Redemption Mountain

by FitzGerald, Gerry

  “Don’t get all worked up, Woody,” said Natty, as she rewrapped his left leg. “Look at the life of luxury you’re living now.”

  Woody burst into a huge white smile and laughed. “Wheehee, you’re right about that, child. Got the good life now. Did I tell you Mabel Willard brought us up a turkey pot pie t’other day?”

  “Tell Charlie about the Red Bone mine, Woody. He’d be interested in that.”

  “Best mine I ever worked in. ’Course, by that time I wasn’t a nigger anymore. I was Mister Givens, shift foreman.” The old man laughed. “That’s what forty-four years o’ workin’ underground gets ya. A little bit a respect, after all. Yep, this was a good mine,” he said. “Slope mine safer and easier than the deep mines.”

  “A slope mine?” Charlie was unfamiliar with the term.

  Mr. Jacks was eager to join the conversation. “Slope mine is how you mine a seam o’ coal tha’s up in a mountain,” said Mr. Jacks. He stopped to cough and spit a mouthful of black liquid into a can on the floor.

  Charlie was curious. “So how do you get the coal out?”

  “Why, the oldest way there is. You get up to where the coal is and you tunnel right into it. Called a drift mouth. Then you go in and bring out the coal.”

  “Do they still do slope mines?” Charlie asked.

  Woody shrugged and shook his head. “Naw, hardly ever see a slope mine anymore, lest it’s a small operation. Now they just blast away the mountain, bring in the big shovels, and push it all over the side.”

  “Mountaintop removal,” said Charlie.

  Woody scowled. “Ain’t even minin’, usin’ dynamite to destroy a whole mountain. No skill, no engineerin’ at all in that.”

  “Could you still get the coal out with a slope mine?”

  Natty looked at Charlie as she took Mr. Jacks’s blood pressure.

  “Well, o’ course you could,” said Woody, pulling his pants back on. “Problem is, it costs more—’bout twelve dollars a ton, I always heard. That’s a lot a money. ’Course, some of it goes into miners’ pockets, which ain’t all bad. But a man’s labor costs more than dynamite.”

  “Twelve dollars a ton,” Charlie repeated. “That is a lot of money,” he said, as he did the math in his head. Thirteen million a year. More than 250 million over the life of the mine. A significant amount, even to a company as large as OntAmex. But he needed to learn more about the feasibility of a slope mine for Redemption Mountain.

  The sound of a flip-top snapping open jarred Charlie from his thoughts. Natty handed him a Budweiser and brought one over to Woody. She went back to the refrigerator and returned with one for herself and for Mr. Jacks.

  “Okay, boys, workday’s over,” she said, sounding tired. She took a long pull on her beer and set it on the kitchen table, then grabbed four small juice glasses from a cupboard, took the bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the bag, and filled each glass. Charlie stood to help her, taking the glasses to Mr. Jacks and Woody.

  “Why, thank you, Mr. Burden,” said Woody. “Let’s have a toast to the Red Bone power plant.”

  Natty held up her glass and smiled. “To Charlie’s power plant,” she said, and took a sip of the whiskey.

  “That’s about the best sippin’ whiskey there is,” declared Woody, savoring his Jack Daniel’s. The room was hushed for a few moments, as everyone enjoyed the warmth of the liquor.

  Natty finally broke the silence. “Almost forgot,” she said, reaching into a front pocket of her jeans for the cigars. She handed one to Charlie as she moved over to the table next to Mr. Jacks.

  “You think of everything,” said Charlie, sliding the Macanudo from its tube.

  Natty cut the tip of her cigar with a small penknife, then handed the knife to Charlie. He clipped off the tip of his and watched Natty light up. He could see that this was not the first cigar she had ever smoked.

  “How ’bout this, boys? Cold Bud, a shot of Old No. 7, a good cigar, and great company.” Natty smiled and winked at Woody.

  “You said it all there, child,” he said.

  Charlie leaned back in his chair and smiled. “This is probably what heaven is like,” he suggested, taking a pull on his cigar. Woody grinned.

