Redemption Mountain

by FitzGerald, Gerry

  “Burden, help me.” Buck sounded as if he was crying. “I don’t want to lose my wife. I don’t want to lose my kids.”

  Charlie turned around. “Buck, don’t you get it?” he nearly shouted. “Natty can’t remember anything. She can’t remember that she finally got up the courage to leave you. So you got a second chance you don’t deserve.”

  “But I been tryin’, Burden, since before the accident. Since I started workin’. I been tryin’,” Buck pleaded.

  Charlie sighed. “I know you have, Buck,” he said.

  “I ain’t some wife-beatin’ drunk. I’m just … Things never turned out like I thought they would. I never wanted to get married and have the kid … and then, ah, fuck, everything kept getting’ worse all the time.…”

  “Buck, it’s time to be a man,” said Charlie. “You want your family? Then be a father. You want your wife?” Charlie hesitated. “Then be a husband.”

  “What do I need to do, Burden? What should I do?”

  Charlie took a few steps closer to Buck. “Tomorrow morning, you take Pie and Cat up to the hospital, and you walk into Natty’s room holding their hands, and you make sure Natty sees you holding their hands. Then you tell Natty you love her and that you’ve always loved her, since that day you came back from Morgantown. You put that big Red Bone High football ring on her finger ’til you find something better, and you tell her that marrying her was the best day of your life. And that someday you’ll buy her a little house with a white picket fence on a nice little street.”

  Charlie reached up and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “Then you’ll be okay for a while, and you’ll get your chance to keep your family. Afterward, it’ll be up to you what happens next.”

  Buck was silent for several seconds, to make sure Charlie was finished speaking. Then he cleared his throat. “Okay, Burden. I’ll do that. Tomorrow, first thing. I’ll take the kids up there.”

  Charlie replied wearily, “Do it just like I said.”

  “Yeah, I will.” Buck reached down and picked up the bow gun. “Sorry if I scared you. Had the safety on all the time.”

  Charlie turned to leave, but after a few steps he stopped. “Hey, Buck?”

  “Yeah?”

  “The tree cutting’s about done out there.”

  “Yeah, I already got laid off.”

  “I got a job for you at the power plant. Permanent job, if you want it.”

  “’Course I do,” said Buck, coming closer. “That’s all I need.”

  “One thing, though: You can’t drink anymore. I don’t mean getting drunk. I mean you gotta give it all up—booze, beer, everything. Completely on the wagon.”

  “I can do that,” said Buck firmly. “I ain’t an alcoholic. I just drink ’cause…’cause there’s nothin’ else.”

  “Well, now you got something else, right, Buck?”

  “Yeah, Burden,” he said quietly. “I got somethin’ else now.”

  “Okay,” said Charlie. “Come and see me next week at the plant.” He turned and started to walk along the trail again.

  “I will, next week,” said Buck. “Hey, Burden, thanks,” he called into the darkness, but Charlie was gone.

  CHAPTER 36

  Charlie wedged his laptop case into the overstuffed trunk of the Lexus and tossed his overcoat on top. He unzipped a pocket and withdrew a large brown envelope and a burlap sack before closing the trunk. Hank stood waiting for him at the corner. Charlie caught up with him, and the two men walked down the hill toward the new library. Hank looked up at the gray sky. “Supposed to get some snow later on. Hope it don’t mess up your trip,” he said.

  “Should be okay,” said Charlie. “Not supposed to come ’til tonight. Should be in New York by then.” The library door was unlocked. The smell of fresh paint greeted them, along with the sound of someone moving a ladder on the second floor. Just inside were a half dozen computer boxes from Dell. “You’ll have to find some high school kid to set these up,” said Charlie. “It’s beyond my capabilities.”

  “Mine, too.” Hank laughed.

  They sat at a long central table in the main room, surrounded by stacks of boxes from the Westchester Library Association. Charlie emptied the contents of the brown envelope on the table. There were three sets of shiny silver keys, which he passed over to Hank. Charlie thumbed briefly through two sets of legal documents. “This is to establish the Red Bone Children’s Library Trust, with you as the trustee. Need to sign it in a few places and send it back to the lawyers. Keep a copy for yourself.”

