Coal Camp Girl

by Lois Lenski

  The news of the mishap spread quickly. The neighbors came in to see if they could help. Mrs. Murphy came, wrung her hands and cried. Mrs. Diehl mixed an old-world recipe and they put it on the burn. Mrs. Tucker and Virgil stopped on their way to Mapleton. Mrs. Tucker offered to take Tina to a doctor, but Mama said she had no money for doctor bills.

  “It will heal in time,” said Mama, little dreaming how long it would take.

  People kept coming in. Tina didn’t know she had so many friends. They all felt sorry for her.

  Hilda Krupa came with her mother and brought a bag of candy. Dave Hurley hobbled in on his crutches and offered to lend them to Tina when she was able to walk. Miss Sanford—“Helen”—brought letters from Tina’s class at school, and left her school books so she could keep up with her lessons. Even Peggy Murphy came and said she was sorry she had picked on Tina and given her a black eye.

  All the kinfolk came. Uncle Chick and Aunt Effie brought the cousins, Trig, Dede and little Cindy. They brought her cards, candy and gum. Grandpa and Grandma came every day, and Grandma always brought cookies. They all came but Uncle Jack, who was still in the hospital.

  The days were long for Tina, lying in bed. Sometimes Mama propped her up on pillows, so she could look out the window. The slate dump was covered with snow now, and after school she watched the children sliding down on sleds or boards or cardboards. Sometimes Jeff slid on Mama’s coal shovel. By balancing the handle in front, he could go down fast. One day when Mama asked for it, the coal shovel was gone. Jeff had left it at the bottom of the hill and had to go and look for it.

  One day Tina asked about the ponies. “I’ve got to get up,” she said. “Poor Bright Eyes with his broken leg! I promised him I’d come and see him every day.”

  “Gramp and I are taking good care of Bright Eyes,” said Jeff. “The vet says we can soon take the splint off.”

  Now there was more to eat and Tina was not as hungry as before. Mama went to the Baptist church each time the surplus food was given out. She got beans, cornmeal, flour, butter and sometimes other foods. Once the churches in Charleston sent down a windfall of canned milk, canned peas and some sugar. Other women, besides Mama, who had been too proud to go before, forgot their pride so that their families might eat.

  Daddy started to work in the pony mine with Uncle Chick’s men. He felt happier now, for he was earning again. Each night he brought Tina a treat in his bucket. Each night he sat by Tina’s bed and talked. But it didn’t last long. For suddenly Daddy started staying at home again all day long.

  What was it now? Had Uncle Chick’s mine closed down? Tina hated to ask. It was Jeff who told her. The punch mine was flooded with water and no one could work. Jeff had brought all the ponies up to Grandpa’s barn. Uncle Chick and his men were trying to pump the mine out. They pumped each day and got the water out, but it came right back in again. Nobody could work knee-deep in water.

  But a happy day came when Uncle Jack was allowed to leave the hospital. Daddy said, “Let’s celebrate! Even if we can’t work, we can have a little fun. We all need it.” He told Jeff to ask all the neighbors to come in at eight o’clock that evening for a party.

  “Shall I ask the Murphys to come?” asked Jeff.

  “Why, sure,” said Mama. “They cause us lots of trouble, but they’re our neighbors and we want them too.”

  When Uncle Jack came, Tina hardly knew him because he looked different. The cast was gone but he still had his arm in a sling. Mama had a hard time explaining about Tina’s burn.

  “I know, I know!” said Uncle Jack. “Helen told me, but I never guessed it was so bad. You never took her to a doctor … and she’s been in bed all this time!”

  Mama was crying so, she could not answer.

  Uncle Jack leaned over and kissed Tina’s cheek.

  “O.K., cherry pie,” he said. “I’m going back to work again, and we’ll get you well as soon as we can.”

  At the party Tina sat up in a chair and never got tired at all. She wore a new dress that Uncle Jack and Miss Sanford got for her, and she looked pretty even though she was very thin. Tina watched the people as they came in, bringing coffee, cold drinks and cakes and cookies. There were the Bryants, the Hurleys and the Watsons; the Krupas, the Collinses and all the kinfolk. Then came the Tuckers with Virgil and Rita, followed by the Murphys with Peggy and Mike. They were all dressed in their best clothes. Pat Murphy brought his violin, sat down to tune up, then began to play. The women set the furniture back to make room for square dancing.

