by Alex White
He picked up the manual and rifled through it. “I haven’t seen one of these in years. You know I started out on one of the Con farms?”
“I have trouble believing that.”
“Because of my standing and properties?”
“Because farmers are some hard men. You don’t seem like a hard man.”
He laughed and leaned in. “When I was young, I believed only in myself. I did what I wanted, when I wanted, to whom I wanted. Not much better than a thug, really. A lot of us farmers were like that. Those places are more like prisons than jobs, and you cross the wrong person, you don’t shovel fertilizer. You become fertilizer.”
Nora folded her arms, pretending not to be surprised by his sudden candor.
“Thugs are very flexible people, my dear. They have no code but survival – no morals but to take what they can.” He sniffed loudly, then steepled his fingers. “While I was working there, I met a missionary: Preacher Vernon. Vern used to sneak into the farms with about a dozen of his flock and try to make life better from the inside. He held prayer meetings, vigils and the like. The Con didn’t appreciate that sort of behavior because thinking of God makes men turn away from prostitutes and alcohol: two things the company needed to keep the men in line... and in debt.
“Vern knew the Con didn’t forgive trespassers, and so he kept a strict cover, working the fields with us in the mornings and praying with us in the evenings. If they caught him, that’s sovereign land, so they could do whatever they wanted with him, you know. Not like anyone could stand up to the Con, their land or no.” Duke picked up her Bible, running his thumb over its faux-leather cover. “Over time, Vern taught me that some things were right, and some things were wrong. ‘Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.’ I was a flexible man, soft of character and will. I became a hard man, forged by the hand of God, and he made me inflexible. Do you understand my point?”
She cleared her throat. “I think so.”
She had trouble imagining the old-timer working in those sorts of conditions. She saw no evidence of a difficult life on his pampered face and chubby physique. When she looked at his hands, she saw traces of the man he had been. Thick, strong fingers graced meaty palms, like a factory man’s. She looked back to his slate eyes, sure that he must have been something to look at back in his day.
He set the Bible down. “It ain’t that hard if an old fool like me can understand it.”
“Vern... What happened to him?”
“One of my bunk mates sold him out. Said he ‘didn’t like Vern’s uppity attitude.’ I think the company gave him five hundred dollars for that information. The Con caught Preacher Vernon and strung him up, along with six of his men.”
She grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. The good pastor is with our Father now. He’s a martyr and a saint in my sight.”
“And what happened to the other man? Your bunk mate...”
Duke patted her on the knee. “I’ve had to ask forgiveness for a lot of sins, little lady.”
“I, uh...”
“That’s not really proper conversation, though, is it? By now, you’ve no doubt a better understanding of the nature of your stay here?”
“You want another maid.”
“I want more than that. I want to take care of those in need. I don’t want to see a good woman such as yourself turn to unsavory means of employment.”
“I don’t think that’s likely. I’m sure I could land a job somewhere else.”
He chortled. “Nora, you’ve already been in the oldest profession. You may have only had one client, but the things you did for Jack weren’t out of love, were they?”
She flushed. She considered slapping him, but hesitated. “I did what I had to do.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know... But you do understand that sort of service might be required again if you got a job somewhere else down there in the factory rings. It’s a tough life, and ladies like you have to do a lot of bad things to get ahead. I can pay money like you’ve never seen for your time. I’ll protect my investment, because I’m not just looking for maids.”
Nora perked up. “That’s good, because I don’t dust very well.”
“You didn’t strike me as the type, no. Is it safe to say I’ve piqued your curiosity?”
“It has been piqued for a while.”
“Ten virgins were supposed to greet a bridegroom with lamps lit. Five of them were wise and brought with them extra oil. Five were foolish, choosing not to bring more than what their lamps held. When the bridegroom was delayed, the foolish lost their lights, and begged for help. The wise virgins sent them to merchants, and while they were gone, the bridegroom arrived. He took the five wise ones to his wedding feast and shut the door on the others.”
It took all of Nora’s concentration not to roll her eyes after what Hiram had said. “The wise didn’t share with the others?”
“Not at all, because you can never save a soul from foolishness. No matter how much oil you offer them, it will never be enough, and then there won’t be any for you.”
“Is that the point of the story?” she asked. She suddenly worried that she might have sounded a little belligerent and added, “... sir.”
“We’ll never be able to save everyone, no matter how hard we try.” He looked over the other women in the room. “I think you’d do well to remember that, and keep your lamp filled with patience, in spite of what I’ve heard some of the other women say to you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Wait, you’ve heard them say something?”
“Patience, Miss Vickers, will always be rewarded with attrition.” With that, he stood and walked over to Emma and the group of widows who’d treated her cruelly. He spoke to them in hushed tones with a polite smile, but the message became clear when he passed each of them a few hundred dollars. When Nora looked back at the door, she saw Marie waiting patiently for them, her misshapen lips curled into a smile.
