“How do we sell them?” I asked Mark.
He grinned at me. “That’s easy enough.” He cleared his throat and called out, “Fish! Fresh fish! Caught today, nice and fresh!”
I had to laugh. He sounded exactly like the hawkers in the village square on market day back in Bohemia. In no time at all we had a crowd of women around us. We hadn’t discussed a price, but it didn’t matter. The women seemed to know what was fair and were eagerly pressing their payment into Mark’s hand to ensure that they got the fish before others beat them to it. In no time the fish were all gone, and Mark had three dollars and seventy-five cents, nearly as much as he got for a day of work in the mine. It was almost entirely in scrip, only good at the company store, but his family owed so much there, they could certainly use it.
“We should have thought of this sooner,” Mark said as he counted his money. “If I can make this much money fishing each day, we just might get by until the mine’s hiring again.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t go back to the mine. Maybe you should become a fisherman,” I suggested.
He shook his head. “I don’t think there are enough fish in that creek to keep this up. But maybe I could keep it up for a few months. It’s good to have something like this to fall back on.”
I couldn’t help thinking sadly about my chickens and garden. They had been my hope for a bit extra to fall back on. I pushed away the sadness and tried to feel joy for Mark’s success. Maybe eventually he’d get paid in real money instead of scrip, and I could still talk him into buying new trousers and looking for work again. I would at least ask Mr. Torentino if he’d be willing to do me one more favor.
The next afternoon, Martina was busy, so I was alone as I waited for Mr. Torentino. Once again, I met him a short distance from the store, where Mr. Johnson wouldn’t see me. Once again, I saw Mr. Torentino’s disgruntled expression as he left the store and came in my direction. He smiled, however, when he saw me at the side of the road and pulled the horses to a stop.
“Where is your friend?” he asked.
“She couldn’t come, but I can take the boots to her,” I said. He nodded and handed me a sturdy new pair of work boots.
“I was also wondering what it might cost to get us a pair of trousers. For a friend.”
Mr. Torentino considered me for a long moment. “This seems to be turning into a habit, doesn’t it?”
“I didn’t mean for it to. But—” An idea was sparking to life in my mind, and as it formed, I let it come tumbling out. “But would it be a problem if it did?”
“Depends on who you’re asking,” he said with a glance up toward the store. Of course I knew what he meant. I had already experienced firsthand what Mr. Johnson did to competitors.
“But would there be anything wrong with it? I mean, it isn’t illegal or anything, right?”
He smiled. “It’s a free country, as they say. No, it’s not illegal. What are you thinking of, anyway?”
I swallowed and told him, even though I knew the risk. “I was thinking that there are a lot of other people in camp who need things and can’t afford them at Mr. Johnson’s store. If I brought a list each week of what was wanted, would you bring the goods?”
“Johnson won’t like that,” he said, stroking his mustache, but he sounded more amused than concerned.
“It wouldn’t really be competing with Mr. Johnson. If they don’t buy them from you, they’ll just be doing without. They can’t afford to buy them from the store.”
“I don’t know that he’d see it that way.”
“Mr. Johnson is cheating us,” I said in a sudden flare of anger. “He’s cheating you, too—I see how angry you are when you come out of there each week.”
Mr. Torentino nodded. “That’s true—some weeks I barely break even, hauling up so much that he sends back without paying for it. But what’s in this for you?”
“Well, I was thinking I could add a little to the price for my services: taking orders, picking up the goods from you, and delivering them to people. It would still be cheaper than buying things at Mr. Johnson’s store.”
“A sound plan. If you added ten percent on everything, that would add up for you.”
I nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”
Mr. Torentino’s bushy mustache twitched as his mouth curled into a grin. “How old are you?”
I bit my lip. Perhaps I should lie about my age, as Mark had done to get a job in the mine. But I didn’t like the idea of lying when Mr. Torentino had been so good to me, so I told the truth. “Nearly fourteen, sir,” I said, hoping that he wouldn’t back out when he heard how young I was.
“And this was your idea?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You have a good head for business. I never really considered taking on a girl as a business partner before.”
I drew in a breath. I hadn’t thought of it in those terms. Business partner! It sounded exciting when he put it that way.
“I’d want the money in advance,” Mr. Torentino said. “I don’t want to be hauling things up here for folks that have changed their minds. I already do too much of that. And it has to be cash. I can’t use that worthless scrip.”
“I could get the money in advance if I knew your prices.”
Mr. Torentino took a pencil and a little booklet out of his pocket. “It will have to stay to the things folks aren’t buying from the robber baron,” he said with a nod in the direction of the store. “What goods would that be?”
“Dry goods, mostly. Buckets, washtubs, pots and pans. And school’s starting soon, so plenty of mothers will be needing dress material,” I said, painfully aware of my own bare legs showing below my skirt hem.
As I listed these things and more, Mr. Torentino scribbled down prices. When I finished, he handed the booklet to me.
“There are your prices. You can write down your orders in that and give it to me with the money next week.”
I nodded excitedly. “Thank you!”
“Good luck, partner,” Mr. Torentino called as he climbed up to his seat and started his horses with a slap of the reins.
