AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As they walked off, Kenny LeRoy glanced back apprehensively at them.
“The next generation,” said Jack. “Let’s hope to God they do the right thing.”’
“But our generation has to do its share, too,” countered DuBose.
On the drive back to the Lees’ house, Jack said, “You did a first-rate job on Herman Till’s cross.”
“And Battle blew it all right out of the water with one question that Till should never have been allowed to answer, but Ambrose let him, the son of a bitch.”
“So now Pearl was carrying a big knife, Jerome’s bloody clothes, fifty dollars cash, and his size fourteen shoes that are about as big as she is?”
“If the jury wants to believe it, logic doesn’t have to play a part,” pointed out DuBose. “And from what I’ve seen there is very little logic on that jury.”
“But unless you want to give up right now, we have to keep going,” noted Jack.
“Oh, we’re going to keep fighting, all right.”
“Until justice runs down like water and righteousness like a mighty river?”
She looked at him appreciatively. “Now you’re talking like a civil rights lawyer, Jack Lee.”
CHAPTER 70
LATE THAT NIGHT DUBOSE WENT to Lucy’s old room to go to bed. Queenie was already asleep on her blanket.
DuBose undressed down to her slip, and wrapped her hair. Then she idly wandered around the room, looking at the possessions the dead woman had cherished so much that she had displayed them. Some stuffed animals from her never-ending childhood. A picture book full of toads. A frilly pink dress. A Mickey Mouse figurine.
She picked up an empty glass bottle of Coca-Cola that had a large, floppy artificial sunflower inside it. On the wall was a photograph of the Lees. Jack and his brother were tall, angular teenagers. They stood on either side of their older sister, arms protectively around her. On either side of them were Hilly and Frank Lee. They looked happy, thought DuBose. With no idea what the future held for them—the loss and accompanying heartache.
Just like every family. Just like my family.
She carried the Coca-Cola bottle over to the bed and sat down with it in her lap.
How much longer are you going to do this, Desiree? Because there will always be another train to catch, or plane to hop on, another city to go to, another case to try, more justice to secure. Are your shoulders wide enough? Can you sacrifice just a little bit more of your time on earth for a cause that will probably never be fully realized while you’re still breathing?
She put a hand through her new hairdo under the wrap and liked how it felt; her fingers seemed to tingle with the freshness of the style. But then a depression seized her, as it sometimes did. She set the Coke bottle on the nightstand, slipped off the bed, stood in front of a mirror hanging on the wall, and took a good, long look at herself.
In less than a handful of years she would be forty. Then, before she could blink, fifty. Then, in another heartbeat, sixty.
If I haven’t been killed.
Then what comes after that, Desiree?
Distressingly, she found she had no answer.
DuBose had just slipped under the covers when there was a knock on the door.
“Yes?”
“It’s Hilly. May I come in?”
DuBose sat up. “Of course.”
The door opened, revealing Hilly wearing a long pale blue robe that accentuated her lean frame. She sat in a chair by the bed, and looked around. “Lot of memories in this room.”
“I’m sure.”
Hilly picked up the bottle with the sunflower, her face easing into a sad smile. “This was Lucy’s first Coca-Cola. And Jack won the sunflower for her at the county fair.”
