Дэвид Балдаччи - Wish You Well

“What do you think you’re doing, Diamond Skinner?”

“Come get you,” said the boy, standing there next to his faithful hound.

“For what?”

In answer he pointed at the moon. It glowed more brightly than Lou had ever seen before. So fine was her view, she could see dark smudges on its surface.

“I can see the moon all by myself, thank you very much,” she said.

Diamond smiled. “Naw, not just that. Fetch your brother. Come on, now, it be fun where we going. You see.”

Lou looked unsure. “How far is it?”

“Not fer. Ain’t scared of the dark, are ya?”

“Wait right there,” she said and shut the window.

In five minutes’ time Lou and Oz were fully dressed and had crept out of the farmhouse and joined Diamond and Jeb.

Lou yawned. “This better be good, Diamond, or you should be scared for waking us up.”

They set out at a good pace to the south. Diamond kept up an animated chatter the whole way, yet absolutely refused to divulge where they were going. Lou finally quit trying and looked at the boy’s bare feet as he stepped easily over some sharp-edged rocks. She and Oz were wearing their shoes.

“Diamond, don’t your feet ever get sore or cold?” she asked as they paused on a small knoll to catch their breath.

“Snow comes, then mebbe y’all see something on my feet, but only if it drifts to more’n ten foot or so. Come on now.”

They set off again, and twenty minutes later, Lou and Oz could hear the quickened rush of water. A minute later Diamond put up his hand and they all stopped. “Got to go real slow here,” he said. They followed him closely as they moved over rocks that were becoming more slippery with each step; and the sound of the rushing water seemed to be coming at them from all quarters, as though they were about to be confronted by a tidal wave. Lou gripped Oz’s hand for it was all a little unnerving to her, and thus she assumed her brother must be suffering stark terror. They cleared a stand of towering birch and weeping willow heavy with water, and Lou and Oz looked up in awe.

The waterfall was almost one hundred feet high. It poured out from a crop of worn limestone and plummeted straight down into a pool of foamy water, which then snaked off into the darkness. And then Lou suddenly realized what Diamond had meant about the moon. It glowed so brightly, and the waterfall and pool were placed so perfectly, that the trio were surrounded by a sea of illumination. The reflected light was so strong, in fact, that night seemed to have been turned into day.

They moved back farther, to a place where they could still see everything but the noise of the falls wasn’t as intense and they could speak without having to shout over the thunder of the water.

“Feeder line for the McCloud River is all,” said Diamond. “Right higher’n most though.”

“It looks like it’s snowing upwards,” said Lou, as she sat, amazed, upon a moss-covered rock. And with the frothing water kicking high and then seized by the powerful light, it did look like snow was somehow returning to the sky. At one corner of the pool the water was especially brilliant. They gathered at this place.

Diamond said very solemnly, “Right there’s where God done touched the earth.”

Lou leaned forward and examined the spot closely. She turned to Diamond and said, “Phosphorus.”

“What?” he said.

“I think it’s phosphorus rock. I’ve studied it in school.”

“Say that word agin,” said Diamond.

And she did, and Diamond said it over and over until it slipped quite easily out of his mouth. He proclaimed it a grand and pleasing word to say, yet still defined it as a thing God had touched, and Lou did not have the heart to say otherwise.

Oz leaned forward and dipped his hand into the pool, then pulled it back immediately and shivered.

“Always that way,” said Diamond, “even on the hottest durn day.” He looked around, a smile on his lips. “But it sure purty.”

“Thanks for bringing us,” said Lou.

“Tote all my friends here,” he said amiably and then looked to the sky. “Hey, y’all knowed your stars good?”

“Some of them,” Lou said. “The Big Dipper, and Pegasus.”

“Ain’t never heard’a none of them.” Diamond pointed to the northern sky. “Turn your head a little and right there’s what I call the bear what missing one leg. And over to there’s the stone chimbly. And right there”—he stabbed his finger more to the south—“now right there is Jesus a’sitting next to God. Only God ain’t there, ’cause he off doing good. ’Cause he God. But you see the chair.” He looked back at them. “Ain’tcha’ now? See it?”

Oz said that he could see them all, clear as day though it was night. Lou hesitated, wondering whether it was better to instruct Diamond on proper constellations or not. She finally smiled. “You know a lot more about stars than we do, Diamond. Now that you pointed them out, I can see them all too.”

Diamond grinned big. “Well, up here on the mountain, we a lot closer to ’em than down to the city. Don’t worry, I teach you good.”

They spent a pleasant hour there and then Lou thought it would be best if they got back.

They were about halfway home when Jeb started growling and making slow circles in the tall grass, his snout wrinkled and his teeth bared.

“What’s wrong with him, Diamond?” asked Lou.

“Just smells something. Lotta critters round. Don’t pay him no mind.”

Suddenly Jeb took off running hard and howling so loud it hurt their ears.

“Jeb!” Diamond called after him. “You come back here now.” The dog never slowed, though, and they finally saw why. The black bear was moving in long strides across the far fringe of the meadow.

“Dang it, Jeb, leave that bear be.” Diamond raced after the dog, and Lou and Oz ran after Diamond. But dog and bear soon left the two-legs in the dust. Diamond finally stopped, gasping for air, and Lou and Oz ran up to him and fell on the ground, their lungs near bursting.

Diamond smacked his fist into his palm. “Dang that dog.”

“Will that bear hurt him?” asked Oz anxiously.

“Shoot, naw. Jeb pro’bly tree the durn thing and then get tired and go on home.” Diamond didn’t look convinced though. “Come on now.”

They walked briskly for some minutes, until Diamond slowed, looked around, and held up his hand for them to stop. He turned, put a finger to his lips, and motioned for them to follow, but to keep low. They scooted along for about thirty feet, and then Diamond went down on his belly and Lou and Oz did too. They crawled forward and were soon on the rim of a little hollow. It was surrounded by trees and underbrush, the limbs and vines overhanging the place and forming a natural roof, but the shafts of moonlight had broken through in places, leaving the space well illuminated.

“What is it?” Lou wanted to know.

“Shh,” Diamond said, and then cupped his hand around her ear and whispered. “Man’s still.”

Lou looked again, and picked up on the bulky contraption with its big metal belly, copper tubing, and wooden block legs. Jugs to be filled with the corn whiskey sat on boards placed over stacked stone. A lit kerosene lamp was hooked to a slender post thrust into the moist ground. Steam rose from the still. They heard movement.

Lou flinched as George Davis appeared next to the still and flopped down a forty-pound burlap bag. The man was intent on his work and apparently never heard them. Lou looked at Oz, who was shaking so hard Lou was afraid George Davis might feel the ground vibrating. She tugged at Diamond and pointed to where they had come from. Diamond nodded in agreement and they began to slither backward. Lou glanced back at the still, but Davis had disappeared. She froze. And then she nearly screamed because she heard something coming and feared the worst.