The Widows

by Jess Montgomery

  The alarm sounds, stopping him cold.

  Lily and Luther stare at each other, their quarrel muted by the sickening shrieking sound, linked for a moment by mutual dread.

  CHAPTER 26

  LILY AND MARVENA

  LILY

  The collapse is at the Widowmaker, about five hundred yards into the new tunnel.

  By late afternoon, hundreds gather—families, miners, volunteers from Kinship and other mining communities. Luther is there, two of his Pinks beside him at all times. Other Pinkerton men are mixed among the people, watching, waiting.

  Coal-oil lanterns are set up, hung from makeshift poles, in case the effort has to go past dusk. By full nightfall it will be too dangerous for the rescuers to go in.

  Kinship Cemetery on the side of the hill had caved into the mine shaft’s opening. Water from the ground had filled the entry to the tunnel. It is cooling rapidly, and the people mutter among themselves about that morning’s red sky—a sign of evening storms. More water on the top of the hill would be disastrous.

  While Jurgis organized the rescue, Lily worked alongside Nana and Marvena and Hildy, who came by carriage with neighbors when they got word; she tended to the injured, bringing food to the rescuers, comforting the scared and bereaved.

  Lily now stands next to Martin, waiting along with everyone else for the last—at least for tonight—rescue team to come out. Men have entered in rowboats, ropes attached to the boats to pull them back. Two tugs would mean for the men with the rope to pull them out quickly—another collapse imminent. So far they’ve pulled from the tunnel sixteen men and boys, six dead, the rest with varying degrees of injury and shock. According to the day’s work docket from Luther’s foreman, two men are still unaccounted for.

  They’ve also hauled out six caskets that fell through; there are reports of many more, farther down into the tunnel. Some headstones as well.

  That morning, Lily had watched out for Elias, thinking surely he’d come.

  All she can think of is Daddy and how he, along with Marvena’s husband and several other men, had not been pulled out. There was a marker for Daddy at Kinship Cemetery but nothing to bury. She wonders if Marvena has a marker somewhere for her husband or if he’s memorialized only in memory.

  Her only moment of rest is in this moment, staring at the top of the hill, bashed in like a skull, its crown of thorny headstones destroyed. It is as Jolene feared. A child had foreseen it.

  The crowd stirs as the rescue reaches the mouth of the tunnel, then cheers as a miner staggers forward out of the boat, arms around the necks of his rescuers. But the crowd hushes again as the other two rescuers pull the canoe forward and lift another man out—a dead-man lift. From somewhere in the crowd, a keening rises. Someone knows the dead man is her loved one.

  Martin looks at Lily. “We have to tell them to go home. The search is over.”

  “But, Martin, they need to help each other, and the bodies—”

  Martin grabs her arm, pulls her to him, his weary eyes desperate as he stares at her. “Lily, you have to call this done for tonight. Or let Jurgis or me do it. If we let Luther do it…”

  Lily looks at the angry faces, feels the tension stirring, tightening. Martin is right.

  She goes to the canoe at the front of the crowd, stands on it to gain a little height. “Now the search is over, you all need to go back to your homes!” she hollers. At first no one seems to hear her, so she hollers again.

  “Now that the search is over…” The crowd quiets. Her voice staggers to a stop. She gazes across the weary, dirty faces. Oh God, how can she dismiss them like this? “Tomorrow—”

  Another shriek tears across the night, a man’s voice.

  Tom emerges from the crowd. “No, no, no!” He’s sobbing. “My boy is still in there!”

  MARVENA

  Marvena runs to Tom, throws her arms around him, trying to press him back into the crowd as two Pinkerton men charge forward on Luther’s command.

  “No! My boy—”

  The men are upon Marvena and Tom, trying to pull them apart.

  “Stop!” Lily barks. “Luther, stop your men, or by God, I’ll turn this crowd on you! You’re outnumbered, and this is not the time.”

  “You wouldn’t dare—” Luther starts, but then even he sees the murderous glint in the people’s eyes, their weariness and despair making them restless.

  “Unhand them,” he says. “Do it!”

  The Pinkerton men step back. Tom falls to his knees, still sobbing, and Lily realizes he’s been melted into the crowd this whole time, watching to see if Alistair is brought out.

