Then Mr. Hoggart said something to one of the boys. The boy dropped his pole and trotted off out of sight around the corner of the building. The other boys stood there, leaning on the poles, and the boys leaning out the windows began to jeer even louder, until Mr. Hoggart shook a fist at them and cursed, and they shut up for a little.
We waited, and in a couple of minutes the boy came back into sight, carrying an ax. He went over to the waterwheel, and began to hack at the ice. The main trouble was the ice that was frozen between the wheel and the wall of the spillway it turned in. If they could clear the ice out from there, and from the same place on the other side of the wheel, up against the mill, the wheel would move again.
The boys went on hacking. The ice was spraying up into the sunlight, sparkling yellow as gold. It was a pretty sight. We girls went on leaning out the windows, watching. They’d get the wheel moving in time, but in the meanwhile we could enjoy our holiday.
After a while the boy with the ax got tired, and another one took his place. Mr. Hoggart said something to the boy who had just quit. Off he went out of sight around the corner of the building. In about two minutes he was back. Coming along behind him was Robert. He was having a lot of trouble keeping his footing on the ice around the spillway.
Mr. Hoggart picked up one of the poles and jammed it down between the wheel and the wall of the spillway. It went pretty far down, which meant that they’d got that side of the wheel pretty well cleared. Mr. Hoggart stood back, the boy went to work again with the ax, and in a moment that side of the wheel was free.
Now Mr. Hoggart turned to Robert and said something. Robert took the ax and limped to the wheel. But he did not lean down and start hacking at the ice. Instead, he began to climb up on the wheel, holding onto the icy struts with one hand, carrying the ax with the other. It was going to be his job to hack the ice out from between the wheel and the other side of the spillway.
The problem was that to do that he’d have to work from on top of the waterwheel itself. The wheel was right up against the side of the mill. There wasn’t any place to get at the ice, except from up on the wheel.
Now he was lying on top of the wheel, facedown. He began swinging the ax into the space between the wheel and the mill wall. Suddenly my back went all chill and my heart began to race. For I saw what it was all about. Once Robert had chopped a certain amount of ice out, the pressure of the water would suddenly break the wheel free. There was no telling in advance when that moment would come. The wheel would suddenly begin to turn, and where would Robert be then? If he had two good feet, he could quickly stand and make a jump for it. But with that bad foot Robert wasn’t much for standing quickly, much less jumping. One little slip and he’d be gone over the wheel into the spillway, with that wheel turning on top of him.
I grabbed up my coat and raced out of the slubbing room, down the long flight of stairs and around the back of the mill, where Mr. Hoggart couldn’t see me. I ran on, slipping and sliding down the mill road, until I got to the village road. Here the footing was better. I went on running, my feet twisting and turning in the ruts, until I got to the Browns’. I banged on the door, and then waited. In a minute the door swung open, and there was Mrs. Brown. “Annie—”
“Mr. Brown’s got to come right away,” I shouted. “Mr. Hoggart’s put Robert on top of the waterwheel to chop out the ice. He’s trying to kill Robert. He’s bound to be flung into the spillway when the wheel breaks free. He can’t jump like the rest.”
“Lord, is this true, Annie?” She turned away from the door, and in a minute Mr. Brown, was there.
“What’s this, Annie?”
“He’s trying to kill Robert. I know he is.” I stood there, my heart pounding.
Mr. Brown stood there for a minute, thinking. Then he said, “It doesn’t sound right putting a boy with that lame foot up on the wheel. I’d better go have a look.”
“Please, sir, hurry.”
He grabbed his coat, and began to run out of the house, putting his coat on as he went. I came running on behind him, but he was going a good deal faster than I could go. He reached the mill road when I was still a good piece away. I saw him turn up the mill road, stagger on a patch of ice, straighten up, and go on up the road. In a minute he disappeared around the side of the mill. I went on running. I turned into the mill road and began to work my way up it as quick as I could. I reached the mill, and started for the side when Mr. Brown suddenly appeared.
