Wish You Well(103)

Lou turned and looked at her great-grandmother. The girl stiffened when Louisa opened

her eyes and looked at her. There was a strong sense of recognition, a suspicion of a

tender smile, and Lou's hopes soared. As though not only their names, but also their

spirits, were identical, a tear trickled down me two Louisas' cheeks. Lou went to her,

slipped her hand around Louisa's, and kissed it.

"I love you, Louisa," she said, her heart so near to breaking, for she could not recall

saying those words before. Louisa's lips moved, and though Lou could not hear the

words, she clearly saw on her lips what the woman was saying back: / love you, Louisa.

And then Louisa's eyes slowly closed and did not reopen, and Lou wondered if that was

to be all of her miracle.

"Miss Lou, they want us down to the courthouse."

She turned and saw a wide-eyed Eugene standing in the doorway. "Mr. Cotton want us

both get on the stand."

Lou slowly let go of Louisa's hand, turned, and left.

A minute later Louisa's eyes opened once more. She looked around the room. Her

expression was fearful for a moment, but then grew calm. She started pushing herself up,

confused at first as to why her left side was not cooperating. She kept her gaze on the

window of the room, even as she fought hard to move herself. Inch by precious inch she

progressed, until she was half-sitting, her eyes still on that window. Louisa was breathing

heavily now, her strength and energy nearly gone after this short struggle. Yet she lay

back against her pillow and smiled. For outside the large window her mountain was now

boldly visible. The sight was so beautiful to the woman, although winter had taken most

of its color. Next year, though, it would surely all return. Like it always did. Family that

never really left you. That was what the mountain was. And her eyes remained fixed on

the familiar rise of rock and trees, even as Louisa Mae Cardinal grew very still.

In the courtroom, Cotton stood before the bench and announced in a strong voice, "I call

Miss Louisa Mae Cardinal."

A gasp went up from the crowd. And then the door opened and Lou and Eugene came in.

Miller and Goode looked smug once more as they saw it was only the child. Eugene sat

while Lou went up to the witness chair.

Fred approached. "Raise your right hand, put your left on the Bible. You swear to tell the

truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do," she said quietly, looking around at everyone staring at her. Cotton smiled

reassuringly. Out of sight of anyone, he showed her that his fingers were crossed for luck

too.

"Now, Lou, what I have to ask you is going to be painful, but I need you to answer my

questions. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Now, on the day Jimmy Skinner was killed, you were with him, right?"

Miller and Goode exchanged troubled glances. Goode got to his feet.

"Your Honor, what does this have to do with anything?"

"The Commonwealth agreed to let me explore my theory," said Cotton.

"All right," said the judge. "But don't take all day."

Cotton turned back to Lou. "You were at the mine entrance when the explosion

occurred?"

"Yes."

"Can you describe for us what happened?"

Lou swallowed, her eyes becoming watery.

"Eugene set the dynamite and came out. We were just going to wait for it to go off.

Diamond—I mean, Jimmy— ran into the mine to get Jeb, his dog, who had chased a

squirrel in mere. Eugene went in to get Jimmy. I was standing in front of the entrance

when the dynamite went off."

"Was it a loud explosion?"

"Loudest thing I've heard in my life."

"Could you say whether you heard two explosions?"

She looked confused. "No, I can't."

"Likely as not. Then what happened?"

"Well, this big rush of air and smoke came out and knocked me down."

"Must've been some force."

"It was. It truly was."

"Thank you, Lou. No further questions."

"Mr. Goode?" said Atkins.

"No questions, Your Honor. Unlike Mr. Longfellow, I'm not going to waste the jury's

valuable time with this nonsense."

"I next call Eugene Randall," said Cotton.

A nervous Eugene was on the stand. The hat Lou had given him was clutched tightly in

his hands.

"Now, Eugene, you went to the mine the day Jimmy Skinner was killed to get some coal,

correct?"

"Yes, suh."

"You use dynamite to get the coal out?'

"Yep, most folks do. Coal make good heat. Lot bet-ter'n wood."

"How many times you reckon you've used dynamite in that mine?"

Eugene thought about this. "Over the years, thirty times or mo'."