Wish You Well(110)

all. And between them, held up almost solely by her children, was Amanda Cardinal.

Lou had not taken her gaze from her mother from the moment Oz had led her down the

hallway and into the bedroom, where her mother was lying in bed, her eyes wide open,

tears running from them, her shaky arms finally reaching out to her children, her

trembling lips forming a joyous smile.

Neither could Cotton take his gaze from the woman. Still, he had unfinished business

before the court.

In a cracking, halting voice he said, "Your Honor, I would like to present to you Amanda

Cardinal. The rightful and true guardian of her children."

The sea of now-silent people parted and allowed Cotton to walk slowly over to mother

and her children, his legs stumbling along, as though they had forgotten the proper

motions. His face was smirched with tears.

"Mrs. Cardinal," he began, "my name is—"

Amanda reached out a hand and touched him on the shoulder. Her body was very weak,

yet her head was held high, and when she spoke her words were soft but clear. "I know

who you are, Mr. Longfellow. I've listened to you often."



TODAY

THE TALL WOMAN WALKS ALONG A FIELD OF BLUE-grass slowly curving in the wind.

The line of mountains sweeps across in the background. Her hair is silver and hangs to

her waist. She holds a pen and a paper tablet and sits on the ground and begins to write.

Maybe the wishing well did work. Or perhaps it was the unwavering faith of a little boy.

Or maybe it was as simple as a little girl telling her mother she loved her. The important

thing was our mother came back to us. Even as our beloved Louisa Mae left us. We had

Louisa but a minute, yet we came close to having her not at all.

The woman rises, walks along, and then stops at two granite tombstones with the names

Cotton Longfellow and Amanda Cardinal Longfellow engraved upon them. She sits and

continues writing.

My mother and Cotton were married a year later. Cotton adopted Oz and me, and I

showed equal love and affection to him and my mother. They spent over four wonderful

decades together on this mountain and died within a week of one another. I will never

forget Cotton's great kindness. And I will go to my own grave knowing that my mother

and I made the most of our second chance.

My little brother did grow into those big feet, and developed an even bigger arm. And on

a glorious autumn day, Oz Cardinal pitched and won a World Series for the New York

Yankees. He's now a schoolteacher there, with a well-deserved reputation for helping

timid children thrive. And his grandson has inherited that immortal bear. Some days I

want nothing more than to be holding that little boy again, running my fingers through

his hair, comforting him. My cowardly lion. But children grow up. And my little brother

became a fine man. And his sister is truly proud of him.

Eugene went on to have his own farm and family and still lives nearby. He remains to this

day one of my best friends in the world. And after his performance in that courtroom so

long ago, I never heard anyone ever again refer to him as Hell No.

And me? Like my father, I left the mountain. But unlike Jack Cardinal, I came back I

married and raised a family here in a home I built on the land Louisa Mae left us. Now

my own grandchildren come and visit every summer. I tell them of my life growing up

here. About Louisa Mae, Cotton, and my dear friend Diamond Skinner. And also about

others who touched our lives. I do so because I believe it important for them to know such

things about their family.

Over the years I had read so many books, I started to write one of my own. I loved it so

much, I wrote fourteen more. I told stories of happiness and wonder. Of pain and fear. Of

survival and triumph. Of the land and its people. As my father had. And while I never

won the sorts of awards he did my books tended to sell a little better.

As my father wrote, one's courage, hope, and spirit can be severely tried by the

happenstance of life. But as I learned on this Virginia mountain, so long as one never

loses faith, it is impossible to ever truly be alone.

This is where I belong. It is a true comfort to know that I will die here on this high rock.

And I fear my passing not at all. My enthusiasm is perfectly understandable, you see, for

the view from here is so very fine.