by Paul Henke
Joseph was not to be stopped. ‘Football is a game which bears no relation to real life. After a hard game you can leave the field and forget about it, or talk about it over a beer. You can’t do that in real life. There’s nowhere to hide. Do you understand?’
‘Yes,’ said Sion, doubtfully.
‘Sion,’ said Joseph, ‘for myself and my family I want to thank you for trying but give it up. It won’t do any good.’
‘We’ve done nothing to deserve your thanks,’ Sion said.
Joseph shrugged. ‘It’s nice to know that at least there’s one person outside our little community who, shall we say, sees our point of view?’
Sion did not remember the walk home. Later he lay wide awake worrying about Joseph and his friends. If he had been in his third year he might have been able to wield more influence. Influence . . . That was an important word for what he was trying to do. He needed more authority, needed to be more powerful. Yes, that was what it took. If he had an important position, like captain of the football team, then he could possibly influence the men more. There it was again. The same word. It was all intermingled. If he was rich and powerful . . . He eventually fell asleep.
In December Sion realised that Bill had nowhere to go for Christmas and wrote a note to his parents informing them he would be bringing a guest.
In reply Sion received a letter from Evan telling him to be careful in his dealings in connection with Joseph and not to antagonise the Dean unduly. Evan went on to say that although he agreed with what Sion was trying to do he felt Sion should wait until he had graduated before he took on the establishment.
After he read it Sion showed the letter to Bill. ‘It annoys me that my father agrees with what I’m doing and in the next sentence tells me to stop. I can believe in things as strongly as he does. Why wait until I’m older?’
Bill interrupted him and wrote:- Wait Sion. Your father agrees. He did not say stop only be careful. He’s right. What good will it do if you’re expelled? None whatsoever. We have our victory. We use the place as we please. Nothing is said. What are you aiming for now? A public apology to Joseph for the way he has been treated?
Sheepishly Sion shook his head and then his mood lifted. ‘I guess not. Roll on the holidays. It won’t be long now and we’ll have three whole weeks of freedom and fun.’
Except for the homework we’re being set, Bill signalled.
With constant practice Sion was now becoming adept at reading Bill’s signals though he often had to guess the full meaning.
The next two weeks brought snow and freezing nights. They both studied hard and were pleased with their end of semester test results. On the last day before their holiday the countryside gleamed white under the bright sun and clear blue sky. There was much excitement and boisterous laughter while the undergraduates prepared to leave. Sion and Bill arrived at Columbus far too early for their train and spent the afternoon in a local hotel drinking coffee. The time dragged, but finally it was time to catch their train.
Meg and Evan met them in St Louis the next day and for the first time in his life Sion was embarrassed when Meg kissed him.
‘This place hasn’t changed much,’ said Sion, half disgustedly, looking around while they drove through the town.
‘What did you expect after only a few months?’ asked Evan, smiling. ‘Is this your first time in this part of the country?’ he asked Bill. Bill nodded and signalled to Sion.
‘He says it’s very nice. More picturesque than he had expected.’
Meg looked at her son in astonishment. ‘How on earth do you know he said picturesque?’
‘I didn’t really. Bill said it was like a picture and I just put it differently, that’s all. Did you mean what I said, Bill?’
Bill nodded and signalled – as always. They both laughed.
‘What’s so funny?’ asked Evan.
‘Nothing, really,’ replied Sion. ‘It’s just that I’ve got into the habit of changing the words he signals to me into . . . sort of better prose, I guess that’s the only way to describe it. Anyway, Bill tells me I put what he wants to say more eloquently than if he could still speak.’
His parents smiled tentatively at one another, unsure whether they should bring more attention to Bill’s injury or ignore it. Bill signalled.
‘Bill says not to worry about talking about what happened. He says it doesn’t bother or embarrass him. He says I can tell you if I wish but I reckon you know everything from the letters I wrote you.’
They drove on in silence for a while. The weather was a few degrees warmer than is had been in Ohio and it was a pleasant journey.