  Hank grunted with a brief nod as he looked over the papers.

  Charlie opened another envelope and took out a check. It was from OntAmex Energy, made out to the trust. He pushed it over to Hank. “This’ll keep you going for a while,” said Charlie.

  Hank viewed it through the lower portion of his bifocals. “Lot of money,” Hank grumbled.

  “Invest it in something safe; should last a few years.”

  Hank nodded again, continuing to stare at the check.

  “One thing you’ll have to do,” said Charlie, “is hire a part-time librarian—fifteen, twenty hours a week. Someone who really cares about the kids.”

  Hank cleared his throat. “Got someone in mind. Soon as she’s ready.”

  Charlie reached into the burlap sack and pulled out the remains of the Charleston tournament trophy. “See what you can do with this,” he said, absently rubbing the small brass plate with his thumb. “The kids should be able to take pride in it.” Hank took the heavy wooden disc without comment. Charlie picked up another envelope that Buck had given him. He handed the envelope to Hank without opening it. “Nice picture of the team from the soccer tournament.” He didn’t need to see it again, the image of a happy Natty Oakes, her arms around Emma and Brenda, laughing and proud, like the rest of the team around them.

  They walked around the interior of the library, and Charlie pointed out the sprinkler and lighting controls in the basement. Charlie took a final look around the upper floor. He stood at the windows, looking down at the new soccer field, the gazebo, and the baseball fields beyond. With the beautiful green turf and landscaping, the project had turned out even better than Charlie had envisioned.

  Hank wanted to spend some time in the library, so they said their goodbyes in the parking lot. Charlie said, “Left a check for you in the cribbage box.”

  Hank shook his head. “No need for that.”

  “Did better than I thought,” said Charlie. “Better than Alva Paine.”

  “Had twenty-one years to work on him,” said Hank, as he tried to smile. He turned to Charlie with his hand extended. “Better get going, Burden. You got a long drive ahead.”

  “Thanks, Hank. Thanks for everything.”

  “Burden,” Hank looked up into Charlie’s eyes, “you made a difference here. You made this a better place than it was when you came, and ain’t many men can say that.”

  “I had a good teacher.” Charlie gazed down over the soccer field and squinted with the pain of his thoughts. “Keep thinking, Hank, that maybe if I hadn’t come here—”

  “Can’t blame yourself for any o’ what happened,” Hank said firmly. “Act of God, if ever was one. You did a lot of good things for a lot of people here.”

  Charlie looked back at Hank. “I just wish it didn’t hurt so much.” He stepped forward and the two men hugged. “Time to go,” said Charlie, slapping Hank’s back lightly. He trudged up the hill to Main Street for the last time. When he drove past the library, Hank was nowhere to be seen. On the seat next to him was Pie’s Yankees cap. One more stop to make.

  * * *

  NO ONE ANSWERED his rap on the metal door, and the inside of the trailer was dark. Charlie turned and looked up the hill. White smoke wafted from the chimney of the house, and two dogs observed him from under the porch. He thought about just hanging the Yankees cap on the door handle, but he wanted to see Pie before he left. Charlie hadn’t seen him since he told him he was going to China. It wa
s hard to tell if Pie was upset over the news. He’d become more reserved since the accident and, it seemed to Charlie, a little older, a little more mature. The accident had changed a lot of people.

  A door slammed at the house across the road. Charlie glanced up to see two young children clambering onto pint-size plastic vehicles. Then Natty’s sister-in-law Sally appeared in the front yard. She lit a cigarette and pulled a bulky sweater around her shoulders. At the sound of Charlie’s steps, Sally squinted over at him.

  Charlie stopped about twenty feet away, as one of the old coonhounds loped up and rubbed against him. He reached down and scratched the dog behind the ears. “What’s his name?” he asked.

  Sally stared at him blankly, then down at the dog, as if it were the first time she’d ever seen it. She took a long drag on her cigarette. “Hell, we got a hard enough time namin’ the kids around here.” With no makeup and her hair pulled back, Sally seemed older. She was beginning to develop the hard scowl and defeated look of the older women of McDowell County.

