A Million Tears (47 page)

‘This looks interesting,’ said Sion and Bill nodded in agreement. ‘Shall we get something to eat here?’ Sniffing the air he said, ‘Whatever’s cooking back there smells good.’ From behind a beaded curtain a young girl came out, picked up a menu from the bar and walked across the room.

Sion handed the menu back to the girl with an order for two plates of sauerkraut and sausage. ‘And can we have two beers, please?’

She frowned but said nothing and went back into the kitchen. A few moments later a big bellied man came from the kitchen to their table. ‘Can’t serve you. You must leave please.’ He crossed his arms and looked sternly at them.

‘No. It was decided that it’s not good for young gentlemen,’ he spat on the floor, ‘to eat in a Polack’s place and to eat Polack’s food. So you’ve got to go. Or else I’m in trouble.’

‘Wait a moment. Surely it’s us that’ll be in trouble? We’re the ones breaking the rules, not you.’

‘If you don’t go the law will come and close us down. They say that this place is a bad influence on young Americans.’ He grimaced as though he had a bad taste in his mouth.

‘Because we are Polacks, as you people call us. They say we are trouble makers. Now go before I get mad.’ He scowled even more and the boys got to their feet. As they did so, one of the customers said something in Polish and the barman shrugged and spoke to them again.

‘Sit down a minute. You’re going to have a beer before you go. My name is Joseph and I’m going to tell you something. We’re from Poland. We came over here to escape from the persecution that exists in our motherland; we came to the country of the so called free. Most of the immigrants ended up in the mining area of Pittsburgh. Do you know where I mean?’

Both boys nodded.

‘There I started a school and we got on fine for a couple of years. I made about what the men in the mines were making, charging them for English lessons. We found that if the miners – and I mean only the new immigrant miners like we Poles – did not give a backhander to the manager of the mine they would have no job.’

‘That’s terrible. What happened? Did you do anything about it?’ asked Sion.

‘We tried to complain but it didn’t get us anywhere. In fact it made matters worse. So some of us left Pittsburgh and we came here.’

‘My Dad told me a lot about what it was like when he was a miner.’ Sion went on to tell them about the disaster with the slag heap and Sian’s death and in particular the hatred felt by the miners for the bosses and owners. ‘I get really angry when I think about the injustice of it all. I wish I could do something about it. I guess that’s why Dad is so interested in politics. He figures it’s the only way to get things done. One day he might even run for Congress. But that still doesn’t explain why we can’t come in here.’

‘It’s simple. Because we’re Polish. Because there are rumours around the town about what happened in Pittsburgh. Because we are called anarchists and anti-American. So there’s a ban on all students visiting the place.’

‘How about us going across to Colin’s and seeing if he’s got a spare beer?’ They swerved towards Seymore block. ‘You know I’d like to do something for the Poles. Show them that we support them.’

Bill squeezed Sion’s shoulder in agreement.

They sat in Colin’s room sipping beer and telling him what had happened.

‘I knew about it,’ said Colin, ‘but didn’t know all the details. You guys want to remember something, it’s big business that runs this country and not justice and fair play like it says in the books.’

Sion frowned for a moment and then said: ‘Why not fight power with power? Listen. How many guys would like to use that place? It’s cheap and has a pleasant atmosphere. Right?’ Colin and Bill nodded. ‘Okay. Say we got enough of the men interested and we all just went. Told the Dean that we don’t agree with the ban and that he had no right to stop us going. What would happen then? After all, if he took any action against any of us and we all stuck together what could he do? Send us all down?’

‘How about shutting the place down?’ suggested Colin, Bill nodding in agreement.

‘Same thing. We stick together and threaten to leave en masse if he does that. I reckon we could get away with it, you know. If there’s any problems we use our influence, perhaps get our fathers to help, threaten to leave, anything like that,’ Sion finished lamely.

Colin and Bill continued with their head shaking and Colin explained, ‘I agree with the sentiment Sion but I don’t think there’s much we can do about it.’

On that note the two left for their own room. Sion lay awake well into the night and from time to time a boiling rage flared up in him at the injustice of it all.

He did not bring up the subject again and so it came as a surprise when Colin said to him and Bill, ‘By the way, I talked things over with some of the others and forcing the Dean into something he doesn’t like rather appeals to them.’

They looked at him puzzled. ‘What are you talking about?’ asked Sion, while Bill’s fingers and hands flashed the same question at Sion.

‘You know that when his grandfather died he was left twenty five percent of the shares in his father’s companies and at the ripe old age of twenty one he’ll be on the board? So he’ll have a lot of influence. If he learns enough about what happened in Pittsburgh he may be able to help the miners there in the future. So this is not just about a small restaurant owner in a small town.’

They talked football for a while. Although Sion was no longer playing he and Bill now helped to manage the team

– arranging games and transport whenever necessary.

It was the last Friday of November when twenty or more students left the university and made their way into town. The restaurant was empty when they went in and grabbed tables close together. A few seconds later, hearing the noise of scraping chairs the girl came from the kitchen and called her father.

