by Alice White
Drew was finished eating his breakfast. Cleaning his hands with a napkin he quickly gave his mother a peck on her cheek and ran outside, carrying his satchel to the carriage waiting to take him to school. "Goodbye, Ma," he shouted, closing the door behind him. Bethany stood up and cleaned the dishes. Making her way over to James who sat on the carpet, she held her hand out to him and Alice who was sitting quietly by his side coloring a piece of parchment paper. "Mama don’t leave us at Mrs. Baileeeey's again." Anna cried, her brother nodding along beside her. "Take us with you, Ma."
Bethany sighed at their pleading looks and cupped their cheeks, and spoke to them in a stern tone: "It's only for a few hours. I will be back soon. Mama has work to do, my little honeybears." Smiling sadly at them, she nudged them forward and they walked ahead of her, their faces solemn. She left out the front door and made her way down the steps along a narrow path to her neighbor's house. Mrs. Bailey was already waiting for Bethany to bring Alice and James. Bethany greeted Mrs. Bailey and then let her take them into her house. Alice and James kept turning back to look at their Mama, hoping she would take them back home. Bethany's eyes were filled with unshed tears and she quickly turned away.
Crossing the street she walked down the familiar path to the garment factory, her mind wandering to her biggest problem. The factory would not give her even a penny more than her normal wage. She could try to sell some of her belongings, but that would take time and effort. Her pride had stopped her from begging for money from her friends at work. Denise could help her but she was happily married, living on the other side of the country. Everything seemed like a dead end. Rubbing her hand across her face, she sighed loudly then suddenly remembered something her coworker had said. A loan, she thought, that would help her out of this mess. Turning a corner, she finally came to a stop in front of the factory, her mind starting to worry about what she was about to do.
Removing her bonnet, Bethany strode past the weaving section and into the stitching area. Nodding politely at her co-workers, she approached her work table and quietly sat down, trying to look apathetic. A tense expression would only lead to people asking questions she didn’t want to answer.
“How are you today, Beth dear?”
Bethany glanced at Cassie who was seated next to her, her lips forming a forced smile. “I’m better. There’s nothing that good old onion soup can’t fix.”
Cassie unfolded the fabric in front of her, placing it under the needle bar. Adjusting the lever with her left hand, she said, “Good to know. I didn’t think you would come today, especially after you almost threw up on me after lunch yesterday.”
Bending down to pick up the assigned materials, Bethany chuckled. “It’s not my fault the gravy they served us yesterday made me want to throw up. Even if I hadn’t been sick I wouldn’t have gotten it past my throat.”
Cassie laughed. “True. That is exactly why I’ve told you to bring your own lunch, Beth.”
“I don’t really have the time to make something for myself in the mornings. Making sure the kids get to eat their meals on time keeps me busy.” It was a half-truth. The real problem was her empty pantry.
Giving her a sympathizing look, Cassie said, “We could always share.”
“That’s very kind of you Cass, but I’d rather not. My shift ends sooner than yours. You need to keep up your strength. I know how tiring this work can get.” Putting a thread through the eye of the needle, Bethany pushed down the needle clamp and began to sew.
Over the sound of the sewing machine, she heard Cassie shout, “Fine! Suit yourself.”
It was noon by the time they took their first break. Everyone headed off to the common room to have lunch. Bethany’s shift would end in an hour. Letting Cassie know she wouldn’t be eating anything today, she darted for the inspection department of the factory, hoping to catch Isabelle before she left. Isabelle was known as the eyes and ears of this place. She knew everything that went on around the factory, or so she claimed. Gathering up the hem of her skirt, Bethany climbed the stairs to the floor above. Upon reaching the top, she paused and stepped aside to let the workers walk past her, down the stairs to the common room. Scanning the area, she spotted Isabelle, a petite woman who looked only a little older than her. Bethany knew what Isabelle looked like but Isabelle had no idea who Bethany was. Catching up to where she stood, Bethany tapped her lightly on the shoulder. Isabelle turned around. Discerning the anxious look on Bethany’s face, she excused herself from the woman beside her who left them alone to speak.
“You look troubled. Can I help you?”
“Yes. I’ve heard rumors about this place. I don’t usually pay any attention to them but there is one that might just be of use to me. I think you probably know more about it than I do, and whether there’s any truth to it.”
Isabelle took her hand and led her to a corner in the passageway outside the inspection area. To make sure they couldn’t be heard, she lowered her voice and said, “I know many things. What would you like to ask me?”
“Well, I’ve heard that Mr. Fitch helps the workers here borrow some money if they need it, like a loan. Is that true?”
Isabelle gazed at her obligingly and said, “It is. But Mr. Fitch is only the middleman. He too works for Richie like the rest of us. And we all know how Richie operates.”
“Yes, but how can you know for sure it’s not just hearsay? How do you know he actually gives loans?”
