A Message for Julia

by Angel Smits

Julia cringed at her father’s bellow. At twenty-nine, she wasn’t anyone’s little girl, but subtlety had never been Raymond Alton’s strong suit, and now was no exception. She sagged a little with relief that her parents were finally here and she didn’t have to be alone—then she tensed up again in anticipation of the baggage they brought with them.

  Her parents had seldom hugged her. They’d been too busy, too distant, too uncomfortable. So she was shocked when her father swept her into a strong embrace. She heard her mother’s anxious voice and felt her feather-light touch caressing her hair.

  Julia closed her eyes and let herself sink into their ministrations. She let herself believe, for just a while, as she had when she was a child, that Mom and Dad could fix everything.

  Her eyes burned and the ache in her throat intensified. She knew that if she started crying now, she might never stop. She fought the temptation and pulled back to look at her parents. It had been months since she’d seen them. They looked older, worried. Was this too much for them? They were both in their sixties.

  “What’s happening? Fill us in.” Her father guided her to a chair and sat down beside her. Her mother, Eleanor, absently rubbed her shoulders. She’d forgotten that her mother used to do that when she was a child. It felt good. What else had she forgotten?

  Instead of letting her thoughts go down that path, she focused on her father’s question. “We don’t know much. There was a cave-in and Linc was down with a crew on the second shift. They hadn’t been down long.”

  “Gas?” he asked softly. They all knew he meant the deadly methane that plagued all coal-mining operations.

  “They don’t know.”

  His curse was soft, not meant for her to hear, but spoken aloud, nonetheless. “Let me see if I can get some answers.” He started to stand.

  “Dad. Please.” She recalled Shirley’s animosity and grabbed his arm to stop him. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea for him to be throwing his weight around. Not yet anyway.

  “What?” Raymond looked at her hand, a strange, surprised look in his eyes.

  “This isn’t your mine, nor your operation. We’re one of the families this time,” she whispered and regretted each word when his shoulders slumped as if in defeat—or as if some weight had been settled there. “Just be here with me for now, okay?”

  “We’re here for you, sweetheart.” Her mother slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Whatever you need from us, we’re here.”

  The catch in her mother’s voice and the sheen in her father’s eyes combined was nearly too much. Julia and her parents had had their troubles, but all that seemed forgotten now. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she said.

  “You can and you will.” Raymond sat up straighter. “The Altons have weathered plenty of storms. We’ll get through this one.” His bravado and certainty—a certainty she’d always found arrogant before—gave her the extra nudge she needed. She leaned into her mother’s shoulder and said something she doubted she’d ever said to them before. “Thank you.” She was surprised at how easily she could turn to them.

  Just then, Patrick Kelly and the two other men came back in. Their eyes were bloodshot in their coal-blackened faces.

  Her heart sank and she appreciated her parents’ timing. Here it was. The news they’d all been expecting. Thank God her parents were here. They’d pick up the pieces.

  She knew she couldn’t.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Friday Afternoon, Twenty-Four Hours Underground

  THEY LEFT THE LAMP from Casey’s hard hat turned on. Linc had extinguished his own, just as the others had, to save the batteries. Casey was finally quiet, the pain of his injuries rendering him oblivious to his surroundings. A good thing for him right now.

  They took turns sitting with him. Linc kept his thoughts to himself, but as he approached the injured man, he found himself holding his breath. Please God, don’t let me find him dead.

  “Is he any better?” He expected Gabe to look up when he approached. Instead, the older man simply shook his head and stood. The darkness swallowed Gabe as he slowly walked away. Linc settled down at Casey’s side.

  “He’s taking the responsibility for all of this on his shoulders.” Robert’s disembodied voice echoed Linc’s thoughts.

  “None of this is Gabe’s fault.” Linc struggled to keep the suspicion out of his voice. “Unless he did something he wasn’t supposed to.” Someone must have done something—mines didn’t just collapse for no reason. What, he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever know.

  “You don’t get how it works down here, do you?” Robert stepped forward and into the dim circle of light. Anger and shadows contorted his face. His hands were fisted at his sides.

  Linc had run up against miners hostile to inspectors before. Nothing new there, but it frustrated him that Robert couldn’t set it aside now. He held on to his desire to vent his frustration. Did the others feel the same way?

