This time, Judge Norton stared in our direction for a long time. He smiled, but it didn’t really show in his eyes, nor tug at the corners of his mouth. It was more like a small, troubling gaze. Puzzled, I cast my eyes downward while Mr. Morgan scribbled notes on a pad.
Then the judge said, “This proceeding is somewhat unusual. As it stands, it’s the first in this Kentucky court’s history where such a request for an emancipation application has been solicited. To save time and get to the bottom of this, I have allowed new evidence, which seems undisputed from Miss Lovett’s own mouth. Based on that I am inclined to deny the emancipation application.”
Gasps and hisses rose in back of me. Again, I dared not look, lest they see the shame and misery of my unshed tears. The bailiff called out, “Order in the court. No utterances. Order.”
Mr. Morgan turned around and fixed his eyes on the people who had made the noises.
Judge Norton leaned back and looked down his long, slender nose at Mr. Morgan. “Counselor, before I rule, do you have any points you wish to raise or any new evidence of your own to offer?”
The lawyer stood. “May I have five minutes, Your Honor? As the court notes, this has been a rather unusual proceeding. I believe with just a few minutes with my client and perhaps others, we can give the court the whole story, not mere snippets.”
“Mr. Vessels, I’ve given you a lot of leeway. It would seem only fair to grant Mr. Morgan’s request,” the judge said.
Mr. Vessels stood up and, smiling broadly, said, “No objection whatsoever, Your Honor.”
“The Court will recess for fifteen minutes. Mr. Morgan, we’ll hear from you then.” He stepped down and disappeared somewhere in the back, the sound of his long, black robe swishing into the murmurs of those behind us.
Mr. Morgan turned to me. “Stay here, Honey. I see R.C. and a few others back there. Let’s see what they know.”
Thirty-Nine
Clips of strained conversation rose and fell in the back of the courtroom. Turning partway, I was surprised to see Eula Foster speaking with Mr. Morgan. If she saw my shock, the librarian didn’t show it because she barely glanced my way and went right on talking to the lawyer. But the damning was there, and we all knew I’d committed an unforgivable wrong. Several times, Miss Foster shook her head, looking back at me unfavorably.
I was sure I’d be handed my walking papers as they dragged me off to the House of Reform. After all, I was morally indecent, godless, an It, and now a criminal in the state’s eyes. And soon the town, the whole state of Kentucky even, would declare it true. My eyes landed on the other faces of townsfolk who had slipped in and now filled half the benches. Alonzo’s eyes were full of so much pity that I tore my gaze away, saddened to glimpse the sorrow and worriment swallowed in his weathered face.
I turned back to the librarian. Beside Eula stood Amara Ballard. She talked excitedly to Mr. Morgan, her hands flying fast. Pearl and R.C. flanked Mr. Morgan’s other side. Once in a while Pearl’s troubled eyes fell on mine.
Mr. Morgan came back to the table just as the bailiff said, “All rise.”
The judge entered and took the bench. “Are you ready to proceed, Mr. Morgan?”
“Yes, Your Honor. I would like to present real witness testimony on behalf of Miss Lovett.”
“How many witnesses and how long do you expect to take, Counselor?”
“Three, Your Honor. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes for each.”
Judge Norton rubbed a hand over his clean-shaven jaw and mused on the lawyer’s request. “Proceed,” he said with a short sigh.
“Thank you, Your Honor. I’d like to call frontier nurse Amara Ballard up to the witness stand.”
The judge swore her in, and Mr. Morgan said, “Please tell the court the relationship you have with Miss Lovett.”