blackened blood, and the coal was tippled into the truck beds.
"Name's Eugene."
Lou and Oz both stared toward the front seat. The young man was looking at them in the
mirror.
"Name's Eugene," he said again. "Diamond, he fergit sometime. But he a good boy. My
Men'."
"Hi, Eugene," said Oz. And then Lou said hello too.
"Ain't see folks much. Words ain't come easy for me. I sorry for that."
"That's okay, Eugene," said Lou. "Meeting strangers is hard."
"Miss Louisa and me, we real glad you come. She a good woman. Take me in when I
ain't got no home. You lucky she your kin."
"Well, that's good because we haven't been very lucky lately," said Lou.
"She talk 'bout y'all much. And your daddy and momma. She care for your momma. Miss
Louisa, she heal the sick."
Oz looked at Lou with renewed hope, but she shook her head.
More miles went by, and then Eugene turned the car down a lane that wasn't much more
than twin ruts in the dirt spread over with still dormant grass and bracketed by thick wild
brush. As they were obviously drawing near to their destination, Oz and Lou exchanged a
glance. Excitement, nervousness, panic, and hope competed for space on the small
landscapes of their faces.
The dirt lane nudged over to the north as it cleared a rise. Here the land splayed out into a
broad valley of simple beauty. Green meadows were bracketed by vast forests of every
wood the state boasted. Next to the meadows were cleared patchwork fields that yielded
to split-rail corrals, weathered gray and wrapped with naked rambler rose vines.
Anchoring the corrals was a large two-story plank barn, topped by a gambrel roof with
rain hood, all covered by cedar shingles fashioned with froe and maul. It had large double
doors at each end, with a set of hay doors above. A projecting timber was immediately
above this portal and used to support the hay fork dangling from it. Three cows lay in the
grass in one protected space, while a roan horse grazed alone in a small snake-rail corral.
Lou counted a half dozen sheared sheep in another pen. And behind that was another
fenced space where enormous hogs rolled in a wallow of mud, like giant babies at play. A
pair of mules were doubletreed to a large wagon that sat by the barn, the sun reflecting
off its tin-wrapped wooden wheels. Near the barn was a farmhouse of modest proportion.
There were other buildings and lean-tos, large and small, scattered here and there, most
of plank. One structure situated in an overhang of maple trees looked to be formed from
logs chinked with mud and seemed half-buried in the earth. The cleared fields, which
sloped at their ends like the curl of hair, sprang outward from the central farm buildings
like spokes on a wheel. And rising high behind all of this were the Appalachians, making
this good-sized farm property seem but a child's model by comparison.
Lou was finally here, the place her father had spent much of his life writing about yet had
never returned to. She drew in several quick breaths, and sat very erect as they drove on
to the house, where Louisa Mae Cardinal, the woman who had helped to raise their
father, awaited them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
INSIDE THE FARMHOUSE THE NURSE WAS ADVISING THE woman as to Amanda's
condition and other essentials, while the woman listened intently and asked pointed
questions.
"And we might as well get my requirements out of the way," said the nurse finally. "I
suffer from animal and pollen allergies, and you need to make sure that their presence
here is kept to a minimum. Under no circumstances should animals be allowed in the
house. I have certain specific dietary needs. I will provide you with a list. I will also
require a free reign in overseeing the children. I know that falls outside my formal duties,
but those two obviously need discipline, and I intend to so provide it. That girl, in
particular, is a real piece of work. I'm sure you can appreciate my frankness. Now you
can show me to my room."
Louisa Mae Cardinal said to the nurse, "I appreciate you coming out. Fact is, we ain't got
room for you."
The tall nurse stood as erect as she could, but she was still shorter than Louisa Mae
Cardinal. "Excuse me?" she said with indignation.
'Tell Sam out there to take you on back to the train station. Another train north be coming
through. Rare place for a walk while you wait."
"I was retained to come here and look after my patient."
"I look after Amanda just fine."
"You are not qualified to do so."
"Sam and Hank, they need get on back, honey."
"I need to call somebody about this." The nurse was so red-faced that she looked as
though she might become a patient.