Wish You Well(7)

"All of us?" This question came from Oz.

Lou knew her Utile brother was thinking of their wheelchair-bound mother. She said in a

very firm voice to the two men, "All of us."



CHAPTER FOUR

AS LOU STARED OUT THE WINDOW OF THE TRAIN, IT occurred to her that she had never

really cared that much for New York City. It was true that during her childhood she had

sampled many of its eclectic offerings, filling her days with trips to museums, zoos, and

theaters. She had towered over the world on the observation deck of the Empire State

Building, laughed and cried at the antics of the city dwellers trapped in glee or doom,

observed scenes of emotional intimacy and witnessed passionate displays of public

outcry. She had made some of these treks with her father, who had so often told her that

the choice to be a writer was not the mere selection of an occupation, but rather the

choice of an all-consuming lifestyle. And the business of a writer, he carefully pointed

out, was the business of life, in both its uplifting glory and its complex frailty. And Lou

had been privy to the results of such observations, as she had been enthralled by the

readings and musings of some of the most skillful writers of the day, many in the privacy

of the Cardinals' modest two-bedroom walkup in Brooklyn.

And their mother had taken her and Oz to all the boroughs of the city, gradually

immersing them in various economic and social levels of urban civilization, for Amanda

Cardinal was a very well-educated woman intensely curious about such things. The

children had received a well-rounded education that had made Lou both respect and

remain ever curious about her fellow human beings.

Still, with all that, she had never really become that excited about the city. Where she was

going now, that she was very eager about. Despite living in New York City for most of

his adult life, where he was surrounded by a large supply of story material that other

writers had culled with critical and financial success over the years, Jack Cardinal had

chosen to base all his novels upon the place the train was carrying his family to: the

mountains of Virginia that rose high in the toe of the state's topographical boot. Since her

beloved father had deemed the place worthy of his life's work, Lou had little difficulty in

deciding to go there now.

She moved aside so that Oz could look out the window too. If ever hope and fear could

be compressed into one emotion and displayed on a single face, they were now on the

little boy's. With any given breath, Oz Cardinal looked like he might either laugh till his

ribs pushed through his chest, or else faint dead away from utter terror. Lately, though,

there had only been tears.

"It looks smaller from here," he commented, inclining his head at the fast-receding city of

artificial lights and concrete blocks stacked around welded threads of steel.

Lou nodded in agreement. "But wait until you see the Virginia mountains—now, they're

big. And they stay like that, however you look at them."

"How do you know? You've never seen those mountains."

"Of course I have. In books."

"Do they look all that big on paper?"

If Lou hadn't known better, she would have thought Oz was being smart, but she knew

her brother did not possess even a mildly wicked bone in his whole being.

'Trust me, Oz, they're big. And I've read about them in Dad's books too."

"You haven't read all of Dad's books. He said you weren't old enough."

"Well, I've read one of them. And he read parts of all the others to me."

"Did you talk to that woman?"

"Who? Louisa Mae? No, but the people who wrote to her said she really wanted us to

come."

Oz pondered this. "That's a good thing, I guess."

"Yes, it is."

"Does she look like Dad?"

This stumped his sister. "I can't say I've ever seen a picture of her."

It was clear this answer troubled Oz. "Do you think she's maybe mean and scary-looking?

If she is, can't we come back home?"

"Virginia is our home now, Oz." Lou smiled at him. "She won't be scary-looking. And

she won't be mean. If she were, she never would have agreed to take us."

"But witches do that sometimes, Lou. Remember Hansel and Gretel? They trick you.

Because they want to eat you. They all do that. I know; I read books too."

"So long as I'm there, no witch is going to be bothering you." She gripped his arm,

showing off her strength, and he finally relaxed and looked over at the other occupants of

their sleeper compartment.

This trip had been financed entirely by the friends of Jack and Amanda Cardinal, and

collectively they had spared no expense in sending the children off in comfort to their