  For another hour, Charlie basked in the company of Natty and the two old miners as they joked and reminisced about Old Red Bone, the Pocahontas Hotel, and its former residents. They finished the Jack Daniel’s and shared the last two Budweisers. Sitting in the dark, musty room, in a hidden corner of Appalachia, Charlie felt as warm and contented as he had in a very long time.

  As he and Natty were leaving, Charlie invited Woody and Mr. Jacks to his lobster party the following Saturday. In spite of their trepidation at seeing a lobster for the first time, the old miners were thrilled by the invitation.

  * * *

  THE COOL, DAMP air of the street was refreshing after the closeness of the smoky room. Charlie and Natty walked down Main Street, making a detour around a huge puddle. Natty’s voice was amplified in the thick air. “Thanks, Charlie, for doing that. You got no idea how much that means to them. Don’t get many visitors.”

  “I enjoyed it. Enjoyed watching you help them.”

  “Those boys, they ain’t got much time left. Kermel ain’t got long at all, way he’s goin’, and Woody, pretty soon they’ll start cuttin’ his legs off little by little, and he’ll have to live in one of them old residence hospitals in Charleston or Beckley.” Natty sighed. “God, I’m going to miss them. Hey,” she added, touching Charlie’s arm. “That was real nice, inviting them to your football party. They’ll enjoy that.”

  “I’m glad they want to come. You know, you’re invited, too.”

  “Lobsters, huh? Where you getting lobsters around here?”

  “My son’s shipping them down from Boston. They pack them in ice and send them anywhere you want.”

  Natty nodded. “Yeah, that shouldn’t cost too much.”

  Charlie laughed. “So you’ll come?”

  “Never had a lobster. Suppose I shouldn’t miss the chance.” They walked the last few yards to Natty’s car without speaking. A nervous tension surrounded them, made more acute by the stillness of the night. Natty wondered what time it was, but she didn’t want to check her watch and risk Charlie thinking that she was in hurry.

  Charlie took a deep breath and swallowed back the nervousness in his throat as they walked through the darkness. The street was illuminated solely by an old-fashioned streetlamp on the far side of Main Street. It reminded him of the streetlamps of his youth; his gang would throw stones at them to see who could pop the little bulb and send a shower of sparks to the pavement.

  They reached Natty’s car and she opened the back door of the Honda. Charlie put her case on the backseat. “Thanks, Natty, for letting me come along,” he said. “It was a very enjoyable evening.”

  Natty put her hands in her pockets and leaned back against the Honda. Charlie studied her delicate face in the dim light and wondered if there was another woman anywhere like Natty. Natty spoke first. “Charlie, I been thinking a lot lately about you leaving here—going to China, like you said.” She gazed up into the darkness across the street, as if she needed to avoid his eyes. “Gives me a real empty feeling,” she nearly whispered.

  “I’ve got some time left here, Natty. Won’t be before—”

  “Charlie,” she said, turning back to look into his face, “what I’m saying here is … if you were to ask me to go upstairs, for a beer or something, well, I’d probably go.”

  Charlie swallowed hard. He needed to get this right, because he knew that Natty had made a decision that was probably as difficult as any choice she’d ever made. But he needed to say no to her, to deny himself what he’d been aching for all evening, aching for since he’d come to Red Bone. He took a deep breath, stalling for time.

  “Nat, we can’t do that,” he said finally. “Not tonight.”

  Natty pressed a little harder against the side of the car and blew out a deep breath. “Well, th
at’s a relief,” she said. “I ain’t too sure I got clean underwear on, anyway.”

  They both laughed. They seemed to laugh a lot, thought Charlie, as he smiled at her. He reached out and gently pushed back the shock of hair that fell over her eye. “Earlier this week, Nat,” he continued, “I had to lie to my wife about you, and I didn’t like how that felt.”

  Natty squinted up at him. “What’d you have to lie about, Charlie?”

  “Wasn’t about you, directly. It was about why I couldn’t go up to Vermont with her this weekend. I made up some stuff about my broken nose and too much work, but it was about you. You’re the reason I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay here and see you, do what we did tonight, and go to the soccer game tomorrow. To see the kids and Pie.”

  Natty looked down at her feet.

  Charlie knew that he was embarrassing her, but he had to continue. “And I wanted to be alone with you,” he said, “and hear you say the words you just said.”

