stalking Mary Ann Malouf, but he knew her dormitory and her class schedule. Armed with this intelligence, he managed to bump into her a couple of times on campus. She seemed to enjoy the encounters. Occasionally, he watched her from a distance, and was irritated at the number of other boys doing the same. When Kentucky rolled into town for a football game on October 1, Joel asked her for a date. She declined and reminded him that she was engaged. Her fiancé had also attended Ole Miss and still had friends on campus. She couldn’t be seen with someone else.
She did not say that she didn’t want to date someone else, only that she couldn’t be seen dating someone else. Joel noted the important distinction. He replied that, at least in his opinion, it wasn’t fair for such a beautiful coed to have her social life so restricted while her fiancé was off no doubt having a grand time in D.C. He asked her why she wasn’t wearing an engagement ring. She didn’t have one.
He persisted and she finally agreed to a late dinner. Not a date, just a meal. He met her outside the Lyceum after dark, and they drove downtown to the square, parked in front of Neilson’s department store, and walked a block along South Lamar to the Mansion, the only restaurant open late. As they entered, Joel saw William Faulkner at his customary table, alone, eating, and reading a magazine.
He had just published Intruder in the Dust, his fourteenth novel. A critic writing for the Memphis Press-Scimitar gave it a mixed review, but more important, another story in the same newspaper revealed that Faulkner had sold the film rights to MGM. Joel bought the book at a small store in Jackson when he was visiting his mother. At that time, there was no bookstore in Oxford and the locals cared little about what their most famous son happened to be writing and publishing. As a general rule, he ignored them and they ignored him.
In a paper sack, Joel had two hardbacks: Intruder in the Dust, which was brand-new and yet to be read, and his father’s well-worn edition of As I Lay Dying.
The restaurant was empty at that hour, and Joel and Mary Ann sat as close to Mr. Faulkner as was reasonable without violating his privacy. Joel was hopeful that Faulkner would notice the stunning coed and wish to flirt, something he was prone to do, but he was too absorbed with his reading. He was oblivious to everything around him.
They ordered iced tea and vegetable plates and spoke quietly while waiting for an opening. Joel was at once thrilled to be staring into the lovely face of the girl he was dreaming of and to be so close to Faulkner, with the determination to say hello.
When Faulkner was half-finished with his barbecued chicken, he shoved it aside, took one bite of peach cobbler, then pulled out his pipe. He glanced around, finally, and noticed Mary Ann. Joel was amused at his double take and obvious interest. Faulkner stared her up and down as he fiddled with his pipe. Joel was on his feet. He stepped over, apologized for the intrusion, and asked the great man if he would be so kind as to autograph his father’s copy of As I Lay Dying, a book that Joel loved, and also his own edition of Intruder in the Dust.
“Of course,” Mr. Faulkner said politely in a high-pitched voice. He removed a pen from his coat pocket and took both books.
“I’m Joel Banning, a law student here.”
“A pleasure to meet you, son. And your friend?” Faulkner asked, smiling at her.
“Mary Ann Malouf, also a student.”
“They look younger every year.” He opened the first book, wrote nothing but his name in small print, closed it, smiled, handed it back, then signed the second one.
Joel said, “Thanks, Mr. Faulkner.” And when he could think of nothing else, and it was obvious Faulkner was finished with his end of the conversation, Joel backed away and returned to his seat. He had not managed to shake hands, and he was certain Faulkner would never remember his name.
Nevertheless, Joel had had his encounter, one that he would talk about for the rest of his life.
* * *
—
In November, Burch filed his third petition, and in December his fourth. After sitting on the case for six months, Chancellor Rumbold decided it was time to rule. In a two-page decision, he