Trapper Boy (14 page)

Chapter 39

B
eth looked up the hill hoping to see JW. She didn't know his plan had been to go to school directly from work. She would have to leave in another minute. As the seconds sped by, she kept her eyes focused on the top of the hill overlooking her house. Saddened, she started on her trek to school. She walked slowly, as she held out hope that he was simply running late and could still make it. Once she saw the school come into view, she knew he would not attend today. She also knew that it was unlikely he would be back this year. Beth looked over her shoulder one last time as she climbed the steps to the school. Mr. Cantwell glanced past her when she entered the room – he too hoped John Wallace would be there. Beth shook her head and took her seat. The bell rang to signal the start of the first class and the start of the all-important math test.

Chapter 40

B
y noontime, JW was feeling tired, so he was glad to see Red coming toward him with a boy following closely behind. The introductions were made and JW started on his way to the surface. He heard Red call out.

“Are you on your way to school then?”

“No, it's too late. I think I'm all done with that now. See you later.” He was too tired to care and just wanted to wash up and go home and sleep until it was time to go to work again. With his father working today, he would have to remember to get in some coal and wood before going to bed.

There was a chill in the air as he trudged along the road. He didn't lift his eyes to marvel at the clouds filled to bursting with rain or possibly snow. He kicked a few pebbles as he walked and didn't hear Gulliver until he was beside him. “Hiya, boy. Always good to see you.” Gulliver's nose tapped JW's hand the rest of the way home; he wanted his master to pet him. JW stopped and knelt down beside his friend and hugged him, petting his shoulders and head. All was right with the world for Gulliver. JW's satchel banged heavily against his thigh. It was filled with school books, pictures and things he had picked up here and there. He would empty most of its contents today. He still wanted to use it to carry his lunch.

Lightning moved aside as JW cleaned out his stall, and he stood still while being brushed. The horse's winter coat, getting thicker, gleamed with each stroke of the brush. There was no sign of Tennyson this morning. Perhaps he had found a mate, or at least some place warm to sleep away his days. The wind had picked up, and JW was glad he and his father had done some repairs to the barn the past summer. At least Lightning and Tennyson would be warm this winter. JW dropped some oats on the floor in case Tennyson was having difficulty finding food. He pitched some hay for Lightning, petted him and headed toward the woodpile. He heard the back door open and saw his mother standing there.

“Your father already brought in the coal and wood I'll be needing for the day. Why aren't you in school?”

JW told her about Patty's grandpa, and she said she was sorry to hear about old Amos but said that he'd had a good, long life and that he had seemed old even when she had been a girl.

“I'm so sorry you missed today, but tomorrow's another day. Try again then.”

“You know, Ma, I think I'll just concentrate on getting sleep and doing my job. It's not working out trying to do both.”

“But you've been doing grand so far. Beth's been bringing the lessons you need and helping with the notes and all.”

“I know, Ma, and you and Da have been helping me too. I can't keep expecting Beth to bring my homework every other day. Soon, there'll be a foot or two of snow down, and she can't make that walk all the time. No, I think it's best if I just get used to the idea of work. Besides,” he said in a more upbeat voice, “I already asked Da to teach me how to swing a pick, so I can move off the trap door. Don't want to be a trapper boy all my life,” he said, forcing a laugh and sitting down at the kitchen table. He was hungry and ate a good meal, washing the eggs down with some hot tea.

“Thanks, Ma, that was great. If I'm not up by nine-thirty you better wake me.” As he started up the stairs, he turned to his mother. “Please tell Beth thanks for everything, but that I won't be going to school anymore. I don't want her wasting her time bringing the lessons. Tell her I'll see her on my next day off. Goodnight, Ma.”

—

Mary Donaldson watched as John Wallace walked up the stairs then sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of her. Prayers and thoughts of what could be done to help her son ran through her mind. The tea turned cold and she poured it out. The stew wouldn't cook itself, so she began the preparation for the evening meal.

Chapter 41

“H
i, Beth.”

Beth turned to see who had spoken. Davey Brown stood close to the door. “Oh hi, Davey,” Beth said.

“I thought JW was coming today.”

“I thought so too, but I guess he was just too tired after working all night. I know he was planning on being here.”

“Perhaps he should have taken the night off. This was an important test,” Davey said.