  Marvena says, “Alistair was working at the front of the crew.”

  Lily looks at Luther. “Why is Alistair Whitcomb not on the docket?”

  Luther shrugs. “I’m not sure. I’ll have to look into that. Meantime, Tom Whitcomb is a wanted man—wanted for your husband’s murder.”

  Marvena looks at Lily. Surely after all they’ve been through, Lily will protect Tom.

  Relief floods Marvena’s heart as Lily turns to Martin and says, “I’m holding you responsible for Tom’s safety. He’s in your custody. Can you do that? While I go find Alistair?”

  Martin says, “Yes, Lily, but I should be the one going in.… I can’t let you—”

  “Because it’s bad luck for a woman to enter a mine? I think we’re past worrying about bad luck. Look, Alistair is about my size. If he is caught in some narrow passage, I can get him out.” She looks around at the weary men who’ve been working to rescue their living and dead. She calls out, “I need someone to row me in. And a flashlight and helmet—”

  Martin grabs her arm. “Lily, think about this. Daniel would—”

  “Don’t talk to me of Daniel! I know exactly what he’d do in this situation,” Lily says.

  Marvena releases Tom and steps forward. She takes Lily by the shoulders and looks directly in her eyes. “Daniel would find him, yes. But why do you think it has to be you alone to save him? We will do this together.”

  LILY

  Lily thinks of John Rutherford and then her own father. Of Daddy’s look of disappointment and shame when Lily would not get help for the poor Gottschalks. And now of a young boy in there and the possibility, if he still lived, of dying alone. She cannot live with herself if she doesn’t try.

  “Fine,” Lily says to Marvena. “Together.”

  “For God’s sake,” Martin says. “You could both die. Let me, let some of the men—”

  “No. They’re bone weary, apt to make fool judgments,” Lily says. “We’re small enough to find our way through narrow passages to Alistair—if he’s to be found.”

  “That’s just it, Lily; if he’s not, or even if he is, you’re risking—”

  “Look at this crowd, Martin. If I don’t try, if the boy is lost without any attempt to find him, these men and women will not be reasoned with. It will be the final spark for anger that’s been waiting to explode, worse than Blair Mountain.”

  Martin looks down, shaking his head. “All right. But I don’t think Daniel would like it.”

  “Martin?”

  He looks up at her.

  “If something happens to us, tell my mama to take in Frankie, just like she’ll take in Micah and Jolene.”

  Ten minutes later, Lily sits at the front of the boat, holding her flashlight up to help Marvena see where to paddle around the floating caskets. Some are intact. Some have busted open, so bones float by.

  The men at the front of the tunnel had been crushed under collapsed rocks and earth. At the back, where the water had quickly filled in—one of the foremen reckoned that the last blast had loosed an underground stream—the living had clung to caskets or stray wooden beams.

  Lily and Marvena stop, sit in the canoe for unending minutes. It is nearly as dark as night, with moonlight and torchlight from the opening barely reaching this far. Pieces of the wood frame block them from entering farther. Lily stares beyond the light beam into the darkne
ss. Alistair has to be beyond the fallen frame; otherwise, wouldn’t the other rescuers have found him?

  She and Marvena call Alistair’s name. Listen, straining for something. Anything.

  The only response, after the echoes of their cries fade, is the lap of water against the canoe. Nothing more.

  “Lily! We have to turn around.”

  Lily ignores Marvena.

  “If Alistair’s dead, there’s no use.…”

  Lily waits for long moments, then nods, and Marvena dips in an oar to turn them. But then there’s a moaning. Lily grabs Marvena’s arm, but Marvena has already frozen. Lily looks back into the darkness beyond the timber. She listens.

  She waits. Nothing. Then another moan. “Alistair! Alistair, is that you?”

  Silence laps by. Then a faint whistle. Smart boy, Lily thinks. Whistling takes less air from the lungs than calling. Lily sets down her flashlight, takes off her helmet, and starts unbuttoning her dress. It will be easier to swim that way. “Keep whistling, Alistair!” she calls.

  “I am going to swim under the wood,” Lily says. “Then I want you to use the end of the oar to reach the helmet to me, through the slats. Put the flashlight in it, and use the strap. Got it?”

