else down. Lou bought a pretty bonnet for Louisa, which she let Oz carry in a paper bag.
The town was done up in red, white, and blue, and both townfolk and those from the
mountain lined both sides of the street as the floats came down. These barges 0n land
were pulled by horse, mule, or track and displayed the most important moments in
America's history, which, to most native Virginians, had naturally all occurred in the
Commonwealth. There was a group of children on one such float representing the
original thirteen colonies, with one boy carrying the Virginia colors, which were far
bigger than the flags the other children carried, and he wore the showiest costume as
well. A regiment of decorated war veterans from the area trooped by, including several
men with long beards and shriveled bodies who claimed to have served with both the
honorable Bobby Lee and the fanatically pious Stonewall Jackson. One float, sponsored
by Southern Valley, was devoted to the mining of coal and was pulled by a customized
Chevrolet track painted gold. There wasn't a black-faced, wrecked-back miner in sight,
but instead, smack in the center of the float, on a raised platform simulating a coal tipple,
stood a pretty young woman with blond hair, a perfect complexion, and brilliant white
teeth, wearing a sash that read "Miss Bituminous Coal 1940" and waving her hand as
mechanically as a windup doll. Even the most dense in the crowd could probably grasp
the implied connection between lumps of black rock and the pot of gold pulling it. And
the men and boys gave the expected reaction of cheers and some catcalls to the passing
beauty. There was one old and humpbacked woman standing next to Lou who told her
that her husband and three sons all labored in the mines. The old woman watched the
beauty queen with scornful eyes and then commented that that young gal had obviously
never been near a coal mine in her entire life. And she wouldn't know a lump of coal if it
jumped up and grabbed her in the bituminous.
High-ranking representatives of the town made important speeches, motivating the
citizens into bursts of enthusiastic applause. The mayor held forth from a temporary
stage, with smiling, expensively dressed men next to him, who, Cotton told Lou, were
Southern Valley officials. The mayor was young and energetic, with slicked hair, wearing
a nice suit and fashionable watch and chain, and carrying boundless enthusiasm in his
beaming smile and hands reaching to the sky, as though ready to snag on any rainbows
trying to slip by.
"Coal is king," the mayor announced into a clunky microphone almost as big as his head.
"And what with the war heating up across the Atlantic and the mighty United States of
America building ships and guns and tanks for our friends fighting Hitier, the steel mill's
demands for coke, our good, patriotic Virginia coke, will skyrocket. And some say it
won't be long before we join the fighting. Yes, prosperity is here in fine abundance and
here it will stay," said the mayor. "Not only will our children live the glorious American
dream, but their children will as well. And it will be all due to the good work of folks like
Southern Valley and their unrelenting drive to bring out the black rock that is driving this
town to greatness. Rest assured, folks, we will become the New York City of the south.
One day some will look back and say, 'Who knew the outstanding things that destiny held
for the likes of Dickens, Virginia?' But y'all already know, because I'm telling you right
now. Hip-hip hooray for Southern Valley and Dickens, Virginia." And the exuberant
mayor threw his straw boater hat high into the air. And the crowd joined him in the cheer,
and more hats were catapulted into the swirling breeze. And though Diamond, Lou, Oz,
Eugene, and Cotton all applauded too, and the children grinned happily at each other,
Lou noticed that Cotton's expression wasn't one of unbridled optimism.
As night fell, they watched a display of fireworks color the sky, and then the group
climbed in the Hudson and headed out of town. They had just passed the courthouse
when Lou asked Cotton about the mayor's speech and his muted reaction to it.
"Well, I've seen this town go boom and bust before," he said. "And it usually happens
when the politicians and the business types are cheering the loudest. So I just don't know.
Maybe it'll be different this time, but I just don't know."
Lou was left to ponder this while the cheers of the fine celebration receded and then those
sounds were gone entirely, replaced with wind whistling through rock and tree, as they
headed back up the mountain.
There had not been much rain, but Louisa wasn't worried yet, though she prayed every
night for the skies to open up and bellow hard and long. They were weeding the