  Natty sniffed. “So, what, Charlie?”

  “Nat, last winter my wife had an affair—an old friend of hers. Didn’t last long, couple of months, I guess, but I found out about it from someone else. I can still remember how that felt … when I found out.” He winced at the memory. “I don’t know which felt worse, her having an affair or having someone else tell me.”

  “I know what that feels like, Charlie,” Natty whispered.

  “I can’t do that to her,” he continued. “Whatever happens with us, I want it to be different. I need to tell Ellen how I feel … before anything happens.”

  Natty wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “Jeez, Charlie, you goin’ for husband of the year or something?”

  Charlie laughed. “Hardly,” he said, looking away. “Nothing like that.”

  “What are you going to tell her, Charlie?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far.”

  They both chuckled. He looked across the street and paused for a few seconds. “First I’m going to tell her that I love her,” he said. “We’ve been married for twenty-six years, and for twenty-five of those years, Ellen was as good a wife and mother as a woman can be. One mistake, one … experiment, doesn’t wipe all that out.” He squinted into the streetlight.

  “Plus, it wasn’t all her fault. You remember how you told me it wasn’t all Buck’s fault that day he hit you?” She nodded briefly. “Well, Ellen’s thing, that wasn’t all her fault, either.”

  “What’d you do, Charlie?”

  He saw the curious look on Natty’s face. “I changed,” he said. “We had a nice life together. Then, after the kids left and my job changed, then I changed. We were living the life that Ellen always wanted, and I realized I didn’t really want that life. So I made some decisions without thinking about her. I abandoned her. Not physically, but socially and emotionally, and I pretended that it shouldn’t matter. It’s hard to explain.”

  Charlie paused for a moment. “I also have to tell her that I met this woman in West Virginia. A remarkable woman. The nicest, kindest … funniest, most selfless person I’ve ever met.” He looked up from his feet and met Natty’s eyes. “A woman who has no idea of how beautiful she is or how special she is.”

  Natty turned away to hide her face.

  “I probably won’t tell Ellen about how my palms get sweaty and my heart beats like a drum every time I see this woman—that wouldn’t be fair—but I have to tell her that I can’t get her out of my head and I’m not sure I ever will, and that, when the time comes to leave West Virginia, to leave her … I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that.”

  In the darkness, Natty tried to blink away the tears as best she could. After several moments, she brought her sleeve up and pressed her eyes to it. She sniffed and sighed as she turned back to the light.

  “You okay?” asked Charlie. “You’re not going to throw up on me, are you?”

  Natty smiled. “I’m okay. Just never been called remarkable before.” They both laughed softly. “Gotta go,” she said, turning to find the door handle. Charlie watched until the Honda, sending up white clouds of exhaust into the cool night air, disappeared around the corner.

  CHAPTER 26

  Charlie zipped his windbreaker against the morning chill as he walked up a short hill to the soccer field in Princeton. The sky was a slate gray, threatening rain. The referee was carrying a ball to the center of the field, and Charlie could see the Bones on the far sideline, huddled around Natty for a last-minute pep talk. He began to feel the gnawing in his gut that he always experienced now when he saw her, made more acute by the shared intimacies of the previous evening.

  The Princeton team, outfitted in sharp purple shirts, dominated the early game. But it didn’t take long for the Bones to settle down to their game and for the Princeton team to lose their confidence. After Emma unleashed a bullet into the top corner of the net, she jogged back up the field, taking a wide detour toward the visitors’ sideline for an enthusiastic high-five from a tall boy with blond hair, wearing blue jeans. Charlie recognized the Welch midfielder Gabe and smiled, realizing why Emma seemed to be playing with a little extra flare.

  A few minutes later, Sammy scored off a corner kick and Natty called a time-out. She put Emma and Sammy on defense and put the Pie Man in the game. The boy scurried around the middle of the field, always a few steps late to the free balls. But he also was playing with extra determination today. Charlie watched as a long ball went past the Princeton defenders with Pie and the other forwards in hot pursuit. The ball went over the end line and Pie bent over to catch his breath.

  “Hey there, Pie Man, good job!” Charlie called out. Pie straightened up with a smile. He raised a hand for their usual high-five wave.

