Wish You Well Part 24

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT.

OUTSIDE THE COURTHOUSE, FORDS, CHEVYS, AND Chryslers were slant-parked next to wagons pulled by mules and horses. A dusting of snow had given pretty white toppers to just about everything, yet no one was paying any attention to that. They had all hurried into the courthouse to see a much grander show. Chryslers were slant-parked next to wagons pulled by mules and horses. A dusting of snow had given pretty white toppers to just about everything, yet no one was paying any attention to that. They had all hurried into the courthouse to see a much grander show.

The courtroom had never held so many souls. The seats on the main floor were filled. Folks even stood in the back and were sandwiched five deep on the second-floor balcony. There were town men in suits and ties, women in church dresses and boxy hats with veils and fake flowers or dangling fruit. Next to them were farmers in clean overalls and felt hats held in hand, their chew stashed in meir pockets. Their women were beside them, Chop dresses to the ankles and wire gla.s.ses over worn, creased faces. They looked around the room excitedly as though they were about to see a queen or movie star stroll in.

Children were wedged here and there among the adults like mortar between brick. To get a better look, one boy climbed up on the railing around the balcony and clung to a support column. A man hauled him down and sternly told him that this was a court of law and dignity was required here, not tomfoolery. The ashamed boy trudged off. And then the man chmbed up on the railing for a better look-see himself.

Cotton, Lou, and Oz were heading up the steps of the courthouse when a boy in an overcoat, slacks, and s.h.i.+ny black shoes ran up to them.

"My pa says you're doing wrong by the whole town on account of one woman. He said we got to have the gas folks here, any way we can." The little fellow looked at Cotton as though the lawyer had spit on the boy's mother and then laughed about it.

"Is that right?" said Cotton. "Well, I respect your daddy's opinion, though I don't agree with it. Now, you tell him if he wants to discuss it with me in person later, I'd be right glad to do so." Cotton glanced around and saw someone who he was sure was the child's father, for the boy favored the man and he had been staring at them, but quickly looked away. Cotton glanced at all the cars and wagons and then said to the boy, "You and your daddy better get yourselves inside and get a seat. Looks to be a right popular spot today."

When they entered the courtroom, Cotton was still amazed at the numbers in attendance. Yet, the hard work of farming was was over for now, and people had time on their hands. And for the townsfolk it was an accessible show promising fireworks at a fair price. It seemed they were determined to miss not one legal trick, not one semantical headlock. For many this probably would be the most exciting time of their lives. And wasn't that a sad thing, Cotton thought. over for now, and people had time on their hands. And for the townsfolk it was an accessible show promising fireworks at a fair price. It seemed they were determined to miss not one legal trick, not one semantical headlock. For many this probably would be the most exciting time of their lives. And wasn't that a sad thing, Cotton thought.

Yet, he knew the stakes here were were high. A place dying once more only perhaps to be revitalized by a deep-pocketed company. And all he had to lay against that was an old woman lying in a bed, her senses seemingly struck from her. And there were also two anxious children counting on him; and lying in another bed a woman who maybe he could lose his heart to if only she would awaken. high. A place dying once more only perhaps to be revitalized by a deep-pocketed company. And all he had to lay against that was an old woman lying in a bed, her senses seemingly struck from her. And there were also two anxious children counting on him; and lying in another bed a woman who maybe he could lose his heart to if only she would awaken. Lord, how was he ever going to survive this? Lord, how was he ever going to survive this?

"Find a seat," Cotton told the children. "And keep quiet."

Lou gave him a peck on the cheek. "Good luck." She crossed her fingers for him. A farmer they knew made room for them in one of the rows of seats.

Cotton went up the aisle, nodding at people he recognized in the crowd. Smack in me front row were Miller and Wheeler.

Goode was at the counsel table, seeming as happy as a hungry man at a church supper as he looked around at a crowd that seemed famished to witness this contest.

"You ready to have a go at this?" said Goode.

"As ready as you are," Cotton replied gamely.

Goode chuckled. "With all due respect, I doubt that."

Fred the bailiff appeared and said his official words, and they all rose, and the Court of the Honorable Henry J. Atkins was now in session.

"Send in the jury," the judge said to Fred.

The jury filed in. Cotton looked at them one by one, and almost fell to the floor when he saw George Davis as one of men chosen.

He thundered, "Judge, George Davis wasn't one of me jurors we voir dired. He has a vested interest in me outcome of tins case."

Atkins leaned forward. "Now, Cotton, you know we have a hard enough time getting jurors to serve. I had to (drop Leroy Jenkins because he got kicked by his mule. Now, I know he's not the most popular person around, but George Davis has as much right to serve as any other man. Look here, George, can you keep a fair and open mind about this case?"