I felt triumphant as I climbed the hill back to town. I didn’t know what would come of my scheme. Maybe I could make a few dollars, maybe replace our chickens, or maybe— I stopped myself. I wasn’t going to dream—I had promised myself. I wasn’t going to be disappointed again.
The next day I set out to visit the neighbors I knew best. I explained that they could order things through me, that the goods would arrive a week after I put in the order and the prices would be reasonable. Everyone was interested, though many had no cash. A few people placed orders with me, however. Most families had hoarded away a little cash for emergencies, and they were willing to use it to get a bargain. Gradually over the week, my list grew. By the following Monday, I had a list of twenty items. I met Mr. Torentino and gave him my list and eighteen dollars, keeping one dollar and eighty cents for myself on my first order.
Mr. Torentino looked over the list, and I could see he was impressed. “This is a good start,” he said. “Bring someone with you next week, so you can carry it all.”
He tipped his hat and drove away, and I walked home jingling my money in my pocket. I hadn’t told my plan to anyone in my family—I didn’t want to disappoint them again—but Aneshka caught me putting my money in the can on the kitchen she lf.
“Where did you get that?” she demanded.
“Um—it’s the change from going to the store this afternoon,” I said. But I had hesitated too long in coming up with an explanation, and she knew it. She glared at me, demanding the truth. Holena stood in the doorway behind her.
“Let’s go out to the garden,” I said. I picked up a basket and we walked out to the sprawling patch of cucumbers. I bent and started picking.
“Well?” Aneshka said, her hands on her hips.
I explained the plan to her. “But you can’t tell anyone!” I said as I finished.
“But we have to tell people,�
� she protested. “How else will they know to buy from you?”
She had a point. “Mostly don’t tell Momma or Mr. Johnson.”
“Momma’s going to notice the extra money in the can,” Holena said.
“We won’t put it in the can,” Aneshka said. She ran into the house and returned carrying an old cigar box that she kept under our bed. It was where she kept her treasures, but she had dumped those things out and the box was empty. “We will keep it in here, and when we have enough to buy a farm, we will surprise Momma and Papa with it.”
“Aneshka.” I wanted to stop her before she got her hopes up again, but it was already too late for that. Hope was shining out from both girls’ eyes. “This won’t get us a farm. I won’t be making that much money.”
Aneshka wasn’t listening; she was already headed back into the house to get the money from the can. I looked at Holena, hoping she would understand. She only grasped me in a hug.
“Thank you, Trina,” she said.
“For what?”
“For believing in your wish again so it can finally come true.”
I held her to me, filled with fear for her. What a huge responsibility my wish had become.
Chapter 19
MY NEW PLAN was the worst-kept secret in the world, thanks to Aneshka. She made sure everyone had a chance to order from me, and I think that she nagged a few of them into doing so. Nearly every day, someone would come looking for me, and I would take my little booklet and my pencil from my pocket to record his or her order. Momma could not be kept in the dark under such circumstances, but I was vague on the details of the arrangement. After all, I wasn’t that sure of the plan myself. I made a few dollars the first few weeks, but since we had agreed to sell only dry goods, I doubted business would continue. After all, how often did a family need a new bucket? Besides, since I could only take cash, and the mine had been paying mainly in scrip all summer, it couldn’t hold out much longer.
I tried to explain this to Aneshka so she wouldn’t be disappointed, but she only accused me of giving up, so I left her alone. She and Holena would accompany me to pick up the goods and deliver them, and I let Aneshka take charge of the money, since she had designated her treasure box as our bank. She and Holena had even cut pictures of farms and advertisements for land out of Papa’s newspapers and pasted them onto the box. I paid little attention. I helped them add up the total each week and determine our portion, and I kept the money that had to go to Mr. Torentino, but I left the rest to my sisters. The temptation to dream of a farm crept into my head occasionally. To resist it, I spent as much time with Mark as I could. He was at the mine asking for work every day, and occasionally they did have odd jobs for him. When they did not, he fished.
As he predicted, his catch steadily dwindled, but even so, he was doing better business than I was, since he was willing to take payment in scrip. His family was gradually paying off some of their debt and he was once again talking of all the things we would do in the future. I listened and tried to smile at his dreams, even though none of them were big enough to get us out of the coal camp. I knew he was being practical. I knew, too, that I should be—his modest plans would not hurt anyone, and yet I couldn’t get rid of a growing dissatisfaction. I loved Mark as much as ever, but a hollow feeling inside me would not go away when I thought of our future together in the coal camp.
The new school term was quickly approaching, and the question of dresses plagued my mother. One Tuesday afternoon, after Momma and I had finished the ironing, Momma took down the money can and dumped its contents out on the kitchen table. She counted through it and shook her head.
“I don’t know how we’ll manage school dresses, with Holena starting this year.”
“Mr. Torentino can sell us the cloth for less than the company store,” Aneshka said.
“That may be,” Momma said, “but even so . . . She went to the small pantry cupboard and took out the stack of flour sacks she’d been saving. They were a thin cotton, but printed with pretty flower patterns. Momma sorted out those that were enough alike to go together.