  “Hello, Charlie,” he said, still short of breath. He looked as if he was about to say something else, but he stopped and, for a fleeting moment, shifted his gaze to the hill beyond Charlie. Charlie pointed as the goalie sent a long goal kick back upfield. Pie whirled and raced off to join the action.

  When the play was down in the Bones’ end of the field, Charlie would steal a glance along the sideline to watch Natty—and think about last night and what they had come so close to. She turned to follow the ball up the field and saw Charlie. Her hands were in the pockets of her black warm-up jacket, and the bill of her hat was pulled down low over her eyes, but her smile made Charlie’s heart thump and forced him to draw in a cold breath. Then she quickly turned her attention back to the game.

  Charlie watched Natty come to a stop and rock back and forth on her tan construction boots, her thin legs and small waist camouflaged by the baggy jeans. He envisioned her up on the boulder, lying back on her elbows next to him, gazing out at the mountains, telling him her stories, giggling, smiling, laughing at herself, her T-shirt pulled tightly around her breasts, her smooth legs splayed out lazily on the curved rock, having no conception of how alluring she was. Then he saw her kneading the cold flesh of the old black man’s legs, the muscles in her arms and hands shining with moisture in the dim light of the smoky room, and then sitting on the bed, laughing and sipping Jack Daniel’s with the three men and enjoying her cigar.

  When Natty turned abruptly to move back up the field, Charlie felt a cold chill as he realized that he’d made a horrible mistake the previous night. If he’d taken her upstairs and they’d made love, today would have been the first day of a giddy, glorious minefield of a future that they would be exploring together. Charlie ached for that feeling—to share that with Natty—but he knew the opportunity was lost.

  The Bones carried their water bottles out to the spot in front of the goal where they would sit and listen to Natty’s halftime instructions. Charlie took a few steps onto the field to catch Natty’s eye, then stopped as two men approached her from the home side. Natty shook hands with the men. They seemed to be having a lighthearted discussion, before one of the men got a little more serious. Natty listened intently, nodding several times with a few words in return, then smiled broadly as they sho
ok hands again. They turned to cross the field and Natty started toward her team in front of the goal.

  When she saw Charlie, Natty seemed to hesitate before ambling slowly toward him. Charlie stood still, his hands pushed down into the pockets of his windbreaker, watching her approach. When she was still twenty feet away, he nodded toward the two men. “Good news?”

  “I guess it is,” she said. “Invited us to the Thanksgiving tournament in Charleston. First time ever for Red Bone. Kids are going to be thrilled.” There was something distant about her, about the way she spoke, the way she avoided his eyes, and the same feeling of emptiness that he’d experienced earlier swept over him again. Then she turned toward him and squinted with a wrinkled-up nose. She adjusted the strap of the athletics bag on her shoulder and let out a sigh. “Charlie,” she breathed out, “Buck’s here.”

  It took Charlie by surprise. “Where—” he started, but Natty cut him off.

  “Up on the hill, in back of you. With Sally.” Charlie could feel the eyes on the hill trained upon them.

  “That’s good that he came to watch Pie play,” he said, trying to sound sincere.

  “First time ever Buck’s come to one of our games. Seven years, and he finally comes to a game,” she said, almost to herself.

  “Charlie, last night…” She hesitated. “Last night, that was like the best date I ever had. Thank you for going over and seeing Woody and Mr. Jacks with me. That was real nice.” She let out another sigh and looked up. “I gotta go, Charlie.” Her eyes darted almost imperceptibly up the hill behind him, then back again. “Okay?” she said softly.

  “Sure, I understand, Nat.” Charlie made a show of looking at his watch. “I’ve got to get going, anyway.”

  Natty gave the Bones the news about the tournament, and Charlie heard their excited shouts as he walked toward the parking lot.

  * * *

  WOODY GIVENS’S DESCRIPTION of slope mining ran through Charlie’s mind as he waited for his office computer to warm up. Easiest way there is to mine coal … twelve dollars a ton … puts more miners to work. Charlie glanced out his window at the power plant. The project was now well ahead of schedule, with no major problems on the horizon, which also meant it was beating budget, too.