Davis had his churchgoing clothes on and looked quietly respectable. "Yes, sir," he said politely and looked around. "Why, y'all knowed Louisa's place right next to mine. Get along good." He smiled a black-toothed smile, which he seemed to have difficulty with, as though it were something he'd never before attempted.

"I'm sure Mr. Davis will make a fine juror, Your Honor," said Goode. "No objection here."

Cotton looked at Atkins, and the curious expression on the judge's face made Cotton think twice about what was really going on here.

Lou sat in her seat, silently fuming at this. It was wrong. And she wanted to stand up and say it was, yet for once in her life she was too intimidated. This was a court of law, after all.

"He's lying!" The voice thundered, and every head in the place turned to its source.

Lou looked next to her to find Oz standing on his seat, taller now than all in the courtroom. His eyes were on fire, his finger pointed straight at George Davis. "He's lying," Oz roared again in a voice so deep Lou did not even recognize it as her brother's. "He hates Louisa. It's wrong for him to be here."

Cotton had been struck dumb like all the others. He glanced around the room. Judge Atkins stared at the little boy, none too pleased. Goode was about ready to spring to his feet. And Davis's look was so fierce that Cotton was very grateful that no gun was handy for the man. Cotton raced to Oz and swooped up the boy.

"Apparently, the propensity for public outbursts runs in the Cardinal family," Atkins boomed. "Now, we can't have that, Cotton."

"I know, Judge. I know."

"It's wrong. That man is a liar!" yelled Oz.

Lou was scared. She said, "Oz, please, it's okay."

"No, it's not, Lou," said Oz. "That man is hateful. He starves his family. He's wicked!"

"Cotton, take that child out," roared the judge. "Right now."

Cotton carried out Oz, with Lou trailing in their wake.

They sat on the cold courthouse steps. Oz wasn't crying. He just sat there and smacked his small fists against his slender thighs. Lou felt tears trickle down her cheeks as she watched him. Cotton put an arm around Oz's shoulders.

"It's not right, Cotton," said Oz. "It's just not right." The boy kept punching his legs.

"I know, son. I know. But it'll be okay. Why, having George Davis on that jury might be a good thing for us."

Oz stopped hitting himself. "How can that be?"

"Well, it's one of the mysteries of the law, Oz, but you'll just have to trust me on it. Now I suspect y'all still want to watch the trial." They both said that they would very dearly want to do that.

Cotton glanced around and saw Deputy Howard Walker standing by the door. "Howard, it's a little cold for these children to be waiting out here. If I guarantee no more outbursts, can you find a way to get them back in, 'cause I got to get going. You understand."

Walker smiled and gripped his gunbelt. "Y'all come on with me, children. Let Cotton go work his magic."

Cotton said, "Thank you, Howard, but helping us might cost you some popularity in this town."

"My daddy and brother died in those mines. Southern Valley can go to h.e.l.l. Now, you get on in there and show them what a fine lawyer you are."

After Cotton went back in, Walker took Lou and Oz in through a rear entrance and got them settled at a spot in the balcony reserved for special visitors, after receiving a solemn promise from Oz that he would not be heard from again.

Lou looked at her brother and whispered. "Oz, you were really brave to do that. I was afraid to." He smiled at her. Then she realized what was missing. "Where's the bear I bought you?"

"Shoot, Lou, I'm too old for bears and thumb sucking.

Lou looked at her brother and suddenly realized that this was true. And a tear clutched at her eye, for she suddenly had an image of her brother grown tall and strong and no longer in need of his big sister.

Down below, Cotton and Goode were having a heated sidebar with Judge Atkins at the bench.

"Now look here, Cotton," said Atkins. "I'm not unmindful of what you're saying about George Davis, and your objection is duly noted for the record, but Louisa delivered two of those jurors into this world, and the Commonwealth didn't object to that." He looked over at Goode. "Mr. Goode, will you excuse us for a minute here?"

The lawyer looked shocked. "Your Honor, an ex parte contact with counsel? We don't do those sorts of things in Richmond."

"Well, d.a.m.n good thing this ain't Richmond then. Now, just take yourself on over there for a bit." Atkins waved his hand like he was flicking at flies, and Goode reluctantly moved back to his counsel table.

"Cotton," said Atkins, "we both know there's a lot of interest in this case, and we both know why: money. Now, we got Louisa laying over to hospital and most folks thinking she's not going to make it anyway. And then we got us Southern Valley cash staring folks in the face."

