Trapper Boy (7 page)

All of the men's faces were as black as the coal they mined, and their bodies matched the colour. JW was surprised to see that the coal dust had blackened his body as well. Taking the soap his father had given him, JW stood beneath the water and tried to wash away the night's dirt.

It was seven-thirty by the time they headed toward home. The warm September morning drove away the chill from the pit. JW learned that he would wear his regular clothes to the pit, and change into his work clothes, which were left at the mine. He would take them home weekly for washing and mending. He told his father about the rats and the one that had gone up his pant leg.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you to tie off your pant legs. We'll make sure you do that tonight.”

“I did some scrambling and dancing with that in my pants. But I threw it against the wall, and it seemed like it hurt its leg,” JW said.

“A lot of men hit them with their shovels because they're just as afraid of them as you are.”

JW couldn't imagine killing the rats that were only seeking food, but if they crawled up his pant leg again, he might reconsider his beliefs.

The walk home was fast. Gulliver ran to meet them and was pleased to see his young master. His nose tapped against JW's hand as he sought to be petted.

Fried eggs were waiting for JW and his father when they got home, and he realized that his mother had to collect the eggs this morning. With him in the coal mine, extra work fell to her. Coal and kindling were beside the stove. With the thought of entering the pit for the first time, he had forgotten to get it in last evening.

“Hi, Ma. Porridge would have been fine,” JW said, as he dropped into a chair.

“You're a working man now, so you need a big supper,” his mother said.

JW was used to calling his father's morning meal “supper,” but it was the first time for him. He ate his food quickly and was back on the road toward school by twenty minutes past eight.

Chapter 19

W
hen he reached the hill above Beth's house, JW saw she was waiting for him.

“How was it? Were you scared? Of course not,” Beth said before he had a chance to answer. “So tell me, how was it?” she asked again, excitement present in her voice.

“Well, there's lots of rats down there, and they sure are hungry. One near ate my leg,” JW told her, watching as Beth's eyes opened wide.

“Near ate your leg?” Beth said and waited.

“Well, not really. But one did crawl up my pant leg. I'll be sure to tuck my pants in my boots tonight and tie a string around them.”

“Is it very dark underground? What do you have to do?” Beth asked.

“It's dark as pitch, but the oil lamp helps a bit. I have to control the air in the tunnel by opening and closing the trap door. So you have to be ready when the horses are coming through,” he explained. “I met a nice fellow. Red Angus is his name. He told me everyone in the pit has a nickname. He gave me one.”

As they walked, he looked at the sun and realized how lucky he'd been before entering the pit. The air smelled fresher, and he paid special attention to the birds singing.

“Well, are you going to tell me your nickname, or is it a secret, some kind of code?” Beth said, smiling at him.

“JW,” he said.

“What?” Beth said.

“JW. That's my nickname.”

“Pretty much everyone calls you that,” Beth said.

“I know that, but he doesn't.”

The schoolyard was filled with students, many of whom were returning for their second and third years. A large group of grade nine students stood off to one corner of the yard. He and Beth hurried over.

JW listened as Beth told some of the other kids that he was working in the mine. There were some sad faces as his friends digested the news. He hoped classes would soon begin. He was tired from standing around, especially after spending all night on his feet. The ringing of the bell was music to his ears, and he joined the crowd as they shuffled toward the double doors that led to the high school.

Orientation took twenty minutes, followed by English class. JW listened with interest to the poetry and paid close attention to the titles of the books he would have to read throughout the year. French class seemed like a continuation of last year, building on grammar and conversation.

When the final morning class arrived, JW felt his eyes closing against his will. Trying desperately to remain alert but losing the battle, he thought the algebra being taught seemed to him like a new language. Finally, the bell rang for lunch, and he sought out Beth.

“I can't stay any longer today. I'm just too tired. I practically slept through algebra. If you could pick up my other books and assignments, I'll get them from you later,” he said, as a face-altering yawn overtook him.

“Sure, I'll drop them off to your house right after school. Tell your mother I'll be over,” Beth said, squeezing his arm.

JW walked to the office to speak with the principal.

“I hope you don't plan on making it a habit to come half days, because it won't be long before you've fallen far behind your classmates,” Mr. Morrison said.

“No, sir,” was the reply. “Last night was my first night in the pit, so my body hasn't made the adjustment yet. I hope after a few nights, it will get used to the switch between nighttime and daytime.”

“Okay, son. Go home and get some sleep. I hope to see you back here tomorrow. If you can't make it every day, come as often as you can,” Mr. Morrison said.

JW thanked him, pleased to learn there would be some leeway regarding his attendance. He hoped his body would adjust quickly to being awake nights and sleeping days.

The walk home was brutal, his legs and feet tired from standing for too many hours. JW felt the last of his strength leave his body as his feet hit the front step of his house. Draping his coat over the stair post, he waved to his mother as he went upstairs to his room. He laid his books and satchel on the shelf. His head hit the pillow, and sleep followed immediately.

Chapter 20

“J
ohn Wallace, time to get up,” his mother called from downstairs.

“I'll be right there, Ma,” he answered, and jumped to his feet. He knew he wouldn't have much time to get his school work done before work. He dressed quickly, pulling on the clothes he had worn to school. He would change into fresh clothes in the morning when he got home.

The clock began to chime as he gathered up his books and satchel. He counted the number of chimes, and his heart sank when he heard nine of them. JW had asked his mother to wake him at eight, so at least he'd have close to two hours to do some of the work and check out the books Beth had brought for him. He hoped she'd remembered to bring them.

“Ma, I had to get up at eight.”

“You were sleeping so soundly, I didn't have the heart to wake you, dear.”

“It's the only way I'll be able to keep up,” JW said. “I have to get up early. Well, I'll really have to study fast and hard tonight.”

