Wish You Well(30)

on both choke a bear." Oz and Lou laughed, and then Louisa continued, "Next time, boy

and mule reached an unnerstanding. Boy had paid his dues, and mule had had his fun,

and them two made the best plow team I ever saw."

From across the valley there came the sound of a siren. It was so loud that Lou and Oz

had to cover their ears. The mule snorted and jerked against its harness. Louisa frowned.

"What is that?" Lou shouted.

"Coal mine horn," said Louisa.

"Was there a cave-in?"

"No, hush now," Louisa said, her eyes scanning the slopes. Five anxious minutes passed

by and the siren finally stopped. And then from all sides they heard the low rumbling

sound. It rose around them like an avalanche coming. Lou thought she could see the trees,

even the mountain, shaking. She gripped Oz's hand and was thinking of fleeing, but she

didn't because Louisa hadn't budged. And then the quiet returned.

Louisa turned back to them. "Coal folks sound the horn afore they blast. They use

dynamite. Sometimes too much and they's hill slides. And people get hurt. Not miners.

Farmers working the land." Louisa scowled once more in the direction where the blast

seemed to have come from, and then they went back to farming.

At supper, they had steaming plates of pinto beans mixed with cornbread, grease, and

milk, and washed down with springwater so cold it hurt. The night was chilly, the wind

howling fiercely as it attacked the structure, but the walls and roof withstood this charge.

The coal fire was warm, and the lantern light gentle on the eye. Oz was so tired he almost

fell asleep in his Crystal Winters Oatmeal plate the color of the sky.

After supper Eugene went out to the barn, while Oz lay in front of the fire, his little body

so obviously sore and spent. Louisa watched as Lou went over to him, put his head in her

lap, and stroked his hair. Louisa slid a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles over her eyes and

worked on mending a shirt by the firelight. After a while, she stopped and sat down

beside the children.

"He's just tired," Lou said. "He's not used to this."

"Can't say a body ever gets used to hard work." Louisa rubbed at Oz's hair too. It seemed

the little boy just had a head people liked to touch. Maybe for luck.

"You doing a good job. Real good. Better'n me when I your age. And I ain't come from

no big city. Make it harder, don't it?"

The door opened and the wind rushed in. Eugene looked worried. "Calf coming."

In the barn the cow called Purty lay on her side in a wide birthing stall, pitching and

rolling in agony. Eugene knelt and held her down, while Louisa got in behind her and

pried with her fingers, looking for the slicked package of a fresh calf emerging. It was a

hard-fought battle, the calf seeming not to want to enter the world just yet. But Eugene

and Louisa coaxed it out, a slippery mass of limbs, eyes scrunched tight. The event was

bloody, and Lou's and Oz's stomach took another jolt when Purty ate the afterbirth, but

Louisa told them that was natural. Purty started licking her baby and didn't stop until its

hair was sticking out all over. With Eugene's help, the calf rose on tottering stick legs,

while Louisa got Purty ready for the next step, which the calf took to as the most natural

endeavor of all: suckling. Eugene stayed with the mother and her calf while Louisa and

the children went back inside.

Lou and Oz were both excited and exhausted, the grandmother clock showing it was

nearing midnight.

"I've never seen a cow born before," said Oz.

"You've never seen anything born before," said his sister.

Oz thought about this. "Yes, I did. I was there when / was born."

"That doesn't count," Lou shot back.

"Well, it should," countered Oz. "It was a lot of work. Mom told me so."

Louisa put another rock of coal on the fire, drove it into the flames with an iron poker,

and then sat back down with her mending. The woman's dark-veined and knotted hands

moved slowly yet with precision.

"You get on to bed, both of you," she said.

Oz said, "I'm going to see Mom first. Tell her about the cow." He looked at Lou. "My

second time." He walked off.

His sister made no move to leave the fire's warmth.

"Lou, g'on see your mother too," said Louisa.

Lou stared into the depths of the coal fire. "Oz is too young to understand, but I do."

Louisa put down her mending. "Unnerstand what?"

"The doctors in New York said that each day there was less chance Mom would come

back. It's been too long now."

"But you can't give up hope, honey."

Lou turned to look at her. "You don't understand either, Louisa. Our dad's gone. I saw