Дэвид Балдаччи - Wish You Well

“Let me give you good folks the legal side of the case first. And it’s not complicated at all. In fact it’s like a good bird dog, it points straight and true in one direction, and one direction only.” He took one hand from his pocket and, like a good hound, pointed right at Hugh Miller as he spoke. “The reckless actions of Southern Valley killed Jimmy Skinner, you folks can have no doubts about that. Southern Valley’s not even disputing it. They were illegally on Louisa Mae’s property. They posted no warnings that the mine was filled with explosive gas. They allowed innocent people to enter that mine when they knew it was deadly. It could’ve been any of you. And they did not come forward with the truth because they knew they were in the wrong. And now they seek to use the tragedy of Louisa Mae’s stroke as a way to take her land. The law clearly says one cannot profit from one’s misdeeds. Well, if what Southern Valley did does not qualify as a misdeed, then nothing on this earth ever would.” His voice up to this point had been slow and steady. Now it rose one delicate notch, but he kept his finger pointed at Hugh Miller. “One day God will hold them accountable for killing an innocent young man. But it’s your job to see that they are punished today.”

Cotton looked at each and every juror, stopping on George Davis; he spoke directly to him. “Now, let’s get to the nonlegal part of this business, for I think that’s where the struggle you folks are going through lies. Southern Valley has come in here swinging bags full of money in front of you, telling you that it’s the savior of the whole town. But that’s what the lumber folks told you. They’re going to be here forever. Remember? So why were all the lumber camps on rails? How much more temporary can you get? And where are they now? Last time I checked, Kentucky was not part of the Commonwealth of Virginia.”

He looked over at Miller. “And the coal companies told you the same thing. And what did they do? They came and took everything they wanted and left you with nothing except hollowed-out mountains, family with the black lung and dreams replaced with nightmares. And now Southern Valley’s singing that same old tune with gas. It’s just one more needle in the mountain’s hide. Just one more thing to suck out, leaving nothing!” Cotton turned and addressed the entire courtroom.

“But this isn’t really about Southern Valley, or coal or gas. It’s ultimately about all of you. Now, they can cut the top of that mountain easy enough, pull out that gas, run their fine seamless steel pipeline, and it might keep going for ten, fifteen, even twenty years. But then it’ll all be gone. You see, that pipeline is taking the gas to other places, just like the trains did the coal, and the river did the trees. Now, why is that, do you think?” He took his time looking around the room. “I’ll tell you why. Because that’s where the real prosperity is, folks. At least in the way Southern Valley defines it. And all of you know that. These mountains just got what they need to keep that prosperity going and their pockets filled. And so they come here and they take it.

“Dickens, Virginia, will never be a New York City, and let me tell you there’s not a damn thing wrong with that. In fact, I believe we have us enough big cities, and a dwindling number of places like right here. Y’all will never become rich working at the foot of these mountains. Those who will claim great wealth are the Southern Valleys of the world, who take from the land and give nothing back to it. You want a real savior? Look at yourselves. Rely on each other. Just like Louisa Mae’s been doing her whole life up on that mountain. Farmers live on the whim of the weather and the ground. Some years they lose, other years are fine. But for them, the resources of the mountain are never extinguished, because they do not tear its soul away. And their reward for that is being able to live a decent, honest life for as long as they so desire, without the fear that folks intent on nothing more than making a pile of gold by raping mountains will come with grand promises, and then leave when there is nothing to be gained by staying, and destroy innocent lives in the process.”

He pointed to Lou where she sat in the courtroom. “Now, that girl’s daddy wrote many wonderful stories about this area, and those very issues of land, and the people who live on it. In words, Jack Cardinal has enabled this place to survive forever. Just like the mountains. He had an exemplary teacher, for Louisa Mae Cardinal has lived her life the way all of us should. She’s helped many of you at some point in your lives and asked for nothing in return.” Cotton looked at Buford Rose and some of the other farmers staring at him. “And you’ve helped her when she needed it. You know she’d never sell her land, because that ground is as much a part of her family as her great-grandchildren waiting to see what’s going to happen to them. You can’t let Southern Valley steal the woman’s family. All folks have up on that mountain is each other and their land. That’s all. It may not seem like much to those who don’t live there, or for people who seek nothing but to destroy the rock and trees. But rest assured, it means everything to the people who call the mountains home.”

Cotton stood tall in front of the jury box, and though his voice remained level and calm, the large room seemed inadequate to contain his words.

“You folks don’t have to be an expert in the law to reach the right decision in this case. All you got to have is a heart. Let Louisa Mae Cardinal keep her land.”

CHAPTER FORTY

Lou stared out the window of her bedroom at the grand sweep of land as it bolted right up to the foothills and then on to the mountains, where the leaves on all but the evergreens were gone. The naked trees were still quite something to behold, though now they appeared to Lou to be poor grave markers for thousands of dead, their mourners left with not much.

“You should have come back, Dad,” she said to the mountains he had immortalized with words and then shunned the rest of his life.

She had returned to the farm with Eugene after the jury had gone into deliberation. She had no desire to be there when the verdict came in. Cotton had said he would come tell them the decision. He said he did not expect it to take long. Cotton did not say whether he thought that was good or bad, but he did not look hopeful. Now all Lou could do was wait. And it was hard, for everything around her could be gone tomorrow, depending on what a group of strangers decided. Well, one of them wasn’t a stranger; he was more like a mortal enemy.

Lou traced her father’s initials with her finger on the desk. She had sacrificed her mother’s letters for a miracle that had never bothered to come, and it pained her so. She went downstairs and stopped at Louisa’s room. Through the open door she saw the old bed, the small dresser, a bowl and pitcher on top of it. The room was small, its contents spare, just like the woman’s life. Lou covered her face. It just wasn’t right. She stumbled into the kitchen to start the meal.

As she was pulling out a pot, Lou heard a noise behind her and turned. It was Oz. She wiped at her eyes, for she still wanted to be strong for him. Yet as she focused on his expression, Lou realized she had no need to worry about her brother. Something had seized him; she didn’t know what. But her brother had never looked this way before. Without a word, he took her hand and drew his sister back down the hallway.

The jury filed into the courtroom, a dozen men from the mountain and the town, at least eleven of whom Cotton could hope would do the right thing. The jury had been out for many hours, longer than Cotton had thought probable. He did not know if that was good or bad. The real card against him, he knew, was that of desperation. It was a strong opponent, because it could so easily prey upon those who worked so hard every day simply to survive, or upon those who saw no future in a place where everything was being carved out and taken away. Cotton would loathe the jurors if they went against him, yet he knew they easily could. Well, at least it would soon be over.