He stood in front of me, barring my way. I stopped. Then he put his arm around my shoulder and gently turned me around. “Better not go back there, Annie,” he said. “You don’t want to see it.”
I screamed, broke away from him, and dashed around the corner toward the waterwheel. Two boys were coming toward me, carrying something heavy. I screamed again, and then they came by me.
Robert’s body was soaked in water, and already the ice was forming on his face, his eyes, his clothes. His nose was squashed down and one eye was just a pool of blood. His other pale blue eye was open and just stared out. His clothes were torn, and his body was limp as an empty sack, for most of his bones had been broken by the wheel. The one thing I never forgot was his foot. It was bare, and twisted all the way around so that it was pointed backward. I screamed, and then Mr. Brown picked me up and carried me away.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THERE WAS PLENTY OF TALK in the village about it. A lot of people said that Mr. Hoggart was in the wrong of it, and thought he ought to be dismissed before he hurt somebody else. A lot of other people said he wasn’t to blame; it was an accident. The boys had all been taking turns and it was just Robert’s hard luck that he was the one on the wheel when it started to move. Besides, it wasn’t Mr. Hoggart’s fault that Robert hadn’t been able to jump off quick enough.
Robert’s pa went to the justice of the peace and talked about bringing charges against Mr. Hoggart. The justice of the peace told him there wasn’t anything to be done about it. It was an accident. There were always accidents in mills, everybody knew that; and if you went to work in a mill you had to watch out for yourself. Just as there were always accidents on farms too. If Robert hadn’t got his foot hurt in a farm accident, he wouldn’t have been in the mill in the first place.
Pa and Ma felt just dreadful about it. They were good friends of the Bronsons, and it hurt them something awful to see how stricken the Bronsons were. “Poor Robert,” Pa said. “He never had a bit of luck. First his foot, and now this.”
“It wasn’t any accident, Pa,” I cried. “Mr. Hoggart did it on purpose.”
“Now, Annie. I know how you felt about Robert, but we can’t blame Mr. Hoggart for this.”
Even Ma agreed. “I don’t like Mr. Hoggart, and I don’t trust him, Annie. But I can’t believe he’d do this to Robert deliberately.”
The tears began to leak out of my eyes. “He did. Yes, he did.”
Ma put her arms around me. “Poor Annie. It’s been hard for you.”
“It’s God’s will,” Pa said. “There’s always death in life, and the dead must bury the dead. In time, we’ll be reconciled to it.”
But then George spoke up. “I believe Annie,” he said quietly. “I believe Hoggart did it on purpose.
We all looked at him. “What makes you think that, George?” Ma said.
He didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he said, “I just have a feeling about it. I don’t like the man. I never did. Since this happened I met a man from where Hoggart worked before he came here. The rumor’s true—Hoggart lost his position there because he was pestering the girls.”
Pa stared at George. “Who told you that?”
“One of the men who works at the Derby sawmill. He says everybody knows it.”
“Rumors,” Pa said. “Just rumors.”
“I don’t think so,” George said. “Pa, if it was me, I’d take Annie out of the mill.”
“George, it’s your father’s business,” Ma said.
“That may be so,” George said.
“But if it was me, I wouldn’t have her in the mill.” He stood up. “I’m going to see to the ox.” He didn’t say anything more, but went out through the back door, and into the night. I sat there for a minute, wiping my eyes, and trying to get a hold on myself. Then I stood up. “I’ll go collect the eggs.” And I went out after George.
He was pouring a bucket of water in the ox’s trough. “George,” I said. “Why did you say that?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know why I bothered. There’s nothing Pa can do. He’s near ruined with debt, and he’s depending on your wages to keep him going. I think down inside he knows he ought to take you out of the mill. But he can’t allow himself to believe that, for he’ll be in serious trouble if he lets you stay home.”
“Why can’t he just give that blame clock back?”
