The court reporter exited first, with Benjamin Meyers holding the door. Reeves and Lindquist stormed out of chambers. I could see sweat dripping down the back of Reeves’s neck, revealing a wet ring around his shirt collar.
CHAPTER
69
At the end of court that day, the governor finally acted on his intention to call in the National Guard. I was met outside my judicial chambers by four Alabama Guard soldiers. Two Black men, one white female, and one white male.
The white man appeared to be in charge, but I addressed my question to all of them.
“What are y’all doing hanging outside my door?”
The white man said, “The Guard has been called out. We’re assigned to see you safely in and out of court.”
Well, that was unnerving. I didn’t want them there. I didn’t need them.
“Thank y’all so much! But I guarantee, I can get to and from the parking lot on my own.”
The white guy held up his hand. Like he was giving me an unspoken order to shut my mouth.
What the hell?
I almost said it:Do you know who you’re talking to?
But he didn’t give me the opportunity. He placed a finger on a bud in his ear and said, “Code 10-44. Status. Code 10-44.”
And the guardsman at the rear placed a firm hand on my shoulder. It gave me a jolt when I realized: They were literally restraining me.
I shook him off and then swung around to scold the young Black man. “Where on God’s earth did you get the idea you could put hands on me? I’m a circuit judge, and this is my courtroom.”
I was about to lay into all of them when the white guard clutched my shoulder, turned me back to face him. “We’re clear,” he said. “Judge, we’ve been ordered to escort you safely to the city limits. Once we’re sure no one is following you, you’ll be free to carry on.”
“I don’t need to be escorted to the city limits. I know my way around this town.”
“We have our orders from the governor’s office. To escort you out of the city.”
Invoking the governor’s authority set my temper to a boil. “I already told you, I don’t need an escort to the city limits. You tell the governor, from Judge Stone: This has never been one of his sundown towns. You’re in the Black Belt of Alabama. Can’t run us out of town. We’re everywhere.”
One of the Black guardsmen covered his mouth. Looked like someone appreciated my humor.
The guy in charge released his grip. Which was a good thing; I didn’t have to bat his hand away.
He sounded more civil when he said, “I’m aware that you’re in total control—when you’re in the courtroom. Outside of it, though, you’re in my domain. And that includes public thoroughfares. Like it or not, Judge, I’ve got my orders from the governor. We’re seeing to it that you make it safely out of town.”
I didn’t like it.
I searched his face, looking for answers, picking up clues. The guardsman might have been a jerk, but he wasn’t there to mess with me. I was curious.
“Why now? All this extra security, walking me out to my car. Following me through town. This trial will be over in a few days. How come you’re just now showing up?”
I started walking through the courthouse with my escort, like a rock star surrounded by security guards.
“Chatter, Judge Stone.”
That set me back. “Chatter? What’s that supposed to mean?”
His voice dropped; apparently, we were discussing some super-secret information. “Chatter.”
“Chatter where? Social media? People have been saying reckless things on there, but I don’t pay attention to that. Not since I changed my cell phone number, anyway. It’s a distraction from my job. I just have to ignore it.”
