Gray Mountain: A Novel(40)

A rotting log made a pleasant resting place as they shared a bottle. He didn’t ask how she was doing and she didn’t inquire as to how much longer they would hike. When they caught their breath, he said, “We’re sitting on Dublin Mountain, about three hundred feet from the top. It’s next door to Enid Mountain, which you’ll see in a few minutes. If all goes as planned, in about six months Strayhorn Coal will bring in the dozers, thoroughly scalp this mountain, destroy all of these beautiful hardwoods, scatter all the animals, and start blasting away. Their application for a strip-mining permit is nearing approval. We’ve fought it for two years, but the fix is in.” He waved an arm at the trees and said, “This will all be gone before we know it.”

“Why not at least harvest the trees?”

“Because they’re brutes. Once a coal company gets the green light, it goes crazy. They’re after the coal, dammit, and nothing else matters. They destroy everything in their path—forests, timber, wildlife—and they run over anyone who gets in their way: landowners, local residents, regulators, politicians, and especially activists and environmentalists. It’s a war, with no middle ground.”

Samantha looked at the dense forest and shook her head in disbelief. She said, “It can’t be legal.”

“It’s legal because it’s not illegal. The legality of mountaintop removal has been litigated for years; it’s still in the courts. But nothing has stopped it.”

“Who owns this land?”

“Strayhorn does now, so we’re trespassing, and, believe me, they would love to catch me up here, three days before the trial. Don’t worry, though, we’re safe. For about a hundred years this land was owned by the Herman family. They sold out two years ago and built a mansion on a beach somewhere.” He pointed to his right and said, “There is an old family home just over that hill, about half a mile down the valley, been in the family for decades. It’s abandoned now, empty. It’ll take the bulldozers about two hours to level the house and outbuildings. There’s a small family cemetery under an old oak not far from the house, a little white picket fence around the graves. Very quaint. It’ll all be shoved down the valley—headstones, coffins, bones, whatever. Strayhorn doesn’t give a damn and the Hermans are rich enough to forget where they came from.”

She took another sip of water and tried to wiggle her toes. He reached into his backpack, removed two granola bars, and handed her one. “Thanks.”

“Does Mattie know you’re here?” he asked.

“I’m living under the assumption that Mattie, and Annette and Barb and probably even Claudelle, know just about every move I make. As you like to say, ‘It’s a small town.’ ”

“I’ve said nothing.”

“It’s Friday afternoon and things were slow around the office. I told Mattie you asked me if I wanted to go sightseeing. That’s all.”

“Good, then we went sightseeing. She doesn’t need to know where.”

“She thinks you should settle the lawsuit, to at least get something for the mother of the two boys.”

He smiled and took a large bite. Seconds passed, then a full minute, and Samantha realized that long gaps in conversation did not make him uncomfortable. Finally, he said, “I love my aunt, but she knows nothing about litigation. I left her little legal clinic because I wanted to do big things, take on big lawsuits, get big verdicts, make big coal companies pay for their sins. I’ve had big wins and big losses, and like a lot of trial lawyers I live on the edge. Up and down. Flush one year and broke the next. I’m sure you got a taste of that as a kid.”

“No, we were never broke, far from it. I was aware that my father sometimes lost, but there was always plenty of money. At least, until he lost it and went to prison.”

“What was that like, from your standpoint? You were a teenager, right?”

“Look, Donovan, you’re separated from your wife and you don’t want to talk about it. Fine. My father went to prison and I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s make a deal.”

“Fair enough. We should move on.”

They trekked upward, slower and slower as the trail disappeared and the terrain became even steeper. Pebbles and stones trickled behind them as they grabbed saplings to pull themselves up. At one point, as they stopped to catch a breath, Donovan suggested that Samantha take the lead so that he could catch her if she stumbled and slid backward. She did so, and he stayed close, with one hand on her hip, sort of guiding, soft of shoving. Finally they reached the summit of Dublin Mountain, and as they emerged from the forest into a small, rocky clearing, he said, “We have to be careful here. This is our hiding place. Just over those rocks is Enid Mountain where Strayhorn is hard at work. They have some security guys who occasionally pay attention to this area. We’ve been in litigation for over a year, and we’ve had a couple of nasty altercations.”

“Such as?”

He removed his backpack and leaned his rifle against a rock. “You’ve seen the photographs in my office. The first time we came here with a photographer they caught us and tried to press charges. I ran to the judge and got an order which allowed us access on a very limited basis. After that, the judge told us to stay off their property.”

“I haven’t seen any bears. Why the rifle?”