Memories Of Another Day Part 14

your nose buried in books all day and night will be an old maid."

And that was what she was. Thirty years old. Unmarried. No prospect in sight. An old maid. Just as her mother had predicted.

She took off her camisole, and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s seemed to fill the mirror. She stared at them in fascination. As she watched, the nipples seemed to grow larger and the b.r.e.a.s.t.s began to ache. She cupped them in her hands and held them tightly. It seemed to ease the hurt. She closed her eyes. They were his hands.

But they were not. It had been five years since he had touched her and then gone away. Her mother said that he had never intended to marry her. But never was too strong a word. He was just not the kind of man to get married. Responsibility frightened him. She had realized that when it was too late.

Still, she had never regretted knowing him and loving him. For the first time she'd been aware that she was a woman, and she had learned to take joy in her own femaleness. Her mother had said that she was a hussy, that all the neighbors were talking and that she could no longer hold up her head in the community. From that point on it had been just a question of time until she could get away. And after that it had been a different school in a different town almost every year. Not once in the five years had she ever gone home.

There had been other men. Brief, quick affairs, brought on by the desperate physical clawing deep inside her. But when her body was satisfied, a deep disgust replaced the longing. Each time she would promise herself that it would not happen again. But it did. And in the end, it had driven her from town to town, changing schools as she sensed the growing awareness of the townspeople. Especially the men. The way they looked at her, like hounds after a b.i.t.c.h in heat. There were no secrets in a small town.

It was seven months since she had come to this small mining town just outside of Grafton. When she saw the little house next to the school, she had known it would be different this time. Here she would be alone-not in the usual boardinghouse, subject to the temptations and the smells of men around her. Alone, she would have nothing to stir her longing. She would be content in her work. This time she would not let herself be frustrated by trying to get some knowledge into the heads of children who knew that they were there only until work was found for them in the mines or in the mills. Silently she accepted the fact that the boys would disappear by the time they were ten or eleven years old. The girls would stay a little longer, but they too would be gone by the time they were twelve, thirteen or fourteen. Still, there was never a shortage of children in the school. Good year or bad, it was the only crop that never failed.

That was why she had been surprised when she had looked up from her desk one day during lunch hour and seen him at the other end of the room. At first she had thought he might be the father of one of the children, coming to withdraw his child from the school to put him to work. He filled the doorway. He was big, almost six feet, wide-shouldered and deep-chested. A few locks from the ma.s.s of unruly black hair fell toward the thick eyebrows over the deep-set startlingly blue eyes. And the shaven blue-black beard outlined a wide mouth and strong chin. As he came into the cla.s.sroom, she knew that he was not as old as she had first thought.

"Miss Andrews?" His voice was deep but gentle.

"Yes?"

He took a few hesitant steps toward her. "Fm sorry to disturb you, ma'am. Fm Dan'l Boone Huggins."

She almost smiled, his awe of her was so visible. "You're not disturbing me, Mr. Huggins. What can I do for you?"

He didn't come any closer. "Fm the clerk in Mr. Smathers' office at the mine."

She nodded without speaking.

''I been workin' fer him fer about a year now, an' Vm beginnin' to re'lize jes' how stupid I am. I need more leamin'."

She stared at him in real surprise. This was the first time in all the years she had been teaching that anyone had ever admitted that to her. Book leamin', as they called it, was considered a waste of time. "Exactly what is it you would like to learn, Mr. Huggins?" she asked.

'*I don' know," he said. Then, after a moment, "Everything, I reckon/'

She smiled. "That's a pretty large order."

His face was serious. "There's so many things I don't know nothin' 'bout. Since I been workin' in the office I heered people talkin'. Politics, business, eeconomics. I don't know nothin' 'bout them things. I kin read 'n' write 'n' figger some, but there are words I don' know the meanin' of, an' when it comes to multiplyin' an' dividin' I git real mixed up."

"Have you had any schooling?"

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded. "Six years in a rural school. But it stopped when I was fourteen, an' that's all there was."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "Did you ever think of going to the library?"

"Yes, ma'am. But the nearest one is in Grafton, an' I work six days an' it's closed on Sunday."

She nodded. Grafton was almost sixteen miles away, so there would be no chance of his being able to get there during the week. "I don't know what I can do," she said.

"Anything you kin do, ma'am, I would truly appreciate," he said earnestly. "It's more'n what I kin do myself."

She thought for a moment. The children began drifting back into the cla.s.sroom. Lunchtime was over. They looked at Daniel, curiosity on their normally unexpressive faces. She looked up at him. "There is very little we can do now," she said. "Cla.s.s is starting again. Can you come back later?"

