by Lois Lenski
Then they went to the clothing department. Mama looked at a warm coat for Tina, but when she heard the price, she shook her head. Jeff was the only one who got what he needed, a warm plaid jacket. Mama said Tina’s and Ronnie’s old coats would do for another winter.
“I want new shoes,” said Ronnie. “My soles are all worn out.”
But Mama closed her purse. “No shoes today,” she said. “We’ll wait till the next half for shoes.” Mama picked out her groceries and they all went home.
One day when Tina got home from school, Daddy was already there, sitting in the porch swing with his feet up on the railing. Tina sat down beside him and told him all about her nice teacher, Miss Sanford. Soon they heard a whining noise. The door was open and they could hear Mama and Celia talking inside.
“Is that the baby crying?” asked Mama.
“No,” said Celia, “she’s sound asleep. She hasn’t stirred since I put her down.”
“It’s that dog whining then,” said Mama. “Where’s Queenie? Under the house?”
“Sounds like it,” said Celia.
Mama sent Tina out to quiet the dog. But when Tina returned, the dog howled again.
“It worries me,” said Mama. “Everytime Queenie howls, somebody gets sick or hurt.”
“Don’t you go to borrowing trouble,” called Daddy from the porch. “Here I am safe and sound. You’ve got no call to worry.”
Tina put her arm around Daddy’s shoulder. She hoped nothing would happen to him.
“Remember last year when you lost those two fingers?” said Mama. “Queenie howled then too, so I knew something was wrong.”
When Jeff came in, Mama told him to look the dog over, to see if she was hurt in any way.
“Nothing wrong with Queenie,” said Jeff, “unless she’s got the stomachache.”
Even Mama laughed.
“Dogs don’t get stomachache,” said Tina.
“I bet they do if they’ve been poisoned,” said Jeff.
“Don’t be foolish!” called Daddy. “Queenie hasn’t had poison.”
“Maybe it’s Jack then,” said Mama.
“Jack doesn’t get stomachache either,” said Daddy. They all laughed.
Mama came to the door. “Walter, do you think something’s happened to Jack?” she asked seriously.
“Don’t be silly, Mary Kate,” said Daddy. “Jack’s safer down in the mine than up on the highway, driving his car at seventy miles an hour. Jack’s worked fifteen years in the mine and never been hurt yet.”
Mama went back to the kitchen.
“Why does she worry so about Uncle Jack?” asked Tina.
“Just because he’s her baby brother, she keeps fussing over him,” said Daddy.
But just the same, Mama was uneasy.
“He’s settin’ crib-blocks pretty far in, he told me,” said Mama. “That’s dangerous work. That slate can fall if you look at it.” The dog howled again. “Queenie senses things,” Mama went on. “That dog knows when somebody’s in danger. Oh, if it’s Jack …”
Nighttime came and the family went to bed. The dog was restless under the house and howled at intervals. Tina could not sleep. She had heard many stories of mine injuries and disasters that happened to other people. Was it the Wilsons turn now? Was something bad going to happen? Her mother’s fears had been passed on to the little girl.
She slept awhile, then a sound woke her again. What was it? Was Mama up already, “loading” Daddy’s bucket in the kitchen? It was still dark. The mine whistle always blew in the morning while Tina was still in bed, and Daddy always went off down the hill before it was light. She hadn’t heard the whistle. Wasn’t it time yet?
Suddenly Tina heard a tapping at the window. Then she heard voices and knew Daddy was up. Daddy was talking to someone. Tina listened and barely caught the words, “Jack is under the slate.”
“Under the slate”—even the youngest coal camp child knew what that meant. A block of slate had fallen from the roof of the mine, and Uncle Jack was under it … Beloved Uncle Jack, Mama’s “baby brother.” Uncle Jack, the children’s best friend. Tina’s heart skipped a beat. Was he dead?
It was quiet now. The man—it sounded like Uncle Chick—had gone away. Daddy was moving around, putting on his clothes. Then she heard Mama.
“Where are you going, Walter? Is anything wrong?”
Had Mama heard the tap on the window and the man’s message?
“Somebody came,” said Mama. “Who was it?”
