ALVIN JOURNEYMAN

by Orson Scott Card

  “No,” said Makepeace.

  “No more questions for this witness,” said Verily.

  As Makepeace got up and left the witness box, Verily turned to the judge. “Your Honor, the defense moves for immediate dismissal of all charges, inasmuch as the testimony of this witness is not sufficient to establish probable cause.”

  The judge rolled his eyes. “I hope I’m not going to have to listen to motions like that after every witness.”

  “Just the pathetic ones, Your Honor,” said Verily.

  “Your point is made. Your motion is denied. Mr. Laws, your next witness?”

  “I would like to have called Makepeace’s wife, Gertie, but she passed away more than a year ago. Instead, with the court’s permission, I will call the woman who was doing kitchen help for her the day the golden plow was first... evidenced. Anga Berry.”

  The judge looked at Verily. “This will make her testimony hearsay, after a fashion. Do you have any objection, Mr. Cooper?”

  Alvin had already assured Verily that nothing Anga could say would do him any possible harm. “No objection, Your Honor.”

  Alvin listened as Anga Berry testified. She didn’t really witness to anything except that Gertie told her about Makepeace’s accusations the very next morning, so the charge wasn’t one he dreamed up later. On cross-examination, Verily was kind to her, only asking her whether Gertie Smith had said anything to lead Anga to believe she thought Alvin was as bad a boy as Makepeace said.

  Marty rose to his feet. “Hearsay, Your Honor.”

  Impatiently the judge replied, “Well, Marty, we know it’s hearsay. It was for hearsay that you called her in the first place!”

  Abashed, Marty Laws sat back down.

  “She never said nothing about his smithery or nothing,” said Anga. “But I know Gertie set quite a store by the boy. Always helped her out, toted water for her whenever she asked—that’s the worst job—and he was good with the children and just... always helping. She never said a bad word about him, and I reckon she had a high opinion of his goodness.”

  “Did Gertie ever tell you he was a liar or deceiver?” asked Verily.

  “Oh, no, unless you count hiding some job he was doing till it was done, so as to surprise her. If that’s deception, then he done that a couple of times.”

  And that was it. Alvin was relieved to know that Gertie hadn’t been unkind to him behind his back, that even after her death she was a friend to him. What surprised Alvin was how glum Verily was when he sat down at the table next to him. Marty was busy calling his next witness, a fellow named Hank Dowser whose tale Alvin could easily guess—this was a man who did have malice and it wouldn’t be pleasant to hear him. Still, he hadn’t seen anything either, and in fact the well-digging had nothing to do with the plow so what did it matter? Why did Verily look so unhappy?

  Alvin asked him.

  “Because there was no reason for Laws to call that woman. She worked against his case and he had to know that in advance.”

  “So why did he call her?”

  “Because he wanted to lay the groundwork for something. And since she didn’t say anything new during his examination of her, it must have been during the cross-examination that the new groundwork was laid.”

  “All you asked Anga was wheiher Gertie had the same low opinion of me that her husband had.”

  Verily thought for a moment. “No. I also asked her if you had ever deceived Gertie. Oh, I’m such a fool. If only I could recall those words from my lips!”

  “What’s wrong with that?” asked Alvin

  “He must have some witness that calls you a deceiver, a witness who is otherwise irrelevant to this case.”

  In the meantime, the dowser, in a state of high dudgeon, was speaking of how uppity Makepeace’s prentice was, how he dared to tell a dowser how to dowse. “He’s got no respect for any man’s knack but his own!”

  Verily spoke up. “Your Honor, I object. The witness is not competent to testify concerning my client’s respect or lack of it toward other people’s knacks in general.”

  The objection was sustained. Hank Dowser was a quicker learner than Makepeace; there was no more problem with him. He quickly established that the prentice had obviously dug the well in a different place from the place where Hank had declare water could be found.

  Verily had only one question for him. “Was there water in the place where he dug the well?”

