Trapper Boy

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Trapper Boy Page 7

by Hugh R. MacDonald


  He had little time to think about much of anything, because several minutes later another pony came pulling a filled cart. A short time later it was followed by another, and JW listened to the familiar sound of metal on metal. He realized the extra carts must have been the ones waiting on the other side of the roof-fall.

  JW leaned his back against the wall and felt something move across his boot. His heartbeat quickened. Pulling his foot back, he saw it was the lame rat. His first instinct was to shoo it away, but instead he reached into his coat pocket and found a few oats. He let them fall next to his foot. The rat devoured the oats and scurried into the darkness. It wasn’t ready to trust him completely.

  He leaned against the wall again, and his heart beat slow and regular. He felt his eyelids become heavy, and stood up straight. After a few minutes, his eyes again started to close, and he shuffled his feet, but sleep overtook him. He awoke to the sound of bells ringing softly. A miner stood before him, and the horse, with bells connected to his harness, shook his head from side to side. The bells reminded JW of a sleigh ride he’d been on years earlier.

  “You find the nights long, do you, son?” the man asked.

  “Yes, sir, I do,” JW answered.

  “They surely are. I spent a year on this very door, and many a night I drifted off to sleep. But I somehow got used to it. I was about sixteen when I started in the mine. Have to keep your mind filled to stay awake on this job. I did a lot of daydreaming. Thought about places I’d been before coming underground and wished I was back there. Still think about the ships I sailed on from time to time. The ocean can be a terrible master, but to see the sun in the day and the moon and stars at night … ah, those were fine times. My name’s David Smith, but folks call me Smitty.”

  “Mine’s John Wallace Donaldson, but some call me JW. Where did you sail on the ships?”

  “Back home in Barbados,” Smitty said.

  “Barbados. That’s in the Caribbean, right?”

  “It sure is, and the water is as blue as the sky, and the sand is as white as snow. But the promise of a job that would give us a better life convinced my family to move here ten years ago. Lots of men from all over the world came to work these mines.”

  “My friend Frankie, I just found out his father works down here. They came from Italy,” JW said.

  “Yes, and Janus, who now goes by John, brought his family here from Poland. We all came hoping to escape poverty only to find it seems to have followed us,” Smitty said.

  “I would love to sail a ship to Barbados some day. Do you plan to return there?”

  “Perhaps one day. Maybe on a ship when you are the captain.” They both laughed. “Better get the door open, son.”

  Pulling the door open, JW listened to the bells and remembered the sleigh ride as he watched Smitty go through. He hoped that he could learn more about Barbados. Perhaps he could learn from the other men about their countries as well.

  Chapter 23

  Mary Donaldson turned quickly in response to the knocking at the back door, her hand coming to her mouth, surprised to see Beth standing in the doorway.

  “Come in, dear. What brings you here?” she asked.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Donaldson. I thought I’d meet John Wallace this morning and walk with him to school.”

  “Won’t he be surprised then?” Mary said.

  “I don’t know how he can do it. Staying up all night and then half of the day,” Beth said.

  “I know, dear. I’m worried he’s not getting enough sleep. He says he wants to spend an hour or two on his studies every evening. If he does that, he’ll only be sleeping five or so hours a night. He won’t be able to keep up the pace.”

  “He hopes work picks up at the mine and that maybe he’ll be able to return to school full time,” Beth said, her eyes hopeful.

  “I know what he hopes for, Beth, but I’ve never seen the mine in this shape before. The owners don’t seem to care if the men and their families starve. It takes John Wallace and his father both working just to bring in enough to manage. If his father was still getting five shifts a week then John Wallace never would’ve had to go to the pit.”

  Gulliver’s barking drew a halt to their conversation. Beth watched as Gulliver raced down the road. She heard the shrill whistle of JW.

  “I’ll wait outside until he’s eaten,” Beth said.

  “I won’t hear of such a thing, and I’m sure John Wallace wouldn’t either. Sit right at the table and I’ll pour you a cuppa tea.”

  Beth sat and waited. JW’s eyes lit up when he saw her at the table.

  “Is everything alright?” he asked.

  “Yes. I came to walk to school with you,” Beth said. “You are going, aren’t you?”

  “I sure am. After I have a bite of breakfast, I’ll be ready to go. I finished all my homework. I just want to read the science chapter again.”

  “Yeah. I read it a few times before it made any sense. We can talk about it on the way to school,” Beth said.

  Mary watched the two children discussing their studies. Her smile was sad, for she believed they were heading in opposite directions. Still, she hurried them along so they would not be late for class.

  “Come right home after school, John Wallace.”

  “Oh I will, Ma. If not before,” JW said, and put his hand up to stifle a yawn. He looked at Beth and his mother. “Once I get used to the shifts, I’m sure it’ll get easier.”

  “Come again any time, Beth,” Mary said.

  “Thank you for the tea.”

  Chapter 24

  “The numbers inside the brackets are....” Mr. Cantwell’s voice became a droning sound, the words no longer discernable, as JW fought against sleep. It wasn’t quite eleven o’clock, and he had nodded off several times. Each time he awoke, Mr. Cantwell was further along in the lesson. JW stared at the numbers on the blackboard and realized he could no longer follow the teacher’s instructions.

