by Patrick Lee
The noise of the screeching brakes from the dust snapped Cliff out of his reoccurring horrible memory. Tomas gave him a light elbow. “Are you okay, Cliff? It’s time to get off.”
“Yes, Yes. I am fine. It was good to meet you.”
“Me too. You’re a hard worker. I had trouble keeping up with you. Are you going to do anything tonight for the Fourth?”
Cliff sauntered down the steps of the bus. “I am going back to the barracks in Hungry Horse. After a shower, I’d like to get something good to eat. Maybe go bowling right there too. I don’t want to go near the bars.”
“Would you like me to join up with you?”
Cliff stood quietly for a few seconds. It was strange for him that a white worker wanted to do anything with him. He mostly spent the time alone or with other Indians who worked on the Dam. “Okay. At six, right here.”
“Great, Cliff. I’ll go shower, and then I have to track down my godfather for a bit; then I’ll meet you right here.”
After a great fried chicken and mashed potatoes dinner at Rocco’s, the two young men walked toward the bowling alley at the quonset hut near Cliff’s barracks. As Tomas and Cliff waited to cross the highway, three drunken men staggered out of the bar in Rocco’s. One of the men cupped his hands and yelled, “Hey Blanket Ass, what you doin’ off the Rez?”
Tomas suddenly turned around, “What did you say?”
The same man answered, “I wasn’t talkin’ to you dumbshit. I was talkin’ to that Indian you’re with.”
Cliff didn’t turn around and started to walk across the highway. Tomas walked to the three men and stopped right in front of the man who was yelling. “Why you being so mean to him? He’s a good man, and a great worker. Leave him alone.”
The man inched up right next to Tomas and got eyeball to eyeball, “Are you goin’ make me, Indian lover? Because if you are, I’m gonna kick your ass too.”
Tomas quietly repeated himself, “Cliff isn’t botherin’ nobody. We’re just goin’ bowling, mindin’ our own business. Like I said, leave us alone.”
The man pushed Tomas hard in the chest and his two friends closed in behind him, “Put the boots to him, Jim. Teach that Indian Lover a lesson.”
Cliff jogged back across the highway and stood next to Tomas. He quietly spoke to Tomas, “Let’s go bowling. Forget about them.”
“Hey. Ya hear that? The card-carryin’ blanket-ass can speak. Ugh!” The other men laughed and tightened the circle.
The sheriff pulled his black 1949 Ford sedan to a dusty stop behind the circle of men. He stepped out and waived his bully club in front of him. “What’s goin’ on here men?”
The drunken man doin’ all of the talking said, “Nothin’ Sheriff, we’d be just talkin’ here. That’s all.”
Sheriff Patrick Schustrom’s tough reputation in the Canyon prevented many fights from happening. He walked over and stood in front of Tomas and Cliff. “Is that what’s goin’ on here, men?”
Tomas nodded yes. Schustrom walked slowly backward toward his car. “That’s good then. I’ll just sit here for a while so’s you good friends can talk some more. Maybe I’ll learn a thing or two about a thing or two.” He flashed a wry smile and closed the car door behind him.
The three men walked away and went inside the Bucket of Blood Bar just down from the parking lot of Rocco’s. Tomas and Cliff crossed the highway and entered the bowling alley to celebrate the Fourth of July.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Three weeks after the Fourth of July, Mikhail’s boss stood with another man and greeted Mikhail as he stepped down from the bus. “Hey Mikhail. Want you to meet somebody. This here is Dick Kearney. He’s the shift superintendent for the iron workers.” Mikhail shook hands and didn’t say anything. His boss continued, “Dick needs another hook tender and I know you had your iron worker card from Butte. Wonder if you’d like to give it a try?”
Mikhail looked at Kearney and answered, “Don’t know nothin’ about that work.”
Kearney stretched his sore back before he spoke. “Each shift at Hungry Horse Dam uses four hook tenders per shift. These men transport every piece of material used on the dam back and forth from one location to the next. Everything from sand and gravel to equipment such as the large northwest shovel. Tenders also tie and untie the buckets and larger skips that go back and forth across the canyon. They use a signal system as many times the operator can’t see the bucket or his bell man.”
