The Last House on the Street(66)

As dusk started to fall, we made a huge circle in the courtyard. Curry turned on a spotlight, but the moon was full and I could see everyone’s face nearly as clear as day. We laid down our signs and held hands as we began to sing. I stood between little DeeDee and Ben. The children in the circle knew the words to many of the songs. A few nights ago, I’d taught DeeDee and Ben the couple of songs unfamiliar to them, so that on this night, their high voices rang out loud on either side of me, touching me, making me smile with the joy I always felt in a song circle.

But the darkness seemed to give the hecklers courage. More came, as if word had spread about the protest. Although I kept my focus on our song circle, I felt the energy mounting in the street and on the sidewalk.

“Which one is the Round Hill girl?” someone shouted.

“Hey, Blondie!”

I knew they were shouting at me. I was the only blond in the courtyard. My palms started to sweat. Would they turn their shouts into action? I thought of Chaney, Goodman, and Schwerner.

I spotted a couple of policemen on the sidewalk, each with a hand wrapped around the billy club at his waist, and I hoped they were eyeing the hecklers and not us. You never could tell. We kept singing. Just kept right on going. But I was scared, for myself and for the people we’d encouraged to join us here. I wanted to escape, but there was nowhere to go. I thought of the protest on Franklin Street in Chapel Hill. How we stood our ground. I clutched DeeDee and Ben’s hands. Along with everyone else, they were singing “I Love Everybody” at the top of their lungs.

An object suddenly whizzed past my head. I heard a yelp from somewhere in the circle. Then another. Then a rock broke the front window of the courthouse. The sons of bitches in the street were throwing things at us! Bottles. Rocks. Stones from the gutter. Whatever they could get their hands on, they threw. People in the circle stopped singing, let go of one another’s hands, covered their heads, and the circle turned into a sea of confusion, with people running this way and that, shouting, panicked, and I thought, Guns. What if someone has a gun? Still clutching DeeDee and Ben’s hands, I went rigid, as if I could make my skin tough enough to fight off a bullet.

“Hey Blondie,” someone shouted. “Look over here!” Like a fool, I turned to look. Something whizzed past me, and DeeDee suddenly let out a scream. I looked down to see blood running over the front of her ruffled white blouse and she pressed her hand to her cheek. I let go of Ben.

“Let me see, DeeDee!” I shouted, bending close to her. “What happened?”

She was sobbing. Miss Georgia grabbed her to examine her face. There was a deep gash on her cheek below her eye, gushing blood. Completely on impulse I pulled my white sleeveless top over my head and pressed it to the little girl’s cheek to try to stop the bleeding.

“Oh, sweetie,” I said above the din. “I’m so sorry!” I heard the wolf whistles. Turned my back to the street as I continued pressing my bloody shirt to DeeDee’s cheek.

“Here, put this on.” I turned to see Win next to me in his undershirt, holding the green shirt he’d been wearing out to me. Miss Georgia took over pressing my bloody white shell to DeeDee’s cheek and I slipped into Win’s shirt, only taking the time to fasten two of the buttons.

I looked at Win. “We need to get her to the hospital,” I said.

“Leland ran to get the truck,” Miss Georgia said. She looked out at the street. It was too dark now to see how many people were out there but the bottles and missiles and shouting seemed to have stopped, or at least slowed down, and our group was dispersing, some of the people running, others calm, and a few holding steadfast with Greg, who stood by the courthouse steps singing “We Shall Overcome” over and over in his deep and steady bass. “Don’t know how we gonna find him in this mess.” Miss Georgia looked worriedly toward the street.

“Which way did you park?” Win asked, and she pointed to the right.

“Not more than a block,” she said.

Win looked at me. “You don’t see him in a few minutes, come find me.”

We waited, huddled together, DeeDee crying in her mother’s arms, Ben holding my hand, leaning against my leg. I glanced toward the street where darkness had descended in the last few moments, and the white men, as best as I could see, had evaporated into the night. The few people who remained in the courtyard stood close to Greg, singing with him, and the words to “We Shall Overcome” filled this little patch of downtown Carlisle. I wasn’t singing. I wasn’t listening. At that moment, I was only thinking about DeeDee, hit by the rock that I knew had been meant for me.





Chapter 31



KAYLA


2010

I’m in my bedroom, putting on my walking shoes, when my phone rings. The number on the screen is unfamiliar, and against my better judgment, I answer it.

“Is this Kayla Carter?” the caller asks.

“Who’s calling, please?” I respond, already annoyed. I left Rainie on the deck playing with one of her dolls as she waits for me to get my act together and take her for a walk through the trail behind the house. I’m trying to inoculate myself against the eerie feeling I get in the woods by spending time on that trail.

“You ordered window shades and things from us,” the woman says, “and I’m afraid we’ve lost the order. The paperwork with all your choices and the measurements? We need you to fax your copy to us.”