“He's not working there because he wants to!” Beth said defensively.

“The shifts have been cut by the mine owners, so it takes both John Wallace and his father working to barely scrape by. He wanted to go to college and travel the world. I never thought he'd have to go underground.” Tears welled up, and Beth turned her head and blinked them away. She picked up her books and walked from the room and down the stairs.

Davey watched her go, sad that he had upset her and wishing there was something he could do to help.

Chapter 42

A
ndrew swung the pick with more force than needed, and a large piece of the roof came free. He stepped out of the way quickly. His adrenaline was pumping. He just wanted the shift to be over so he could get home. He thought maybe he could work JW's shifts for him, but they were quite often the same as his own, and any others would mean working a double. That wasn't the answer. He swung again and grunted as the pick buried itself in the coal. He pulled and twisted it free, then swung again and more coal fell to the floor.

“Swinging a little hard, aren't you, Andy?” Red said from behind him.

“I s'pose I might be, a little,” Andrew said.

“Something bothering you?”

“Yeah. JW should be in school and not down here with the likes of Shawn McGuire, or me for that matter. With the way the work is being cut back, soon Mary will have to find a job too.”

“I can't say I'm gonna miss this place. Well, maybe a little, but I've worked as much as I've wanted since becoming shift boss. I don't know how you're making do on the few shifts coming your way,” Red said.

“That's why my boy's down here.”

“I gotta few weeks left, then it's off to do some fishing. I don't plan on missing too many sun-ups or sundowns. I'm gonna sleep nights and enjoy the days.”

“I hope you do just that. You deserve a good retirement. You'll surely be missed. God help us with who'll replace you,” Andrew said.

“I was wanting to ask your thoughts on that very thing. Soon as you pull a bit more from the ceiling, let's have a talk.”

Andrew swung the pick and watched the last of the ceiling break free. He put down his pick, and walked to where Red stood waiting.

Chapter 43

JW
fell into the rhythm of working and sleeping. Before long, Patty returned to work. He told JW that he had been a little nervous standing next to the body of his granddad and that his cousin had told him he'd seen his hand move. But that then he'd remembered that his granddad had always taken him fishing and for walks in the woods, and after that he was no longer afraid. JW was a little nervous himself that night and spent much of it looking behind him and peering into the shadows, hoping Patty's granddad didn't make an appearance.

He hadn't spoken to Beth since deciding to give up on school, but he'd seen her from a distance, walking with Davey Brown. He hoped he and Beth could still be friends even though he was not in school, but he realized that their paths would be very different from now on. The thought saddened him. The satchel at his side was much lighter these days, now that he was no longer carrying school books in it. He used it mostly to carry his lunch. He had decided to leave the pictures of the mine in the satchel, the ones that his father had drawn. He wanted to keep them close by so that he could familiarize himself with the workings of the mine. If he was going to be stuck down there, he wanted to know as much as his father did.

JW knew that it would take time to learn all he wanted to know, but in the short time he'd been there he managed to get used to the trap door, and the rats no longer scared him. He hoped he could move to shovelling coal soon, but for now he was content to work the trap. He lit his headlamp and pulled the pictures from the satchel. They truly did lay out the mine very well. He heard the sound of sleigh bells and was pleased to see Smitty round the turn. He shoved the pictures back in his satchel and walked to the door.

“Sorry to hear you had to leave school, son,” Smitty said.

“Thanks,” JW said. “I would have liked to have been able to stay, but there was no way I could. Maybe I'll try again next year.”

“Sure, that might work,” Smitty said, though they both knew that was unlikely. The pause that followed stretched to almost a minute before JW spoke.

“But, I'm going to make the most of the this year and try to learn everything about working down here.”

“That's the best thing to do then. Remember to keep reading, and if you already have the school books, keep reading those, so you'll be ready for next year. You'll do fine down here. Just be sure to keep your eyes open.” Lowering his voice, Smitty added, “There's more like Shawn McGuire that work underground, so be on your guard, and keep your eyes open.” He pulled up on the reins, and JW opened the trap door to let him through.

He watched for a moment as Smitty and the horse went out of sight before closing the door. He thought about Smitty's advice, or was it perhaps a warning? He would be sure to keep his eyes open, both on his job as a trapper boy and to watch out for the not-so-nice characters. He remembered Red had told him much the same thing:
Not all the fellas you meet down here are friendly-like
.