  The little coal camp house was alive with bright lights in every room. And its walls were fairly bursting with happiness and merriment, as the dancers whirled around. Some of the men sat on the back porch and “mined coal” in conversation. The children frolicked, ate and drank, and had the time of their lives.

  Everybody forgot that the mine was closed down, and that there were few pennies to rattle in their pocket-books. Everyone forgot how close a miner’s family can come to starvation, to mishap and danger. The breath of life was strong in them all, as they put their worries aside and deliberately chose to be happy.

  Tina watched the dancing and wished that she could dance too. When Uncle Jack came and asked her to try it, she took a few steps with him. But the old burn pained her so badly, she had to sit down again. Miss Sanford came up and waved a kiss to Tina as she and Uncle Jack danced away.

  “Helen!” said Tina to herself. “Aunt Helen.”

  She had loved her as a teacher. Could she love her still more, if she became a member of the family?

  Chapter Seven

  DISASTER

  “Where’s my girl? Where’s my Teeny girl?”

  Daddy came striding up the hill from the mine ahead of the other men. He swung his lunch bucket invitingly.

  Ronnie ran to get it, but Daddy said “No. The treat is for girls only. The treat is for Tina.”

  It was the first time she had left the house. Tina ran to meet Daddy coming home from the big mine. She opened his bucket and found a big fat chocolate bar for a treat.

  “Oh Daddy! How wonderful!” cried Tina. “I’ll give half to Ronnie.” She broke it in half and she and Ronnie gobbled it up.

  When they got home, there was Jeff carrying the two buckets of Daddy’s bath water up the back steps.

  With the coming of spring, things began to look better again. Daddy and many of the other men had been called back to work in the big mine. Now the mine whistle blew for the changes of shifts each day. Now the air was filled with coal dust again, and the busy coal-cars went chugging in and out of the valley behind the smoky steam engine every day. Life resumed its usual pattern, the strain left the women’s faces, and the happiness was reflected even in the children.

  When Tina was able to walk again, Grandma Ferris asked her to come and stay for a week before she went back to school. Tina clapped her hands when Mama said she could go. It was always fun at Grandma’s house, and she would be near the ponies.

  Would Bright Eyes remember her? Now that the pony’s leg was well again, would Bright Eyes give her a ride on his back?

  There were so many things to do at Grandma’s. When Tina stepped out of Uncle Jack’s car, she smelled cookies baking. The kitchen was warm and sweet and spicy when she went in. She was just in time to help Grandma roll out the last batch. She cut the cookies in rounds with the cookie-cutter. She took them out of the oven when they were brown.

  “Grandma, why do you always have cookies, and Mama none?” asked Tina. All her life Tina had come to Grandma’s house and found cookies waiting.

  “Gramp has his pension,” said Grandma. “That gives us more money for groceries than your mama has when Daddy is out of work.”

  “Oh!” said Tina. “No cookies is one of the hardships, isn’t it?”

  “It doesn’t hurt us to learn to do without things we want,” said Grandma.

  “Food, too?” asked Tina.

  “Just the extras like cookies,” said Grandma. “Other food
is a necessity.”

  Tina heard a loud pounding on the roof.

  “What’s that, Grandma? A woodpecker?”

  Grandma laughed. “Uncle Jack’s a pretty big woodpecker, don’t you think?”

  “Is it Uncle Jack?” asked Tina. “What’s he doing?”

  “He and Gramp are putting new shingles on,” said Grandma. “Jack is doing most of it. I won’t let Gramp climb on the ladder.”

  “Can Uncle Jack pound with his broken arm?”

  “Yes, it needs exercise to strengthen it,” said Grandma.

  “Can I help?” asked Tina.

  “You? I should say not,” said Grandma. “I don’t want anything to happen to you while you’re here. I’m going to feed you up and put a little flesh on your bones. You’ve grown so skinny, I’m afraid the wind will blow you away. You’ll have to be stronger before you can go back to school.”

  The rat-a-tat-tat on the roof continued.