‘We’ll be having our usual party on Boxing Day,’ said Meg. ‘It’ll give you a chance to introduce Bill to everybody.’
‘Is Dave coming home for Christmas?’ Sion asked.
‘He’s arriving tomorrow,’ his father replied. ‘You don’t think anything will keep him away from Gunhild, do you?’ Evan winked at him.
‘Oh, it’s serious is it?’
‘It looks like it. I’m sure he spends more time writing to her than he does on his studies,’ Evan said and then sighed. ‘Another good man gone.’
‘Dad, Dad,’ Sion said with mock sadness, ‘it’s not too late, is it? I mean, isn’t there something we can do to save him from this fate worse than death? I know,’ Sion snapped his fingers, ‘we can send him to join the French Foreign Legion. That would be much better than, ugh, marrying.’
‘All right, all right you clowns, that’ll do,’ said Meg, that’ll do. ‘I think she’s a very nice girl and will be just right for David. In a few years time, of course,’ she added.
‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Sion, ‘I thought you were already helping to plan the wedding. How many bridesmaids will there be?’
‘I haven’t talked to Gunhild about any wedding yet, so don’t try and be clever young man,’ said Meg. ‘Furthermore, I’m sure they don’t have any firm plans just yet, and won’t have any for a few years, at least. Gunhild is very sensible and knows David has to finish at Harvard and will need at least a year or even longer to get himself established in business. In the meantime they enjoy each other’s company, write to each other and leave the future to take care of itself.’
They lapsed into silence as the buggy turned into the drive.
‘How’s Thunderbolt?’ asked Sion jumping down for the buggy.
‘Just fine, son,’ said Evan. ‘Marie’s brother Juan is now working full time here looking after the grounds and horses. Here he comes.’ Evan nodded towards the short, stocky figure. ‘Juan, I’d like you to meet my son Sion and his friend Bill.’ They shook hands.
‘I’ll take care of the horses,’ said Juan, taking the reigns and leading them towards the stable.
‘I’ll come with you and see Thunderbolt. Want to come?’ Sion asked Bill and together they followed the buggy towards the stable.
That evening they were in the study having a pre-dinner drink, a ritual Evan and Meg rarely missed, when Evan asked: ‘What’s happened about that restaurant business you wrote about?’
Bill and Sion shrugged. ‘Nothing much,’ said Sion, and explained what was going on and how it had mostly faded.
‘Just as well,’ said Meg. ‘The last thing we want is for you to be expelled.’
‘There are plenty of other good universities,’ said Sion.
‘That’s not the point and you know it,’ Meg replied, annoyed.
‘I know, I know. But there was a principle at stake. Why should Joseph and his family be punished the way they were when they’d done nothing wrong?’ Sion’s voice rose as he began to get angry.
‘Simmer down,’ said Evan. ‘We’re not questioning your motives or your ideals. I think your principles are sound and if more people felt like you do, then there would be hope for the working man in this country. And, I want to add, there are plenty who do feel as you do. All we’re saying is that you should take it easy for now. Okay, do what you can, but don’t get so
involved that the only recourse for the Dean is to expel you. All right? If we’re asking too much then say so now and we can argue about it.’
Sion looked sheepishly from his father to his mother. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just I get so mad when I see what goes on and read about what happens with the unions in the coal fields and steel works and hear stories like the one about Joseph.’
‘I know, and so do I,’ said Evan. ‘I hope you always feel like that but remember; patience and hard work is far more effective than all the anger and harsh words in the world. And it’s even more effective when you’re in a position to do something about it.’
‘I guess that’s true. Bill keeps telling me the same thing.’
‘Bill’s got more sense than you, then,’ said Meg.
‘Dad, I agree with what you said. You believe it. So why don’t you do something about it?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like you said in the summer. Run for Congress or something. Why wait any longer?’
‘I agree. I’m not waiting. I’m running.’
‘Exac . . . what did you say?’