He stopped and pointed up to the four cableways that hung high above the Dam. “Them cableways haul the buckets. It’s an endless cable. That there cable is five inches thick in diameter. We called it gut. The cable gets sent through the main tower and then through one of the four towers. Our tenders sometimes ride the buckets and guide the material to its location.” He pointed over to the operator shack. “The operator follows signals from his bell man. When he can’t see the bellman, the tender uses a paddle to signal. You’d learn what the signals mean. Up, down, left, right.”
Mikhail’s boss laughed and said, “Did you get all that, Mik? Old Kearney there usually talks faster. You’re lucky this time.”
Mikhail slowly removed his hard hat and ran his fingers through his thick, black hair. “What do I do when I ain’t ridin’ the buckets?”
“You’d be unloadin’ the buckets. Non-stop and it’s dangerous work. But you’d be making about a buck more an hour.”
“Who’d show me the ropes?”
Kearney nodded his head at a man walking by them. “You’d be workin’ with that fella right there. That’s Bud Reynolds. He’s the best hook tender we got on the project. You’d learn from him I expect.”
Mikhail looked at Kearney and stuck out his hand, “Okay.” Kearney shook his hand and walked over and caught up with Bud Reynolds. “Hey, Bud, hold up there a minute.”
The short stocky man stopped and greeted Kearney, “Mornin’, Dick. Is this my new partner?”
“Ya, it is. Meet Mikhail Anzich.”
During lunch, Mikhail listened to his new partner talk about himself. Mikhail thought how this man loved his work. He gave Mikhail a short history of how he started working at the Dam in 1947. His first job was digging the diversion tunnel. He was an ironworker and laid reinforcement steel in the tunnel too. Bud Reynolds virtually worked on the construction of every phase of the project. He helped build the towers, the cement mixing plant, and the overhead cableways. His longest lasting job was that of a hook tender.
Mikhail enjoyed listening to the stories and planned to share them with Tomas. “Where did ya come from, Bud?”
“I was raised in the Ronan area, and as a young guy I worked for the U.S. Surveying crew. I climbed every peak in the Mission Mountains and placed markers on the peaks for their flyovers to base their locations. I later moved to Martin City and started a butcher plan and meat shop. My brother-in-law owned the grocery store attached, and once the work here on the dam started, I sold the business to my brother-in-law.”
Mikhail checked his pocket watch as Bud closed his lunch bucket. “Time to go I guess.”
“Ya Mik, time to go.”
Later that day, Bud Reynolds sat in his old rocker on the front porch and drank ice tea with his wife. He set his cup down on the weathered picnic table and said, “I got a new partner today. He caught right on and worked steady all day. I enjoyed talkin’ to him and I was wonderin’ how you’d feel about havin’ him and his friend over for supper sometime.”
Sara Reynolds looked up from her novel. “What’s his name, honey?”
“Mikhail Anzich. He’s from Butte and workin’ to get money for his granddaughter who has polio. He’s the first guy in a long time who I think might work out to be a good friend.”
She set her novel in her lap, sipped her tea, and then continued, “How old is he? And is his friend a woman or a man? And one more thing, how—”
Bud’s robust laugh interrupted his wife, “Holy cow, Sara. I only worked with him for one day. I just thought it might be
fun to have them over. We ain’t had nobody over for awhile.”
She walked over to him and kissed him on the head, “That’ll be fine, honey. How about Saturday? I can pick up a couple of fresh chickens at Byrd’s Meats. We can have potato salad with it. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds great to me. I’ll ask him tomorrow. Oh, by the way. You know his friend. She’s the lady who runs the Royal Show house.”
“Hannah?”
“Ya, I’m pretty sure that’s what he told me. They’re just friends at this point, but he seemed to think a lot about her. That was the most he talked all day. Otherwise, he didn’t have much to say.”
Sara knelt down in front of her husband, “I really like Hannah.
