Gray Mountain

They arrived at the Cedar Grove Missionary Baptist Church half an hour early and barely got in the door. An usher made room for them on the third pew from the rear. Within minutes all seats were taken and people began lining the walls. Through a window, Samantha could see the latecomers being directed to the fellowship hall, the same place she’d met with Buddy and Mavis after Donovan’s death. When the organ started, the crowd grew still and expectant. At ten after four, the choir filed in behind the pulpit, and the preacher took his position. There was a commotion at the door. He raised his hands and said, “All rise.”

The pallbearers rolled the casket down the aisle, slowly, so everyone could have a look. Thankfully, it was closed. Mattie said it would be, on account of the wound and all. Behind it, Mavis was supported by her son, the oldest, and they moved along in an anguished shuffle. They were followed by the two girls, Hope, age fourteen, and Keely, age thirteen. Through the mysteries of adolescence, Hope, who was only ten months older, was at least a foot taller than Keely. Both were sobbing as they suffered through this painful ritual.

Mattie had tried to explain that much of what they were about to see was designed to maximize the drama and grief. It would be Buddy’s last hurrah, and they would milk it for all the emotion possible.

The rest of the family ambled by in loose formation—brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, and uncles. The first two rows on both sides of the aisle were reserved for family, and by the time they took their seats the organ was blaring at full volume, the choir was humming loudly, and folks were breaking down all over the church.

The service was a one-hour marathon, and when it was over no tears were left un-shed. All emotions were expended. The mourners had given their all. Samantha was dry-eyed but drained nonetheless. She could not recall the last time she wanted so badly to run from a building. She walked, however, with the rest of the crowd to the cemetery behind the church where Buddy was laid to rest amidst lengthy prayers and a tear-jerking rendition of “How Great Thou Art.” The solo baritone was a cappella, and profoundly moving. Samantha was stu

In keeping with tradition, the family remained in their chairs next to the grave as everyone proceeded by for a comforting word or two. The line wrapped around the burial tent and moved slowly. Mattie said it was best if they did not sneak away. So they inched forward, in single file with hundreds of complete strangers, waiting to squeeze the hands of Mavis and the kids, who had been sobbing now for hours.

“What am I supposed to say?” Samantha whispered to Mattie as they approached the grave.

“Just say, ‘God bless you,’ or something like that, and keep moving.” Samantha said this to the kids first, but when Mavis looked up and saw her she wailed anew and lunged for her in bear-hug fashion.

“This is our lawyer, kids, Miss Samantha, the one I told you about,” Mavis said with far too much volume. But the kids were too numb to care. They wanted to leave more than Samantha. Mavis said, “Please stay and have some supper. We’ll catch up later.”

“Sure,” Samantha said because there was nothing else to say. As she was released from the hug and scooted away from the tent, Mavis let loose with another shriek.

Supper was a “Baptist potluck,” as Mattie called it, in the fellowship hall. Long tables were covered with casseroles and desserts, and the crowd seemed to grow even bigger as two buffet lines started. Samantha had no appetite and couldn’t believe she was still there. She watched the horde attack the food and observed, to herself, that most could afford to skip a meal or two. Mattie brought her iced tea in a plastic cup, and they schemed ways to make a respectful departure. But Mavis had seen them, and they had promised to stay.

The family remained by the grave site until the casket was lowered. It was dark and supper was well under way when Mavis and her children entered the fellowship hall. They were given a preferred table in a corner and plates of food were taken to them. When Mavis saw Samantha and Mattie, she waved them over and insisted they sit with the family.

A piano played softly in the background and supper dragged on. As people began leaving, they stopped by for one last word with Mavis, who hadn’t touched her food. She still cried off and on, but there were some smiles now, even a laugh when someone recalled a fu

Samantha was tinkering with a wedge of some variety of red cake, trying to nibble just enough to be polite while trying to avoid it altogether, when Keely, the thirteen-year-old, eased into the chair next to her. She had short auburn hair and plenty of freckles, and her little eyes were red and swollen from the ordeal. She managed a smile, a gap-toothed grin more fitting for a ten-year-old. “My daddy liked you a lot,” she said.

Samantha hesitated for a second and said, “He was a very nice man.”

“Will you hold my hand?” she asked, reaching. Samantha took it and smiled at her. Everyone else at the table was either talking or eating. Keely said, “My daddy said you were the only lawyer brave enough to fight the coal companies.”

Almost tongue-tied, Samantha managed to reply, “Well, that was very nice of him to say, but there are other good lawyers.”

“Yes ma’am, but my daddy liked you the most. He said he hoped you didn’t go back to New York. He said if he’d found you ten years ago, we wouldn’t be in such a mess.”

“Again, that was very nice of him.”

“You’re go

“I’ll stay as long as I can.”

“You gotta help us, Miss Sam. You’re the only lawyer who’ll help us, at least that’s what my daddy said.”

39

A heavy, midweek rain drained into the rivers and streams of Curry County, and Yellow Creek was high enough for kayaking. It was warm for mid-January, and Samantha and Jeff spent most of Saturday afternoon racing up and down the creek in dueling kayaks, dodging boulders, floating on the still waters, and avoiding any mishaps. They built a fire on a sandbar and cooked hot dogs for a late lunch. Around 4:00 p.m., Jeff thought they should head for the cabin, which was about half a mile away upstream. By the time they arrived they were exhausted. Wasting no time, Jeff grabbed three backpacks and a rifle. He said, “Give me thirty minutes,” and disappeared toward Gray Mountain.

Samantha put a log on the fire and decided to wait on the porch. She took a quilt outside, settled under it, and tried to read a novel. She watched two deer ease into the shallow water of the creek and take a drink. They left and vanished into the woods.

If everything went as pla

Two rifle shots suddenly rang out, and she jumped out of her skin. Then two more! They were coming from just over the ridge, from Gray Mountain. She stood on the porch and looked in that direction. One more shot, for a total of five, and then nothing but silence. She could hear her heart pounding, but other than that there was complete silence. Five minutes passed, then ten. Fifteen. She was holding her cell phone but there was no service.