Fortune's rocks_ a novel - Anita Shreve [168]
“That would mean she entered the mill when she was . . . eight years old?”
“Yes, this is true.”
Sears struggles to his feet. “Your Honor, I do not understand the relevance of this line of questioning.”
“Mr. Tucker?”
“Your Honor, I wish to establish the cultural context in which this boy will be raised. I think these questions are quite relevant.”
“Very well, proceed.”
“And how about you, Mrs. Bolduc? When did you enter the mill?”
“I am going in at eight years, like my sister.”
“I see. And did you go to school?”
Sears, having just sat, is on his feet again. “Really, Your Honor, I do not think Mrs. Bolduc’s schooling or lack of it is at all relevant to her ability to properly mother a child.”
“Your Honor,” says Tucker, moving slightly toward Judge Littlefield. “Once again, I wish to establish the context in which the boy will be raised. I think this is highly relevant, for no man or woman can be a parent in a vacuum. A boy is not just raised by the parents, but is raised into a community. The court cannot make an adequate judgment about the custody of the child without a full understanding of the composition of this community.”
The judge ponders Tucker’s point and studies the tall young lawyer. A long silence ensues and even the spectators are quiet, awaiting a judgment from Littlefield. “Very well, Mr. Tucker,” he says finally. “Mr. Sears, you will, for the moment, allow Mr. Tucker to pursue this line of questioning without further interruptions.”
Tucker walks back to Albertine and moves so close to her that he could rest his arm on the witness box. “Mrs. Bolduc,” he asks, repeating his question. “Did you attend school?”
Albertine looks into her lap. “No,” she says. “I did not. My mother is not having the money for the school.”
“And this is because she would have sent you to a Catholic school, and Catholic schools cost money?”
“Yes. The school of Saint Andre.”
“Is that where you will send your foster son?”
“Oh yes.”
“And at this school, your foster son will speak French and have his lessons in French. Is that correct?”
Shouts of “La langue” and “Je me souviens!” erupt from the back of the courtroom. Littlefield bangs his gavel, visibly seething at this continued defiance of his orders. “Baliff, eject the persons who have just spoken out. And if I hear one more sound from any of the spectators, I will remove not only the speaker but this entire audience. Is this clear? Mrs. Bolduc, you may answer the question.”
Albertine, clutching her purse, blinks at Tucker. “Yes, is important to me,” she says. “We are all believing in la langue.”
“Tell me why this is so.”
“If we are giving up the français and speaking only the English, we are losing our life . . . our . . .” — she searches for the word — “‘La culture.’”
“I see. So you attend Saint Andre Church?”
“Oh yes.”
“How often do you go there?”
“Every Sunday.”
Olympia wonders why Tucker is asking Albertine these questions, for they seem designed to emphasize her fitness as a parent. Is not the practice of religion a point Olympia’s own lawyer might not want to bring up again?
“Mrs. Bolduc, what do you do in the mill?” Tucker asks.
“I am carding. I comb the cotton.”
“And you work how many hours a day?”
“I am working ten and a half hours.”
“And your pay is?”
“I am making more than three hundred dollars a year.”
Tucker smiles at Albertine. “Would it be correct to say that you have some pride in your work, Mrs. Bolduc?”
“Oh yes, I am having the pride. I am good worker and am supervising many other women.”
“In general, do you believe that a child should be taught the work ethic?”
She seems puzzled. “I am not understanding you.”
“Should a child be taught that work is a good thing?”
“But yes,” she says, confused. “Everyone must work.”
“Exactly,” says Tucker. “And what other values would you want to teach Pierre?”
“Honesty, yes? And kindness to others. Obedience, yes?”
“Of course. So let me be clear about this,” says Tucker. “You would hope that your foster son would be raised as a French speaker. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“You would hope that your foster