‘I’ll be a citizen of the United states of America in a month’s time. Some members of the party are rushing it through for me. The present incumbent is unwell and wishes to retire by the end of the year. I’m being nominated as a candidate,’ Evan paused. ‘Though whether or not I even get the nomination remains to be seen. And as for winning . . .’ Evan shook his head
‘Good grief !’ was all Sion could manage.
34
Christmas passed in a whirl of laughter, fun and parties. David was always with Gunhild, while Sion and Bill met two sisters who were pretty in an insipid way and free with their favours.
All too soon it was time to return to the university and, in a freshly falling snow storm they left St Louis for Columbus. As soon as they arrived Bill wrote a thank you letter to Meg and Evan.
‘You don’t need to do that,’ said Sion, looking over Bill’s shoulder as he wrote.
Sure I do, Bill wrote on a piece of scrap paper. If I didn’t then I wouldn’t get invited back. And boy, that Carol was surely something.
Sion laughed. ‘So was Beryl. And don’t worry about not being invited back. Like Mam said, they really do hope to see you next holiday. Can you think of a reason why they won’t?’
Bill shook his head vigorously and Sion clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Right then. That takes care of that. How about us going down to Joseph’s and wishing them all a Happy New Year? Perhaps have a beer? Even something to eat?’
Bill shook his head and wrote: Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. I feel I can’t eat for a month. I had so much at your parents’ place.
‘Me too. Sheer gluttony made me suggest having a meal. Boy, am I glad you came home with me. Only your hard-working nature kept me on the straight and narrow path which leads to a degree.’
Bill signalled: Your laziness is an example to me of what might happen if I stop trying. He grinned.
The next evening they did go into town. When they arrived at Joseph’s and saw the shuttered windows and barred door they thought the place was closed for the day, which was unusual as Joseph boasted he never closed.
‘Still, everybody’s entitled to a day off. And he had said he was going to stay open for Christmas day. We can come back tomorrow.’
Sion turned away but after a few paces realised Bill was not following and turned back. Bill was standing in the doorway reading a paper pinned to the door.
It was a Sheriff ’s notice closing the restaurant as an undesirable influence in the area and that the closure would be enforced pending an appeal to the courts.
‘They can’t do this,’ said Sion in anguish. He put out his hand to tear the notice down but was stopped in time by Bill grabbing his wrist.
‘Who ordered this? Why?’
Bill shrugged and made their special, rude signal denoting the Dean.
Sion nodded. ‘This is all my fault,’ he said bitterly. ‘If I hadn’t interfered this wouldn’t have happened. What can Joseph do? Where could they have gone? Do you realise, Bill, that while we were enjoying our holiday Joseph and his family were being evicted? I wonder when it happened? Before or after Christmas? Not that it matters. It’s happened, and that’s that. Oh Christ, what have I done?’ Sion rubbed his eyes wearily. ‘What should we do?’
Bill put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and slowly they walked away. Sion was desolate. They walked with heads bowed, their thoughts in a turmoil.
‘Sorry,’ Sion mumbled when he bumped into somebody and looked up into Joseph’s furious face
‘I suppose you’ve been to the restaurant? That’s a stupid question, of course you have,’ he paused. ‘I am trying very hard to control myself. If you hadn’t interfered then I and my family would still have a roof over our heads. Still have a place to call home, instead of being thrown out like animals, with no rights. And what about you two? You’ll go back to your warm cosy rooms and plan the next act you can do for us little people. Well, let me tell you something, both of you. We don’t want help, certainly not from the likes of you. We knew we shouldn’t have let you in. Now look what you’ve done. Now go away. If I ever see you again then I might do something stupid which I’ll regret.’ Joseph was shaking with anger and both boys looked at him with fear.
‘But Joseph . . . please . . .’ Sion began.
‘Shut up and go.’ Abruptly Joseph turned on his heels and walked away.
Sion and Bill looked at each other in dismay. ‘Is he right? Is that all it meant to us? Was it just a game?’ Sion voiced his doubts. They discussed what had happened.
