Memories Of Another Day Part 11

Smathers cleared his throat. "We found out that the day shift fired some shots to loosen up the coal without first checking the shoring. It was their fault. They shouldn't have been so d.a.m.n careless."

Andy met the superintendent's eye steadily. "d.a.m.n careless," he said.

Smathers relaxed. "That's what will go in the report these gentlemen will write."

Andy glanced at them, then back at Smathers. 'They ought to know," he said drily. **They're experts."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Smathers broke it. ''But the company is going to be generous. In spite of the fact that the accident was the fault of the men, we're goin' to give each of the miners' families a hundred dollars death compensation and six months' free rent at the company's houses."

Andy didn't speak.

Smathers got to his feet. "Now we have to get the mine back in operation. There's no money for any of us if we don't start bringin' out the coal."

"It'll take a month to clear out that West Tunnel again," Andy said.

"I know that." Smathers' voice was matter-of-fact. "We're not going to clear it. We're going to seal it off. We'll begin a new tunnel on the South Vein."

"But what about the men in there?" Andy asked.

"What men?" Smathers' voice was unemotional. "Their bodies, you mean? They're dead and buried already. We can't afford to risk more lives just to get them out and bury them over again."

Andy was silent. He looked at Daniel. Daniel could see the anger and despair in his foreman's eyes. After a moment he turned back to Smathers. "I guess you're right, Mr. Smathers."

Smathers smiled. "You can also tell your men that the company won't dock them for the time lost during the past two days, even if we didn't bring out any coal. The company looks out for its own people."

Andy nodded. "Yes, Mr. Smathers."

Smathers turned to Daniel. "How old are you, boy?"

"Sixteen," Daniel answered, remembering the lie on his application.

"Can you read and write?"

"Yes, sir. I got me six years o' rural school."

"Mr. Hatch will be leaving here today," Smathers %.

said. *'rd like you to come in here tomorrow an' be my clerk."

Daniel's surprise showed in his face. He looked at Andy, undecided. The foreman's hooded eyes lowered in a half-nod. Daniel turned back to Smathers. '"Yd be right grateful fer the chance, Mr. Smathers."

The afmosphere in the office relaxed. Even the two government engineers were smiling. This time, they shook hands all around.

Daniel looked at Andy as they walked back to the mine. The foreman seemed lost in thought. Finally he spoke. "Got a chaw?"

Daniel fished the plug of tobacco out of his pocket and handed it to him. Andy took a ma.s.sive bite from the plug, chewed a moment, then spat. *'Son of a b.i.t.c.h!" he exclauned.

''What do you mean?" Daniel asked.

"That Smathers is smart. He got ever'body off the hook. Even the company. An' he got us so tied in that there's nothin' we can say about it. An' even the families of those poor dead b.a.s.t.a.r.ds down there have got to be grateful to him."

* There's a picnic tomorrow at the Fairgrounds/' another girl said.

'The Holiness Church has a revival goin' on tomorrow," a third girl said. ''Heered they got a whole pas-sel of new copperheads and rattlers an' several of the Saints is already preparin' to partake of the Spirit."

Molly Ann smiled but didn't answer. In the six months she had been there, tjiere had been many changes. The slight traces of baby fat had gone from her face, giving her an oddly exotic look. The high cheekbones accentuated her country green eyes, and her full lips blended into a strong chin. Her body too had changed. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were fuller, her waist narrower, and her hips flared into long straight legs.

''Molly Ann never knows what she's goin' to do," the first girl said. "She's waitin' fer Jimmy to tell her."

"Go on," Molly Ann said, smUing.

"Yer sweet on 'im," the girl teased.

Again Molly Ann didn't answer. They were only children. What could they know about how she felt about Jimmy? Or for that matter, how he felt about her? All they knew was dances and good times Sat.u.r.day night and Sunday, then the long waiting until the next weekend.

She took up her place in the line in front of the paymaster's window. It moved rapidly, and soon it was her turn.

The old clerk peered through the window at her. "Evenin', Molly Ann," he said, pushing the voucher through the grilled window for her to sign.

"Evenin', Mr. Thatcher," she replied, signing the slip and giving it back to him.

He took the voucher, checked it, then went through a box of envelopes on the counter next to him until he found one with her name. He took it out and gave it to heir. "Better count it," he advised. "You have a big pay there with your overtime. You put in eighty hours last week."

