Redemption Mountain (64 page)

Charlie was winded and windblown by the time he reached the protection of the dense pines near the top of Oakes Hollow. He slowed to a jog and then to a walk over the soft covering of pine needles. The only sound in the woods was his breath. He stopped at the spot where Natty and he had their talk after she showed him the boulder. This would be his last visit to these woods. He closed his eyes and pictured Natty sitting on the stump.

Then Charlie's heart froze as he heard a metallic click, menacing and deadly and unmistakably not of the woods or of nature but man-made and just a few yards away. He peered into the shadows in front of him, from where the sound came. He blinked his eyes to see, trying not to move. A white speck flashed nearby, and a shape emerged—the eye, a head, hand, and forearm—followed by the dull glint of a crossbow and the silver tip of an arrow aimed at his face.

“Been waitin' for you, Burden.” Buck's voice was angry and raw, barely louder than a whisper. He moved slowly out of the trees, the arrow trained on Charlie's face. “Shame how much you look like a doe, hoppin' through the woods in that sweat suit.” Charlie could see Buck's face pressed against the bow's stock. “This distance, put one right through your left eye, arrow'd go halfway out the back o' your head.”

Charlie backed away slowly. “Buck, this is stupid.”

“Thought I told you to stay away from my wife.”

“I haven't done anything with your wife, Buck,” Charlie said, taking small steps backward toward the trail. Buck stopped, and Charlie thought he was getting ready to let the arrow fly. “Buck, don't do this. This is a mistake you'll—”

“This a mistake, too?” Buck snarled, tossing something shiny into the pine needles at Charlie's feet. He looked down and recognized the yellow plastic lantern at the end of the keys to the condo in Bluefield. Buck must've found them in Natty's car, along with the clothes she'd packed. “You know what them keys are, don't you, Burden? You was stealin' my wife, Burden. Stealin' my family.”

Charlie looked at the key chain and thought about Natty and how close they'd come to a new life together. Now it was over—because of a tragic accident and the death of a young girl—and Natty was left with Buck. His jaw tightened with anger, and he took a step toward Buck.

“You don't have a family, Buck, 'cause you've never been a father. And you don't have a wife, 'cause you've never been a husband. All you've ever been is a drunken bully who beats his wife and ignores his kids, and Natty was sick of it. Nobody was stealing her.” Charlie lowered his voice. “Natty'd been in love with you since the fourth grade. She tried as hard as she knew how, but after twelve years she'd had enough.” Charlie shook his head. “She was tired of being alone, Buck. Tired of being unloved.” He reached down and picked up the key chain. “You're not going to shoot me, Buck, 'cause you're a coward. Always have been. You've been afraid to be a husband, afraid to be a father. You've been afraid to admit that you're not a high school football star anymore. Afraid to become a man and do the things that men do.” Charlie turned his back to Buck and walked toward the trail. Ten yards away, he heard the bow gun clatter to the ground.

“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

 

C
harlie 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.

*   *   *

N
O 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 was 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.”