George shrugged. “That’s Pa’s stubbornness. If he gives the clock back it’s like admitting he failed. He can’t admit that, even to himself.”
I looked at George. “What am I going to do?”
“If it happens again, don’t bother Pa about it. You tell me.” It made me feel better to hear him say that. But nothing could make me feel much better, because of Robert.
******
The worst of it was to go on working at the mill. Robert’s burial was that Sunday, and Pa let me stay home until then. But on the next Monday I had to go back to the mill. Pa had signed the contract. I didn’t have any choice. But it had less than three months to go. I had to get through that.
It was just dreadful. I had to stand there all day long, with that waterwheel turning around and around below me, trying not to think of Robert being caught under it and his bones all smashed. I hoped it hadn’t hurt him much. I hoped it had killed him quick, before it started to break up his bones. Those first days back at the mill I thought a lot about jumping out the window on top of the water-wheel myself.
After a few days I knew I couldn’t go on like that. I just couldn’t stand the pain. I knew I had to put Robert out of my mind, or die myself. The trouble was that I had too much time to think. So, when I was standing at my slubbing billy or walking back and forth to the mill, I tried to go over the eight-times table in my head, or work out what countries were next to France. Finally, after another week or so, there came times when I wouldn’t think about Robert for a whole hour at a stretch. But then something would happen that would remind me of him—I’d hear somebody use an expression he liked, or a song he used to sing, and it would all come up again. Of course, I had to walk past his house every morning and every night; and there was always that awful waterwheel.
The one good thing that came out of it was that Mr. Hoggart stayed away from me. He knew that there was talk against him in the village, and he didn’t want to add to it. But I figured he still had a grudge against me, and when he thought the talk over Robert had died down, he’d try to get even.
Just to look at Mr. Hoggart, knowing that he’d killed Robert, made me feel sick and tremble. Oh, I hated him, I hated that waterwheel, I hated that mill. I had to get out of there. I’d stick it out until spring; I figured I could get through that. Then if Pa signed me on again—well, I didn’t know what I’d do. I’d run away. I’d go down to New Haven, or New York, or even out west. But I wasn’t going to stay in that mill. I’d kill myself first. I’d jump down on that waterwheel and let it grind me up the way it ground up Robert.
Running away wouldn’t be easy, not for a girl anyway. Even grown women didn’t travel on their own unless they were obliged to for some particular reason, and then they’d go by coach. Nobody thought twice of seeing a strange boy walking along a road, for they’d figure he was carrying a message or was sent by his pa or his master to fetch something. But anyone who saw a strange girl going along by herself would think it was dreadful odd, and would get to asking a lot of questions.
I’d have to dress up like a boy. I’d heard stories about women doing that. There was one. woman who became a sailor and went to sea for years until her ship was wrecked off Montauk, and when her body drifted in and they went to bury it, they found out she was a woman. I’d heard a lot of stories like that, so I knew that I could probably disguise myself as a boy all right. But where would I get boys’ clothes? Oh, there would be a lot of problems to it. The truth is, I didn’t want to run away. I was sure to be homesick in a strange place among strangers. I’d miss Ma something awful, and Pa, too, when you got down to it. I’d miss our house and our fields and even that blame merino ram. Oh, I wasn’t going to run away if there was a way around it. But if I had to stay in the mill, I would.
Visiting the Browns’ helped to take my mind off Robert. Hetty knew how I was feeling and chattered away about her bonnet and how many different colors of ribbon you could buy at the store, and such things. Talking to her cheered me up a little, and I went by there pretty frequently, and sometimes, if the weather was bad, I’d stay for the night. For a change Pa didn’t bother me about being late getting home sometimes. He knew how I was feeling.
******
So the weeks went by, and the end of my contract came closer. I kept counting the days, and visiting Hetty from time to time. One night I was coming home after seeing her, watching the moon rise over the snowy fields, making the evening near as bright as day, feeling sad and lonely and wishing time would speed up so I could get out of the mill.
