Wish You Well(14)

many fine examples of the countryside imbedded in each of them. Indeed, if he'd ever

had fingernails, it was difficult to tell under this remarkable collection of dirt. Lou and Oz

both couldn't help but stare at those fingers.

He must have noted their looks, because he said, "Been to digging worms since afore

light. Candle in one hand, tin can in the other. Dirty work, y'all know." He said this

matter-of-factly, as though for years they all had knelt side by side under a hot sun

hunting skinny bait.

Oz looked at his own hand and saw there the transfers of rich soil from the handshake. He

smiled because it was as though the two had just undertaken the blood brother ritual. A

brother! Now that was something Oz could get excited about.

The red-haired young man grinned good-naturedly, showing that most of his teeth were

where they were supposed to be, though not many of them were what one could call

either straight or white.

"Name's Jimmy Skinner," he said by way of modest introduction, "but folk call me

Diamond, 'cause my daddy say that how hard my head be. This here hound's Jeb."

At the sound of his name Jeb poked his fluffy head over the seat and Diamond gave each

of the dog's ears a playful tug. Then he looked at Oz.

"That a right funny name fer a body. Oz."

Now Oz looked worried under the scrutiny of his blood brother. Was their partnership not

to be?

Lou answered for him. "His real name is Oscar. As in Oscar Wilde. Oz is a nickname,

like in the Wizard of."

His gaze on the ceiling of the Hudson, Diamond considered these facts, obviously

searching his memory.

"Never tell of no Wildes up here." He paused, thinking hard again, the wrinkles on his

brow crazy-lined. "And wizard'a what 'xactly?"

Lou could not hide her astonishment. "The book? The movie? Judy Garland?"

"The Munchkins? And the Cowardly Lion?" added Oz.

"Ain't never been to no pitcher show." Diamond glanced at Oz's bear and a disapproving

look simmered on his face. "You right big fer that, now ain'tcha, son?"

This sealed it for Oz. He sadly wiped his hand clean on the seat, annulling his and

Diamond's solemn covenant.

Lou leaned forward so close she could smell Diamond's breath. "That's none of your

business, is it?"

A chastened Diamond slumped in the front seat and let Jeb idly lick dirt and worm juice

from his fingers. It was as though Lou had spit at the boy using words.

The ambulance was far ahead of them, driving slowly.

"I sorry your ma hurt," said Diamond, in the manner of passing the peace pipe.

"She's going to get better," said Oz, always nimbler on the draw than was Lou with

matters concerning their mother.

Lou stared out the window, arms across her chest.

"Hell No," said Diamond, "just plop me off over to the bridge. Catch me anythin' good, I

bring it fer supper. Tell Miss Louisa?"

Lou watched as Hell No edged his blunt chin forward, apparently signaling a big, happy

"Okay, Diamond!"

The boy popped up over the seat again. "Hey, y'all fancy good lard-fried fish fer supper?"

His expression was hopeful, his intentions no doubt honorable; however, Lou was

unwilling just now to make friends.

"We all shore would, Diamond. Then maybe we can find us a pitcher show in this onehorse town."

As soon as Lou said this, she regretted it. It wasn't just the disappointed look on

Diamond's face; it was also the fact that she had just blasphemed the place where her

father had grown up. She caught herself looking to heaven, watching for grim lightning

bolts, or maybe sudden rains, like tears falling.

"From some big city, ain'tcha?" Diamond said.

Lou drew her gaze from the sky. "The biggest. New York," she said.

"Huh, well, y'all don't be telling folks round here that."

Oz gaped at his ex-blood brother. "Why not?"

"Right chere's good, Hell No. Come on now, Jeb."

Hell No stopped the car. Directly in front of them was the bridge, although it was the

puniest such one Lou had ever seen. It was a mere twenty feet of warped wooden planks

laid over six-by-six tarred railroad ties, with an arch of rusted metal on either side to

prevent one from plummeting all of five feet into what looked to be a creek full of more

flat rock than water. Suicide by bridge jumping did not appear to be a realistic option

here. And, judging from the shallow water, Lou did not hold out much hope for a lardfried fish dinner, not that such a meal sounded particularly appealing to her anyway.

As Diamond pulled his gear from the back of the Hudson, Lou, who was a little sorry for

what she had said, but more curious than sorry, leaned over the seat and whispered to him