Wish You Well (37 page)

“No. And if I did, I still wouldn’t sell to you. Now, is there anything else I
can’t
do for you?”

“No, you’ve told me all I need to know.” Miller handed a packet of papers to Cotton. “Consider your client served.”

Miller walked out with a smile. Cotton quickly read through the papers, while Lou stood nervously beside him.

“What is it, Cotton?”

“Not good, Lou.”

Cotton suddenly grabbed Lou’s arm, and they raced down the stairs and over to the hospital. Cotton pushed open the door to Louisa’s room. The flashbulb went off right as they came in. The man looked over at them and then he took another picture of Louisa in her bed. There was another man next to him, large and powerfully built. Both were dressed in nice suits and wore creased hats.

“Get out of here!” cried Cotton.

He raced over and tried to grab the camera from the man, but the big fellow pulled him away, allowing his partner to slide out the door. Then the big man backed out of the room, a smile on his lips.

Cotton could only stand there, breathing hard and looking helplessly between Lou and Louisa.

It was a particularly cold, cloudless day when Cotton entered the courtroom. He stopped when he saw Miller and another man there, who was tall, portly, and very well dressed, his fine silver hair combed neatly on a head so massive it seemed hardly natural.

Cotton said to Miller, “I was pretty sure I’d see you today.”

Miller inclined his head at the other man. “You probably heard of Thurston Goode, Commonwealth’s attorney for Richmond?”

“Indeed I have. You argued a case before the United States Supreme Court recently, didn’t you, sir?”

“More precisely,” Goode said in a deep, confident baritone, “I
won
the case, Mr. Longfellow.”

“Congratulations. You’re a long way from home.”

“The state was kind enough to allow Mr. Goode to come down here and act on its behalf in this very important matter,” explained Miller.

“Since when does a simple suit to declare a person mentally unfit qualify for the expertise of one of the finest lawyers in the state?”

Goode smiled warmly. “As an officer of the Commonwealth I don’t have to explain to you why I’m here, Mr. Longfellow. Suffice it to say, that I
am
here.”

Cotton put a hand to his chin and pretended to ponder something. “Let’s see now. Virginia elects its Commonwealth’s attorneys. Might I inquire as to whether Southern Valley has made a donation to your campaign, sir?”

Goode’s face flushed. “I don’t like what you’re implying!”

“I did not mean it as an implication.”

Fred the bailiff came in and announced, “All rise. The Court of the Honorable Henry J. Atkins is now in session. All those having business before this court draw near and you shall be heard.”

Judge Henry Atkins, a small man with a short beard, thinning silver hair, and clear gray eyes, came into the room from his adjacent chambers and took his seat behind the bench. Before he got up there, he looked too small for his black robe. Once he got there, he looked too large for the courtroom.

It was at this point that Lou and Oz crept in without anyone seeing them. Wearing barter coats and thick socks stuffed into oversized boots, they had retraced their steps across the poplar-log bridge and down the mountain, catching a ride on a truck to Dickens. It had been a much harder trek in cold weather, but the way Cotton had explained it to them, the potential effect of this proceeding on all their lives was very clear. They sat slumped down at the rear, their heads barely visible over the back of the seats in front of them.

“Call the next case,” said Atkins. It was his only case today, but the law court had its rituals.

Fred announced the pending matter of
Commonwealth versus Louisa Mae Cardinal.

Atkins smiled broadly from his judicial perch. “Mr. Goode, I’m honored to have you in my courtroom, sir. Please state the Commonwealth’s position.”

Goode rose and hooked a finger in his lapel.

“This certainly is not a pleasant task, but one that the Commonwealth has a duty to perform. Southern Valley Coal and Gas has made an offer to purchase property solely owned by Miss Cardinal. We believe that because of her recent stroke she is not legally fit to make an informed decision on that offer. Her only relatives are both underage and thus disqualified from acting for her. And we understand that the surviving parent of these children is herself severely mentally incapacitated. We also have it on good authority that Miss Cardinal has signed no power of attorney allowing others to represent her interests.”

On this Cotton cast a sharp glance at Miller, who just looked ahead in his cocksure manner.

Goode continued, “In order to fully protect Miss Cardinal’s rights in this matter, we are seeking to have her declared mentally unfit, and to have a guardian appointed so that an orderly disposition of her affairs may be conducted, including this very lucrative offer from Southern Valley.”

Atkins nodded as Goode sat down. “Thank you, Mr. Goode. Cotton?”

Cotton rose and stood before the bench. “Your Honor, what we have here is an attempt to circumvent rather than facilitate Miss Cardinal’s wishes. She has already rejected an offer from Southern Valley to purchase her land.”

“Is that true, Mr. Goode?” queried the judge.

Goode looked confident. “Miss Cardinal rejected one such offer; however, the present offer is for considerably more money, and thus must be separately entertained.”

“Miss Cardinal made it very clear that she would not sell her land at any price to Southern Valley,” said Cotton. He looped his finger around his coat lapel as Goode had done, then thought better of it and removed it.

“Do you have any witnesses to that effect?” asked Judge Atkins.

