Coal Camp Girl, Page 3

  “Oh no!” said Mama, laughing. “Little girls don’t go into mines.”

  Jeff came in looking as black as his sister.

  “Have you been in the mine, too?” asked Mama.

  “Yep!” said Jeff. “Uncle Jack took us in. Gee! It’s wonderful back in there. So black and spooky. Not hot and not cold. Good air to breathe.”

  “Grandma always said the air in the mine is good for whooping cough,” said Mama. “But Uncle Jack didn’t take you in the big mine, did he?”

  “Oh yes,” said Tina. “In Linden Number 3, Daddy’s mine.”

  “Yes,” said Jeff. “He had some work to do, so he took us in with him. We went in about a mile maybe and we saw the holes where the coal had been taken out, and the machinery and the timbering …”

  “We wore hard-shell bank caps on our heads, with electric lights to see by,” said Tina.

  Mama and Celia laughed. “Bet you looked pretty,” said Celia.

  “Why didn’t you take me?” asked Ronnie.

  “Oh, you’re too little,” said Tina.

  “Well, I’m sure of one thing,” said Mama. “All kids raised in a coal camp must have guardian angels to take care of them, or they’d never survive!”

  Chapter Three

  PAYDAY

  “Bread, soup meat, a bag of pinto beans …” Mama made out a grocery list and handed Tina the old knit shopping bag.

  Celia spoke up, “And a bottle of baby oil for Letty. Don’t forget.”

  Tina started out the door.

  “Here, take this,” said Mama. “You wouldn’t buy much with no money, if you didn’t have Daddy’s scrip card.”

  Tina took the scrip card in her hand and looked at it. At the top was the name of the company and the name of the mine—Linden Number 3. Next was Daddy’s name, Walter Wilson, and his check number, 521, and the name of the month and year stamped in blue. The card was divided into two columns for the two halves of the month, one dated from the first to the fifteenth, the other from the fifteenth to the thirtieth. At the bottom it said in small print, “This card must be brought or sent to the office when advances are desired.”

  “What are ‘advances,’ Mama?” asked Tina.

  “That’s the scrip we buy food with,” said Mama. “The company advances us the money before payday. You give the card to Mr. Frazier at the office window and ask him for a dollar and a half in scrip. That ought to be enough for today.”

  Mama sighed as she glanced at the card in the girl’s hand. So many dates had amounts advanced marked beside them. Would there be anything left by the time payday came around?

  “Seems as if we spend every penny Daddy earns before he gets it,” she said.

  “That’s the truth!” said Celia. She turned to Tina. “Remember now, baby oil for Letty.”

  Tina went out the door and down the street. She felt very important to go to the company store alone. She wondered if she would see anyone she knew. Exciting things were happening along the way. The Murphys’ cat was chasing a chicken. Mrs. Bryant was hanging clothes on her line. Dave Hurley, the little crippled boy, was hobbling on his crutches. His sisters, Barbara and Betty ran out to say hello. And there was Peggy Murphy fighting her brother again.

  Tina wanted to stop but didn’t. Clutching her scrip card and shopping bag, she walked on down to the corner.

  “Tina! Christina Wilson!” a voice called behind her.

  Tina looked back and there was Hilda Krupa. Hilda lived up on the hill by the slate dump. Now she came tearing down like a house afire. She stumbled once and nearly fell. Hilda liked to joke about her big feet. Hilda was a good friend and Tina liked her.

  “You going to the store?” asked Hilda.

  “Yes,” said Tina, primly. “I have to do some shopping for my mother.”

  “You got money?” asked Hilda. “Real money?”

  “No,” admitted Tina. “I’ve got my daddy’s scrip card.”

  “I’m going to the store, too,” said Hilda.

  “What for?” asked Tina.

  “I have to tell Aunt Tillie something,” said Hilda. She put her arm around Tina’s waist. “Let’s get ice cream cones,” she said.

  “I won’t have scrip enough,” said Tina.

  “Candy then,” said Hilda.

  “No,” said Tina, “’cause my big sister needs baby oil for her baby and I’m not sure I’ll have enough for that.”

  “Gum, then,” said Hilda. “Just one pack.”