  Raising his hand, JW asked to be excused. He packed his scribbler and textbook into his satchel and left the room. A few muffled voices reached his ears: “He should be home in bed. He can’t handle it.” He tried to ignore the comments but knew the others were right. Trying to do work and go to school was beginning to look impossible. During the walk home, JW’s mood changed from negative to positive to negative again as he tried to decide what he should do. Entering his home, he waved a hand to his mother and went upstairs to bed.

  He wondered if he shouldn’t just give up on the idea of going to school. It would make life easier if he could just come home from work and sleep away the day. JW’s mind raced. There was so much to consider, but his tired body was telling him to take it easy. Lying on the bed, JW was set to give up on school until he looked at the picture his father had drawn of his friend Mickey. The haunted eyes seemed to be pleading for escape. Perhaps he would try again tomorrow.

  He slept fitfully; rats chased him down the darkened tunnels, and Mickey laughed at him, telling other men that JW had always been afraid of the dark. Angry men yelled for him to hurry and open the trap door. His father joined in with the men, laughing and laughing … JW woke and pulled the blankets up to his neck. He wondered if he’d called out. He hoped he hadn’t. He didn’t want his mother to know he was afraid. But the darkness.... He fell back to sleep. This time he didn’t dream.

  Chapter 25

  “Come on, dear,” Mary Donaldson called from the bottom of the stairs. “It’s time to get up now.”

  “Okay, Ma. Be right there.” He wanted to turn over and go back to sleep but knew he had to get up. He looked around for his satchel, but it was nowhere to be seen. Panic-stricken, he knelt down and looked under his bed. It wasn’t anywhere in the room.

  “Ma. Did you see my satchel?” JW asked as he ran down the stairs.

  “It’s on the t
able. I went up and got it earlier and set your work out for you. There’s a bowl of beans ready for you and a cuppa tea. I’ll feed your father a little later on. Hurry on then. Get to your work.”

  JW looked at his mother. “Thanks, Ma. I’ll get right at it.” He opened his math book and read the pages he had slept through in class. After a few minutes he caught on to the lesson. He read several pages further and tried a few more questions. The hours passed quickly.

  “All right then, JW, it’s time to go,” his father said. “Best pack up your bag.”

  “Yes, sir.” JW packed his school books and the lunch his mother had made in his satchel. He noticed a large supply of kindling by the stove and saw that the coal bucket had been filled. He didn’t like the thought of his mother having to get in the coal and wood.

  “I’m sorry, Ma. I forgot about the coal and kindling.”

  “Don’t worry about it, dear. Your father got it in this morning.”

  Relieved, JW hurried into his coat and boots and hugged his mother. He went outside and petted Gulliver then rushed in and cleaned out Lightning’s stall. He threw in some hay and oats, pocketing a handful of oats for the injured rat. From beside the barn, JW saw his mother silhouetted in the doorway and watched as his father bent to kiss her. She was a strong woman who stayed alone at night. He was glad she had Gulliver there to protect her.

  JW crouched beside Gulliver and whispered for him to guard the house. He waved to his mother as he hurried to catch up to his father. Starting tomorrow, he would have to make the trek by himself. He was scheduled to work, but his father had the next two days off. The mine’s owners had cut the hours, and his father was to lose two full shifts this week. The only reason JW was working every day was because there was coal to be hauled from the mine face, and someone had to be there to open and close the trap door.

  “Finding it tough to stay awake in school, are you?” his father asked.

  “Yes. I’m ready to go after breakfast, but by eleven o’clock it’s like someone’s pulling on my eyelids trying to make them close. Sometimes I wake up and I’ve missed half of what the teacher has said. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep going or not.”

  “Time will tell,” his father said, then changed the subject. “Do you remember what I told you about the workings of the mine? How the whole process works from start to finish?”

  “I sure do, Da.”

  “Start at the beginning and tell me what it takes to get the coal to the surface.”

  “Once the seam has been discovered, they use black powder to blast the new tunnel, and then they divide the tunnels into exact sizes. Room and pillar is where the shafts of coal are left to support the roof. The part I don’t like is the miner’s harvest. It seems terribly dangerous for a man to pick at the ceiling until it falls to the ground. Why do they take the chance?” JW asked.

  “It’s because the coal is right above you for the taking. There’s tons of coal available. It’s a chance for the men to make a decent day’s pay. You just got to keep your mind on the task at hand, and when you hear it getting ready to let go, run like the devil.”

  JW spent the rest of the walk explaining how the coal got to the surface, and his father seemed pleased that he understood how the process worked.

  “I carry the pictures that you drew,” JW said, tapping the satchel. “So if I get rusty on the details, I’ll be able to just look at them and remember.”

  JW took notice of the graveyard as they neared it. He hadn’t thought much of it until that moment, when he realized he would have to pass it alone tomorrow. “I wonder if Gulliver could walk with me tomorrow night? You know, to keep me company.”