The dog howled again.
“It was Chick,” Mama said. “What did he come for? Oh, I know. Somebody’s hurt—it’s Jack!”
Then Tina heard Daddy’s stern voice, “The mine is no place for a woman to be, when a man is hurt.”
Tina heard Mama crying and she burst into tears herself. Daddy went out and the sound of his footsteps died quickly away. Tina tiptoed into Mama’s bedroom and crept into her bed. She put her arms around Mama and they cried together.
It seemed a long time before Daddy got back. Mama and the children were all up and dressed. The first pink streaks of daylight flooded the sky over the mountain. Mama’s face was set and white, as she met Daddy at the door.
“Is he dead?” she asked.
“No.” Daddy put his arms around Mama and held her tight.
“I told you not to borrow trouble,” he said. “The roof was bad and Jack was setting up crib-blocks like you said. A big piece of slate came down and crushed his shoulder and arm. He jumped out of the way just in time to escape the worst of it. They had to take him to the hospital to find out how bad it was. His collarbone is broken and some bones in his arm …”
“Just his arm?” said Mama. “Oh, thank God!”
“It would have broken his back,” said Daddy, “if he hadn’t stepped to one side.”
“Poor Jack!” said Mama. “A broken arm.”
“How long will he have to stay in the hospital?” asked Jeff.
“I don’t know,” said Daddy. “His shoulder is crushed and will be put in a cast until the bones heal.”
“Poor Jack!” said Mama. “He’s never been sick in bed for a single day in all his life. How can he stand it?”
“Lucky Jack, you’d better say,” said Daddy. “He’s lucky he’s still alive, and he’s lucky his back’s not broken.”
“I’m glad it was only his arm,” said Celia.
“So am I,” said Ronnie.
“I’ll take him some of Grandma’s flowers,” said Tina.
Jeff called Queenie and went out the door without saying a word.
Chapter Four
HARDSHIP
“How’s Jack? Is he hurt bad?”
Before Tina left for school, the neighbors began to come in. Although the Wilsons had no telephone, the news of Jack’s injury had spread. Mrs. Bryant came back and forth with messages from people who had phoned at her house to inquire.
Others came to the door. Celia met them with baby Letty on her arm. She told them all she knew. Then Uncle Chick and Grandma came in Uncle Jack’s car to take Celia and Mama and Daddy to the hospital. Mama hustled Jeff and Tina off to school. When she got there, school had begun.
Tina could not keep her mind on her lessons at all. She kept looking out of the window. The schoolhouse was on Blackberry Hill and across the valley she could see the coal-tipple—the big black ugly thing standing there by Linden Number 3, where they brought Uncle Jack out on a stretcher, crushed and hurt. Tina put her head down on her desk and began to cry again.
A kind hand touched her shoulder.
“What’s the matter, Christina?” asked Miss Sanford.
“It’s Uncle Jack …” began Tina.
“Jack! Jack Ferris!” cried Miss Sanford, frightened. “Has anything happened to Jack?”
“He’s hurt bad,” said Tina. “They took him to the hospital last night.”
“Oh no!” cried Miss Sanford. Tears came to her eyes, but she brushed them away. “I’m sure you don’t feel like
studying much today, Tina. Wouldn’t you like to go home?”
“Now?” asked Tina. “Before school is out?”
“Yes,” said Miss Sanford.
“Nobody’s there,” said Tina. “They’ve all gone to the hospital.”
“Is there any other place you’d like to go?”
“Grandma Ferris’s,” said Tina. “But she’s gone to the hospital too. Uncle Jack is her baby boy.”
“Is your grandpa at home?” asked Miss Sanford.
“I suppose so,” said Tina. “He wasn’t in the car.”
“You go and see Grandpa,” said the teacher. “He has some mine ponies, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, two new ones,” said Tina.
The thought of the mine ponies cheered Tina up. How was Snowball? Was her hurt foot well and had she gone back to work? And those two new ponies with the pretty names—Bright Eyes and Diamond. She had almost forgotten them. It would be nice to see the ponies again.
But when she got to Grandpa’s, her happiness faded.