She nodded and silently opened the envelope. The money tumbled out into her hand. Quickly she counted it. "Six dollars and forty cents," she said, looking at him.

'That's right." He nodded. ''Eight cents an hour. j. Now, you be careful with all that money. Don't spend it all in one place."

"I won't, Mr. Thatcher," she promised. She put the money back into the envelope and started toward the gates. The usual crowd of men and boys who waited for the giris to come from work were hned up along the street. Fathers waiting for daughters, husbands for wives, young men for their girlfriends. All with the same thought. Today was payday.

The chill evening air raced through her sweat-dampened cotton dress, making it cling closely to her figure. She shivered and pulled her shawl closer around her. She walked past the first row of young men. They called and whistled. She averted her face and quickened her steps.

One of them called after her. "What you doin' tonight, Molly Ann? I don' see Jimmy aroun'."

She didn't answer. She hadn't expected Jimmy to be waiting for her. He had gone up into the hills to collect some squeezin's and would not be back until later.

The sound of a girl crying made her turn around. She was just in time to see the man strike the child. He was a large man and already half drunk. The giri tumbled backward into the mud of the streets, staring up at the man with frightened eyes.

He stood there weaving, her yellow pay envelope clutched in his hand. "That'll teach you who yer pay belongs to!" he shouted. "I'm yer father an' you'll do as I tell you. Go an' tell yer mother I'll give her whatever I danged feel like."

After a moment, he turned and walked away unsteadily. The other men just stood there silently, not moving. Molly Ann walked back to the girl and helped her up.

The child seemed to be no more than eleven years old, and she was whimpering with fear. 'There, now," Molly Ann soothed. "It'll be all right."

*'No," the girl cried. *'My mother said she'd whup me if'n I didn' bring home the envelope."

''You jes' tell her what happened," Molly Ann said.

"It won't do no good," the child said. She began brushing the street mud from her dress. She looked up at Molly Ann, the tears still in her eyes. "I cain't wait till I'm growed up like you are. Then I kin do whatever I want with my money." She finished brushing at her dress. "Thank you kin'ly."

Molly Ann watched the child walk forlornly down the street. She took a deep breath. There were many things wrong in this town. What right did parents have to treat their own blood as if they were slaves? She thanked G.o.d for her own good parents.

A boy fell into step beside her. "Want to come to the dance with me tonight, Molly Ann?"

She looked up at him. He was tall, and his hair was slicked back in the latest fashion. She could smell the beer on his breath. She shook her head. "No."

He put his hand on her arm. "Come on, Molly Ann," he said. "Don't be so snooty. Jimmy's not the only man in town. You're a pretty girl. You should git out more an' have some fun."

Her voice was quiet. "You take yer hand off'n my arm or Jimmy 11 hear about it."

His hand dropped quickly. "You're a fool," he said, "You think you're the only girl Jimmy's got, but you're not. Jimmy's got more girls than anybody in town."

"You're a liar," she said. "Now go away."

He stopped, and she continued walking. "Wait, Molly Ann," he shouted after her. "You'll find out."

She reached the comer and turned down toward Main Street and Mr. Fitch's store.

'*This is a good town, Mr. Cahill/' Fitch's voice was filled with warm sincerity. '*Good people-simple, hardworking. G.o.d-fearing, honest. Plenty of labor available. Large families hereabouts. Nothin' atall to have eight or ten kids aroun' the house. Sooner or later they all have to git jobs. Kids are no trouble. They do their work an' don' ask fer much. It ain't like back East or up North. No unions down here. People don' want 'em, people don' need 'em. They're much too independent. Mountain people. They don' trust outsiders."

''But they do trust you?" Mr. Cahill asked.

Fitch laughed. "Why shouldn't they? I'm one of 'em. Bom and bred. My great-great-gran'pappy founded this town. Ever'body knows Sam Fitch is their friend.

"You kin take this message back to your a.s.sociates in Phillydelphia. Sam Fitch a.s.sures them if they bring another mill down here, they'll have all the labor they want at the price they want to pay an' that there'll be no city taxes in Fitchville fer at least twenty-five years."

"You make Fitchville sound like a mighty attractive place, Mr. Fitch." Mr. Cahill was smiling now.