  “I was looking for Pie,” Charlie said, holding out the Yankees cap. “Wanted to give him his hat back and say goodbye.”

  Sally took the cigarette from her lips to speak. “Heard you were leavin’,” she said.

  “Job’s done here. I’m on my way out.”

  “Pie ain’t here. He’s gone huntin’ with his father. Buck and him are like best buddies now.”

  Charlie smiled. “That’s good,” he said.

  “They’ll be goin’ up to see Nat tomorrow. They go up a lot,” said Sally, watching Charlie closely.

  “How’s she doing?” he asked, though he’d spoken to Natty’s doctor the previous day.

  “Comin’ home ’nother week or so. Still can’t remember nothin’ ’bout the accident or the soccer team. Don’t remember Emma.” Sally threw the cigarette butt down and ground it into the dirt with her shoe. “Ain’t the way it was all supposed to…” She shook her head and frowned.

  Large, lazy snowflakes began to fall. Charlie held his face up to the gray sky, inhaling the cold winter air of the mountains. “Looks like I better get going,” he said. He held the Yankees hat out to Sally. “Would you give this to Pie and tell him … just tell him … thanks for being my best friend in West Virginia.”

  Sally took the cap without looking at it. “Sure, I’ll tell him that.”

  Charlie backed the Lexus out onto the gravel road and pointed it down the hill. Sally stood next to the car. He lowered the window and looked up at her quizzically.

  “Just wanted to tell you that Nat and Buck, they’re doin’ real good, like a couple of newlyweds.” Charlie stared at her without comment. “So,” she continued, “maybe some good come out of it all.”

  Charlie nodded. He raised the window and drove slowly down the hill. He wasn’t sure what Sally meant by it all, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore. He was leaving, and all these people in Red Bone would get along like they always had, and pretty soon they’d forget he was ever there. Just another outsider who’d come for the coal. The way it’s always been, for the last hundred years.

  EPILOGUE

  Spring arrived earlier in Red Bone, West Virginia, than it did in central China, or even Mamaroneck. The grass of the soccer field was soft and thick underfoot and, with a few more weeks of sunlight, would explode with growth. Ellen’s heels sank into the soft turf, causing her to lean on Charlie’s arm to keep her balance. Up ahead, a publicist from Charleston, carrying large plastic scissors, and a photographer hefting several bags of equipment walked quickly to keep up with the OntAmex representative, who’d flown in for the event.

  Charlie knew that the OntAmex man had drawn the short straw to fly down for the library dedication and couldn’t wait to get it over with. The black helicopter hissed on the baseball field behind them, ready for a speedy departure. Charlie spied Eve Brewster, Mabel Willard, and several others from the Red Bone Baptist Church Social Club at the top of the stairway up to the library. Ada, Gus, and Janice Lowe would be there, too. Charlie took a deep breath. Four months in China hadn’t been long enough.

  The photographer and the publicist assembled everyone for the ribbon cutting. Zack and Sammy Willard, looking uncomfortable in suit jackets that were growing smaller by the minute, held each end of the wide red ribbon. Behind them, a plaque on the library wall displayed a reasonably good likeness of Emma holding a soccer ball, next to the inscription EMMA C. LOWE MEMORIAL LIBRARY.

  Charlie, Ellen, and Hank stood at the back of the small crowd. Hank frowned and emitted a low growl, unhappy with the people chosen for the picture. Charlie didn’t care. The OntAmex man delivered a sixty-second speech, and everyone made their way inside for sparkling cider and doughnuts. Hank took Ellen on a tour of the new library, stocked with the books she’d arranged to have donated by the Westchester Library Association. The new superintendent of the power plant walked over to Charlie.

  “How’s the new big mule?” Charlie asked. The engineer laughed. They talked for several minutes about the progress of the construction and the typical union problems that never seemed to go away. A brief pause allowed Charlie to change the subject. “So how’s Buck Oakes doing? Job going okay for him?”

  The superintendent was surprised that Charlie would know one of the security guards. “Oakes is doing okay, I guess. Haven’t heard any complaints. Had a little beef with one of the other guards, but no big deal.” He looked over Charlie’s shoulder and smiled. “Speak of the devil,” he said.