The house was closed and empty. Tina hurried to the barn as fast as she could. Was something wrong here too? Grandpa was in one of the stalls, doing something. She heard him muttering to himself.
Tina came in and called out, “Can I have a pony ride, Gramp?”
“Pony ride!” growled Grandpa. “What’s the matter? Are you crazy, girl? All you can think of is pony rides. When are you going to get a little sense?”
Tina’s heart sank. Grandpa was cross today. His rheumatism must be bad. That always made him cross. He came out of the stall limping. Yes—that meant a bad knee.
Tina looked in and saw a sad sight. The white pony, Snowball, was lying down and foam was coming from her mouth. She must be very sick. Grandpa was putting a brown liquid into a bottle with a long neck. He paid no attention to Tina at all.
“What’s the matter with Snowball?” asked Tina.
“Matter enough!” said Grandpa. “Bad case of colic. Can’t hardly walk, can’t stand up—just lays around.”
“‘Colic.’ What’s that?” asked Tina.
“Don’t you know?” Grandpa’s eyes pierced hers. “It’s good old-fashioned tummy ache, same as you kids get from eatin’ green apples. That fool pony broke down her fence and got over to that apple tree and ate herself sick. She’s got a bad case of cramps.”
“Like Jeff had that time?” Tina asked.
“Yep! Same thing,” said Grandpa. “Had to have the vet come and give her some dope or she’d a died.”
Grandpa took the bottle in the stall and got ready to give the pony another dose.
“Come here, Christina! You hold her head up,” said Grandpa, “so I can pour it down her throat.”
Tina never knew how she did it, but together she and Grandpa got the medicine down. Snowball opened one eye and looked up as if she knew they were trying to help her.
“Snowball can’t have apples any more,” said Grandpa. “You kids must remember that. Another case of colic will finish her sure.”
“We don’t want Snowball to die, do we?” asked Tina.
“Not on your life,” said Grandpa.
The pony seemed to be resting easier, so Grandpa and Tina walked out to the pasture gate. There were three other ponies there besides Bright Eyes and Diamond. The others were Stubby, Red and Spot. Grandpa rented them out to other punch mines.
“You tell Jeff to come and ride them,” said Grandpa. “If they get too fat, they won’t work. Tell him to come by each evening and give them a run. They need more exercise.”
Grandpa and Tina looked at the new ponies and talked about how pretty they were. Tina almost forgot about Uncle Jack. Then they went back to the house. Grandpa stopped in the kitchen and brought out a dish of Grandma’s freshly made cookies. Tina and Grandpa helped themselves and sat down in the porch swing to visit.
This was Grandpa’s favorite place, for he could see the coal camp which he loved and where he had lived all his life. He could see the black tipple, symbol of his life-work in the mine. Grandpa liked to sit there to dream and remember his past life. As he talked to the little girl, he seemed almost to be talking to himself.
“I’ve been a miner for sixty years,” said Grandpa. “Began when I was ten years old because my daddy was a miner before me. Miners are clean people, honest people. There’s lots of hardship and long hours, but I never had an accident till I’d worked fifty-nine years, then I lost one finger. I retired at sixty and got my pension. Then I started in business for myself—leasing pony mines. I can’t give up and do nothing. It’s bad for a man to give up and quit.”
What he said made Tina think of Uncle Jack again.
“Gramp,” said Tina, “do you think Uncle Jack’s going to die?”
Grandpa turned to her quickly. “Die, nothing!” he said. “It would take more than a ton of slate to kill that scalawag! Broken shoulder and collarbone—what’s that? Nothing!”
Grandpa reached out and took Tina’s hand in his own. He rocked the swing gently back and forth, humming a little tune. Tina felt better as he told her tales of things Uncle Jack used to do when he was a little boy. “Run along home now,” he added. “Your mama’ll be looking for you. And don’t you worry about Uncle Jack.”
The days were getting short now with cooler weather, and the sky was dark with clouds. It was foggy in the valley, and as Tina ran down the hill, she saw the fog coming up to meet her. A dense white fog was rising from the coal camp, blotting out the houses. Tina ran fast until it reached her, then she had to slow up.