  “Run out to the chicken coop and bring in the eggs,” said Grandma.

  Tina found six eggs in the nests and brought them in in her skirt. Grandma beat one of them into a glass of fresh milk. She gave it to Tina to drink.

  “Oh! how good!” said Tina. “I could drink a gallon!”

  “You will have it every day while you are here,” said Grandma.

  The very next morning Tina went out to see the ponies. To her joy and delight, Bright Eyes came running to meet her. Tina held out a lump of sugar. Bright Eyes nuzzled it first, then ate it. Tina put her arm around the pony’s neck.

  “You remember me, don’t you, Bright Eyes?”

  Grandpa helped the girl get on the pony’s back and led him as she rode round the pasture.

  “Will you take Bright Eyes back to the mine again?” asked Tina.

  “His leg is still too stiff,” said Grandpa. “The vet said it was a wonder he recovered. We had to get a new pony to work with Diamond—his name is Knot-Head! He’s a hardheaded one!”

  Tina did not dare to say how glad she was. She patted Bright Eyes on the back and loved him more than ever. Every morning and evening she rode the pony round the pasture. Soon the pony began to trot with her, and then to gallop. The pony was good and obedient and made no trouble at all.

  In the evenings Tina did her lessons with Uncle Jack, who said, “Helen doesn’t want you to miss a whole winter of school, so you must work hard to catch up.”

  Uncle Jack made the work seem like play, so it was fun. One by one the days went by. The trees were budding out and early blossoms were opening. The dark dinginess of winter began to fade away in the coal camp valley, with the brightness of the spring sunshine.

  Then one day it was cloudy. Thick heavy clouds hung low in the valley. Dim lights shone in all the little houses, for it grew dark soon after midday. Then the rain began to fall, cold heavy drenching rain. Sometimes it would stop only to start in again with greater force. The feeling of spring vanished with the chill of cold.

  Tina could not go home at the end of her week. Grandma did not want her to get wet and catch cold. It was better to stay inside, secure and dry in the warmth and comfort of the big heater stove. Uncle Jack had finished patching the roof just in time. There were no more leaks and Grandma was glad.

  “You can’t go home until the rains stop,” said Grandma.

  So day after day, Tina waited. Like Mama, Grandma had no telephone, so Tina could not talk to her family, and she began to feel homesick. Was Daddy still working at the big mine? Had Ronnie’s front tooth come out, the one that was loose? Was baby Letty walking yet?

  Uncle Chick came in now and then. He said all was well at home but gave no details. His entire concern was with the mines. He reported that all the pony mines were flooded with water, and none of them working. He had heard a rumor that Linden Number 3 was flooding too, but Grandpa and Uncle Jack refused to believe it.

  The rains kept on and on. They were so bad that most of the children stopped going to school. Uncle Jack brought this news from Helen Sanford. So Tina felt better about having to miss.

  Then one morning, when Tina got up, she looked out of the window. Across the road, beyond Grandma’s chicken house and yard, stood the big mountain of the slate dump, where she had had so many happy hours of play. Way, way up at the top, she had seen birch trees growing and wondered if she could climb up there and slide down. She had never tried it for fear of landing in Grandma’s chicken yard or on the front porch in Grandpa’s lap!

  Now she could hardly believe her eyes. What had happened in the night?

  The road was gone, the chicken house and yard were gone, Grandma’s flower bed and the front porch were gone—covered up with slate. The whole big mountain of the slate dump had come sliding down! There were the birch trees now—just a little way up. They were bending over, all topsyturvy.

  Tina remembered the last time she had played at the top—how she and Jeff had thrown stones and tried to hit Grandpa’s chimney. The rain, the rain—it had washed all the slate down. Her old fear returned. Was it going to cover up Grandpa’s house and bury it?

  Tina ran to the side window. There was the Krupas’ house a little higher up. The slate dump was coming down on it too. It was over the roof in the back, and most of the yard was gone. Were the Krupas up? Did they know the danger? Where was Hilda? Tina wanted to tell her to hurry up and get out …

  She pulled on her clothes as quickly as she could and ran downstairs. The rooms were dark there, those on the mountainside by the dump. Through the back kitchen windows overlooking the valley, she had a fleeting glimpse of a red sun trying to rise. Was the rain over at last? Out through the side door Tina ran without looking back.