She’s fun and interesting. I haven’t talked to her for a while and it will be great to see her. Good. I’m glad you wanta do this.” She went inside and pulled out her recipe box and looked for a dessert idea for Saturday. She hummed as she thought how it would be nice to have a good friend besides her family. “Hmmm. It would be different having a new friend to talk to about my ideas and worries.”
Down in Hungry Horse in the Dam Town Tavern, John Nolan ordered another round of beers for himself and the other three men at his table. He held court with the other electricians and waved his hands as he told stories. “Now, you men think you know tough guys. Why I know that the bartender over there is a better fighter than any of them men you talked about. Billy Socolich was a middleweight contender before he got hurt in that car wreck back in 1948.”
The bearded man to Nolan’s left jumped in, “You’re so full of bullshit, Nolan. Johnny Linderman from Ronan only lost one fight here in Hungry Horse. He’s gotta be the toughest man on the project.”
Nolan gulped the remains of his beer and set the glass down hard on the table. “Tell me about the fight Johnny lost. Then I’ll tell you if I think he’s the toughest guy around here.”
The man shook his head, smiled, and began his story. “Well, it happened a couple months back. There was a jam on one of the flows to turbine number two and things was gettin’ pretty backed up. So the Navy flew in this skin diver to go down and work on the busted flow. It took him a couple of days and nights to get the job done, but he did it. He—”
“For Christ’s sakes, get to the story,” interrupted Nolan. The other men laughed and razzed the man to get on with his story.
“Anyways, as I was saying, this skin diver went down to the Dam Town Tavern to have a few after he finished the job. While he was tellin’ about fixing the flow, it came out that he was a boxer in the Navy. He fought all over the world for the Navy. It was about that time when Johnny Linderman came over. Johnny asked the guy if he wanted to go out back and show him how tough he was.
The—”
Nolan interrupted him again, “Holy shit, are we ever goin’ hear about the fight?”
“Nolan, if you interrupt me again, you’ll see how tough I am. Shut up and listen.” He winked at Nolan and started again. “The Navy guy told Johnny that he didn’t want to fight while they both been drinkin’. So they made plans to meet behind The Dam Town on Friday afternoon at 5:00.”
“Well, what happened?” Nolan stood up and waved his hands. “Finish the goddamn story before I die of old age.”
After the men stopped laughing, the bearded man continued, “They met Friday night at 5:00. Big crowd. Guys bettin’ all over the place. I bet on Johnny for sure. Most the bets were on Johnny. The two men stepped in the circle. Johnny was taller and bigger than the Navy skin diver. Away they went. Johnny never laid a hand on the guy. Fastest guy I ever seen. He hit Johnny twenty, twenty-five times at least. Johnny kept coming back for more until his brother stepped in and waved it off. That Navy skin diver never even sweated. Jesus he was fast. Johnny told me later that this kid also packed quite a punch too.”
Nolan drank his beer in one gulp. “Oh, dear God in heaven. If that story went any longer I think I would’a died of cotton mouth disease.” He slapped the bearded man on the shoulder and then faked a few jabs at the man. They both laughed and toasted their glasses.
Danny Fisher entered the story telling. “Well, let me tell you one about our bartender Billy Socolich. Me and him hanged over the front of the Dam on a lined scaffold repairin’ a line wire for the telephone system. This practical joker up top held out his dick like he was peeing on us when he actually poured coffee on us. The coffee got on Billy’s new Can’t Bust Em pants. He thought the guy peed on him. So up he goes. He climbed the scaffolding hoist rope and just beat the shit out of the guy, right in front of a laborer walking boss and all. Nobody said a word, and Billy slid down the rope back to our platform.”
Nolan asked, “What did he say when he got back down to ya?” Fisher laughed and then answered, “He never said a word. He just picked up his pliers and finished splicin’ the line. Not one single word I tell ya, and I wasn’t about to ask em’.”
