He was halfway down the sidewalk when one of the boys shouted after him.
“Hey, dude! You want Nova’s number? Just call 4-1-7-I-M-A-H-O!”
Meyers unlocked his car, slid into the driver’s seat, and started it up.
The boys were still shouting. A couple of catcalls reached him. Suggestions of what Nova would do for a price.
“Shit,” Meyers muttered. He put the car in gear and pulled out. He was relieved to have the BCHS hornet in his rearview mirror.
He wished he’d never visited the school. It left him with a bad feeling. Like a storm was rolling in. The kind that turned the sky green and made even Alabama gators run for cover.
CHAPTER
46
Mary Stone
UNION SPRINGS, ALABAMA
By Saturday, it seemed like Mason Phelps had invited the whole damn town to his rally.
And I couldn’t stay away.
I know my decision to show up was foolhardy. Hotheaded. And injudicious—a troubling quality for a judge.
But I had to stand up, see it for myself.
I begged off from cleanup after breakfast on the farm, left it to my sisters to wash pots and pans and clear away the trash. Nellie wasn’t happy. She demanded to know why I was cutting out.
So I lied. I came up with some bullshit excuse about a meeting of the area bar association and just took off.
I needed to do this alone. I didn’t want my sisters with me in Union Springs that day. I had a feeling. A bad one.
When I turned onto Prairie Street, it was already crowded.Vehicles lined the road, taking up every available parking space. I turned into my designated spot behind the courthouse.
At least the signRESERVED FOR CIRCUIT JUDGE MARY STONEstill counted for something.
As I opened my car door, I could see the crowd pouring in from the side streets and moving toward the main drag. The sheer volume amazed me. Made me nervous.
But I’d come this far. I had to see what was cooking at the pro-life, white-supremacy get-together. Whowereall these people? Where were they coming from?
I walked around the courthouse, shouldered my way through the mass of humanity on the sidewalk, and climbed the front steps to get a bird’s-eye view. The pro-life protesters were out in force, milling around in front of the courthouse with signs like the ones I’d seen before.
LIFE BEGINS AT CONCEPTION
RIGHTS BEGIN IN THE WOMB
A CHILD, NOT A CHOICE
No surprise in that message. Nothing surprising about the messengers, either. In fact, the pro-lifers looked a lot like the people I’d seen the other day, when I ended up face down on Prairie Street.
What I hadn’t expected was the counterprotest. A pro–reproductive rights group had assembled. Mostly young people. But definitely not locals. I was nearly blinded by the intense hues of their hair dye. I saw a lot of hot pink, some purple, some green, some blue. Their signs were just as colorful. Lots of neon-bright lettering.
ABORTION IS HEALTH CARE
BANS OFF OUR BODIES
OUR BODIES, OUR ABORTIONS