"It is," Fitch said. "It is. You people have no complaints with the first mill. Build another an' it'll be even better."

"Same arrangement as with the first?" Cahill asked.

"Same arrangement. Sam Fitch ain't greedy. All he wants is to do good fer his town."

Mr. Cahill nodded. "Very well, Mr. Fitch. I'll discuss this with my colleagues and I'm sure they'll be very impressed. You can be sure that you have my support."

"Thank you, Mr. Cahill, thank you." Fitch rose behind his desk, his tremendous girth filling the small office. He squeezed around the desk and walked with Mr. Cahill through the store and out into the street.

They shook hands and Mr. Cahill climbed up into his carriage.

Fitch stood there as the carriage drove away, then turned and went back into the store. His face was thoughtful. A new mill meant another two hundred jobs at the very least. No matter how he looked at it, it meant a lot of money to him.

''Mr. Fitch." Her voice was soft.

He turned in surprise. He hadn't noticed her come into the store. He had been too occupied with Mr. Cahill. ''Why, Molly Ann."

"It's Satiddy night, Mr. Fitch," she said.

He recovered quickly. "So it is." A broad smile came to his face. "Come into my office."

He sat down heavily behind the desk and looked at her appraisingly. Molly Ann had turned into a fine figure of a woman. He felt his mouth watering as he mentally compared her with his wife. "How're you gittin' on, my dear?" he asked.

"Fine, thank you, Mr. Fitch," she answered. She opened her pay envelope and counted out three dollars. "I would like fer you to put that in my paw's account."

"Nothin' would give me greater pleasure," he said. He picked up the money and put it in a desk drawer. "How are your folks?"

"They're not much fer writin', Mr. Fitch," she said. "But I did see them last month an' they was all well. Paw's happy with his new mule. He figgers on at least four times the crops come plantin' time."

"They should be right proud of you an' your brother," Fitch said. "Mr. Smathers tells me Dan'l is the best clerk he ever had.''

Molly Ann nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Fitch."

He rose to his feet again. "You ought to come down here more often, Molly Ann. Not jes' once a week on Sat.u.r.day night fer business. You know I like to see you."

''You're a busy man, Mr. Fitch," she said. ''I don' like to be a bother to you."

He came around the desk and took her hand. ''A pretty girl like you, Molly Ann, is never a bother."

Awkwardly she withdrew her hand. She didn't know what to say.

''Do you know that man who jes' left here?" he asked suddenly.

She shook her head. "No."

"That's Mr. J. R. Cahill. He came here to talk to ol' Sam Fitch about buildin' another mill here. You know what that means?"

She shook her head again.

"It means that if n you treat me right, I km see to it you get a forelady's job in the new mill."

She smiled suddenly. Now she understood him. She looked up into his face. "That's right kin' of you, Mr. Fitch."

He took her hand again. "You're a right pert girl, Molly Ann. There's no need for you to be wastin' your time on no-counts like Jimmy Simpson when all you have to do is say the word an' you got a real friend."

"I 'predate that, Mr. Fitch. I really do." She smiled. "An' when the new mill opens, don' be surprised if'n I come knockin' at your door."

He looked at her for a long moment, then let go of her hand. "You do that," he said heavily. "You jes' do that."

She was at the door of his office. "Evenin', Mr. Fitch."

He nodded, his heavy-lidded eyes veiling his thoughts. "Evenin', Molly Ann." He kept staring at the door long after she had gone. He picked up a cheroot and chewed on it. After a moment he lit it. Young girls were so stupid. He sucked in a deep lungfiil of the heavy gray smoke, then blew it out slowly. He watched the smoke drift idly toward the ceiling. Ah, well, it really didn't matter. Sooner or later he would get her. He was a very patient man.

She sat in the portable iron bathtub in the middle of the kitchen floor. Her landlady took a big kettle from the hot coal stove and came toward her. '*More hot water?"

Molly Ann nodded. "Yes, thank you, Miz Wagner." She inched forward so that the water could spill behind her without scalding her. The clouds of steam came up around her face. After a moment she leaned back, her eyes closed. She could feel the aching weariness of the long day at the machine seeping out of her. ''Miz Wagner," she said.

''Yes, Molly Ann?"

"Is bathtubs like this very expensive?"