Nolan went to the bar and picked up four more beers. After he set them on the table, he looked around a couple of times and then said, “Now men. I’m gonna tell you somethin’ and it don’t leave this here table. Understand? The other three men nodded their heads and Nolan continued, “There is one man on this entire job you never want to get on the wrong side of. I can tease the hell out of him, but I know when to stop. He’d take your head off with one back hand if he loses control.”
The bearded man leaned forward toward Nolan, “Well tell us you dumb shit. Who is he?”
He looked around again and ducked his head in and out and lowered his voice, “Mikhail Anzich, my best friend.”
Danny Fisher leaned in and asked, “Is he that big guy I see you with once in awhile waitin’ for the bus?”
He nodded his head, smiled, and answered, “Yep. That’s him. Don’t never mess with him. He’s a great friend, but in Butte he’s got himself quite a reputation. He don’t drink no more because of how bad he hurt a guy once. You most likely won’t never see him in a bar.”
Fisher sat back in his chair, “Is that his boy with him?”
“It sure is. He’s my godson and I adopted him as my nephew.”
The men laughed and the bearded man shouted at Nolan, “You can’t adopt a kid for your own nephew. You’re so full of shit, Nolan.”
Nolan laughed and winked at the lady sitting at the bar. She winked back and seductively walked back to the ladies room. Nolan watched her behind all the way back. “See that little thing there. I’ll be teaching her a few tricks later tonight.”
Fisher slapped Nolan on the back, “And her old man over there will teach you a few tricks with that pool cue he has in his hand.”
The men laughed and accepted free beers from Billy Socolich. “Have one on me, boys.”
He sat on her kitchen chair and read the sports page from the July 25th edition of the Hungry Horse News. Lila Toma poured him another cup of coffee and set it down next to David as he read the news. She pulled up a chair right next to him and kissed him softly below the left ear. He looked up from the paper and smiled before he spoke, “I’m so glad we talked it out and are back together. I really missed bein’ with you.”
Lila sat back in her chair and closed her robe over her bare legs. “I missed you too, David. That was very nice last night and this morning. But what are we going to do? We’re both still married and it sounds like your family is moving up here in a couple of months.”
“Oh we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. It’ll all work out.”
She stood up and walked to the kitchen sink. She rinsed out her coffee cup and looked out the window at Lake Five. Another beautiful summer morning. Where had the time gone? They were just here doin’ about the same thing and the snow piled halfway up to the window with the temperature twenty-four below zero. “David, we have a big bridge to cross right now.” She pivoted around and looked down at him. “My husband’s still very suspicious of me. He told me that one of his friends might be keeping an eye on me when he goes over to Havre. I’d leave h
im for you, but I’m not sure he’d let me go.”
David set the paper down on the kitchen table and confidently walked over to her. He wrapped his arms around her and moved in for a kiss. She pushed back. “David. What are we going to do? I’m scared and worried. If you don’t have a plan, I can’t go through with it any longer. I just can’t.”
He stepped back and sat back down on the chair. “Well, we know you can’t stay broke up from me for very long. You only lasted—”
“You’re such a bastard, David!” Lila cried and stormed away into the bedroom. She returned with his pants and shoes and flopped them on the floor in front of him. “You need to get out right now. I mean it. Don’t contact me unless you plan to leave your wife and marry me. Get out!” She ran back into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.
David dressed, finished his coffee, and slowly walked to his truck. As he closed the door, he noticed a man sitting in an older Ford pickup parked in between two of the cabins. The man looked away as David looked his way. David started his truck and backed out of the driveway. He drove slowly behind the parked pickup and stared into the truck. The man pulled his camera down from the dashboard and set it in the truck seat. David quickly released the clutch and kicked gravel as he sped away. “Shit!” He yelled as he left the Lake Five grounds and stopped at the stop sign that led to the highway. “Shit, shit, shit!”
The next morning David waited outside of Superintendent Scalf’s office. He nervously talked to Scalf’s secretary Mary about the heat wave and the lightning storm last night. Finally, anxiety overwhelmed him, “Mary, what’s goin’ on. Looks like he’s talkin’ to all the walkin’ bosses.”