Finally Sion burst out, saying, ‘No, it’s not like that. It’s not. I really do believe in what we tried to do. Damn the Dean. We’ll never get the men to protest this. Well I’m not stopping now. Bill, listen,’ he grabbed his friend’s arm in excitement. ‘I’ve got quite a lot of the money I inherited from my Uncle James. I could use it to hire the best lawyer available to fight the case in court on Joseph’s behalf.’
Bill suddenly smiled but a second later the smile died. He shook his head and signalled beneath the dim light of a street gas lamp: No good. The court will take place here. I read it on the warrant. The best lawyer in the world couldn’t win here.
Sion nodded. ‘You’re right. Tell you what though, we could get the court’s location changed. I remember reading somewhere that if it was deemed that a fair trial could not take place in a particular court then the court’s location could be changed.’
Bill nodded: And afterwards? What then? Where do they live? Here? In peace? Bill shook his head.
‘God, Bill, I must do something! This is all my fault,’ Sion shivered. ‘We’d better go back, it’s freezing. We must think of something to help them.’
They trundled back to the university the few inches of snow crunching underfoot. Neither spoke while Sion made a cup of coffee but finally, handing the cup to Bill, he said: ‘Did you see Joseph’s face? His hate? . . . It was terrible. Well, I’ve made up my mind. Tomorrow I’ll see the Dean, ask for an explanation and tell him I intend hiring the best lawyer to fight the case.’
Bill shook his head and picked up his slate and chalk: Don’t do that. It will achieve nothing. Get you expelled. Better idea. Write your father.
‘Ask my father for help? You must be joking. I caused this mess and . . .’ he stopped because Bill was shaking his head.
Bill wrote: Not help, advice.
Sion shook his head. ‘I can’t do that. I can’t run to the old man whenever I get into trouble or . . .’
Bill, showing his vexation with Sion, waved him to silence and wrote: Now I know your father I’m sure he’ll help. He has the contacts and knowledge to know what to do. Look Sion we’ve already messed it up for Joseph and his family. It makes sense to call for help.
They argued back and forth. Bill disregarded his slate for paper and a pencil so that he could write faster and for longer without having to kee
p rubbing out what he had just written.
Finally, Sion saw the sense of Bill’s suggestion and although it was late they composed a letter to Evan. Sion posted it the following morning.
They spent a miserable week waiting for a reply though they knew it would take up to ten days before Evan could send a letter back. The reply when it arrived was a surprise to them both.
They were in their room working when there was a knock on the door. It opened and Evan said, ‘May I come in?’ He grinned at their open mouthed astonishment. ‘Well, don’t look so surprised. Is that a kettle I see over by the fire?’
‘Dad,’ Sion jumped to his feet to shake his father’s hand. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’
‘I came to sort out this mess,’ Evan said heavily. ‘I can’t say I’m happy to be here. I’m upset and angry that because of you an innocent family has been so badly treated. I do appreciate what you were trying to achieve. I’m sure at the time Joseph did too but now it’s all gone wrong. Whichever way you look at it, you’re to blame. Don’t look so glum. I haven’t come here to admonish you but to give you some advice and to do something for Joseph and his family.’ Evan broke off to accept a cup of coffee from Bill.
‘Thanks. Your idea to go to a lawyer and fight it in court was a good one but it wouldn’t have got you anywhere. And what about you two? How would the Dean have treated you if you did something like that? You told me, Bill, that if you were to cause a nuisance
– because of your throat – he’d expel you. This would be all the reason he needs and I’m sure he’d also get rid of Sion quickly enough.’
They both looked glumly at Evan.
‘But Dad, how can anybody do such a thing to an innocent family? How can they throw them out of their home, into the snow, for Christ’s sake? Why didn’t the law protect them?’
‘Sion, I’m sure the men responsible believe that they did the right thing. I’ve no doubt that the Dean and anybody else involved are God-fearing, law-abiding citizens who feel threatened by those they see as anarchists. They see their whole way of life threatened by people who, in their opinion, want everything for nothing and who are not prepared to do a proper day’s work.’