Redemption Mountain (20 page)

He opened the
Planning Board
folder and stared incredulously at the first document, an eight-by-ten copy of a black-and-white photograph, an enlargement of a newspaper clipping. Charlie looked at the caption at the bottom for confirmation:
The Red Bone planning board convened its quarterly meeting last week at the high school.

Charlie stared at the three men seated at what looked like a school cafeteria table, each with a nameplate in front of him. He stared at the picture for a few more moments, then shook his head slowly and smiled. Holding the picture up to the light, he began to laugh as he focused on the center figure, with the familiar white handlebar mustache and long goatee. The sign in front of Hank read,
PULLMAN J. HANKINSON,
and, under his name,
CHAIRMAN.
Charlie looked at the caption again:…
seated are Burt Fitch, P. J. Hankinson, and Bobby Hagerman.

“Miserable pricks, all three of 'em,” Charlie said out loud, still chuckling.
Welcome to West Virginia, Burden
, he thought. He picked up the folder marked
DeWitt.
Curious, he opened it to find another grainy enlargement.

It was a newspaper photo of three people: an older woman, a man in the middle, who was obviously the farmer, Bud DeWitt, and, next to him, a tall, gangly younger man. The caption beneath the picture read,
Alice, Bud, and Petey DeWitt of Redemption Mountain, enjoying the McDowell County Fair.
All three wore taciturn expressions. Bud DeWitt had the hard, weathered look of a man who'd engaged in physical labor his whole life. He wore what appeared to be a brand-new baseball cap with a
PETERBILT
logo on the front.

The second sheet in the folder appeared to be a graduation picture. This was a professionally done glossy color print of a stunningly beautiful young woman. She had light blue eyes and a relaxed, natural smile that showed perfect white teeth. Long blond hair, parted in the middle, and the heavy eye makeup and pink lip gloss had the unmistakable look of the sixties. The back of the picture read,
Sarah Carlson DeWitt, b. 1946, Waukesha, WI, wife of Thomas DeWitt (deceased, 1977), high school graduation picture, 1964.

Charlie turned the picture over again and stared at the face. It seemed so familiar. He shook his head and tossed the picture back into the file and went to bed.

 

CHAPTER 12

 

I
t was nearly 6:30
P.M.
when Natty finally pulled up in front of the Olander Legal Clinic in Welch. Through the large storefront windows, she could see the lawyer pacing, his hands in his pockets. He had reluctantly agreed to stay until 6:00 p.m., the soonest she could get into Welch.

Ted Olander greeted Natty with an impatient smile and ushered her into his cramped office. He was in his midforties, slightly overweight, and well dressed in a charcoal suit with suspenders. He glanced at his watch as he took his chair behind the desk and pulled a yellow legal pad in front of him. “Now, Miss … Mrs. Oakes? What can I do for you?”

“It's Mrs., and I need some legal advice about coal mining.”

“Coal mining,” the lawyer said, dropping his pencil on the pad. He'd made a quick assumption, watching her get out of the car, that her concern would be of a domestic nature.

“Yes, sir. Coal mining, specifically mountaintop-removal mining on Redemption Mountain.” She told him about her grandparents' farm, the recent activity of the surveyors, and about Bud's suspicions regarding the OntAmex deal with Ackerly Coal. She described the offer to buy the farm for considerably more than it was worth. At this, Olander showed a flicker of interest and made a quick notation. “So, Mr. Olander, what can we do to stop this? And what would it cost?”

Olander was speechless for several seconds. Finally, a thin smile crept across his face. “I'm sorry, Mrs. Oakes. I don't mean to make light of your situation, but let me give you some advice.” Olander leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. “Ackerly Coal is a huge company, one of the largest coal producers in the world. It's owned by Continental Electric Systems, which is probably fifty times bigger than Ackerly. And OntAmex—which, incidentally, is in the process of buying up Continental—is probably a hundred times bigger than Continental. It's one of the biggest energy companies in the world.” He paused to let his words sink in.

“Mrs. Oakes, if these companies want to mine coal on Redemption Mountain, there's nothing you or your grandpa or anyone else can do to stop them, because OntAmex and Ackerly will have the county, state, and federal government in their pocket. And the OntAmex plant in Red Bone is a real bonanza for the state and McDowell County. It's a billion-dollar plant, with millions of dollars in tax revenue and spin-off economic activity. The state lobbied real hard to get OntAmex to build here instead of over in Kentucky or in Virginia, so you can just bet that the OntAmex Company got everything they wanted.”