‘What’s wrong n . . .’ he stopped in astonishment, took a pace forward and then halted when Colin and another half dozen came in.

Sion suddenly took heart. ‘Beers all round please, Joseph.’

Joseph hesitated and then shrugged his shoulders. When one of them asked for a menu the others quickly followed. Joseph was unsure whether to laugh or be worried. He chose the former.

The conversation was brittle, the laughter forced and the attempts at joking a strain to begin with. But the more beer they drank the more relaxed they became.

Joseph said to Sion, ‘I suppose this was your idea, eh?’

Sion shrugged and looked embarrassed. Joseph also shrugged, smiled and went to serve at another table. When he returned he said to Sion and Bill, ‘You know that this will not last. That they will give in?’ Joseph waved his hand indicating the others in the restaurant.

‘They won’t,’ said Sion. ‘We’ve got the football team here and they’re pretty tough guys. They’ll stick it out.’

Joseph was not to be stopped. ‘Football is a game which bears no relation to real life. After a hard game you can leave the field and forget about it, or talk about it over a beer. You can’t do that in real life. There’s nowhere to hide. Do you understand?’

Joseph shrugged. ‘It’s nice to know that at least there’s one person outside our little community who, shall we say, sees our point of view?’

Sion did not remember the walk home. Later he lay wide awake worrying about Joseph and his friends. If he had been in his third year he might have been able to wield more influence. Influence . . . That was an important word for what he was trying to do. He needed more authority, needed to be more powerful. Yes, that was what it took. If he had an important position, like captain of the football team, then he could possibly influence the men more. There it was again. The same word. It was all intermingled. If he was rich and powerful . . . He eventually fell asleep.

In December Sion realised that Bill had nowhere to go for Christmas and wrote a note to his parents informing them he would be bringing a guest.

In reply Sion received a letter from Evan telling him to be careful in his dealings in connection with Joseph and not to antagonise the Dean unduly. Evan went on to say that although he agreed with what Sion was trying to do he felt Sion should wait until he had graduated before he took on the establishment.

After he read it Sion showed the letter to Bill. ‘It annoys me that my father agrees with what I’m doing and in the next sentence tells me to stop. I can believe in things as strongly as he does. Why wait until I’m older?’

Bill interrupted him and wrote:- Wait Sion. Your father agrees. He did not say stop only be careful. He’s right. What good will it do if you’re expelled? None whatsoever. We have our victory. We use the place as we please. Nothing is said. What are you aiming for now? A public apology to Joseph for the way he has been treated?

Sheepishly Sion shook his head and then his mood lifted. ‘I guess not. Roll on the holidays. It won’t be long now and we’ll have three whole weeks of freedom and fun.’

Except for the homework we’re being set, Bill signalled.

With constant practice Sion was now becoming adept at reading Bill’s signals though he often had to guess the full meaning.

The next two weeks brought snow and freezing nights. They both studied hard and were pleased with their end of semester test results. On the last day before their holiday the countryside gleamed white under the bright sun and clear blue sky. There was much excitement and boisterous laughter while the undergraduates prepared to leave. Sion and Bill arrived at Columbus far too early for their train and spent the afternoon in a local hotel drinking coffee. The time dragged, but finally it was time to catch their train.

Meg and Evan met them in St Louis the next day and for the first time in his life Sion was embarrassed when Meg kissed him.

‘This place hasn’t changed much,’ said Sion, half disgustedly, looking around while they drove through the town.

‘What did you expect after only a few months?’ asked Evan, smiling. ‘Is this your first time in this part of the country?’ he asked Bill. Bill nodded and signalled to Sion.

‘Nothing, really,’ replied Sion. ‘It’s just that I’ve got into the habit of changing the words he signals to me into . . . sort of better prose, I guess that’s the only way to describe it. Anyway, Bill tells me I put what he wants to say more eloquently than if he could still speak.’

His parents smiled tentatively at one another, unsure whether they should bring more attention to Bill’s injury or ignore it. Bill signalled.

‘Bill says not to worry about talking about what happened. He says it doesn’t bother or embarrass him. He says I can tell you if I wish but I reckon you know everything from the letters I wrote you.’

‘He’s arriving tomorrow,’ his father replied. ‘You don’t think anything will keep him away from Gunhild, do you?’ Evan winked at him.

‘Oh, it’s serious is it?’

‘It looks like it. I’m sure he spends more time writing to her than he does on his studies,’ Evan said and then sighed. ‘Another good man gone.’

‘Dad, Dad,’ Sion said with mock sadness, ‘it’s not too late, is it? I mean, isn’t there something we can do to save him from this fate worse than death? I know,’ Sion snapped his fingers, ‘we can send him to join the French Foreign Legion. That would be much better than, ugh, marrying.’

‘All right, all right you clowns, that’ll do,’ said Meg, that’ll do. ‘I think she’s a very nice girl and will be just right for David. In a few years time, of course,’ she added.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Sion, ‘I thought you were already helping to plan the wedding. How many bridesmaids will there be?’