  “You ask your Aunt Tillie to get it for you,” said Tina. “She works in the store.”

  “Oh, she never gives me anything,” said Hilda.

  The two girls walked on toward the company store, but when they came to the railroad track they had to wait.

  A train whistle sounded and a train came puffing along the track. It was a long line of coal cars pulled by a steam engine. The engine huffed and puffed, as smoke and cinders fell.

  The train was late today. It usually went by before the men came off the day shift. It went up to the coal-tipple with empties every day at noon, and came back with the coal cars filled with coal in different sizes, some in large lumps, some in small. It took the coal out of the valley where it had been mined.

  “I wonder where that coal is going,” said Tina.

  “How should I know?” said Hilda.

  “I know,” said Tina. “It’s going all over the world!”

  “How do you know that?” asked Hilda.

  “My daddy told me,” said Tina. “He said that when he digs coal down under the ground, he’s bringing electric lights and heat and all kinds of things to people all around the world!”

  But Hilda had no imagination and was not listening.

  “Let’s run!” she cried. “I don’t want to get cinders in my hair!”

  The train went chugging on, scattering a shower of cinders through the valley. The company store was a large red brick two-storied building beside the railroad track. Across the front in large letters was a sign that said, MOUNTAIN VALLEY STORES.

  The girls ran in at the big front door. It was cool and quiet inside, for there were only a few customers. Tina knew everybody who worked there. Mr. Frazier was in the office on one side, marking down rows of figures in a large ledger. Mr. Diehl, the butcher, was sharpening knives. “Aunt Tillie”—Hilda’s aunt was showing a woman dry goods over her counter. The Sonnenberg boy was putting canned goods on a shelf.

  Tina liked the company store. It was different from the stores in Mapleton, the big town up on the hill. It had a special smell all its own, and it was always neat and clean. The ceiling was as high as a church. The counters and aisles ran from front to back. Everything was sold at the company store—groceries, fuel, clothing, housewares, tools, meat, hardware and furniture.

  Hilda ran first to the candy counter, then to the dry goods department where Aunt Tillie worked.

  Tina went timidly to the barred window of the office and peeped in. The counter inside and a large desk were filled with papers and ledgers. Mr. Frazier was adding figures and mumbling with his lips. He did not see or hear the little girl. Tina stood first on one foot, then on the other. She stuck her scrip card up through the bars. But Mr. Frazier did not even know she was there.

  Tina could not wait all day, so she coughed. It was only a tiny cough, but it made Mr. Frazier jump. He made a blot on the page of his big book, picked up a blotter and blotted it. He came to the window and his piercing black eyes rested on the girl who stood outside it. He reached for her scrip card.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Christina Wilson,” said Tina.

  “How much?” he asked.

  “A dollar and a half,” said Tina meekly.

  Mr. Frazier counted it out in scrip and handed the coins to her.

  Tina looked at them in her hand. They were almost like real money, but when you wanted to spend them at the stores in town, they weren’t worth as much as money. They were just a substitute for money. Some of the
coins looked like silver and some like brass, but they weren’t real silver or brass. They all had the name of the Mountain Valley Coal Company on them, and the words, “Payable in Merchandise Only.” Each coin had a hole stamped in the middle, shaped like a number, a two or a three.

  “The pennies are larger than the nickels,” Tina said as she counted. She had two half dollars, a quarter, two nickels, a dime and five pennies.

  “How much did you get?” Hilda came and peeked over her shoulder.

  Tina closed her hand and wouldn’t show her. She went to the grocery counter and bought her bread and beans. Then she went to the meat counter for her soup meat. Mr. Diehl was very slow, but finally he got it ready for her. She had enough left for the baby oil at the drug counter.

  Tina put each thing in her shopping bag. She had just one nickel left over. Quickly she tucked it into her shoe, so Hilda would not see it.

  “Let’s get candy,” begged Hilda.

  Tina shook her head.

  “Why doesn’t your Aunt Tillie buy you candy?” she asked. “She works here.”

  “I asked her,” said Hilda. “She says they don’t give her any candy free.”

  “Well, then …” said Tina.