''I work until six, ma'am," he answered. "I kin be here right after."

She nodded. 'That will be all right, Mr. Huggins."

"Thank you kindly, ma'am."

She watched him close the door behind him, then turned back to the cla.s.s. The children's eyes swiveled from the doorway back to her. She heard a snicker from some of the larger children toward the back of the room. She rapped the pointer sharply on her desk. "You in the back," she snapped. "Open your books to page thirty, geography lesson number two."

It wasn't until the last of the children had left the cla.s.sroom after four o'clock that she thought about him again. She puzzled over what she could do for him. Perhaps the best thing would be to find out how much he had actually learned. At least, that would be a beginning. She went to the cupboard and took out a set of six-year final-examination papers and spread them on the desk in front of her.

That had been six months ago. Since then, much to her surprise and excitement, she had found that this big, quiet boy had a bright, inquisitive mind that soaked up knowledge as fertile ground soaked up rain. They spent three evenings a week and Sunday afternoons together. Daniel read voraciously and questioned endlessly. Finally she had written to her mother and asked her to send her college books. For the first time she had been filled with the pure joy of teaching. Somewhere in the back of her head she knew this was the way it should be.

Gratefiilly, he had offered to pay her for the lessons. She had refiised. She was glad to have something to do with her spare time. But he still wanted to do something. Finally she agreed that he could reciprocate by cutting a week's supply of cordwood for both the school and her little house every Sunday.

She had begun to look forward to Sunday mornings, when she would be awakened by the ringing sound of the axe in back of her house. There was something strangely rea.s.suring and comforting about it. A touch of home. An echo from her childhood when her older brother used to perform the same ch.o.r.e. Somehow she no longer felt strange here. No longer alone.

For her, the simple warm feeling had lasted throughout the winter and into the beginning ot spring. Then, one sunny morning, she had risen from her bed and gone to the window.

He had stripped to his waist. The sweat streaming down his body shone redly in the sunlight. The muscles rippled as the axe rose and fell. Transfixed, she watched the light tan cloth of his trousers darken with sweat across his b.u.t.tocks and around his crotch.

The sudden surge of heat and the rush of wetness to her groin took her by surprise. She felt her legs begin to give away under her, and she held on to the wm-dowsill to keep from slipping to the floor. Angrily she shook her head to clear it. This was not the way it was supposed to be. She closed her eyes tightly and kept them closed until she regained her self-control.

From that day on she was more consciously circ.u.mspect, more careful not to sit too close to him, more careful in her dress, more formal in her language. If he was aware of how or why she was acting the way she did, he gave no sign. Occasionally when her glance took him by surprise, his face would flush, but she attributed that to his normal shyness.

That was the way it had been last evening when she had looked across the kitchen table and caught him watching her. Immediately the redness had begun to creep up into his face.

''Daniel,'' she asked, without thinking, ''how old are you?'*

The flush grew deeper. He hesitated. "Eighteen, ma'am," he lied.

She was silent for a moment. "You look older." She lied too. "Fm twenty-five."

He nodded.

*'Don't you have any friends?" she asked.

*'Some," he answered.

"Girlfriends, I mean."

"No, ma'am."

"Not even back home? A special girl?"

He shook his head.

"What do you do in your time off? Don't you go to the socials and the Sat.u.r.day-night dances?"

"I was never much one fer dancin', ma'am."

"It doesn't seem right," she said. "You're young and handsome and-"

"Miss Andrews," he interrupted.

She stared at him in surprise. It was the first time he had ever done anything like that.

His face was scarlet. "I'm not one fer games neither. Girls is alius lookin' fer to git married, an' I'm not about to. I got family dependin' on me."

"I'm sorry," she apologized, accepting the rebuke. "I didn't mean to pry."

He rose from the chair. "It's late. Time fer me to go.

She rose with him. She reached over and closed the book he had left on the table. "We'll finish this lesson tomorrow night."

But it was now nine o'clock and he still hadn't appeared. Slowly she made ready for bed. The last thought she had before she turned out the light was that she had lost him. He would never come again.

The stocky foreman stopped and looked at him, his shock of white hair gleaming in the light of the gas lamp. "I been asked to make sure you were there."

''By who?"

''You'll find out," Andy said mysteriously. He began to walk again. "Besides, I think you're with us. I worked in the mines beside you, and once you work in the mines you never stop bein' a miner, no matter what else you do."

