A Touch of Autumn(48)

When they arrived in Atlanta, Jeremiah tried to act nonchalant, but his eyes widened at the teeming crowds. They barely had time to hire a cab and ride to the courthouse where Trent’s and Mrs. Saunders’s attorneys met them. Charles nodded in satisfaction to see that Jeremiah and his mother were well represented.

The trial seemed almost anticlimactic after the emotional hearing they’d had at the sheriff’s office in Rome. In spite of two bogus witnesses, who tried to assert that Frank Saunders had abused his son, the boy’s own horrified denial as well as his mother’s convinced the jury. Under questioning from Mrs. Saunders’s attorney, one of the “witnesses” admitted under oath that he’d been paid to lie on the stand.

In less than two hours, Edward Saunders had been convicted of fraud and child beating.

Satisfaction ran through Charles as he walked outside with Trent, Mrs. Saunders and Jeremiah.

The attorneys had assured them that one of the stipulations of any future parole for Saunders would be that he go nowhere near his sister-in-law, his nephew or their property.

After a lingering and luxurious midday meal at the hotel, Mrs. Saunders expressed a need to go shopping, so Trent volunteered to accompany her.

Charles took Jeremiah to several museums, saving his favorite for last. He knew from Helen that Jeremiah was fascinated with the Battle of Atlanta, and had perused the history book containing the story over and over.

“Let’s go in this building, Jeremiah. They have a painting I think you’ll be interested in.”

Jeremiah groaned, but followed his mentor up the steps and through the massive door.

They stepped into the reception area and Charles asked to see the Cyclorama. Jeremiah gave him a curious glance, but the receptionist smiled and directed them toward a large room at the side.

A tour was beginning as they walked in and the narrator motioned for them to take a seat with the others.

Jeremiah drew in a breath when he saw the panorama stretching out on all sides. As the narrator gave details of the Battle of Atlanta, the painting seemed to take on a life of its own.

By the time Charles and his student left, Jeremiah was almost ashen.

“Let’s go get something to drink,” Charles said. “How does hot cocoa sound?”

Jeremiah nodded, but didn’t speak until he sat on a chair across the small table from Charles. “It was like being there.”

Charles nodded. “A company called Panorama is responsible for the Cyclorama of the Battle of Atlanta. And I agree. It’s almost like being there.”

“But, it shows the Yankees’ victory more than anything.”

“Yes, believe it or not, the painting first traveled with a circus, but when the circus got to Atlanta, the people here were furious and refused to look at it. The circus eventually went bankrupt. In fact, the animals are mostly in the zoo here. Would you like to see them before we return to the hotel?”

“No, sir. I’d rather not.”

“One day I’d like for you to look at the painting again. There is much more than the victory of the Northern troops depicted there.”

“I know.” Jeremiah nodded. “I saw a lot more, really. It was horrible, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. It certainly was. For both sides.”

They finished their hot drinks and headed back to the hotel, where they found an excited Trent.

“Where’s Ma?”

“Upstairs packing all the new clothes she just bought. She said to tell you to come up, if you like.”

Jeremiah headed for the elevator and soon was out of sight.

Trent gripped Charles’s arm. “I just got some news that might relate to Lily Ann.”

Charles gave his friend a wary look. Lily Ann’s accident had happened at Trent’s house, when a runaway horse had kicked the little girl and she’d fallen, hitting her head. Or had the horse kicked her in the head? Well, regardless, the poor child had ended up totally blind. Since the parents refused to send her away to school, she became the only blind student at Quincy, boarding through the week and going home on weekends. When Charles first arrived at Quincy, Trent seemed obsessed with finding a cure for the child, but lately, he’d seemed to have given up hope.

Charles followed Trent into the dining room, where they ordered coffee. “So tell me about it.”

“There’s a new hospital here in Atlanta called Grady Hospital. They have a trauma department doing all sorts of research. I spoke to one of the specialists about Lily Ann. Told him all the details and all the doctors I’d spoken to.”

“He offered hope?”

“Well, it depends. He agreed that there is probably nothing at this point that medicine or surgery can do. Although, of course, he’d need to examine her to say conclusively. Which, of course, her parents won’t allow anymore.”