“Oh honey, I know. I’ve been one of the borrowers!” Isabelle exclaimed.
Bethany was momentarily surprised. She knew that Isabelle was telling the truth. Feeling somewhat relieved to know she would not be stepping into unchartered waters, she opened her mouth to thank Isabelle but Isabelle cut in, her voice filled with concern. “Let me tell you this. Richie is not by any means a kind person. He thinks by letting us borrow his money he can make a profit on it later. I was told to return the amount I borrowed within two months or else I would have to pay him back along with a fine! Do you believe the nerve of that man? He doesn’t do this out of the goodness of his heart. He’s a racketeer. The worst kind there is. God knows what other awful things he does. Just be careful. Mr. Fitch will give you the money if your meeting with Richie goes well. But remember, you’ll have to return it somehow before the deadline if you don’t want to become flat broke.”
With her lips pursed, Bethany pondered over her words. Feeling a little skeptical, she chose not to make a decision right away. Looking over at Isabelle, she reckoned she ought to thank her properly.
“I’m grateful for the information and your insight. I will take heed of it.”
Isabelle nodded at her and replied, “I hope everything works out for you,” then added as her eyes landed on the small cross hanging from the chain around Bethany’s neck, “Don’t lose faith even during the toughest of times. God works in mysterious ways.” Smiling at her, she walked away. Just as she reached the stairs, she half-turned and asked, “You didn’t tell me your name.”
“I’m Bethany.”
“Well Bethany, I’m Isabelle but you already knew my name. I just want you to know that I’m here for you if you ever need to talk.”
Bethany gave her a small smile, feeling akin to her and replied, “Thank you.” Isabelle acknowledged her thanks with a smile then turned back to head down the stairs.
Watching her go, Bethany walked over to the huge windows along the passage. Her indecision seemed to be making her fidgety. Looking out the window to the busy streets, she thought about Drew, Alice and James. She had not been able to fulfill their needs properly ever since she had taken this job. The money she earned was not enough for her and her family. She had managed to get by for the first few months after David’s death. He had left her some money, which eventually ran out, of course, prompting her to look for work. Lately, it had become difficult to save money from her earnings, which weren’t a lot. She had only a couple of coins left to spend, and they wouldn’t be of any use to her. Thinking of her kids she conclude
d that starving for the rest of the month was not an option. She had to take the money from Richie to get by. It is the only way, she told herself.
Chapter 2
“Mrs. Williams, if you would just wait outside please.”
“Please, call me Bethany.”
“Well, Bethany,” he said, arching an eyebrow. “Mr. Fitch here will talk you through the process for now. I’ll be asking you a few questions after that. I have a client inside my office at the moment so you’ll have to wait. It won’t take long.”
With that, he walked back inside and shut the door to his room a little too loudly.
Bethany tried to read him but couldn’t quite figure him out. Her first impression of Richie wasn’t too bad. He looked intimidating but sounded polite. Knowing first impressions should not be a basis for judging someone, she went to where Mr. Fitch was seated. His table was set just outside Richie’s office. Standing up he gestured Bethany to sit down across from him. She had seen him a couple of times roaming about the factory since she had started working here. It was his job to report the factory’s progress to Richie.
“I presume you have something to say. Is this in regards to a loan?”
“Yes, indeed. Can you tell me exactly how long until I have to return it?”
“Not more than two months I’m afraid.”
“Oh. And are there any special conditions? What if for some reason it takes me longer than that to get it back to you? What then?” she asked cautiously.
Clearing his throat, he looked at Bethany through his spectacles. “This isn’t exactly a charitable organization, ma’am. We make money by selling clothes. However, Mr. Richard has allowed the employee loan benefit to those of you who have money issues. Just as a bank would give a loan and set a due date after which you have to pay the fine, we’re following more or less the same approach. The only difference is we give you double the amount of time that a bank would. Our terms are quite practical if you think about it.”
What he was saying seemed sensible enough, she thought. Isabelle had laid it on thick, her warnings seeming a bit unnecessary. Perhaps she was judging these people too harshly.
“How much is the fine?”
“I’m sure we won’t come to that.” said Mr. Fitch. Taking pity at her worried expression, he told her, “It’s not too much. Just a small amount is added to the amount due.”
“I see. Can I go see Mr. Richie now?”
“You’ll have to wait. His client will be out shortly.”
Bethany sat with her hands in her lap, considering the situation she was getting herself into. It wasn’t by any means wrong. They were following a set of rules so that no one would just take their money and leave for good. If it meant they would profit after the deadline then so be it. At least she’d have enough to survive the two months. Drew would be done with his school session in a month; summer was coming up. Maybe she could make some embroidered accessories and sell them in the market to pay back the loan. She would so anything to keep them from adding a fee.
The door to Richie’s office opened as he walked his client out. Leaving each other with some parting words, they shook each other’s hands and then Richie sauntered over to her. He looked impeccable in his waistcoat and tights as he came to a stop and held out a hand to her.