  Charlie turned to see Buck’s white pickup pull into the parking lot. Pie clambered out of the truck and trotted over to Charlie, followed by his father. Pie definitely seemed older, but the infectious look that Charlie would always remember him by remained. They gave each other a long high-five, then Charlie pulled him closer. “How’s my best friend in West Virginia?”

  “Charlie,” Pie said excitedly, escaping the headlock, “Papa and me, we go hunting in the winter, and I shot a deer with my own rifle.” Pie beamed.

  “Wow, that’s great, Pie Man,” Charlie said, “getting a deer, that’s really something.”

  Pie’s smile disappeared. He put his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet nervously. He glanced up as his father came over.

  Charlie looked at Buck, then back at Pie. “What’s up, Pie Man? What’s the matter?”

  Pie looked down at his feet. “Charlie, I am not Pie Man anymore. When I go to Univerthity of Michigan to be a engineer, like Charlie, they will laugh at me if I am called Pie Man.” He shrugged. “Pie Man ith a baby name, and I am not a baby anymore. My name ith Boyd. Boyd Oakth.”

  Charlie looked at Buck for confirmation. “His idea,” said Buck. “Kid’s finally growin’ up, I guess.” Pie Man’s happy face was back.

  Charlie offered his hand. “I’m glad to meet you, Boyd Oakes. That’s a fine name for an engineer.” Charlie turned to Buck. He looked as if he’d put on a little weight since Charlie had last seen him. “How you doing, Buck?”

  “Okay, Burden,” Buck replied. “Good to see you again.”

  “Job going okay?” asked Charlie.

  Buck turned toward the library. “It’s all right,” he said. “Good to be workin’.” Charlie studied Buck’s face for a second. He could still feel the anger lurking just below the surface. He started to ask Buck if Natty was coming to the open house, but Buck beat him to it. “Nat was going to come,” said Buck, “but her leg’s been hurtin’ her some, and it ain’t easy for her to walk. But she likes workin’ up here at the library,” he added. “Can’t do her nursin’ no more, so this is a good job for her.”

  Charlie smiled. “That’s good.” Then there was nothing left to say. “Well,” he said, rubbing the top of Pie’s head. The boy’s hair had grown back in the months since the soccer tournament. “Better get some doughnuts and cider before the Willard boys eat everything.”

  They went into the library and joined the throng. Charlie lingered in the entryway, chatting with a few of the w
omen from the Red Bone Baptist Church Social Club, until everyone left him to find the doughnuts. Alone, Charlie moved over to the trophy case hanging on the wall inside the front door.

  On a tall pedestal sat the remains of the Charleston tournament trophy. It had been refinished in a deep brown. The inscription on the front gleamed. Against the back of the case was a huge photo of the Bones at the Charleston tournament, listing the players’ names at the bottom. Charlie stepped closer for a better look, staring intently at the face of each boy in the front before he allowed himself to look at her, in the middle of the picture, with an arm around Emma’s shoulders. Natty was laughing, with the smile that made his heart skip. He sighed deeply as he noticed Ellen and Hank walking toward him.

  “Trophy looks great, Hank,” said Charlie.

  “Came out okay,” Hank said, glancing at it briefly before heading for the door. The OntAmex man and the PR woman were herding people outside.

  Ellen came over to Charlie. “Time to go,” she said. Charlie smiled at his wife and nodded. Eve Brewster grabbed Charlie for the walk down to the field, while Ellen went ahead with Hank. They fell in behind Ada and Gus and Janice Lowe, going down the long cement stairway. Up ahead, the women of the Red Bone Baptist Church Social Club were moving slowly down the stairs, holding up the procession. The OntAmex man and the PR woman were halfway across the soccer field.

  Charlie smiled. They’ll just have to wait. He would enjoy his last few minutes chatting with Eve. They walked arm-in-arm across the mushy sod of the soccer field, while she brought him up to date on life in Red Bone. Mr. Jacks had moved in with Natty and Buck after Natty visited him in Beckley. She took one look at the conditions, loaded him into her car, and brought him back to Red Bone, where they made a space for him in their trailer. Charlie laughed. He could picture Natty doing that. And the best thing about it, Eve added, was that Buck was okay with it.