blame it on me。 We're here to protest his execution。 He's being persecuted for political reasons。〃
〃He wouldn't be here had it not been for the Klan。 Where are your masks？ I thought you people always hid your faces。〃
They twitched and fidgeted as a group； uncertain what to do next。 He was； after all； the grandson of Sam Cayhall； their idol and champion。 He was the lawyer trying to save a most precious symbol。
〃Why don't you leave？〃 Adam asked。 〃Sam doesn't want you here。〃
〃Why don't you go to hell？〃 the young one sneered。
〃How eloquent。 Just leave； okay。 Sam's worth much more to you dead than alive。 Let him die in peace； then you'll have a wonderful martyr。〃
〃We ain't leavin'。 We'll be here till the end。〃
〃And what if Sam asks you to leave？ Will you go then？〃
〃No；〃 he sneered again； then glanced over his shoulders at the others who all seemed to agree that they would； in fact； not leave。 〃We plan to make a lot of noise。〃
〃Great。 That'll get your pictures in the papers。 That's what this is about； isn't it？ Circus clowns in funny costumes always attract attention。〃
Car doors slammed somewhere behind Adam； and as he looked around he saw a television crew making a speedy exit from a van parked near his Saab。
〃Well； well；〃 he said to the group。 〃Smile； fellas。 This is your big moment。〃
〃Go to hell；〃 the young one snapped angrily。 Adam turned his back to them and walked toward his car。 A hurried reporter with a cameraman in tow rushed to him。
〃Are you Adam Hall？〃 she asked breathlessly。 〃Cayhall's lawyer？〃
〃Yes；〃 he said without stopping。
〃Could we have a few words？〃
〃No。 But those boys are anxious to talk；〃 he said； pointing over his shoulder。 She walked along beside him while the cameraman fumbled with his equipment。 Adam opened his car door； then slammed it as he turned the ignition。
Louise； the guard at the gate； handed him a numbered card for his dashboard； then waved him through。
Packer went through the motions of the obligatory frisk inside the front door of the Row。 〃What's in there？〃 he asked； pointing to the small cooler Adam held in his left hand。
〃Eskimo pies； Sergeant。 Would you like one？〃
〃Lemme see。〃 Adam handed the cooler to Packer； who flipped open the top just long enough to count half a dozen Eskimo Pies； still frozen under a layer of ice。
He handed the cooler back to Adam； and pointed to the door of the front office； a few feet away。 〃Y'all will be meetin' in here from now on；〃 he explained。 They stepped into the room。
〃Why？〃 Adam asked as he looked around the room。 There was a metal desk with a phone； three chairs； and two locked file cabinets。
〃That's just the way we do things。 We lighten up some as the big day gets close。 Sam gets to have his visitors here。 No time limit either。〃
〃How sweet。〃 Adam placed his briefcase on the desk and picked up the phone。 Packer left to fetch Sam。
The kind lady in the clerk's office in Jackson informed Adam that the Mississippi Supreme Court had denied； just minutes ago； his client's petition for postconviction relief on the grounds that he was mentally inpetent。 He thanked her； said some