if it remained uncorrected.
She rode Sue back, put the mare down for the night, and went into her mother's room.
She sat on the bed and took Amanda's hand and didn't move for a bit. Finally, Lou leaned
over and kissed her mother's cheek, as the tears started to trickle down the girl's face.
"Whatever happens we'll always be together. I promise. You will always have me and
Oz. Always." She rubbed at her tears. "I miss you so much." Lou kissed her again. "I love
you, Mom." She fled the room, and so Lou never saw the solitary tear leave her mother's
eye.
Lou was lying on her bed, quietly sobbing, when Oz came in. Lou did not even make an
attempt to stop her weeping. Oz crawled on the bed with her and hugged his sister.
"It'll be okay, Lou, you'll see."
Lou sat up, wiped her face, and looked at him. "I guess all we need is a miracle."
"I could give the wishing well another try," he said.
Lou shook her head. "What do we have to give up for a wish? We've already lost
everything."
They sat for some minutes in silence until Oz saw the stack of letters on Lou's desk.
"Have you read all of them?" Lou nodded. "Did you like them?" he asked.
Lou looked as though she might start bawling again. "They're wonderful, Oz. Dad wasn't
the only writer in the family."
"Can you read some more of them to me? Please?"
Lou finally said all right, she would, and Oz settled in and closed his eyes tightly.
"Why are you doing that?" she asked.
"If I close my eyes when you read the letters it's like Mom is right here talking to me."
Lou looked at the letters as though she held gold. "Oz, you are a genius!"
"I am? Why? What'd I do?" "You just found our miracle."
Dense clouds had settled over the mountains with no apparent intention to move along
anytime soon. Under a freezing rain, Lou, Oz, and Jeb raced along. Chilled to the bone,
they reached the clearing, with the old well dead ahead. They ran up to it. Oz's bear and
the photo still lay there, soaked and fouled by weather. Oz looked at the photograph and
then smiled at his sister. She bent down and took the bear, handing it to Oz.
'Take your bear back," she said tenderly. "Even if you're all grown now."
She put the photo in the bag she carried and then reached inside and pulled out the letters.
"Okay, Diamond said we had to give up the most important thing we have in the whole
world for the wishing well to work. I can't think of anything more important than Mom's
letters. So here goes."
Lou carefully placed the bundle on the edge of the well and set a large rock against it to
hold it tight against the wind.
"Now we have to wish."
"For Mom to come back?"
Lou slowly shook her head. "Oz, we have to wish for Louisa to go down to that
courthouse. Like Cotton said, it's the only way she'll keep her home."
Oz looked stricken. "But what about Mom? We might not get another chance to wish."
Lou hugged him. "I know, but after all she's done for us, we've got to do this for Louisa.
She's our family too. And the mountain means everything to her."
Oz finally nodded sadly in agreement. "You say it then."
Lou held Oz's hand, closed her eyes, and he did too. "We wish that Louisa Mae Cardinal
will get up from her bed and show everyone that she's just fine."
Together they said, "Amen, Jesus." And then they ran as fast as they could away from
that place, both hoping and praying that there was just one wish left in that pile of old
brick and stagnant water.
Late that night Cotton walked along the deserted main street of Dickens, hands stuffed
into his pockets, the loneliest man in the world. Cold rain fell steadily, but he was
oblivious to it. He sat on a covered bench and eyed the flicker of the street's gas lamps
behind the fall of rain. The nameplate on the lamp post was bold and clear: "Southern
Valley Coal and Gas." An empty coal truck drifted down the street. A backfire resounded
from its tailpipe; the small explosion violently broke the silence of the night.
Cotton watched the truck go by and then slumped down. Yet as his gaze once again
caught the flicker of the gas lamp, a flicker of an idea seeped into his mind. He sat up,
stared after that coal truck, and then back at that gas lamp. That's when the flicker became
a firm idea. And then a rain-soaked Cotton Longfellow stood tall and clapped his hands
together, and it sounded like the mighty smack of thunder, for the firm idea had become a
miracle of his own.
Minutes later Cotton came into Louisa's room. He stood by the bed and gripped the
unconscious woman's hand. "I swear to you, Louisa Mae Cardinal, you will not lose your