Chapter 58
CHAPTER
Nova Jones
BULLOCK COUNTY COURTHOUSE UNION SPRINGS, ALABAMA
The old brick courthouse in Union Springs was straight ahead. Nova could see it through the windshield. And it was getting bigger and taller, bigger and taller and scarier.
Nova was scrunched up in the back of a police car, next to her mama. Mama wouldn’t even look at her. Mama was ashamed. And scared.
So it was Nova and Mama in the back seat, with Sheriff Mick Owens up front driving, but Nova wasn’t there. Not really. Reason for that was, none of it was real. Nothing felt real anymore, not to Nova. It was all a terrible bad dream.
Not only a dream, though. There were things that had happened to Nova.
Things done to her, that brought her to that place.
That wasn’t fair. It was wrong. So, so wrong.
She’d been raped. She couldn’t forget what they done to her.
How they done it. Almost a year gone by.
But it was still all locked up in her head.
Locked up tight. Because she couldn’t tell anybody what happened.
She was so alone. Alone with her secret shame.
The courthouse was getting closer. Too close. If she could, Nova would open the car door. Jump out and run off, as far from that courthouse as she could get.
But there was no way out for her. Outside the police car, angry white people were yelling. Coming off the sidewalk, right up to the police car. They were screaming at her, at Nova. Yelling her name. Yelling bad words.
She clutched her hands together in her lap. She wished she could roll down the car window. Those white people were so close, she could reach out and grab them. She wanted to. Wanted to shake them hard, make them stop.
Nova had never seen so many people in Union Springs. And she’d lived there her whole life. All shouting, angry, cussing. Why were all the people angry—mad at her? They made ugly faces, acted like her name was a dirty word when they said it out loud.
It made her feel dirty. And guilty.
The sheriff said those people out there, they’re too close to the car. He flipped a button, and the siren started wailing. Nova clapped her hands over her ears, but it didn’t shut out the noise from the siren or the people in the street.
She slid down in the seat. She could see through the front windshield, there were white people holding signs. She couldn’t read them, not with the sun hitting the window, making a glare. But she heard more voices. They were chanting together. In rhythm.
“Lock her up! Lock her up!”
Nova felt hot vomit rise up her throat. Thought she was going to puke all over the back seat of the police car. She thought they wanted to lock her in jail.
Then she caught a good look through the glass. Saw that one of the signs said Dr. Gaines’s name. It was the doctor they wanted to lock up. Not Nova, after all. That made her almost as sick as when she thought they meant her.
She stared at the pushing, shouting people. Wondered what they were doing to Dr. Bria. The doctor helped Nova. Nobody else helped her. Nobody except for the school nurse.
And she was dead.
Somebody killed Nurse Bass.
The sheriff stopped the car right in front of the courthouse. Nova’s mama opened her own door, on the street side. Mama got out and disappeared into the crowd.
Nova tried to unbuckle her seat belt. But her hands felt unreal. So did her arms. Her legs were jelly.
The sheriff’s face appeared in her window. It surprised her, almost made her pee her pants. He opened the car door. Not talking, didn’t say a word. She couldn’t tell if the man even saw her, not with his sunglasses. Just held the door open.
Mama was behind him, on the sidewalk. Mama still wouldn’t look at her.
The crowd of people edged closer to the car, still yelling, chanting. The screaming and shouting made Nova feel like she’d go deaf. Her face felt like it was on fire.
She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t even move, couldn’t get out of the back seat. Too scared of what was outside.
Mama finally looked at her. Then Mama stepped over, scooted in front of the sheriff. She reached into the car and took Nova’s hand.
“C’mon, baby girl. We have to go inside. We going to court.”