“Uh . . . just me.”

Goode immediately pounced. “Well, if Mr. Longfellow intends to make himself a material witness in this case, I insist he recuse himself as counsel for Miss Cardinal.”

Atkins looked at Cotton. “Is that what you want to do?”

“No, it’s not. However, I can represent Louisa’s interests until she’s better.”

Goode smiled. “Your Honor, Mr. Longfellow has expressed a clear prejudice to my client in full view of the court. He can hardly be considered independent enough to
fairly
represent Miss Cardinal’s interests.”

“I’m inclined to agree with him there, Cotton,” said Atkins.

“Well, then we contend that Miss Cardinal is not mentally unfit,” countered Cotton.

“Then we have ourselves a dispute, gentlemen,” said the judge. “I’m setting this for trial in one week.”

Cotton was astonished. “That’s not enough time.”

“One week’s fine with us,” said Goode. “Miss Cardinal’s affairs deserve to be attended to with all due speed and respect.”

Atkins picked up his gavel. “Cotton, I’ve been over to the hospital to see Louisa. Now, whether she has her senses or not, it seems to me those children are going to at least need a guardian. We might as well get it done as quick as possible.”

“We can take care of ourselves.”

They all looked to the back of the courtroom, where Lou was now standing. “We can take care of ourselves,” she said again. “Until Louisa gets better.”

“Lou,” said Cotton, “this is not the time or place.”

Goode smiled at them. “Well, you two sure are adorable
children
. I’m Thurston Goode. How y’all doing?”

Neither Lou nor Oz answered him.

“Young lady,” said Atkins, “come up here.”

Lou swallowed the lump in her throat and walked up to the bench, where Atkins peered down at her, like Zeus to mortal.

“Young lady, are you a member of the State Bar?”

“No. I mean . . . no.”

“Do you know that only members of the Bar may address the court except in the most extraordinary circumstances?”

“Well, since this concerns me and my brother, I think the circumstances
are
extraordinary.”

Atkins looked at Cotton and smiled before looking back at Lou. “You’re smart, that’s easy to see. And quick. But the law is the law, and children your age can’t live by themselves.”

“We have Eugene.”

“He’s not a blood relative.”

“Well, Diamond Skinner didn’t live with anybody.”

Atkins looked over at Cotton. “Cotton, will you explain this to her, please.”

“Lou, the judge is right, you’re not old enough to live by yourself. You need an adult.”

Lou’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Well, we keep running out of those.” She turned and raced down the aisle, pushed open the double doors, and was gone. Oz fled after her.

Cotton looked back up at Judge Atkins.

“One week,” said the judge. He smacked his gavel and returned to his chambers, like a wizard resting after throwing a particularly difficult spell.

Outside the courtroom, Goode and Miller waited for Cotton. Goode leaned in close to him. “You know, Mr. Longfellow, you can make this a lot easier on everybody if you’d just cooperate. We all know what a mental examination is going to reveal. Why put Miss Cardinal through the humiliation of a trial?”

Cotton leaned even closer to Goode. “Mr. Goode, you could give a damn whether Louisa’s affairs are accorded the respect they deserve. You’re here as a hired gun for a big company looking to twist the law so they can take her land.”

Goode just smiled. “We’ll see you in court.”

That night Cotton labored behind his piled-high desk. He mumbled to himself, wrote things down and then scratched them out, and paced like an expectant father. The door creaked open, and Cotton stared as Lou came in with a basket of food and a pot of coffee.

“Eugene drove me down in the car to see Louisa,” she explained. “I got this over at the New York Restaurant. Figured you probably skipped supper.”

Cotton looked down. Lou cleared a place on his desk, laid out the food, and poured the coffee. Finished, she made no move to leave.

“I’m pretty busy, Lou. Thank you for the food.”

Cotton went to his desk and sat down, but he moved not one piece of paper, opened not a single book.

“I’m sorry about what I said in court,” said Lou.

“It’s all right. I guess if I were you, I would’ve done the same thing.”

“You sounded really good.”

“On the contrary, I failed utterly.”

“But the trial hasn’t started yet.”

He took off his glasses and rubbed them with his tie. “Truth is I haven’t really tried a case in years, and even then I wasn’t very good. I just file papers, write up deeds and wills, that sort of thing. And I’ve never gone up against a lawyer like Goode.” He put his glasses back on, seeing clearly for perhaps the first time all day. “And I wouldn’t want to promise you something I can’t deliver.”

This line stood between them like a wall of flames.

“I believe in you, Cotton. Whatever happens, I believe in you. I wanted you to know that.”

“Why in the world do you have faith in me? Haven’t I done nothing except let you down? Quoted miserable poetry that can’t change anything.”

“No, all you’ve tried to do is help.”

“I can never be the man your father was, Lou. In fact, I’m really not good for all that much, it appears.”

Lou stood beside him. “Will you promise me one thing, Cotton? Will you promise you won’t ever leave us?”

After a few moments Cotton cupped the girl’s chin and said in a halting voice that in no way lost its strength, “I will stay for as long as all of you will have me.”