He heard the men coming and was glad the shift was over. He waved to his father, who was working the day shift. Washing up and the walk home were tedious but all part of his job. He saw Gulliver coming from a long way off, and the dog stayed by his side as he cleaned Lightning's stall and cut some kindling. JW returned to the barn with some split logs. He had decided to pile some of them inside to keep them dry, as there was lots of room in the barn. He saw Tennyson move out from behind the logs. His limp was barely noticeable. It would never be gone, but it was much better. Before JW realized what was happening, Tennyson bristled and Gulliver lunged for him.

“No, Gulliver! Don't!” Gulliver stopped, but Tennyson kept coming, and JW had to scoop him from the floor before Gulliver hurt or killed him.

“Hold on, you two. You'll have to learn to live together.” JW held Tennyson and let Gulliver sniff him to get his scent. Tennyson pushed against JW's hand, trying to get away. After a few moments the rat calmed down, and JW laid him on the floor, where the rat ate some oats before scurrying back to his home behind the woodpile. Gulliver looked anxiously toward the spot where Tennyson had gone, but JW knelt beside the dog and petted his head as he asked him to be nice to Tennyson. JW left the barn, hoping for the best. His mother was hanging out the wash, her hands red from the cold October wind. She was humming a tune as she pulled the bedclothes from the pail.

“I'll get you a bite to eat in a moment, dear.”

“I'll fix myself some porridge, Ma. Want a hand with the clothes?”

“Thanks just the same, dear, but I can manage. If you wait a few minutes, I'll fix you a proper breakfast too.”

“I'm not going to school, so I can make my own. Besides, I like porridge. I think it helps me sleep better.”

“If you don't mind then, that'll be a help,” his mother said and smiled.

With the porridge eaten and the dishes in the sink, JW went to his room. He pulled the pictures from the satchel and laid them out on the floor. He blew the dust off, and when he assembled them in the proper order they showed the entire working of the mine. Having spent the past month and a half underground, JW better understood what the pictures represented and how each job was interconnected. He thought about the men pulling the coal from the earth and how it was transported along tracks, through the trap door, to the surface. The young breaker boys waited to pull the rocks and shale from the coal. Many of them, like Patty, waited for an opportunity to work below as a trapper boy, and if they were lucky and their hands intact, they might go on to be full-fledged miners some day. For some it would happen, but for others, perhaps with injured hands, it was only a dream. It was a nightmare for JW – and it seemed that it would be a recurring one for years to come.

His hands traced over the pictures and he took a moment to appreciate the talent his father possessed. He had never known before that his father could draw so well and that it had been JW's grandfather who had taught him.

JW hadn't realized that the iron and leather products, made by his grandfather, were sketched prior to being completed. He also learned that his father had considered becoming a blacksmith, like his own father. Perhaps there was a lot more he didn't know about his father and mother. He wondered what their dreams had been.

Working in the mines would kill dreams in a hurry. There was little time to dream when you always had to have your eyes open. He figured his mother's dreams were tempered by the lack of money coming into the household. JW put the pictures back in his satchel, and got ready for bed. As soon as he lay down, he felt the comforting arms of sleep envelope him, and he slept soundly until the sound of his mother's footsteps rushed up the stairs.

“John Wallace! Get up, dear! There's been a cave-in at the mine. You have to go help. Hurry along. There's men trapped.”

JW pulled his clothes on, rushed down the stairs and was on his way out the door when his mother called to him.

“Take this with you,” she said, handing him his satchel. “It's your lunch. You could be there all night. Please be careful.” She hugged him and kissed his cheek before he headed out the door and on his way to the mine. He noticed the prayer book in her hands.

JW could hear the commotion as he arrived at the wash house. Red was there barking orders, trying to keep the men organized. A mine rescue crew headed down the travelling way, as a few men came up to report the damage. JW stood by, listening as one of the men spoke. “There's six men trapped. Smitty, Shawn McGuire, his son Mickey, two new fellas, and Andy. It's mostly Tunnel Seven. The roof let go and a couple of the timbers cracked. There must be close to a hundred ton of coal in the tunnel! What little air there is in there won't last long.”