  “That’s not the question!” declared Hank Dowser.

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you, Mr. Dowser, that I am the one authorized by this court to ask questions at this time, and I tell you that it is the question that I would like you to answer. At this time.”

  “What was the question?”

  “Did my client’s well reach water?”

  “It reached a kind of water. But compared to the pure water I found, I’m sure that what he got was a sludgy, scummy, foul-tasting brew.”

  “Do I take it that your answer is yes?”

  “Yes.”

  And that was that.

  For his next witness, Marty called a name that sent a shiver down Alvin’s spine. “Amy Sump.”

  A very attractive girl arose from the back of the courtroom and walked down the aisle.

  “Who is she?” asked Verily.

  “A girl from Vigor with a very active imagination.”

  “About what?”

  “About how she and I did what a man has no business doing with a girl so young.”

  “Did you?”

  Alvin was annoyed by the question. “Never. She just started telling stories and it grew from there.”

  “Grew?”

  “That’s why I took off from Vigor Church, to give her lies a chance to settle down and die out.”

  “So she started telling stories about you and youfled?”

  “What does it have to do with the plow and Makepeace Smith?”

  Verity grimaced. “A certain matter of whether you deceive people or not. Marty Laws roped me in.”

  Marty was explaining to the judge that, because he had had no chance to talk with this witness himself beforehand, his illustrious co-counsel would conduct the examination. “The girl is young and fragile, and they have established a rapport.”

  Verily thought that the idea of Webster and Amy having rapport wasn’t very promising when it came to getting honest testimony from her, but he had to tread carefully. She was a child, and a girl child at that. He couldn’t seem to be hostile or fearful of her before she spoke, and in cross-examination he’d have to proceed delicately lest he seem to be a bully. Unlike Makepeace Smith and Hank, Dowser, who were obviously angry and malicious, Amy Sump was absolutely believable. She spoke shyly and reluctantly. “I don’t want to get Alvin in no trouble, sir,” she said.

  “And why not?” asked Daniel Webster.

  Her answer came in a whisper. “Because I still love him.”

  “You... you still love him?” Oh, Webster was a fine actor, worthy of the boards in Drury Lane. “But how can you—why do you still love him?”

  “Because I am with child,” she whispered.

  A buzzing arose through the courtroom.

  Again, Webster feigned grieved surprise. “You are with... Are you married, Miss Sump?”

  She shook her head. Glistening tears flew from her eyes onto her lap.

  “Yet you are with child. The child of some man who didn’t even have the decency to make an honest woman of you. Whose child, Miss Sump?”

  This was already out of control. Verily leapt to his feet. “Your Honor, I object on the grounds that this can have no conceivable connection with—“

  “It goes to the issue of deception, Your Honor!” cried Daniel Webster. “It goes to the issue of a man who will say whatever it takes to get his way, and then absconds without so much as a farewell, having taken away that which is most precious from the very one who trusted him!”

  The judge smacked down his gavel. “Mr. Webster, that was such a fine
summing up that I’m inclined to charge the jury and end the trial. Unfortunately this is not the end of the trial and I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from jumping up on a stump and making a speech when it ain’t speechifying time.”

  “I was responding to my worthy opponent’s objection.”

  “Well, you see, Daniel, that’s where you made your mistake. Because his objection was addressed to me, me being the judge here, and I didn’t really need your help at that moment. But I’m grateful to know that your help is right there, ready for me, if ever I do need it.”

  Webster answered the sarcasm with a cheerful smile. What did he care? His point was already made.

  “The objection is overruled, Mr. Cooper,” said the judge. “Who is the father of your child, Miss Sump?”

  She burst into tears—still on cue, despite the interruption. “Alvin,” she said, sobbing. Then she looked up and gazed soulfully across the court into Alvin’s eyes. “Oh, Al, it ain’t too late! Come back and make a wife of me! I love you so!”

  Chapter 15 -- Love

  Verily Cooper, doing his best to hide his astonishment, turned languidly to, look at Alvin. Then he raised an eyebrow.

