“So when did you start wearing perfume and makeup, Maggie?” he said, then turned to walk out the door.

Allen clicked off the tape recorder.

“Get what you needed?” I asked.

“For sure.”

“What did you talk about before I got here?”

“Mainly how hard it had been getting Wild and Scenic status for the Tamassee, not just on a state and federal level but local as well. The number of times he’d been beaten up by loggers. The number of times his home and business got shot up.”

“Did Luke tell you he never reported what happened to him? Once he got beat up so bad he was in the hospital four days but wouldn’t give names when Sheriff Cantrell interviewed him.”

“He didn’t tell me that. Was he afraid to give names?”

“No. He was proving he couldn’t be intimidated. The loggers would never admit it, but they respect him for that, even if some of them hate his guts.”

One of the twins’ children shrieked as her drink spilled. Mama Tilson rushed over with a rag and cleaned up the mess. The child started crying and Randy lifted her into his lap, talking to her softly until she calmed down. He took a napkin and wiped the tears from her face.

“Luke really did do more than anybody else to get the river Wild and Scenic status. He wrote the majority of the letters and got the petitions signed and mailed. He got people to meetings and brought the major environmental organizations on board. The locals, not just the loggers but even folks on his side, underestimated him.”

“Why?”

“Because he’d only been living here a year. Most people didn’t take him seriously at first. They figured he’d get tired or scared or decide to move somewhere he could live above poverty level.”

“So Luke’s not a native. I thought he was.”

“No, he grew up in Florida. He’s been up here so long now most folks don’t know or have forgotten.”

I lifted the last of my apple cobbler into my mouth and set my spoon down. Randy walked over to the jukebox, his daughter held in the crook of one arm. He gave the child a quarter and let her drop it into the money slot. Dwight Yoakam’s high lonesome wail soon filled the room.

“Did you talk any about Africa?” I asked.

“I brought it up, but Luke said he’d come to talk about the Tamassee.”

I pushed the empty bowl to the center of the table. The walk into and out of the gorge had sharpened my appetite.

“So what else did Luke have to say?”

“A few things about you. I hadn’t realized what an environmental warrior you once were.”

“In all my tie-dyed glory.”

“He told me your mother died during your junior year. He told me what happened to your brother.”