Olander looked at his watch and proceeded to wrap things up. “Now, in answer to your question about cost, you'd need one of the big Charleston firms—New York or Washington would be better, but one of the Charleston outfits could do it. The cost would probably be in the area of five million over the two, three, four years it would go on, somewhere in that ballpark.” He waited a few moments, then stood, indicating that he needed to leave. As he put on his jacket, he added, “In the end, Mrs. Oakes, you'd lose. You could win all the legal battles, but eventually they'll carve up Redemption Mountain and take their coal.” He glanced at his watch again, then at Natty. “Way it's always been here.”

Natty sat for a few seconds, then replied to the lawyer, “So what you're saying is that we got a real good case here.” She grinned as she got up from her chair. Olander smiled with relief when he saw she was making a joke. He walked her toward the front door and spoke in a quiet voice, as if he didn't want to be overheard.

“Mrs. Oakes, the thing you have to realize is that these utility and coal guys—they're a tough bunch. They're not like regular businesspeople. They're cutthroats in fine suits. They've been fighting the unions and the regulators and each other for so long, they're used to it. Hell, they enjoy it. It's what they do—hire big law firms, buy politicians and judges, run over people, and mostly they get their own way. You don't want to go up against a company like Ackerly or OntAmex. Tell your grandpa to sell. Get a good price and sell, 'cause in the end, those boys aren't going to play fair.”

When she was gone, Ted Olander locked the front door and returned to his office. He'd done his best for the woman from Red Bone, given her some damn fine legal advice—
gratis
. Now maybe he could score a few points for himself. He thumbed through the large Rolodex on his desk and pulled out the card for Kerns & Yarbrough. He didn't expect to reach anyone in the office at 7:00
P.M.
, but he wanted to leave a voice mail to see what kind of interest it might generate. “I've received an inquiry from the granddaughter of a farmer on Redemption Mountain in McDowell County, concerning a possible surface mine by Ackerly Coal. Call me in the morning at…”

Driving as fast as she dared, the front end of her car shaking noticeably, Natty headed south out of Welch on Route 103. She would take the new road around the power plant. It bothered her that she'd be the one getting home late, because Buck had been good all week, working at the temporary cement job and coming home early without stopping off anywhere. She knew it wouldn't last—they'd been through these make-up periods before—but she needed to make it last as long as possible. They had such little good time together.

Thinking about Buck reminded her of the previous Saturday, the day that had started out so enjoyably in Eve's store, laughing to tears over that silly joke with Pie and Charlie Burden, who was so nice to her son. Then the walk down to the soccer field with Emma and Sammy and Pie—so proud of his new friend. She and Charlie chatting like two teenagers, and him taking an interest in her library. Then the irresponsible, exhilarating, erotic episode in Buck's truck—which filled her with a level of guilt she hadn't felt for a long time.

She was still livid with Buck, but she had no choice but to get in his truck. Buck had sped away from the curb. In the truck's side-view mirror, Natty stole a peek at Pie and Charlie, watching from the sidewalk. Buck drove for a mile before he spoke. He tried to sound contrite, but it was a hard role for him to play. Natty knew he felt bad about hitting her, but he was never very good at apologizing.

“Nat, I'm sorry about smackin' you last night. I wasn't thinking. You know I'd never want to hurt you. I was drunk, and I was pissed off about stuff, and, well, that ain't never gonna happen again.” Natty was silent.

Buck had driven north on Mountain Road, then turned off on an old logging road that ran through dense forest. “So, who was that guy you and the kid was walking with? Huh? Never seen him before. Nat?” She didn't answer. “Nat, I
asked
you, who was that guy?”

Natty could feel his anger growing. “He's nobody, Buck. He's just the new power-plant guy. Took Hugo Paxton's place. He took a look at the library, see how bad the roof is, that's all.”

“The guy from New York? The construction guy?” Buck shot a glance over at her. “That's good, Nat—you gettin' friendly with that guy. That's
real
good.”

They rode for several minutes before Natty spoke again. “Buck, that was the last time. You can't hit me no more, ever.”

