Back in session, Steven handed Lovely a copy of her memoir, which she identified. He asked that it be admitted into evidence.
Monty Martin stood and said, “Your Honor, we have no objection as long as it’s understood that we’re not agreeing that everything in that book is actually true. We reserve the right to cross-examine the witness from her own book.”
“Of course,” said Judge Burch.
Steven returned to the podium and asked, “Ms. Jackson, why did you write this book?”
She took a long pause and studied the floor. “Well, I did it so my people will never be forgotten. I wanted to preserve the story of Dark Isle from the time my ancestors arrived from Africa. So many of the slave stories have not been told and have been forgotten. I want people to know and remember how they suffered, and how they survived. Today, we don’t know the real history because it has not been taught, and it’s not been taught because so much has been forgotten. People don’t want to talk about what happened to the slaves.”
He asked her about her writing process. How long did it take to write the book? Off and on, ten years. Did she seek advice? Not really, just read some magazine pieces. She wrote it in longhand and paid a young lady, a schoolteacher, to type it up for her. When it was finished she didn’t know what to do with it. The same lady, the typist, said she should look for a publisher, but she wasn’t sure how to go about it. Some time passed, nothing happened, then someone told her about a company that would print the book for $2,000 and make five hundred copies. That’s how the book got published.
Steven was not about to ask if the five hundred copies had sold. He knew they had not and he wasn’t about to embarrass his client. Instead, he switched gears and asked about the decision to leave (never “abandon”) Dark Isle. Lovely took a deep breath and looked down. She and her mother were the only two left. The village was sad and depressing, and all their family and friends were gone. They had little to eat and some days ate nothing at all. A friend came to get them and finally convinced them it was time to go. They moved in with another friend on Camino Island and went to work in the canneries. After her mother died in 1971, Lovely got married to a man with a good job. She moved up a notch and worked in the hotels. She longed for the island and wanted to see it, but her husband had no interest. She paid a man named Herschel Landry, a fisherman with a boat, to take her out several times a year so she could tend to her family’s graves in the cemetery. She did this for many years, until Herschel sold his boat and moved away. By then her husband had left her.
Lovely was suddenly tired and removed her glasses. It was almost noon and everyone needed a break. Judge Burch recessed until 2:00 p.m.
The nearest diner was across the street from the courthouse. Since the weather was nice, Bruce reserved a table on the patio and welcomed Mercer and Thomas, Steven and Diane, and Lovely and Miss Naomi to his little corner. He ordered iced tea and coffee. Gifford Knox arrived a few minutes later, on a cane, and ordered a whiskey sour.
Lovely had performed brilliantly on direct examination, and, so far, there was nothing to worry about. She was a bit fatigued but thought a good lunch would get her ready for the afternoon.
Steven and Diane had spent hours with her, crafting her testimony, deciding what was important and what could be left out, anticipating attacks from the other side. Steven had even tried some old courtroom tricks to trip her, but they had not worked. She had been unflappable, both in rehearsal and this morning onstage.
Their discussion was about how long to keep Lovely on the witness stand. Telling her entire story would consume hours and hours and, at some point, become monotonous. Steven knew from experience that good witnesses were often destroyed because they said too much. On the other hand, a great witness needed to be heard. The truth was that Lovely’s memoir was in evidence and had already been studied by Judge Burch and all the lawyers. The challenge was deciding how much to go over again and how much to leave alone.
Everyone at the table had an opinion about Judge Burch. Since he was the sole juror, his demeanor, body language, and reactions were of the utmost interest. So far, he was proving to be remarkably poker-faced. He absorbed every word, took a few notes, ruled on objections quickly, and gave away nothing. He appeared to be involved in the case and eager to hear the testimony.
