"Judge," broke in Goode, "now, it's the children that's going to have the guardian, and
thus I think it reasonable to hear from one of them. And for a little fellow he has a mighty
fine voice, since everybody in this courtroom has heard it loud and long already."
There was muted laughter from the crowd, and Atkins absently smacked his gavel while
he pondered this request for six rapid beats of Cotton's heart. "I'm going to allow it. But
remember, Goode, he's just a little boy."
"Absolutely, Your Honor."
Lou held Oz's hand and they slowly walked down the stairs and passed each of the rows,
all eyes in the courtroom upon them. Oz put his hand on the Bible and was sworn in as
Lou went back to her seat. Oz perched in the chair, looking so small and helpless that
Cotton's heart went out to him, even as Goode moved in.
"Now, Mr. Oscar Cardinal," he began.
"My name's Oz, my sister's name is Lou. Don't call her Louisa Mae or else she'll get mad
and punch you."
Goode smiled. "Now, don't you worry about that. Oz and Lou it is." He leaned against the
witness stand. "Now, you know the court's right sorry to hear that your momma's doing
so poorly."
"She's going to get better."
"Is that right? That what the doctors say?"
Oz looked up at Lou until Goode touched Oz's cheek and pointed his face toward him.
"Now, son, up here on the witness stand you got to speak the truth. You can't look to your
big sister for answers. You swore to God to tell the truth."
"I always tell the truth. Cross my heart, stick a needle."
"Good boy. So, again, did the doctors say your mother will get better?"
"No. They said they weren't sure."
"So how do you know she will?"
"Because... because I made a wish. At the wishing well."
"Wishing well?" said Goode with an expression for the jury that clearly spelled out what
he thought of that answer. "There's a wishing well round here? I wish we had one of them
back in Richmond."
The crowd laughed and Oz's face turned pink and he squirmed in his seat. "There is a
wishing well," he said. "My friend Diamond Skinner told us about it. You make a wish
and give up the most important thing you have and your wish will come true."
"Sounds mighty fine. Now, you said you made your wish?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you gave up the most important thing you had. What was that?" Oz looked
nervously around the room. "The truth, Oz. Remember what you promised to God, son."
Oz took a long breath. "My bear. I gave up my bear."
There were a few muffled chuckles from the onlookers, until all saw the single tear slide
down the little boy's face, and men the snickers ceased.
"Has your wish come true yet?" asked Goode.
Oz shook his head. "No."
"Been a while since you wished?"
"Yes," Oz answered softly.
"And your momma's still real sick, isn't she?"
Oz bowed his head. "Yes," he said in a tiny voice.
Goode put his hands in his pockets. "Well, sad fact is, son, things don't come true just
'cause we wish 'em to. That's not real life. Now, you know your great-grandmother's real
sick, don't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"You make a wish for her too?"
Cotton rose. "Goode, leave it be."
"Fine, fine. Now, Oz, you know you can't live by yourself, right? If your great-grandma
doesn't get better, under the law, you have to go live with an adult in their home. Or else
go to an orphanage. Now, you don't want to go to no old orphanage, do you?"
Cotton jumped to his feet again. "Orphanage? When did that become an issue?"
Goode said, "Well, if Miss Cardinal does not make another miraculous recovery as she
did with rattlers and pneumonia, then the children are going to have to go somewhere.
Now, unless they've got some money I don't know about, they're going to an orphanage,
because that's where children go who don't have blood relatives to take care of them, or
other persons of a worthy nature willing to adopt them."
"They can come live with me," said Cotton.
Goode looked about ready to laugh. "You? An unmarried man? A lawyer in a town that's
dying? You'd be me last person on earth a court would award those children to." Goode
turned back to Oz. "Now, wouldn't you like to go live in your own home with someone
who has your best interests at heart? You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"I don't know."
"Course you would. Orphanages are not the nicest places in the world. Some kids stay
there forever."
"Your Honor," said Cotton, "does all this have a point other than to terrify the witness?"