  “Hey! Where are you going, sugar pie?”

  A strong hand pulled her by the arm and dragged her back indoors.

  “You can’t go running off like that so early in the morning,” said Uncle Jack’s kindly voice.

  “But Hilda—Hilda Krupa … I’ve got to wake her up, before the slate dump falls on her …”

  “Now, now …” Uncle Jack brought Tina in the kitchen and put her in a chair.

  Grandma was fixing breakfast just as usual. It was going to be diced potatoes fried with onions, ham and red gravy, hot biscuits and butter. Grandpa was shaving by the kitchen sink. Everything was just as usual. The sun came up over the mountain to the east and flooded the sky, as if trying to tell the people in the coal camp that the worst was over.

  Was nobody going to do anything? Were Grandma and Grandpa going to sit still and let their house be covered up?

  “But look!” cried Tina. “Look at the slate dump! It’s coming right down on us. I want to go home, oh, I want to go home …” She began to cry as if her heart would break.

  Grandma took her in her arms and quieted her. Then Grandma and Grandpa and Uncle Jack explained. As soon as it dried off a little, they were all going down to Christina’s house in the valley. It looked as if the rain was over, and when the roads were dry enough, the mine company would send its trucks to haul the slate away.

  The Krupas had already gone to their kinfolk, and other families in the endangered houses were going soon. The slate would not slide any more if the rain stopped.

  “It won’t cover Gramp’s house up?” asked Tina.

  “No,” said Grandpa. “It was a close shave and we’re lucky. Mine is the nicest house with the best view of the valley. I don’t want to move any more than you do.”

  So they all went down the hill to Christina’s house in the valley to stay until the slate was removed. Uncle Jack went off to stay at Uncle Chick’s in Crabapple Hollow, and Mama made up the davenport in the front room for Grandma and Grandpa.

  Tina was happy to be at home again. A few days passed happily and calmly, and then the quiet was shattered by the unexpected.

  “What time is it, Mama?” asked Tina one day.

  “Almost three-thirty,” said Mama. “The whistle will blow soon.”

  “Can I go to meet Daddy?” asked the girl
.

  “Not in this rain,” said Mama. It was raining again. The spring rains had never been so heavy.

  “You stay inside and keep dry,” said Grandma. “We don’t want you to catch cold.”

  Dinner was nearly ready and Mama was heating water for Daddy’s bath. The family waited and talked.

  Mama looked at the clock. “Why, it’s almost four,” she said. “I didn’t hear the whistle blow. And Daddy’s not here.” She turned to Grandma.

  Suddenly a loud blast sounded. It was the mine whistle, and it kept on and on. Mama and Grandma looked at each other, and Tina saw fear in their faces.

  “Something’s happened at the mine,” whispered Mama. “The day shift hasn’t come off.”

  “The disaster whistle blows only for one of three things—a slate fall, a flood or an explosion,” said Grandma.

  Suddenly a siren was heard. Jeff and Tina ran to the front window. Down the hill road from Mapleton came an ambulance at top speed. It turned at the corner and went down to the big tipple. Several other speeding cars followed.

  “Where’s Daddy?” asked Tina. “Why doesn’t he come home?”

  Grandpa came out to the kitchen. “I’ll go down to the mine,” he said.

  “Can I go too, Gramp?” asked Tina.

  Mama reached for her coat and scarf, but Grandpa took them from her and hung them back in the closet.

  “None of you can go,” he said. “No one but Jeff. If there’s trouble, they don’t want women and children around. We’ll let you know when we find out anything.”

  As soon as Grandpa left, Mama hurried over to Mrs. Bryant’s house to see if she had heard any news by telephone. After a while she came back.

  “The mine is flooded and the men are trapped,” she said. “They were cut off at one o’clock, when water broke through the roof, bringing mud and rocks with it.” She turned to Grandma. “There’s that refuse pond high on the mountainside. They dammed it up for a dumping ground for waste from the coal washing machine. All this rain filled it to overflowing. The weight of the water collapsed the four hundred foot of rock and earth that formed a wall between the pond and the mine passageway. The mine’s full of water.”