“Come and have your breakfast with your father,” Mary Donaldson said, and headed toward the kitchen.

“Can I eat in the dining room, so I can look over my homework?” JW asked. The dining room was usually only used for special occasions like Christmas and Easter.

“I'll bring in some stew for you,” his mother said.

“Thanks, Ma.” Pulling open his math book, he scribbled what he remembered from class, something about finding the variable for X. Using the examples from class, he quickly understood the concept and breathed a sigh of relief. Moving to English, he found the poetry was familiar and broke it into the required rhyme scheme. Lying on the table were three more books Beth had delivered for him. Inside the top book, she had written out his class schedule. Two subjects didn't require assignments, but a chapter had to be read for science. He noticed his science class was right after lunch, so he would browse through part of it now and finish it at lunch tomorrow.

The stew was hot and good, and he made sure to eat extra bread. He figured the more food he ate, the more energy he would have and the less likely he would be to fall asleep.

“C'mon along now,” his father said. “We gotta get moving.”

“Be right there, Da.” He pulled on his coat and kissed his mother's cheek. “See you in the morning, Ma.”

Rushing outside, he hurried to the toilet, and then to the barn where he shovelled out the stall. He threw in some hay and a handful of oats for Lightning. “I'll brush you down tomorrow,” JW said as he petted him.

Gulliver stood at his side waiting for his turn to be petted. JW bent down and hugged Gulliver to him. “You look after the house now, boy.”

“We gotta get moving,” his father said again.

“Coming now, Da,” JW called out, and hurried to catch up with his father, who had started down the road. He knew his father wouldn't leave without him, but he understood that they had to leave right away, or they could miss the trip.

“What are you taking with you?” his father asked.

“My satchel, the one Pa made.”

“I wouldn't leave that up top. Could be gone by morning.”

“I'm gonna take it to the trap with me. I even got my lunch in it.”

“It's gonna get awful dirty underground.”

JW pulled something from his pocket. “I took an old pillow case to wrap it in down below.”

“Alright, that might do the trick.”

The walk seemed a little hurried, but he kept pace with his father. “How far are you from where I'm working, Da?” JW asked. He waited, wondering if his father had heard him.

After almost a minute had passed his father said, “Less than a quarter mile, probably half that. If you followed the horses that you let through and walked past the first three tunnels, I'm in the next tunnel, about three hundred yards in. You'd know it right off, it's the one with all the water in it. Before long, they're gonna hafta close her down, or it might come down on its own.”

“You think there's any danger of that happening?”

“Sure, it could—” his father said, then realized he was scaring him. “But the sky could fall, and I don't expect that to happen anytime soon. How did school go today?” he asked, steering the conversation in a different direction.

“Pretty good. I could only stay until lunchtime though. I thought I was gonna fall asleep on the way home. Beth brought over the rest of my books. I spoke to Mr. Morrison, the principal. He seems good. Said I was to come whenever I could.”

“Ah, that sounds fair.”

The rumble of voices meant they had arrived. JW spotted Mickey up ahead and caught up to him.

“Hi, Mickey,” JW said. “You working tonight?”

“John Wallace Donaldson! I never thought I'd see you down here! I heard you screamed like a girl on the trip last night.”

JW felt the heat rise to his face. He hadn't cared that the miners had heard him, but Mickey knowing he'd screamed was embarrassing.

“But don't worry, I did the first time. Most of them did too,” Mickey said, waving his arm to take in all the men waiting for the trip. “That's why they do it to all the new kids, so that someone else gets laughed at for a change.”

JW was relieved to hear he wasn't the only one who had screamed. “I'll see you later, Mickey,” he said.

—

Andrew Donaldson listened to JW and Mickey, as Mickey explained that everyone was scared the first time down the trip. But Andrew knew different, because he had been one seat behind Mickey, who hadn't made a sound his first night going below.
What a kind boy,
Andrew thought
.

Chapter 21

T
he descent was slower than last night and without incident. Mickey took a seat next to JW, and they laughed on the way down. Red met them once the trip stopped.

“I'm just gonna walk with you, JW, and make sure the door's opening proper,” Red said.

“I didn't see you get on the trip. What do you do, sleep down here?” JW asked with a laugh.

“Sometimes.”

The walk along the travelling way didn't seem as frightening tonight. JW struck up a conversation with Red, asking him about family.

“Nah, I never had time to get married and have kids. But I live with my sister and her husband, and they got a couple of boys, so I get to take them fishing,” Red said.

“I caught a big one a few weeks back,” JW told him. “He was as big as my forearm, from my elbow to the tips of my fingers.” He held out his arm in the darkness.

“What was it, a codfish?”

“No, a trout.”

“Musta been some eating on that one, JW,” Red said.

“I was holding him in my hands and he snapped his tail, hit the bank, and was back in the water in a matter of seconds, but—”

“It sounds like a ‘one that got away' story. You've only spent one night underground and already you can spin tall tales,” Red said, chuckling. Before JW could respond, Red added, “Well, we're here.”

JW looked at the trap door and felt a shiver run the length of his spine. He watched Red pull a stick slathered with grease from a bucket beside the door. The bucket was hidden in the shadows, and JW hadn't noticed it the night before.

“You plaster it on the hinges every second night, and it makes opening it a whole lot easier. The door's heavy and you don't want it sticking,” Red said, as he liberally spread the grease.

JW paid close attention. “So every second night, Red?”

“Yeah, that should do,” Red said. “I see you came down on the rake with young Mick tonight.”

“We spent six years in school together, before he came to the pit.”

“Well, you'll get to spend the next forty or fifty years together down here,” Red said, not realizing the feeling of despair his comments had stirred in JW. “I gotta get over to feed the horses,” he said, pulling the trap door to make sure it opened easily.