  Marvena stares at her. “He’s my nephew. I should go.”

  “You a good swimmer?”

  Marvena’s silence tells Lily all she needs to know. Lily pulls off her shoes, stockings. She’s down to her underpants and slip. She stares into the water. Easier than leaping off the Kinship Tree into the creek with Roger.

  Then she looks back at Marvena. “If you have to, you pull that rope twice. You don’t wait for me and Alistair.”

  “Oh God, Lily.”

  “You hear me? You pull that rope and you get out of here, and you go help Mama with our children.” Then Lily looks away from Marvena, back into the darkness. “Alistair?” she calls.

  A whistle, weaker this time.

  Lily stares down into the murky water. She moves to the edge, lets her feet over. The water is cold. She’ll have to go in fast, all at once, to keep from tipping over the canoe.

  She somersaults forward and, holding her breath, swims between the fallen joists. She pushes up, panicking that there is no air, but if Alistair could whistle there has to be air.

  Yet in her mind, she’s back at the Kinship Tree, held under until she was pulled up by Roger. I don’t have enough breath to make it back, she thinks, and then she sees Daniel gazing at her, eyes locked to hers, just as he had that day.

  And this flits across her mind: Thank God. Thank God. She’d met Daniel, after all.

  In the next instant she makes it above water, gasping, some of the foul water getting in her mouth. She spits it out as best she can. Then she makes out Alistair. His arms are hooked over a beam, death grip. His forehead is gashed open. Lily swims over to him, and though his eyes are open, staring, Lily isn’t sure the boy sees her.

  “You have to come with me,” Lily says.

  He gazes at her. Through her.

  “You father sent me. He’d want you to let go, put your arms around my neck.”

  A thudding boom shakes the planks and earth around them. In the distance, Lily hears Marvena scream, “No!” The water starts to rise, slowly, but Lily knows it will come faster. Somewhere near them, another support has collapsed.

  “Alistair, listen to me,” Lily starts.

  “Mama?”

  Oh God. In his fear and delirium, the boy thinks he’s dying, that his long-gone mama has somehow come back to take him on to the other side.

  “That’s right, son. Put your arms around me. Trust me.”

  Alistair closes his eyes, lifts his arms from the beam. Lily catches him, his sparse frame barely pushing her back. She forces them both down and under the water. She first shoves him under the beam, then has to let go of him so he can float through. She comes up on the other side gasping for air.

  In the canoe, Marvena is screaming. Outside, they must have heard the echo of the boom and decided to pull in the canoe. Marvena is moving farther and farther away.

  Lily dives, reaching, searching, finally grabs Alistair’s arm and pulls him up. She hooks one arm under his armpits. She treads water, forces herself onward to Marvena.

  MARVENA

  The canoe is pulling forward. Marvena looks back at Lily and Alistair.

  “No!” Marvena screams again, but they can’t hear her outside of the cave.

  She reaches for her knife, sheathed under her waistband. She could cut the rope, paddle back to Lily and Alistair, haul them in, paddle out. But her arms are already quivering. She doesn’t have the strength to go quickly enough. Before the mine would fall down around them.

  Marvena leans over the front of the canoe, gives the rope three quick tugs. It’s not a signal they’ve agreed to, but she knows Jurgis is on the other end and she trusts him to be clever enough to understand that she wants him and the other men to stop pulling.

  The rope goes slack. Marvena turns around, paddles back to Lily and Alistair.

  She tries to pull in Alistair while Lily pushes, but he’s gone to deadweight. He is barely breathing. The boy is too cold; he’s been in the water too long. Lily treads water, holding herself and Alistair with their heads just above the water, but Marvena can tell Lily is weakening. And, she calculates, they’ll turn over the canoe trying to get both of them in.

  “Listen,” Marvena says. “They was pulling the canoe back, but I tugged three times. That wasn’t one of the signals, but Jurgis had the sense to stop pulling. I’m going to tug twice, then come to the back of the canoe and grab your arm. Can you hold him up with just one arm?”

  Lily nods. Marvena tugs the rope twice, then scrambles to the back of the canoe, hooks her heels under the seat, leans out, stretches her hand to Lily. The canoe moves forward. Lily gives another burst of effort and grabs Marvena’s forearm, who grasps hers in turn.