The rest of the walk to his home was made in silence. Shortly after they got there, the other men began to arrive. They glanced at Daniel but didn't say anything to him. Gradually Daniel drifted into the corner, where he leaned against the wall and smoked his cigar. There were more than a dozen men cl.u.s.tered together in small groups.

There was a sound of an approaching automobile. One of the men near the window looked out. He turned back to the room. "They're here!"

There was a general movement to the door. Andy opened it. Daniel could see the black Model T roll to a stop. The men spilled out onto the porch. Daniel didn't move.

A moment later Andy came into the house with a big, stocky man walking beside him. Daniel looked at the man with curiosity. He wasn't a tall man, but he looked big. Broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, with the beginning of a big belly, he had a shock of thick, unruly black hair that fell over bushy eyebrows and deep-set, penetrating blue eyes. He moved with an aura of importance and a.s.surance through the men who cl.u.s.tered around him, shaking hands firmly and looking each of the men directly in the eyes. His teeth were amazingly small behind his thick, fleshy lips. They came over to Daniel.

"This is Daniel," Andy said as if that explained everything. The man reached for Daniel's hand. "John L. Lewis, the executive vice president of the United Mine Workers."

Mr. Lewis' hand was soft but amazingly strong. He looked at Daniel. "You're Jimmy Simpson's brother-in-law," he said. "Jimmy told me a great deal about you."

Daniel kept the surprise out of his voice. "You know Jimmy?"

Mr. Lewis nodded. "And your sister, Molly Ann. A fine girl. Jimmy's doing a fine job for us up Fitchville way. Let's all hope that we make the same kind of progress down here."

Before Daniel could answer, he turned and made his way to the front of the room. He wasted no time. He held up a hand, and the men fell silent.

"First of all, I have to correct Andy's introduction," he said. "My good friend keeps introducing me as executive vice president of the union. I thank him for the promotion, but that job still belongs to Frank Hayes."

A chorus of voices interrupted him. "Not for long, John." "You're our man."

Lewis smiled. He held up a hand, and they were silent again. "That's for the ft.i.ture to decide. I have no ambitions; all I want now is to do a good job for you men. That's the reward I'm looking for. To see your jobs secure, your work made safe and your pay equal to the highest standards in the industry."

The men began to cheer. Lewis waited for their shouts to die down. After a moment, he began again. "As you know, the U.M.W. is already one of the largest unions in the country. As of the beginning of this year we have over a quarter of a million dues-paying members. That we are accepted by the government of the United States is evidenced by the fact that President Wilson appointed as the first Secretary of Labor one of our own U.M.W. leaders and founders, Mr. William B.Wallace."

Again the men cheered. This time Lewis overrode their cheers. "For the past year, I represented Sam Gompers as legislative a.s.sistant in Washington. This year I returned to my old U.M.W. local in Indianapolis to once more deyote myself to the people I love, the miners. Two months ago, after much consideration, we decided that it was time for the U.M.W. to move into the last remaining nonunion section of the country. The West Virginia-Kentucky mining sector. I won't go into the history of why we have not come here before. A number of times we have tried to unionize, but we have always been defeated. It was not your fault. You men wanted the union. But the owners' corruption and terror tactics proved too much for us, so in order to protect your lives and health, we backed away. I do not plan to argue now whether our decision was right or wrong. It was made eight years ago, and perhaps it was right then in order to prevent bloodshed. But since that time, conditions have not improved; instead they have worsened. Today, you miners in this area are getting less for your labor than you were then, you are more in debt and you are working longer hours under more dangerous and hazardous conditions. And now that the Detroit automobile companies have put together a consortium of the twenty biggest mines in this area, it don't look to get better. It looks to get worse."

The men were silent. Lewis glanced around the room. ''Now it is time for decision. A few months from now may be too late. Once the consortium takes control, it may be too late. By then you will truly be in their power. By then we might not be able to help you.

'To meet this emergency, the executive board of the U.M.W. has created a new district local for this area. It will be known as District 100. We are pledging five thousand dollars for immediate organizing expenses, and the first thing you men have to do is go out and sign up every one of your brothers into the union. If you can do this before the mines are officially taken over, we'll be in a good bargaining position. Already men are at work all over the district. Now is the time for each of you to demonstrate his solidarity with his brothers. Each of you here must become an organizer. Our success, your own success depends on your own individual efforts."

Now there were no cheers. The men were silent. They loojced at each other dubiously. It was one thing to join up; it was another to put themselves in the forefront of a battle which, if they lost it, would cost them their jobs and futures.