Bethany hesitated a little before putting her hand in his. He brought it to his lips and gave it a sloppy kiss. He seemed like trouble. Bethany noticed various scars on his neck and face, his eyes looking bloodshot. He pulled her up from her seat then let go of her hand. “Come on in, Bethany.”
He followed her inside. Bethany jumped a little at the sound of the door closing loudly behind her. Settling into a seat in front of his big mahogany desk, she glanced at him. He was pulling out a cigar from a box on his table. Lighting it up, he took a long drag and watched her. Bethany could feel his eyes on her as she looked at her hands in her lap, trying to make as little eye contact as possible. She felt uncomfortable in his presence.
“So, you need a loan, huh?”
“Um yes, I do.”
Taking another drag, he asked hoarsely, “Why should I give you my money? Tell me why you need it.”
“I’m a widow, sir. My husband died last year, leaving us behind. I have three young children who have needs, which I’m afraid I won’t be able to fulfill any longer unless I get some money.”
Richie looked down at her then asked, “Can you not get by on your monthly wages?”
“Not really,” she said sheepishly. “I only work the morning shift because I have to take care of my children as well.”
“That’s quite a situation,” he said. Lowering his cigar, he took out a typed form and handed it over to Bethany. She read it carefully.
“It’s an undertaking, but if you agree to the terms and sign at the bottom, you will get your money.”
Making sure there were no other odd terms except the ones that Mr. Fitch had just told her, she grabbed the quill in front of her and signed at the bottom.
“Give it to Fitch. He’ll hand you the amount you need.” Eyeing her a last time, he dismissed her. “Good day.”
Turning around, she walked out of his office to Mr. Fitch, feeling a huge weight lifted off her shoulder.
Chapter 3
French Prairie, Willamette Valley, Oregon
The lands were being claimed by the immigrants pouring into Oregon from the Eastern part of the country. Matthew was one of these immigrants, having arrived about a couple months ago from Nebraska via the Oregon Trail. His family owned a ranch there and had sent him out here to claim any piece of land he could. Oregon’s provisional regime was giving land to unmarried and married settlers arriving in the West free of cost.
Matthew had a knack for running farms. Having followed in his father’s footsteps of becoming a ranch owner, he knew the expansion of their farming business would surely be fruitful. His father was delighted at the opportunity that had presented itself right when they needed it. Not wanting to miss it, Matthew’s father devised a plan to set up another farm on the land Matthew would claim upon his arrival in Oregon. It meant more crops and more livestock to sell. His older brother was a trader in Nebraska, selling goods and livestock from their farm. Matthew overlooked the ranch while his brother dealt with the traders. He was reluctant to leave at first, not wanting to abandon the farm, but his father agreed to take charge of it in his absence, even in his old age.
It had not taken him long to claim the land he wanted in Oregon. It was quite peaceful here, the land much greener and more fertile. It was a good place for farming. Matthew had brought with him a couple hundred dollars and an errand boy, Leroy, from home. He had hired a few laborers to work in the fields. The land he had claimed had grass seed already growing out front. With the help of his workers he had planted the parsnips and sweet potatoes on the back side of the farm. There was still plenty of land left to plant more crops and orchards. He had not decided what else to grow yet. There was a small house on the far-left of the land where Matthew was staying and a stable where he kept the horses. It was an old building that needed some renovation. Matthew had not considered renovating it as soon as he had arrived. He wanted to save his money for the crops and the horses which he needed to buy.
Two months later, he still had not purchased any furniture. He had no interest in surrounding himself in luxury. He was quite content to sleep on a rug for the time being. Until his business here started to run as well as he hoped, he wouldn’t waste a single penny he had brought along with him.
One Sunday morning, he woke up to the sounds of horses pulling up in front of his house. He wasn’t expecting any company. Putting on his white cotton shirt he ambled his way out the front door, his eyes squinting at the blazing light from the sun. Two men riding on horseback stopped just as they spotted Matthew coming out.
Both looked older than him, probably in their 30’s. They looked quite alike, as if they were related. They climbed down their horses, holding the reins and han
ded them over to Fred, the stable guy. One of them had a pale face and dark wind-blown hair. The other looked slightly older with a small beard and the same dark hair, his face tanned. Giving Matthew a half smile, the younger one spoke,
“Good day sir. You must be Matthew Russell. I’m Chris Townsend. This is my older brother, Thomas. We’ve come here to talk business with you, if you would like to hear us out.”
Matthew glanced from Chris to Thomas, confused and surprised by their sudden arrival. They both seemed eager to discuss whatever they had in mind. He could tell it from their expressions.
“To what do I owe this arrival?”
This time Thomas replied, his voice a bit gruff compared to Chris’s friendly voice. “We heard you moved here some time back. We’re the middlemen. We buy the produce from the farms around here then sell it to the markets over in Portland and Salem.”