Cotton nodded. "So you're thinking the jury is going to go against us despite the merits of the case?"

"Well, I can't really say, but if you do lose here-"

"Then having George Davis on the jury gives me real good grounds for appeal," finished Cotton.

Atkins looked very pleased that Cotton had seized upon this strategy so readily. "Why, I never thought of that. Real glad you did. Now let's get this show on the road."

Cotton moved back to his counsel table while Atkins smacked his gavel and announced, "Jury is hereby impaneled. Be seated."

The jury collectively sat itself down.

Atkins looked them over slowly before his gaze came to rest on Davis. "One more thing now before we start. I've had my backside on this here bench for thirty-four years, and there's never been anything close to jury tampering or messing around along those lines in my courtroom- And there's never going to be such, for if there ever was, the folks that did it will think spending their whole lives in the coal mines a birthday party compared to what I'll do to them." He gave Davis one more good stare, fired similar broadsides at both Goode and Miller, and then said, "Now the parties have waived their opening statements. So Commonwealth, call your first witness."

"Commonwealth calls Dr. Luther Ross," said Goode.

The ponderous Dr. Ross rose and went to the witness stand. He had the gravity lawyers liked, when he was on their their side; otherwise he was just a well-paid liar. side; otherwise he was just a well-paid liar.

Fred swore him in. "Raise your right hand, put your left one on the Bible. Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you G.o.d?"

Ross said he most certainly would tell the truth and nothing but, and wedged himself into the witness chair.

Fred retreated and Goode approached.

"Dr. Ross, sir, would you state your mighty fine credentials for the jury please?"

"I'm chief of the asylum down over to Roanoke. I've taught courses in mental evaluation at the Medical College in Richmond, and at the University of Virginia. And I've personally handled over two thousand cases like this one."

"Well now, I am sure Mr. Longfellow and this court would agree that you are truly an expert in your field. In fact, you may be the number-one expert in your field, and I would say this jury deserves to hear nothing less."

"Objection, Your Honor!" said Cotton. "I don't believe there's any proof mat Mr. Goode is an expert in ranking experts."

"Sustained, Cotton," said Atkins. "Get on with it, Mr. Goode."

Goode smiled benignly, as though this tiny skirmish had been a way for him to evaluate Cotton's mettle. "Now, Mr. Ross," said Goode, "have you had occasion to examine Louisa Mae Cardinal?"

"I have."

"And what is your expert opinion on her mental competence?"

Ross smacked the frame of the witness box with one of his flabby hands. "She is not not mentally competent. In fact, my considered opinion is she should be inst.i.tutionalized." mentally competent. In fact, my considered opinion is she should be inst.i.tutionalized."

There came a loud buzz from the crowd, and Atkins impatiently pounded his gavel. "Quiet down," said he.

Goode continued. "Inst.i.tutionahzed? My, my. That's some serious business. So you're saying she's in no shape to handle her own affairs? Say, for the sale of her property?"

"Absolutely not. She could be easily taken advantage of. Why, that poor woman can't even sign her own name. Probably doesn't know what her name is." He eyed the jury with a most commanding look. "Inst.i.tutionalized," he said again in the projected voice of a stage actor.

Goode asked a series of carefully crafted questions, and to each he got the answers he wanted: Louisa Mae was undoubtedly mentally unfit, according to the esteemed expert Dr. Luther Ross.

"No further questions," Goode finally said.

"Mr. Longfellow?" said Atkins. "I suspect you want to na nave a go."

Cotton got up, took off his gla.s.ses, and dangled them by his side as he addressed the witness.

"You say you've examined over two thousand people?"

"That's correct," Ross said with a lift of his chest.

"And how many did you find incompetent, sir?"

Ross's chest immediately deflated, for he clearly hadn't expected that inquiry. "Uh, well, it's hard to say."

Cotton glanced at the jury and moved toward him. "No, it's really not. You just have to say say it. Let me help you a little. A hundred percent? Fifty percent?" it. Let me help you a little. A hundred percent? Fifty percent?"

"Not a hundred percent."

"But not fifty?"

"No."

"Let's whittle it on down now. Eighty? Ninety? Ninety-five?"

Ross thought for a few moments. "Ninety-five percent sounds about right."

"Okay. Let me see now. I think that works out to be nineteen hundred out of two thousand. Lord, that's a lot of crazy people, Dr. Ross."

The crowd laughed and Atkins banged his gavel, but a tiny smile escaped him as well.

Ross glared at him. "I just call 'em like I see 'em, lawyer."

"Dr. Ross, how many stroke victims have you examined to determine whether they're mentally competent?"

"Uh, why, none that I can recall offhand."