Red noticed JW standing behind him. “We can't be sure. There could be an air pocket in there to last a while.” The man who had spoken first saw JW and quickly agreed with Red.

“Sure, probably could be some air in there.”

JW knew they were trying not to alarm him, but he also knew that he had to get below to try to help his father and the other men. He grabbed a pick and shovel and headed down the tunnel. He heard Red call to him, but he ignored him. He had to try to help his father. Patty was at the trap door when JW arrived.

“Sorry 'bout your pa,” Patty said.

“What do you mean?”

“Him and the rest all trapped in the tunnel with no way out. Sorry.”

“Open the door, Patty. I gotta go and help get them out.” JW rushed along the track and saw several men shovelling coal from the face of the tunnel. He realized the man hadn't exaggerated the amount of coal. There could be a hundred ton filling the tunnel. There was only a narrow passageway for the men to work in their rescue effort, and all were able to swing a pick and use a shovel better than he. He knew he would only slow them down.

JW stood for a moment, praying, watching the men, trying to stay out of their way. He felt he had to do something and scraped some of the coal away. The speed of the pan shovels increased as the men raced against time to free their friends. Suddenly, they stopped shovelling, and one man brushed away some coal. Then JW heard the tinkling of bells and saw the head of Smitty's horse as the miner uncovered it. The looks exchanged between the two shovellers sent a wave of fear through JW. He guessed it would take close to half an hour to uncover the body of the horse. Then they still had to move it out of their way in order to resume their rescue attempt.

JW watched for another minute or so, then hurried deeper into the mine, away from the tunnel where his father and others were trapped, perhaps hurt or dying. He tried to push the thought from his mind as he carried the pick and dragged the shovel along behind him, metal on metal as it clanged against the rail. His satchel tapped against his leg. He slowed as he neared the tunnel where he and Mickey had gone on their treasure hunt. It was all worked out and abandoned, but he knew it was close to the other end of Tunnel Seven. He believed that only three or four feet separated the tunnels. His mind raced as he wondered what to do next.

JW pulled the pictures from his satchel, and turned up the flame on his headlamp. He scanned them briefly then put them away and grabbed the pick. He looked to his left, then to his right, searching the wall for a place to begin. Hoping he'd made the right choice, he swung the pick with all his might. He hadn't used a pick much, and it stuck deep into the wall. Working it up and down, he managed to wrench it free. The next swing, he used a little less force, and a piece of the wall broke away. He continued to swing at an angle, and bigger pieces gave way.

JW's first concern was to try to break a hole through to provide air into the tunnel. He had to chip away a huge piece of the wall in order to be able to dig deeper. He dug closer to the floor so that the roof would hold. The last thing he wanted was to cause another cave-in. He guessed that he was about two feet deep in his digging when he thought he heard a tapping sound coming from behind the wall. Adrenaline surging through his body caused him to swing the pick too hard, and it lodged deep into the wall. Pulling the pick out, he swung again, and this time saw a large portion break free. He listened again and knew he could hear tapping, as he heard the sound from the other side grow louder.

Suddenly, some coal fell toward him, and JW realized that someone was digging from the other side. A pick head came through the opening. He stepped back in surprise, as Shawn McGuire scurried through the small hole, followed by the two new men, who appeared shaken. “Thank you, thank you,” they both said. Mickey was next through and then Smitty. JW held his breath until he finally saw his father emerge from the tunnel. He hugged his father, almost lifting him off the ground.

“So it was you that figured how to get us out,” his father said. “How?”

“Mickey and I went exploring one night, and when we came to this point I could hear sound coming through the wall. I spent this morning looking at the pictures you drew, and I remembered where the tunnels almost converge.”

Excitement filled the air as Smitty and Mickey came over, clapping him on the shoulders, thanking him. Finally Shawn McGuire said, “Thanks, boy. You done real good.” This was high praise from Mickey's father, who had been nothing but misearable to JW before now.

Bobbing lights came toward them as Red, Mr. Brown, the mine manager, and another man in a suit and tie arrived. There were looks of relief on their faces as Red counted the six men who had been trapped. “Thank God,” Red said. Mickey piped up, “Yes, Red, and you can thank JW too. He's the one got us out. Him and his pa.”