The widows hadn’t been trying to hide their conversation with Nora when they’d chastised her, but they’d still been reasonably private about it. No one else could have heard them over the other quiet voices in the room. Nora thought hard about who else had come near – any maids or servants, perhaps even Hiram – and she couldn’t remember anyone being privy to the altercation. How did Duke know?
Nora was no stranger to gossip around the factory floor, but this was far too much. While a certain amount of intrigue could be pleasing, she began to imagine listening devices or lip readers watching cameras. Perhaps some of the women in the crowd were plants, put there to spy on the others. Perhaps that would be her job before long.
It felt good to see Emma get a bit of comeuppance, but Nora wondered what the woman would do for a job. Hopefully, the widow had some family she could ask for help. The woman’s face was ashen as Marie escorted her from the premises.
Duke winked at Nora as he strode past. “Do stay for supper,” he said, patting her shoulder.
That was the last straw. She was going to keep hanging around until she got a free meal and a few bucks, but that was it. She wasn’t going to play these games. Duke seemed to have some idea about her that simply wouldn’t do.
She saw Hiram out of the corner of her eye and looked back to find him grinning. He pushed off the corner and languidly made his way to her. “Everything you expected?” he drawled, clucking his tongue at the end.
“How did he know?”
“We’d better take a walk if you want to talk about that, sugarpop.” He offered her his arm.
So much misery and disappointment lay bottled in a single parlor. The others around her were truly wretched, and whatever job Duke wanted to offer, she wanted no part in it. They’d been there for hours, with women afraid to speak too much or ask to take a piss – a flock in need of leading.
She stood and took Hiram’s arm. Maybe he could show her the way out after they were finished talking.
A Conclusive Interview
They strolled through an empty ballroom and out of doors onto a veranda. Nora looked out over the backyard and gasped.
Just two or three trees stood between her and uninterrupted fields that ran on for miles and miles. The earth swelled and rolled with patches of fence before becoming obscured by the blue haze of a cool winter’s day. The clouds in the Bellebrook sky were not like those anywhere else in the Hole – not a rising column of steam from the Foundry, soaking in the sun that reflected off the alabaster houses of Edgewood. Rather, soft white giants rolled across the horizon, unfettered by the rows and rows of buildings that usually ringed Nora’s sight.
The scale of the house paled in comparison to the scale of the world beyond. At the edge of the grounds, she saw Hiram’s place: a small stone cottage with wavy glass windows and an electric line running out to it. He probably had the best view of all.
“Close your mouth, Nora. You’re letting flies in.”
She glanced in his direction to scowl, but returned her gaze to the beauty beyond. “He wakes up to this every morning?”
“You can see why he doesn’t want to go into the Hole too often. All that petty shit down there drives him crazy.”
She felt a deep relaxation spreading through her. “Yeah.”
This was the farmer’s sky, Loxley’s sky. Out there, for miles around, there were men who were little better than slaves, but they still awoke to glory above them every single day. She’d seen the world outside once or twice when she’d ventured up to Edgewood in the past, but she’d never considered owning the sight of it for herself.
“There are listening devices in every room of the house,” said Hiram.
“I’m sorry?”
“You asked how he’d heard you. That’s how he did it. There are microphones planted everywhere, disguised as lamps, statues, plants... you name it. Hidden cameras, too. We host a lot of parties at Bellebrook.”
“Why?”
“Why the cameras and such? Or the parties?”
“Why listen in on everything?” she asked.
“Because the richer you get, the more dangerous things are. Duke didn’t get to the top by just making friends.”
The rush of the view faded, and her heart sank back into place. This all seemed too much for her. She didn’t need to be a maid somewhere like this... but Duke had said he wasn’t looking for that.
“Duke told me he wasn’t interviewing me to be a servant,” she said. “What did he mean?”
“Why don’t you ask him, yourself?” he replied, pointing behind her.
The big fellow strode across the veranda, lacking a bit of the showmanship he’d carried through the parlor – more businesslike. “I see you’ve decided to take a walk. I believe I told you to be patient.”
A little anger flashed inside her. “I’ve been sitting around all morning. Maybe I was tired of playing that game.”
“Even if it might cost you the job?”
“I’m a smart girl. I can find another.”
Duke smiled and turned to Hiram. “Miss Vickers and I have to discuss her future here. Stay close in case she decides to leave.”
Hiram nodded and slunk away.
“What did you mean by that? You going to try to stop me from walking out the front door?” asked Nora.
“Not at all.” He pointed to one of the rocking chairs arrayed across the veranda. “What’s going to happen is this: I’m going to go sit in one of those chairs. My offer is sixty thousand dollars annually, with a cash bonus for any good performance. I expect that you will make over a hundred thousand on a bad year. I am not asking you to work as a maid. I am not asking you to take off your clothes.”
“And what are you asking?”