  “I don’t think that’d be a problem. I’m sure old Gulliver would like the exercise,” his father said. “And I’ll be home to be there with your mother. Watch where I put our clothes tonight, so you’ll know where to put yours when I’m not with you.”

  “Sure.”

  As JW and his father arrived at the mine, he heard some of the men grumbling about the reduced hours and the loss of wages. His father joined in, but JW stood back. It was adult talk, and besides, he would have been quite happy to be off work the next couple of days to get caught up on school. At least next week he would only have to work three days.

  Mickey stood behind his father but didn’t say anything as the men continued to discuss the lost wages. JW waved to him and received a slight nod in response. He wondered if Mickey was angry because of last night. JW was still a little embarrassed about asking Mickey to walk him back to his door. The rake started loading and JW hurried to get a seat. He was surprised when Mickey took a seat next to him.

  “I thought you were mad at me about last night,” JW said in a low voice.

  “Nah,” Mickey said. “I still don’t like the dark either. I was lucky to get back before Old Man Reilly got there. Boy, is he cranky. Makes Da seem timid.” They both laughed at this, because Mickey’s father was anything but timid. “Whatcha got in the satchel?” Mickey asked.

  “My lunch and school books,” JW said.

  “School books? You mean you’re still going to school?”

  “I get about half the day in before I have to go home, but next week I’ll only have to work three days, so I hope to get at least two full days in. My marks won’t be as high as I’d like, but even if I can get a pass—”

  “Didn’t you hear? One of the trapper boys broke his leg playing ball and won’t be working for a month or more. You and I’ll be here at least five days a week, maybe more,” Mickey said.

  JW felt the trip come to a stop at about the same time he felt his hopes vanish. He knew there was no way he could work five or six days a week and keep up with his school studies. He wanted to cry, but didn’t.

  “I hope you’re wrong.”

  “I wish I was, but Red told me last night. He said there were some changes coming soon too. Something ’bout a new man in charge. I’ll see you later if I get a chance.”

  JW lit his headlamp and walked to the door. He pulled his satchel off his shoulder and wrapped it in the pillowcase, then laid it on the ledge where the rats couldn’t reach it. Before long, he heard the scraping of a coal-filled cart, and got ready to open the door. It was Old Man Reilly. JW pulled the door open just as Reilly seemed ready to say something.

  “Good evening, sir,” JW said.

  “Hrmph,” Reilly responded in an unintelligible mumble.

  JW closed the door and reached for the grease to lather the hinges and then realized they had been greased the night before. He crossed the tracks and stood by the ledge where his satchel was resting. His mind raced at the prospect of having to spend six nights a week in this darkness.

  Before long another cart arrived. This time he heard bells announcing the arrival and was happy to see Smitty.

  “You look wide awake tonight, JW. Did you get some sleep?”

  “Yes, a little. It’s still early though. I’m usually good until halfway through the night,” JW said. “I heard there are some changes coming, a new man in charge?”

  “I know that Red is finally retiring. He’s an overman. You know, a boss. He keeps the shifts running pretty smoothly. They’re gonna have to look long and hard to find another man who knows all the workings of the mine. Better open up the door, JW, or I won’t earn any pay tonight.”

  JW was surprised to learn that Red was a boss. He imagined that a boss would holler a lot, but Red had been quiet and kind. Something moved across his boot, and JW saw the injured rat and forgot all about Red retiring. He dropped a small pile of oats and watched as the rat ate a little more slowly. It seemed to linger a moment after it was finished, perhaps beginning to trust him. He watched as it made its way across the tracks and into a dark corner. It no longer seemed to be part of the pack. JW knew how it felt, alone in the dark.

 
The rest of the night passed without incident, and JW was glad when he saw the men heading toward the travelling way. He hurried behind them before realizing he’d left his satchel on the ledge. He turned and started to run back to his trap door. He’d have to hurry or he’d miss the rake and be down there for hours. As he rounded a turn, he bumped into his father.

  “This what you’re looking for?” his father asked, holding up the satchel.

  “It sure is.”

  “It’s kinda heavy. What’ve you got in it?”

  “School books and the pictures you drew.”

  “Why not leave the school books home until morning?”

  “Just in case I have to work a little later. I could go right to school from here.”

  His father smiled. “We best get along then. How was your night?”

  “Pretty good, Da. Mickey said that a trapper boy broke his leg playing ball and will be off for a month or more and that him and me will have to work five or six nights a week. I hope that’s not true.”

  “We’ll talk about it on the way home,” his father said. “Okay?”

  “Sure.”

  The water streamed over them and washed away some of the night’s dust and grime. JW was trying to process all that he had heard: working six nights a week, Red quitting and a new boss being needed.

  The sun was bright as JW and his father went outside. Some young boys were throwing rocks at crows that had perched on the wires beside the breakers. The crows were there hoping to scavenge a few morsels from the men’s lunch pails; the boys were passing time until their shift started in the breakers. The crows dodged the rocks thrown by the boys, who would soon be dodging shale and coal that came crashing down the chutes to maim or dismember them.

 

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