Chapter 3

The mayor said, "All right, Curt, we've said what needed saying. Mr. Johnson's a smart man. I trust he'll make the wise choice."

"Mr. Johnson, it's getting late. If there's nothing else, we won't take up any more of your time."

Mayor Doyle led Curtis out.

On his way out, Curtis let his eyes settle on me, and there was no mistaking the sneer and the threat in them, as if he'd finally gotten me right where he wanted.

Once they were gone, Eugene was furious. "Mr. Johnson, thank God we haven't invested yet. Putting money into a town like that would be like handing it straight to a pack of ingrates."

I said nothing. I dialed a number and pressed the speaker button. The call connected almost at once, and I skipped the pleasantries. "Mayor Barrett, this is Theodore Johnson. We'd like to come out and take a look at your town tomorrow. Would that be all right?"

An excited voice came through from the other end. "All right? It couldn't be more all right. But Mr. Johnson, cars can't get into our town. I'll come pick you up on a motorcycle tomorrow."

"Sure. Sorry to put you to the trouble."

Early the next morning we drove out toward Cottonwood Hollow, and at a spot under a locust tree the car could go no farther.

A lean, dark-skinned middle-aged man was waiting under the tree with two or three others.

Beside them sat a few battered old motorcycles.

The moment we got out of the car, the dark-skinned man hurried over. "Mr. Johnson, sorry to make you come all this way. Our town's poor, there's no road in, so we get by on motorcycles..."

"You must be Mayor Barrett?" I said.

"That's me, Mr. Johnson. With no road, the kids have to get up at five every morning and walk the mountain trails to school. The trip back and forth is so hard they don't eat enough. Some of them bring nothing but two roasted potatoes to school for the whole day..." As he spoke, the rims of his eyes reddened and he couldn't stop it.

"I saw that video about Brightvale. We're willing to sign the land over to you. We don't want you just handing us cash."

Mayor Barrett spoke with real feeling, gripping my hand and holding on for a long time.

"I understand. Let's head into town first and see the details for ourselves."

"Good."

We got on the motorcycles, and Mayor Barrett cautioned them, "Ride slow, you hear me? Don't rattle Mr. Johnson and his people to pieces."

"I know."

Even with that warning, the mountain road into Cottonwood Hollow was truly brutal. From here to the town was another seven or eight miles at least.

And it was all rough, uneven gravel, terrible to travel on.

I felt like the ride was going to shake my bones apart.

Once we reached the town, what I saw shook me even more. Everyone lived in run-down, crumbling houses, and the townsfolk all wore patched clothes.

A small, thin girl stood in clothes that didn't fit her age, hanging on her like a robe.

"Come here..." I said to her.

She came toward me, timid.

"What's your name?"

"My name's Prudence Pope. Mister, are you here to invest in our town?"

I nodded.

Mayor Barrett came over. "Mr. Johnson, her parents passed early. She was raised by her grandmother. Their family has it rough. That's the house they live in."

I took Prudence's hand and walked toward the house. Inside it was pitch dark, the bulb burnt out, and the conditions were even worse. The bed they slept on was just two wooden boards pushed together.

"Prudence, if I invest in your town, what's the one thing you'd want most?"

"I want my grandma to not have to work so hard anymore."

I'd assumed she'd ask for a new set of clothes for herself, or a new bed. But no. The first thing she thought of was her grandmother.

Hearing that, I couldn't keep my own eyes from stinging.

I forced it down. "Mayor Barrett, show me around, let me get a look at the lay of the land. Eugene, make a record of the whole town's situation."

"Yes, sir!" Eugene answered.