  “All you have to do is hang on,” Marvena says.

  And so Lily does. Moments pass as they inch forward.

  “Oh God!” Lily cries. “He’s stopped breathing! Marvena—”

  “Just keep looking at me, Lily.”

  Finally, the canoe grates on earth. Marvena gets out and grabs Alistair’s legs, while Lily holds his head and torso to her chest. They emerge, carrying the boy between them.

  Marvena sees Tom sink to his knees, staring at them. The crowd, even Luther and the Pinks, is silent. Nana pulls on Tom’s arm. He staggers to his feet, then forward.

  Lily and Marvena gently transfer Alistair to Tom’s arms. Tom takes his son, curls his face to the boy’s chest. He’s silent, and then he drops to his knees, still holding Alistair. He lowers the boy to the ground, grabs his shoulders, shakes them, wails.

  LILY

  Someone puts a large blanket around Lily’s shoulders. Shivering, she remembers she’s barely clothed. She covers herself with the blanket like a cloak, then stares up. Martin.

  “My God, Lily, what you’ve just done—” he starts.

  Not enough. If she could have pushed herself harder, gotten to Alistair faster, not hesitated, not remembered the being caught under the water by the Kinship Tree years before.

  But then Alistair gasps. He coughs up water, bile.

  Nana moves to Tom. “Turn him to his side; let the water drain. Thump his back.”

  Tom does as Nana asks. Alistair gasps again, then opens his eyes and stares up at his father. Lily starts to tug off her blanket. “Here. He needs this.”

  “Someone’s gotten him another one,” Marvena says.

  Lily looks up as Luther looms over her.

  “Now that that’s done,” he says, “you need to arrest Tom Whitcomb, Sheriff Ross.”

  Lily takes the cup from Martin, sips again, then says, “No. There was never a warrant out for his arrest, and I’ve questioned him to my satisfaction.”

  Luther frowns. “Goddam, Lily, he’s wanted for killing your husband!”

  “You didn’t e
ven know Harvey Grayson had thrown him in your holding cell.”

  “Everyone in Rossville knows Tom didn’t like Daniel coming around his old lover—”

  “Luther. For God’s sake,” Martin says. He grabs Luther by the shoulders, shakes him roughly. “Let this go for tonight. Don’t you think—”

  Lily reaches for Martin, wanting to pull him back. She starts to beg him to stop, to not rile any of the Pinks, give them an excuse. But before she can speak, before Martin can even finish his sentence, Luther breaks free, shoves him away. Martin starts to lunge toward Luther.

  Gunfire.

  Lily drops to the ground, covering her head. The crowd shrieks.

  Another shot.

  Martin collapses next to Lily. She crawls to him, sees that he’s been shot in the neck. Lily pulls off the blanket he’d just brought her, presses it to his neck, trying to stem the blood spurting from him. For just a moment he stares into her eyes, his own widening, and though it’s hopeless, she looks up and screams for help into the brawl that’s exploded around her. When she looks back at him again, his eyes remain wide yet lifeless. Someone—she looks up; it’s Jurgis—grabs Lily and pulls her away from Martin.

  Then, nearly as quickly as it exploded, the fight ends. Luther and his men, vastly outnumbered for now, flee to their automobiles, drive up Kinship Road out of Rossville.

  MARVENA

  “We should follow them!” someone shouts. A cry rallies through the crowd.

  Marvena grabs Luther’s bullhorn from the ground, then jumps up on a cart.

  “Enough,” Marvena says through the bullhorn. The crowd settles, just a little. “We would only be asking for more death tonight, on our side as well. We must stay calm, organize ourselves, take advantage of having the town in our control.”

  Darkness has fallen, but several folks have lit torches. Marvena spots Lily, still on the ground beside Martin. She’s covered him up with the blanket, and Jurgis has taken off his jacket and draped it around Lily’s shoulders. She barely seems to notice that or Marvena staring at her, willing her up on the cart beside her. But then Jurgis gently pats her shoulder, points to Marvena. Lily shakes her head as if to clear it, moves to the cart, and climbs up.