  Alvin looked vaguely sad. “It’s true she’s pregnant,” he whispered. “But it ain’t true I’m the father.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me if you knew?” Verily whispered.

  “I didn’t know till she said it. Then I looked and yes, there’s a baby growing in her womb. About the size of a nib. No more than three weeks along.”

  Verily nodded. Alvin had been in jail for the past month, and traveling far from Vigor Church for several months before that. The question was whether he could get the girl to admit under cross-examination that she was barely a month along in her pregnancy.

  In the meantime, Daniel Webster had gone on, eliciting from Amy a lurid account of Alvin’s seduction of her. No doubt about it, the girl told a convincing story, complete with all kinds of details that made it sound true. It seemed to Verily that the girl wasn’t lying, or if she was, she believed her own lies. For a few moments he had doubts about Alvin. Could he have done this? The girl was pretty and desirable, and from the way she talked, she was certainly willing. Just because Alvin was a Maker didn’t mean he wasn’t a man all the same.

  He quickly shook off such thoughts. Alvin Smith was a man with self-control, that was the truth. And he had honor. If he really did such things with this child, he’d certainly marry her and not leave her to face the consequences alone.

  It was a measure of how dangerous the girl’s testimony was, if she could get Alvin’s own attorney to doubt him.

  “And then he left you,” said Daniel Webster.

  Verily thought of objecting, but figured there was no point.

  “It was my own fault, I know,” said Amy, breaking down again into pathetic tears. “I shouldn’t have told my best friend Ramona about Alvin and me, because she mouthed it around to everybody and they didn’t understand about our true love and so of course my Alvin had to leave because he has great works to do in the world, he can’t be tied down to Vigor Church just now. I didn’t want to come here and testify! I want him to be free to do whatever he needs to do! And if my baby grows up without a pa, at least I can tell my child that she comes of noble blood, with Makery as her heritage!”

  Oh, that was a nice touch, making her the suffering saint who is content that “her” Alvin is a lying seducing deceiving abandoning bastard-making cradle-robber, because she loves him so.

  It was time for cross-examination. This had to proceed delicately indeed. Verily couldn’t give a single hint that he believed her; at the same time, he didn’t dare to be seen to attack her, because the jury’s sympathy was all with the girl right now. The seeds of doubt had to be planted gently.

  “I’m sorry you had to come all the way down here. It must be a hard journey for a young lady in your delicate condition.”

  “Oh, I’m doing all right. I just puke once in the morning and then I’m fine for the rest of the day.”

  The jury laughed. A friendly, sympathetic, believing laugh. Heaven help me, thought Verily.

  “How long have you known you were going to have a baby?”

  “A long time,” she said.

  Verily raised an eyebrow. “Now, that’s a pretty vague answer. But before you hear my next question, I just want you to remember that we can bring your mother and father down here if need be, to establish the exact time this pregnancy began.”

  “Well I didn’t tell them till just a few days ago,” said Amy. “But I’ve been pregnant for—“

  Verily raised his hand to silence her, and shook his head. “Be careful, Miss Sump. If you think for just a minute, you’ll realize that your mother certainly knows and your father probably knows that you couldn’t possibly have been pregnant for more than a few weeks.”

  Amy looked at him in a puzzled way for a long moment. Then dawning realization came across her face. She finally realized:, Her mother would know, from washing rags, when she last menstruated. And it wasn’t months and months ago.

  “Like I was going to say all along, I got pregnant in the last month. Sometime in the last month.”

  “And you’re sure that Alvin is the father?”

  She nodded. But she was no fool. Verily knew she was doing the math in her head. She obviously had counted on being able to lie and say she’d been pregnant for months, since before Alvin left Vigor; when the baby was born she could say it had taken so long because it was a Maker’s child, or some such nonsense. But now she had to have a better lie.

  Or else she’d been planning this lie all along. That, too, was possible.