“We can make Aneshka a new dress from these, and Holena can have Aneshka’s school dress, with a little mending. But Trina’s bursting out of that dress everywhere, and we don’t have enough flour sacks for that,” Momma said. “We will just have to buy fabric on credit, I suppose. I don’t know what else to do.”
I looked meaningfully at Aneshka, but she refused to meet my eyes, so I spoke up. “We have some money, Momma. From working for Mr. Torentino. It’s in Aneshka’s box.”
“But that’s for our farm!” Aneshka protested.
Momma raised her eyebrows and looked at me. “For a farm?”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t my idea,” I said.
“Yes it was! It was your wish!” Aneshka said.
“We need the money now,” I insisted.
“Why, just so you can get a new dress?” Aneshka scowled at me.
“Show me this money,” Momma broke in.
Aneshka could not disobey Momma, so she retrieved the box. She set it on the table and Momma opened it. I gasped at the same time Momma did when we saw the contents. I knew the money had been accumulating, but seeing it all together startled me.
Momma counted it, laying it out on the table in neat rows.
“Fourteen dollars!” she said when she finished. She looked from the money to me and back to the money with an expression of bewilderment. “How on earth did you get so much money?”
“I told you, we’ve been delivering goods for Mr. Torentino. From his store in Trinidad.”
She frowned. “Yes, that’s what you told me, but delivery girls don’t make this much money. What is really going on, Trina?”
I told her the details of the business, omitting any mention of Mr. Johnson’s anger that had inspired it. I had been careful to avoid him since we had started the deliveries, but word of my business had spread around camp. I was pretty sure Mr. Johnson had heard, or at least suspected. I had never told my parents of his role in destroying my previous plans, or even that he harbored a grudge against me. I saw no point in bringing that up now. Especially since I expected my mother to be angry enough with us as it was. Nervously I tried to read her mood as I explained, but her expression remained closed. She kept staring at the pile of money.
“How long have you been doing this?” she asked at last.
“Four weeks,” I said.
“Four weeks,” she repeated thoughtfully. “You have saved fourteen dollars in only four weeks?”
“It’s been going up every week, too,” Aneshka said proudly. “This week we made almost six dollars, and Trina’s already taken two orders for next week.”
“I had no idea,” Momma said. “Who orders from you?”
“Mostly our neighbors,” I said quickly. “And sometimes people find me after church.”
“If we went across the tracks, we could make a lot more,” Aneshka said.
I shot her a warning glance. Momma had a strict rule that my sisters and I were never to cross the tracks that ran through the middle of the coal town. The houses on the other side were exactly like our own, but we didn’t mix with the Welsh and Scottish families who lived there. Even at school we avoided those children. Rumor had it, the Scots collaborated with the mine officials. They would betray union organizers or troublemakers to the bosses. And Papa said a Welshman was at fault in the accident that had crushed Old Jan’s leg, as they so often were. Even if they could be trusted, we had a hard time understanding their English, and they ours, so it seemed best for everyone if we didn’t mix.
“You mean you have made all this from only this side of town?” Momma asked.
“Mostly. It’s enough for dresses, isn’t it?” I said, trying to return the conversation to the safety of our original topic.
“Yes, it’s certainly enough for that,” Momma said, but the tone in her voice was one I didn’t recognize. She turned to Aneshka with a smile. “Run along and play,”
she said. “We will work on dresses later. You too, Holena.”
It was all too clear that, though my sisters were being dismissed, I was not. Aneshka noticed too, and she gave me one more hard glare before taking Holena’s hand and leaving the kitchen.
“Does Marek know of these plans?” Momma asked when we were alone.
“Momma, I didn’t tell Aneshka to save for a farm. I haven’t said anything about it—it’s her idea.”
“But the orders, the deal with Mr. Torentino, that was all your doing.”
“Mark knows of all that. In fact, he gave me the idea,” I said. “But I wasn’t really doing it for the farm. I’ve learned my lesson about those kinds of dreams.”
Momma wasn’t looking at me. Her eyes were on Aneshka’s box and the advertisements my sisters had pasted there. Momma couldn’t read the English text, but she could certainly read the prices. When she spoke, it wasn’t directed at me so much as thinking out loud.
“Fourteen dollars in just four weeks, and just on this side of town, when the mine isn’t even at full production—” She paused and seemed to be adding in her head. “If we can save this much now, by the end of the year . . .”
I stared at her, my mouth open. “Do you mean—Momma, do you think by the end of the year we would have enough for something big?”
“Everyone here needs more than they can name, but we’re all scrimping to get by. Come fall, when work picks up again, people will be buying more. Everyone in town is counting the days till the mine is in full production and giving out cash payments again to get what we are doing without for now. And the bachelors will be back, and they are looser with their money than families are. In another month or two your business will boom, I think.”
“Enough to buy a farm?”
Momma’s eyes snapped up to my face, as if the mention of a farm had startled her awake. Her expression hardened.
“You have to tell Marek of this. You know he has no interest in being a farmer. You shouldn’t be thinking of a farm, either. You should be setting a share of these earnings aside to set up a household when you marry. Whatever plans you are making, you should be making them with him.”
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