**Are you sure the mines are bein' taken over?" one ofthe men asked.

Lewis nodded. *'As sure as I'm standing here. We have information which leads us to believe that once it's done, the owners will launch the biggest campaign in history to bring down the union and further enslave the workers."

''We never had no trouble at this mine," another man said.

'Thirty-four men dead and over a hundred men permanently injured in the last two years in this mine and you say you don't have trouble? The worst safety record in the country, and all for the lowest pay scale in the industry, and you say you don't have trouble? If you don't consider that trouble, then I must say that you people don't know what trouble is. Is there a man among you who owns his own home, is there a man among you who does not owe his next month's wages to the stores for food and necessities, is there a man among you who if he should be injured and not able to work could continue to live in the house the company overcharges him for? Now to make it worse, when the mines are taken over you won't even get paid in United States dollars. They're gom' to turn back the clock an' pay you in company scrip. Then you'll see how much further into the hole the mining bosses will shove you. You'll be in so deep that you'll never get out, because the only way out will be the grave."

Lewis waited for a moment before he spoke again. "Your only hope is speed. To organize quickly before the bosses become aware of what you're doing. Next week may be too late. Tomorrow each of you men must go out and sign up every one of his brother workers before word has a chance to get back. Because once it gets back, all h.e.l.l will break loose. Your only chance is for all of us to be together in the union."

Lewis opened the briefcase he had brought with hhn and took out a doc.u.ment. "I have here in my hand the articles of incorporation and the const.i.tution approved by the general council of U.M.W., organizing you in this mine as Local 77 of District 100. Andy Androjew-icz will be provisional president until you have a membership quota, at which time you will elect your own board and officers." He took out another sheaf of papers. "Here are membership applications. I expect every man in this room to sign one before he leaves and afterward to sign up every other miner he contacts. The executive board has waived application and membership fees for the first three months, which gives you a chance to benefit before you pay and will place no hardship on the members. You show us you want us here by signing up one hundred men and we'll send in an organizer from our own headquarters to help you. The rest is up to you. Support your brothers of the U.M.W. and your brothers will support you."

He gave the membership applications to Andy, who began to pa.s.s them out. He went through the room quickly, followed by his thirteen-year-old son, a worker in the breaker shed, who handed out pencils. Almost without a word the men began to fill out and sign the forms.

Daniel took the form that Andy gave him and looked at it. He didn't speak. Andy went to the front of the room and joined Mr. Lewis. He held up a hand. "If any of you men have any questions, Mr. Lewis will answer them."

Daniel was the only one who held up his hand. Mr. Lewis nodded. "Yes, Daniel?"

"Fm a clerk in the mine superintendent's office. I don't work in the mines. I don't know if it's proper fer me to sign this."

Lewis looked at Andy. Andy nodded. The big man turned back to Daniel. "You work for the mine?"

"Yes, sir."

"I don't see any problem. The same things can happen to you that can happen to any of them. You need the same job protection as the rest."

"Mebbe that's true, Mr. Lewis. But I'm privy to many things that concern the miners. I don' see how I kin rightly do an honest job fer Mr. Smathers an' at the same time be a member of the union when doin' my job fer Mr. Smathers might be the contrary of what the union wants."

Lewis was silent for a moment. "You pose a delicate problem in ethics," he said. "I'm afraid you have to decide on the basis of your own conscience what is right."

Daniel looked up at him. "I agree with what you said about workin' in the mines, but the on'y way I see I kin join up is if'n I quit my job in the office. I cain't serve two masters an' be honest with both, an' I won't be a spy an' a carrytale. My paw alius tol' me that a man's honor is all he got between hisself an' his fellowman."

"What you're saying, then, is that you won't sign the application?"

"That's right, sir. I don't honestly feel I could."

A low, angry murmur swept through the room. A few of the men moved threateningly toward Daniel. Lewis stopped them by holding up a hand. "Daniel!" he said sharply. "I respect your honesty. If you leave this meeting, do I have your word that nothing that transpired here will be told to management?"

Daniel met his scowling gaze. "I already said that I was no carrytale and no spy. If they hear anything, it won't be from me."

Lewis looked around the room. "I, for one, am will- ing to take Daniel's word. I know his brother-in-law, Jimmy Simpson, up Fitchville way, who is now representing the textile workers there and is helping us to organize the mines. Jimmy says that Daniel is the straightest lad he ever met. I say we should permit Daniel to withdraw from this meeting and hope that the future will give us the opportunity to work and be together. Anybody second that?"