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“Yes, that’s right.”
“Would you be prepared to do so under oath?”
Baker sat up straighter and smiled as what Jack was proposing dawned on him. “I liked Anne Randolph very much. So I would actually be delighted to do so.”
CHAPTER 64
LATER, DUBOSE AND JACK MET up in the garage to prepare for their opening statement.
“So Baker will testify?” she said after Jack told her about his meeting.
“Yes. And Janice Evans?”
“Working on it. We won’t need her until the prosecution rests.”
It was eight o’clock when they both realized that they had not eaten since breakfast.
“You want to go out somewhere?” asked Jack.
“What, to get spit or worse in my food?”
At that moment the door opened and Hilly came in carrying a tray, with Frank and Jeff right behind her doing the same.
“Dinner is served, y’all,” Hilly said.
“You shouldn’t have gone to this trouble,” said DuBose, as Hilly and the others set their trays down on a sheet of thick plywood laid over two sawhorses Jack and DuBose had been using to organize their legal files.
Hilly laid out paper napkins and utensils. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’s filling.”
“It smells wonderful,” said DuBose, lifting the lid off one pot revealing beef stew.
As they started filling their plates, Hilly said, “That judge has it in for you.”
DuBose glanced up to see Hilly staring at her. “He’s actually been reasonably fair. I thought it would be much worse.”
Hilly took a newspaper off the tray and handed it to DuBose. “Evening edition.”
DuBose looked at the headline.
JUDGE BENDING OVER BACKWARDS TO AID DEFENSE
She glanced at Hilly, who said, “You get more flies with honey than vinegar.”
DuBose gazed at Hilly in understanding and said, “Okay, he wants to look good for the media. And Ambrose is probably going out of his way to appear to be on our side so we’ll have no way to argue that this whole trial has been fixed from the very start.”
Hilly said, “You see, I know when white folks are trying to pretend they’re not racist because I’ve done it myself.” She looked down. “But... I wasn’t always that way.”
“Momma?” said Jack. “What are you talking about?”
Hilly smoothed down the front of her apron and clasped her hands in front of her. She eyed the concrete floor like there was something fascinating there. She looked nervous and unsure of herself, which clearly shocked the other Lees, who knew her to always be a confident, decisive person.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this but with what happened to Lucy...” She drew a deep, calming breath. “I was the youngest of ten. Most of my siblings were long gone by the time I came along. My momma was in her forties when she had me. I was... unexpected. On the day I was born I also died, or so my momma told me years later. My daddy was a practical man, if not a nice one, so he built a little coffin for me that very day. I was laid out in my white burial clothes, and I would have been put into the ground behind the barn if the doctor who delivered me had not pressed a mirror against my mouth and got a little fog of life on it. That man saved me from being buried alive.” She glanced up at DuBose. “That doctor was a Black man named Isaac Taylor.”
Jeff said, “How did a Black doctor come to deliver you, Momma?”
“We were farmers, and the farm right next to ours was owned by the Taylor family. Isaac was from my daddy’s generation, only Black doctor I ever heard of. After medical school he came back home to serve the community and farm the land. When Momma went into a bad labor with me, one of my brothers went to fetch him. Where I’m from everybody just helped everybody.” She looked at DuBose. “Back then I just saw good and bad, that was all. Well, Isaac had a son about the time I was born. He was named Joshua. We were best friends growing up, couldn’t keep us apart. Roamed all over those mountains together. Now, my parents had their troubles from time to time and left me alone up there. When they did, the Taylors watched over me as best they could.”
“You never told me that, Hilly,” said her husband.