“Nat, I swear—”

Natty cut him off. “And you can't see that woman in Northfork. You got to choose. If you go again, don't you ever come back to me. I mean it, Buck.”

“Aw, Nat, that's done with. It's over. That gal was just an itch I had to scratch. She don't mean nothin' to me.”

Natty drew in a quick breath to combat the sick feeling that engulfed her with the confirmation of Buck's latest infidelity. She had known it was true the moment Wayne Lester said it, but it felt different, like a kick in the stomach, coming from Buck's own lips. Tears filled her eyes.
What else was there to say? What the hell was she even doing here, trying to make her marriage work? Did she really love Buck, or was she just another ignorant hillbilly with nowhere else to go?
She blinked and leaned toward the open window to let the breeze dry her tears.

“Remember this place, Nat?” Buck had made a sharp turn off the logging road, and they bumped down a narrow dirt road.

She looked up. “I remember, Buck.” They would come down this road to where it ended in a small clearing, surrounded by thick trees, where no one would ever see them. This was where Natty learned about sex. Where she learned to bear the pain and the embarrassment and to pretend it was good. And, later, to enjoy it without reservation and take pride in her ability to satisfy Buck. They'd come to their spot two or three times a week the summer following Natty's junior year.

In the beginning, they'd come after going to the movies or a dance or a party. Later on, as Buck began to lose interest in hanging around with Natty's friends, he would pick her up and they'd come straight to the woods. Most times, he'd had a good deal to drink before he picked her up, and gradually their time spent in the front seat got shorter and shorter. Toward the end, Buck would turn off the truck and they'd crawl over the seat and get right to it. It wasn't how she wanted it, but she treasured every moment with Buck, and if sex was all they had, that's what she would take. It ended in September, when she went back to school for her senior year and found out she was two months' pregnant. The thought of coming back never came up after that.

The clearing was still there at the end of the road, but the trees and the bushes now left barely enough room to squeeze by in the wide pickup. Buck turned off the engine and pulled on the brake. Natty gazed through the windshield at the light-green canopy that enveloped them like a bubble. She felt cool and dark and protected. Through the open window, she could smell the earthy aroma of the woods, and it filled her with nostalgia for that brief season, thirteen years ago, when she had Buck so completely to herself. And now they were in the truck, in the woods, alone again.

She shouldn't be here, not today, not with Buck, after what he did. Why was she letting this happen? She knew where he was going when he turned down the logging road.
She gazed out the window and let her mind drift back to the morning, and thought about Charlie Burden.
They were alone in the library after Charlie had looked at the roof. The kids had gone back up the hill and the door was locked. They were only a yard apart in the dimly lit room.

Buck adjusted the bench seat back as far as it would go, then slid over next to Natty. She felt his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. He tossed her Spider-Man cap onto the dashboard and reached up with both hands to take the elastic out of her ponytail, letting her hair partially cover her face. He ran his fingers over her face as he brought his mouth to her cheek and whispered, “Nat, I ain't been much of a husband lately. I'm gonna make it up to you.”

She closed her eyes and leaned back. Buck's left hand was on her thigh, rubbing gently up and down from her knee.
She felt a stirring inside and took a deep breath. She moved forward and reached both hands under Charlie's T-shirt, feeling his ribs and the muscles on his chest and shoulders, as he pulled his shirt over his head. He caressed her neck, then held her face gently with both hands. He kissed her forehead lightly and then, slowly, her left cheek. Very softly, he said her name, then pulled her chin up and kissed her fully on the mouth.

Natty turned to Buck and opened her mouth to his, their tongues pressing warmly against each other. She put her hand on top of Buck's and pulled it over to her crotch as she slid down in the seat, stretching out her legs. Buck pulled her to him as she spread her legs. With her right hand, she unhooked her belt and the button of her blue jeans.
She kissed Charlie wetly on the mouth and pushed him down on the couch. She ran her hands over his chest as she worked her way down to the zipper of his khaki shorts. His eyes were closed, and his mouth opened as Natty pulled off his shorts. She straddled his hips with her knees and straightened up as she pulled her still-buttoned shirt up over her head. Charlie's hands clasped her small waist and moved up her rib cage to the front of her bra, releasing her breasts.