Wish You Well(108)

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 Bu-ford 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.