I came to our farm lane, and turned in; and as I did I saw up ahead a creature so strange I came to a dead stop. It was bumping along slow in the bright moonlight, looking like a bear with horns, or a calf up on its hind legs. I shivered, and started to run; and the creature stopped, and sort of shifted around, and I saw that it was not an animal, but a human—a man carrying something on his back. He stood still a minute to shift his load, and I came up closer. I could make out a man with a saddle slung across his shoulders, and on top of the saddle were hung a pot and a long-handled skillet and some other things I couldn’t make out. But as I came up right next to him, I saw it was Pa, and I knew right away what he’d done. He’d bought the saddle. And I knew the only way he could have bought it was to sign me on at the mill for another six months.
“Pa, you didn’t. Pa, you wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Annie, I don’t want to hear anything about it. It’s done. Besides, I think you’ve got Mr. Hoggart all wrong. He told me you were a good worker and he wants to keep you on. He said that if you were obedient and did what you were told, he might improve your position in time. Instead of working at the slubbing billy, he’d put you in charge of filling the lamps, cleaning them when they needed it, lighting them when it got dark. He said it was a much easier job, all the girls wanted it, but he’d give it to you if you behaved well.”
“Pa,” I cried. “Don’t you see what he means by that?”
“Now, Annie, you’ve let your imagination run away with you. Perhaps there was an incident of some sort. I know that Mr. Hoggart has a weakness for drink, and I can allow that he said something he shouldn’t have when he was drinking. But you shouldn’t exaggerate.”
“Pa, I’m not exaggerating,” I shouted. “I’m not exaggerating.”
“Now, you listen to me, my girl,” he said, raising his voice. “I won’t have you shouting at me. I’ve made my decision about this, and it’s final. Everybody has a job to do in this world. Why should you think you’re an exception?”
I tried to keep my voice down. “I don’t mind working, Pa. But not in the mill. Not after what happened to Robert. I think about him all the time and it’s making me crazy.”
Pa looked off away from me. “Annie, nobody’s sure about that. It seems like Robert was just taking his turn along with the rest of them.”
“No,” I shouted. He reached back his hand to smack me. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to shout.”
He frowned at me. “Annie, since Robert died we’ve been mighty easy on you. Don’t start taking advantage of it.”
I didn’t say anything. Then I said, “How long is it
for?”
He couldn’t look at me. He turned his eyes down to the ground, and then so as not to show weakness looked off at the moon again. “Only another six months. After that, if you still don’t like it, I won’t make you stay in the mill anymore.”
Our eyes met. It was almost like he was begging me to forgive him. But I couldn’t. I hated him for what he’d done.
He turned, and with that saddle on his back and all those things in the saddle clanking like cowbells, he headed for the house. I stood there watching him go, hating him, hating Mr. Hoggart, hating the mill, hating Humphreysville. What was to become of me now? He’d go on signing me up at the mill year after year, using my wages to buy the things he had to have. Oh, I knew he couldn’t help himself; once he got his mind set on having something, he couldn’t rest until he’d got it. It wasn’t any use trying to stop him. Ma had found that out a long time ago. And so I was stuck. There wouldn’t be any way out, and I’d go on working at the mill for years and years, so desperate to get out I’d be willing to marry the first one who asked me.
And what was I getting for all my trouble? I’d come to be everybody’s toy, for them to play with as they liked: Pa’s toy and Mr. Hoggart’s toy, and Colonel Humphreys’ toy, when you got down to it. They all had something they wanted from me, and they were determined to get what they wanted. Me, I just didn’t come into it, any way I could see. They’d got their minds made up as to what I must do, and what I should be, and that was the end of it. Nobody cared what I wanted; that was clear as day. All they were interested in was what they wanted from me.
Oh, I hated them all. And standing there in the moonlight, I knew I was going to run away. They hadn’t given me any choice. But before I did, I was going to get the proof that Mr. Hoggart was stealing wool.
The Clock Page 8