  Hilda took Tina over to the dry goods counter. Aunt Tillie was a middle-aged woman with glasses on her nose. She nodded to Tina, but not a word was said about candy. Aunt Tillie looked at Tina’s shopping bag.

  “You shopping for your mama?” she asked. “You find everything you need? Can I sell you some of this pretty red plaid for a nice warm dress for winter?” She held a piece up high and let it fall in even folds.

  “No,” said Tina. “Mama says everything’s too high here. When we got money, we go to town. Things are cheaper there.”

  Aunt Tillie tossed her head.

  “Here at the company store we sell only good merchandise,” she said. “For cheap stuff, yes—you can go to town.”

  Hilda looked at Tina.

  “Here you can buy what you want with scrip,” said Hilda. “Before payday even!”

  “That’s just the trouble,” said Tina. “Mama says our money’s all gone before we ever see it. Besides, when they’re out of something here at the company store, they make you wait too long before they get it.”

  Aunt Tillie turned her back. Because she worked there, she was always loyal to the company store.

  As the children left, Hilda said to Tina, “You shouldn’t say those things to my Aunt Tillie. She don’t like it.”

  “But it’s true and you know it,” said Tina.

  “I suppose it is,” said Hilda. As they walked along, Hilda begged Tina to go home with her.

  “I’ll go as far as my grandma’s,” said Tina. “I want to see Snowball and that new pony called Bright Eyes. But I can’t stay long because Mama is waiting.”

  The girls turned off on a side street and started up the hill. They passed the Collins house where a lot of flowers were blooming. A row of tall sunflowers grew by the fence. Dahlias were in bloom by the gate.

  Soon they came to Hilda’s house, Number 214. It was on the highest road, skirting the mountain, not far from the slate dump. Behind Hilda’s house rose a black mountain of slate, higher than the mountain itself.

  “Let’s go up to the top and slide down,” said Hilda. “Over on the other side, where my mom won’t see us.”

  “Some other time,” said Tina. “I have to hurry back. As soon as I see the ponies, I’ll go on home.”

  “All right for you,” said Hilda. “I’ll be mad at you!”

  Tina smiled. She knew Hilda never stayed mad very long. Hilda went in her back door. She turned and called back, “See you in school tomorrow.”

  But when Tina got to Grandma’s, she couldn’t get away as soon as she expected to, for exciting things were going on. Grandma and Aunt Effie, Uncle Chick’s wife, and Mrs. Tucker, Virgil’s mother, were out in the yard making apple butter. Grandpa was there too, sitting on his straight-backed chair, stirring the seething sauce in the big twenty gallon copper kettle.

  “See my ‘stirrer’?” he asked, lifting his wooden paddle. “It’s called a ‘horse’s head!’”

  Tina laughed. The queer-shaped board at the end of the broom handle did look like a skinny horse head. At one end it was rounded to scrape the bottom of the kettle, and it had holes bored in it to let the sauce run through.

  Grandpa’s chin was white with unshaved whiskers, and his eyes, under the visor of his cap, were blue and merry. Tina looked into the bubbling, simmering red sauce.

  “Gramp, want me to stir a turn?” she asked.

  “Sure.” Grandpa offered her the handle.

  “Oh, it’s popping!” cried Tina. “I don’t want to get burned!”

  “Don’t be afraid, Christina. Take it,” said Grandpa. “I’ve got to put more wood on the fire.”

  The kettle set on a low wall of bricks, daubed with clay to keep the flames inside.

  “Now don’t you make it too hot, Gramp,” called Grandma, who was resting in the shade.

  Tina put her shopping bag on the ground and began to move the “stirrer” back and forth.

  “Where are those new ponies, Gramp?” she asked.

  “Can’t fool with ponies today,” said Grandpa. “Got to git this apple butter made.” He pushed some sticks of wood under the kettle.

  “What a job!” Grandma mopped her face. “Effie and I peeled apples all day yesterday, and I started the sass at six this morning. Looks like it’ll be night before I git it canned.”

  “How much sugar did it take?” asked Mrs. Tucker.

  “Thirty pounds,” said Grandma. “I figger it’ll make ten gallons. It’s got about two more hours to go, before it glazes over.”