Suddenly she was in the middle of it. She could hardly see the houses now. A light went on in one house—whose was it? The road turned and she stepped in a ditch. She could not tell which way she was going. She wanted to get home before the fog got bad. All the houses looked alike. Even in broad daylight, Tina had to count them to find which one she lived in. Now she could not see the numbers on them at all. How would she ever find her house in the fog?
She kept bravely on. Now there was a fence by the road. She kept her hand on it, walking in the grass. A truck zoomed out of nowhere. She heard but could not see it, until the dim lights were almost on her. Then it went on. Which way was the road? There were no sidewalks—she’d better keep hold of the fence. When the fence ended, she came to a ditch. Jumping across, she was afraid she was in the road again. What if a car—a big truck filled with coal, should come along before she saw it?
Tina tried to hold back the tears, but couldn’t. She stumbled on, not knowing where she was going. Then she found another fence with pickets. She felt the pickets one by one, until she came to the gate.
“I’ll go in,” she said. “I’ll go in the house and see who lives here. I’ll find out whose house it is.”
The houses stood close to the road, the narrow porches in front. Tina went in the gate and found her way to the porch. Where were the lights? Where were the windows? Who lived here, anyway?
She came to the front door, which was shut tight. She knocked, but no answer came. She felt her way to the window at one side, and her heart sank, for it was boarded up. She went back to the window on the other side of the door. It was boarded up too.
It was one of the empty houses. Nobody lived there. The family had gone away to some other town, where the father could get work. More and more families were leaving Linden. Tina tried to think whose house it could be, but the names of the families who had gone escaped her.
The house was empty, she could not go in. The fog was heavier now than ever. She looked down and could hardly see the front step. There was nothing to do but wait, so she sat down and leaned her head against the post. She folded her arms tightly together. The fog was so damp, it chilled her through and through. But at least, here she was safe.
Tina never knew how long she sat there. She must have dozed a while. Suddenly she woke up—a dog was barking. Was it Queenie, Jeff’s own Queenie? She heard a boy’s voice calling the dog, and there was Jeff as big as life. And the fog was gone. It ha
d lifted to the mountain top and left the valley clear.
“So there you are!” Jeff said. “I’ve been hunting high and low for you.”
“The fog … the fog …” began Tina.
“I went up to Gramp’s and Gramp said you left there a long time ago,” said Jeff. “When I got home, you hadn’t come. So I went out to look for you.”
“I got all turned around,” said Tina. “I didn’t know where I was going. Whose house is this, anyhow?”
“Don’t you even know where you are?” asked Jeff. “This is where the Davises used to live, right next to the Hurleys. You were almost home and didn’t know it.”
“I was afraid I’d be run over,” said Tina. “A big coal truck came along and nearly hit me.”
“You were smart to go up on a porch and wait,” said Jeff. “That was the safest thing to do. Do you know what happened to that coal truck? It ran into the Murphys’ fence, turned over and dumped all the coal in the Murphys’ yard! They got a big load of coal for nothing!”
“Was the man hurt?” asked Tina.
“No, he jumped out,” said Jeff. “But boy, was he scared! Come on home now and get warm. Daddy and I brought the coal heater in from the porch and set it up in the living room. Mama’s got a nice warm fire going.”
“Did they get back from the hospital?” asked Tina.
“Yes, they came back early,” said Jeff.
“How’s Uncle Jack?” asked Tina.
“Better,” said Jeff. “Come on, let’s run. I’ve got to get coal in. Here Queenie!”
The fog had lifted now. The children ran home and Tina felt warmer when she got there. But she went straight to the stove in the front room and held out her hands.
Waves of comforting heat radiated from the stove and filled the room. Daddy and Celia and baby Letty were sitting up close. They all loved the genial warmth of the coal heater. They talked cheerfully about Uncle Jack now, until Mama called them into the kitchen for supper.
When payday came again, Daddy was not at home. He had gone with Uncle Chick to Virginia to see about getting some mine equipment.
So Mama sent Jeff to the company store to draw Daddy’s pay. Jeff put the statement in an inside pocket of his jacket, where it would be safe. Mama told Tina to go along with him, so she put on her old winter coat and tied a scarf over her head.