“It’s God’s work. I’m sorry, but secrecy is still of utmost importance. If you agree to the job, I want you to come sit down next to me and we’ll begin our discussions. It’s good money, and it’s an important job where you can make a real difference in your life and the lives of those around you. Don’t take the offer if you’re uncertain, though – I take dereliction of duty very seriously. If you don’t want to come sit with me, go talk to Hiram over there and he’ll sort you out. I’ll give you a meal and two thousand dollars just for visiting me today.”
Two thousand dollars. Nora could eat for half a year on that if she planned it right. She started to ask another question, but Duke turned and walked to a chair, sat down and pulled a fat cigar from his pocket. She watched, still reeling from his offer, as he clipped the tip and lit up. Her eyes darted to Hiram, who shrugged.
What the hell was wrong with these people? The offer was incredible: five times what she was making at the plastics factory. The base pay alone was way higher than Jack’s, and who knew how many of those cash bonuses she could get? She could move up from seven, make a life for herself somewhere cozy and happy, and maybe find someone exciting with whom she could settle down. Then again, maybe the job would provide the excitement, and she’d long for someone boring.
The strange interview process, the bargain and its secrecy still frightened her. She couldn’t imagine what the hell Duke was going to ask of her, but she knew the Ten Commandments well enough. They’d been the only part of the Bible her father drilled into her before his death. Duke wasn’t going to call it “God’s work” and then have her go around murdering and stealing. It would be all right.
Hiram gave her a self-satisfied smile. He certainly approved of the situation, not that he struck her as a shining example of the Lord’s way.
Her heart thundered in her ears. She stood at the edge of tumultuous waters, and here was Duke, beckoning her forward. She lifted one foot off the ground, its sole electrified. Duke might ask her to do anything, but he was a Christian, right? His whole day had been spent showing her the practice of his faith, to show her he was a good man.
She put her foot down in front of her. Then she took another step forward, and another. By the time she reached Duke, she’d built up such an anxiety that she needed to sit. She plopped down in the rocker next to him and sighed, her eyes wide.
“You made the right decision, girl.”
She looked at him. “I’m going to take some convincing.”
“Let’s start with a history lesson.”
“Con ain’t sent me to school.”
“I know it, because the first question any child would ask of the Consortium would be… what?”
The thought about it. “I guess I’d ask why they run everything.”
“Of course you would. Everyone would. And the answer is anything but pleasant. I didn’t learn it until college, and even then, I failed to grasp its realities until I’d been working for the Consortium for a good, long time.”
She waited for him to continue, partially out of deference, partially out of nerves. Her heart had yet to slow.
“In the late 1800s, ours was a country of opportunity for the right men. We’d torn ourselves in half over just war, and the North strove to repair ties with the South. And you know what the South was? A glistening jewel in the American crown with no facets to capture her beauty. She had no factories, no good labor force and none of the political realities of the burgeoning labor unions.”
“Labor unions?”
“Yes, my dear. Thanks to Allan Pinkerton, we needn’t worry about those anymore. Now, three men: Andrew Carnegie, Thomas Edison and John Rockefeller decided that they had a direction for the country—a vision of a free-marketeer’s utopia. They merged their efforts, and together with a few nudges of Congress, they were able to establish monopolies in most sect
ors of our economy. In 1910, they chartered the Consortium, which spun tendrils into every aspect of mundane life. And seventy years hence, the Consortium still stands as a testament to the power and greed of individual men.”
“You’re talking like you don’t like the Con.”
“That’s because I don’t. Good business and godliness don’t often overlap.” He smiled. “You ever been to Atlanta?”
“Never been out of the Hole.”
“You’re going to be getting out a lot more, dear heart. Atlanta is a city of troubles, and I need you to open some doors for me over there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just like here... just like everywhere, it’s controlled by the Consortium, but I sense an ill wind coming for any company folks.” He took a few short puffs to kindle a long one. “I have a few operators in the city’s labor movements, trying to pull them in the right direction, but I feel like things are going astray. I need you to get in there, work amongst them as one of their own, and report back with critical bits of information: people’s whereabouts, their intentions, et cetera. I need to know which way the winds are blowing, so that when I act, I don’t look the fool, you see?”
“You want me to snitch for you?”
“That’s one way to look at it. If you don’t understand the scope of what I’m doing, I can see how you’d think that, but make no mistake, I’m here to bring the glory of God to all the cities of the South.”
“I’m not sure how I’d be helping you do that.”
He glanced at Hiram. “You may as well know the whole story. Bright girl would figure it out after awhile. You know the Con owns the land we’re built on, right?”
“Of course. Sort of. You own this house.”
“But I pay taxes on the land, so I don’t own it. Nashville, Atlanta, Jackson and Mobile – they ain’t any different. But, you know, I’ve seen what the Con can do to a place. I know the kind of soul suffering that goes on around here, and I can assure you, it’s worse in Atlanta. I’ve seen children kill one another and I’ve seen starvation take a lot more bodies than that.” He stared out over the distant fields. “I want to take all these flocks and lead them back into righteousness. I want to make a new nation in the glory of the Word, and we’ll show the whole world what the light of Truth can do. You understand me, sister?”