  “Of course he is,” she said. “He comes to me in the night even now. He’s really excited about the baby.”

  “What do you, mean by ‘even now’?” asked Verily. “You know that he’s in jail.”

  “Oh, posh,” said Amy. “What’s a jail to a man like him?”

  Once again, Verily realized that he’d been playing into Webster’s hands. Everybody knew Alvin had hidden powers. They knew he worked in stone and iron. They knew he could get out of that jail whenever he wanted.

  “Your Honor,” said Verily, “I reserve the right to recall this witness for further cross-examination.”

  “I object,” said Daniel Webster. “If he recalls Miss Sump then she’s his witness, it won’t be cross-examination, and she’s not a hostile witness.”

  “I need to lay the groundwork for further questioning,” said Verily.

  “Lay all you want,” said the judge. “You’ll have some leeway, but it won’t be cross. The witness may step down, but don’t leave Hatrack River, please.”

  Webster stood again. “Your Honor, I have a few questions on redirect.”

  “Oh, of course. Miss Sump, I beg your pardon. Please remain seated and remember you’re still under oath.”

  Webster leaned back in his chair. “Miss Sump, you say that Alvin comes to you in the night. How does he do that?”

  “He slips out of his cell and right through the walls of the jail and then he runs like a Red man, all caught up in... in... Redsong, so he reaches Vigor Church in a single hour and he ain’t even tired. No, he is not tired!” She giggled.

  Redsong. Verily had had enough conversation with Alvin by now to know that it was greensong, and if he’d really had any intimacy with this girl she’d know that. She was remembering things she’d heard from his lessons months and months ago in Vigor Church, when she went to class with people trying to learn to be Makers. That’s all this was—the imaginings of a young girl combined with scraps of things she learned about Alvin. But it might take the golden plow away from him, and perhaps more important, it might send him to jail and destroy his reputation forever. This was not an innocent fib, and for all her pretense at loving Alvin, she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

  “Does he come to you every night?”

  “Oh, he can’t do that. Just a couple of times a w
eek.”

  Webster was done with her, but now Verily had a couple more questions. “Miss Sump, where does Alvin visit you?”

  “In Vigor Church.”

  “You’re only a girl, Miss Sump, and you live with your parents. Presumably you are supervised by them. So my question is quite specific—where are you when Alvin visits you?”

  She was momentarily flustered. “Different places.”

  “Your parents let you go about unchaperoned?”

  “No, I mean—we always start out at home. Late at night. Everybody’s asleep.”

  “Do you have a room of your own?”

  “Well, no. My sisters sleep in the same room with me.”

  “So where do you meet Alvin?”

  “In the woods.”

  “So you deceive your parents and sneak into the woods at night?”

  The word deceive was a red flag to her. “I don’t deceive nobody!” she said, with some heat.

  “So they know you’re going to the woods alone to meet Alvin.”

  “No. I mean—I know they’d stop me, and it’s true love between us, so I don’t sneak out, because Papa bars the door and he’d hear me so I—at the county fair I was able to slip away and—“

  “The county fair was in broad daylight, not at night,” said Verily, hoping he was right.

  “Argumentative!” shouted Webster. But his interruption served not to help the girl but fluster her more.

  “If this happens a couple of times a week, Miss Sump, you surely don’t depend on the county fair to provide you with opportunities, do you?” asked Verily.

  “No, that was just the once, just the one time. The other times...”

  Verily waited, refusing to ease her path by filling her long silence with words. Let the jury see her making things up as she went along.

  “He comes into my room, all silent. Right through the walls. And then he takes me out the same way, silent, through the walls. And then we run with the Redsong to the place where he gives me his love by moonlight.”

  “It must be an amazing experience,” said Verily. “For have your lover appear at your bedside and raise you up and carry you through the walls and take you silently across miles and miles in an instant to an idyllic spot where you have passionate embraces by moonlight. You’re in your nightclothes. Doesn’t it get cold?”