  Grandma was a round plump woman, with her gray hair in a braided ring at the back of her head. She looked much like Tina’s mother, but was stouter.

  Tina soon got tired of stirring.

  “I got to go,” she said. “Mama don’t know where I am.”

  Aunt Effie said, “Guess it’s my turn with that stirrer.” She got up and told Tina to go. Tina picked up her shopping bag.

  “Hey!” called Grandpa. “You can’t go without seeing the ponies!”

  Grandpa took Tina’s hand and they walked to the barn. He opened the door, and there stood the two new ponies, Bright Eyes and Diamond. Tina looked them over.

  “Why, Bright Eyes has eyes as blue as the sky!” she said. “And Diamond—he must be a black diamond. His fur is black like a bear’s.”

  Grandpa laughed. “He’s a bad one. We’ll have trouble breaking him.”

  “Can I have a ride, Gramp?” asked Tina.

  Grandpa brought Bright Eyes out of the barn. He put the bridle on her and helped the girl up. He walked beside the pony, leading him. They went up and down the lane.

  “Oh, Gramp!” said Tina. “He’s better than Snowball. He rides as smooth as a rocking chair!”

  Grandpa laughed and went back in the barn.

  Tina patted Bright Eyes and talked to him. The pony started to turn around and nip at the girl. Then he tried to throw her off.

  “Oh, Bright Eyes, don’t!” cried Tina.

  Grandpa hurried out.

  “He’s trying to bite me!” said Tina.

  “With a new pony, you have to be careful,” said Grandpa, “until you get to know him and he gets used to you. Don’t ride him too much at first. Better get off.”

  “I like Bright Eyes,” said Tina. “Can’t I have a pony all my own, Gramp?”

  Grandpa shook his head.

  “Ponies are not playthings, they cost a lot of money,” he said. “You’d better run along home now, or your mama will think you’re lost.”

  Tina said goodbye and hurried home as fast as she could go.

  Payday was always exciting, because it meant shopping. Payday came every two weeks on “the first day of the half,” that is, on the first and fifteenth of each month.

  “The children need school clothes,�
� said Mama. “I’ll get a winter coat for Tina and Jeff a warm jacket. All three of them need shoes.”

  Early in the morning, Mama and the children left the house. The whole valley was filled with fog and they had to walk slowly. The air was heavy with black smelly coal smoke. When they got to the company store, cars were already parked and people were lined up in front waiting to get in when the door opened. Men were waiting to be paid off, and a few women and children waited to collect their daddies’ pay.

  Mrs. Wilson spoke to Mr. Murphy and Mr. Hurley, her neighbors. Then Mrs. Bryant came up to talk.

  “It feels like overcoat weather, don’t it?” said Mama.

  “Snow will be flying soon,” said Mrs. Bryant. “Got your winter coal in yet?”

  “Part of it,” said Mama. “Jack promised to bring the rest this week. Our heater’s still out on the back porch where it’s been all summer. We must bring it in soon.”

  “I’m trying to get all my bedding washed up before cold weather comes,” said Mrs. Bryant. “Done your winter shopping yet?”

  “No,” said Mama. “I thought I’d try to get some school clothes for the kids today.”

  Ronnie spoke up. “I want new shoes, Mama.”

  Up ahead, the store door opened and the line began to move.

  “That is, if there’s any money left,” said Mama.

  “You said it,” added Mrs. Bryant. “Real money’s as scarce as hen’s teeth.”

  At last it was Mama’s turn at the office window. She handed in Daddy’s statement, which showed the number of hours he had worked during the “half” and the amount he had earned. Mr. Frazier handed her Daddy’s pay in a small brown envelope, on which were marked the various amounts held back.

  Mama looked at it and frowned: Union dues, doctor bills, insurance, rent, water and extras. She turned to Mrs. Bryant and said, “Even saving the bathhouse fee doesn’t help much. The kids need school clothes even if we go in debt for them … Some day, I hope we can get caught up.”

  Mrs. Bryant nodded in sympathy.

  Tina looked up at Mama and said, “I like scrip. Don’t you?”

  Mama and Mrs. Bryant laughed.

  “I don’t know what we’d do without it,” Mama said.