  “Oh, I get it.” Linc stood, not willing to give the other man the advantage of looming over him. “I get that the mine owners send good men like all of you down here to bust your butts. And for what?” He stepped toward Robert. “Nothing but obscenely low amounts of money.”

  “It’s more than that.” Robert took a step forward, too. “It’s a way of life. It’s the backbone of the energy industry that keeps this whole damn country running.”

  “You actually buy the crap they shovel at company meetings?”

  “I buy. I believe. It’s who I am. It’s who we all are. You aren’t one of us and you’ll never understand.”

  “I understand plenty.” Linc’s voice lowered as his throat tightened. “I grew up with the mines. My father was just like you. Just like Gabe. He believed it all, too.”

  Robert didn’t speak but continued to glare.

  “Until two tons of rock fell on him and his whole crew.”

  Still, Robert remained silent. Linc wanted him to understand his position, probably as much as Robert believed in his own convictions.

  “Then you dishonor him and his death working as an inspector,” Robert said.

  Linc clenched his jaw and forced himself not to shout. “You’re treading on dangerous ground.”

  “And? You can speak your mind, but I can’t? You’re a stranger here. This is my world.”

  “Hey.” Gabe appeared in the small circle of light. “You two cut it out. You got problems with each other, deal with them later.”

  What if they didn’t have later? Linc wondered, but held his tongue. He respected Gabe too much.

  Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Linc tried to purge his system of the anger. He’d always been quick to react—or overreact, as Julia often reminded him.

  Robert disappeared into the darkness, and Linc heard the rustle as he settled on the other side of the chamber. Gabe looked at Linc, but didn’t say a word. His expression was unreadable. Censure or sympathy? “It’s my turn to send the signal.” Gabe turned with a shrug and headed toward the pipe.

  Seconds later, seven peals of metal on metal broke the ungodly quiet.

  Linc sat back down. Was he an outsider? While he fought the idea, it took hold and refused to let go. What bothered him most was the realization that his father probably would have agreed with Robert. He’d been a company man through and through.

  Closing his eyes, Linc shoved aside Robert’s accusations, his father’s memory and this whole damned situation. Lord, he was tired, but just as on every night since Julia had left him, he couldn’t sleep. Why couldn’t he just let go? She was the one who’d lied. The one who had walked out.

  He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, letting the pressure drain out the ache.

  Why did he still want her? Was he such a fool that he let her take advantage of him?

  What else had she lied about? He ignored that can of worms. Was she right now sitting at the house, waiting for him to die so she could avoid the hassle of a divorce?

  He groaned, letting his anger r
eplace the fear of dying.

  But even his anger at the situation, at Robert, or with Julia couldn’t keep her image from forming in his mind. An image that all too easily morphed into something different.

  Instead of yelling at him, she was smiling. Instead of seething at her, he was reaching out, touching the soft copper waves of her hair.

  He wanted to hate her, wanted to forget what it felt like to love her, but he couldn’t.

  His life was entwined with hers. He’d been the first to make love to her. She’d given him her virginity on a hot summer night in the dew-cooled grasses of Hamilton Park.

  She’d looked so incredibly beautiful as she lost herself in passion. If he was going to die, he wanted that to be his last image.

  They’d made love hundreds of times in the years since then. It had never lost its magic. Never.

  Friday Afternoon, 3:00 p.m.

  JULIA WATCHED AS Patrick Kelly came into the tent with two men that she hadn’t seen before.

  Patrick was a big man, with a receding hairline and wide green eyes. The other men easily rivaled him in height.

  So far, he’d stuck to his word and hadn’t “blown smoke up their asses.” He’d admitted that he might not always have the answers they wanted, but he would have answers.

  Julia stayed where she was, though several of the other family members moved closer. The tent wasn’t so vast that she couldn’t hear him. She felt her mother’s hand tighten on her shoulder and saw her father sit up a little straighter.

  “The ventilation drill is about a third of the way down to where we think they are.” A third of the way in what—Julia glanced down at her watch—twenty-four hours? At this rate, how could they possibly break through in time?

  Patrick paused as if not wanting to share the rest. Everyone held their breath. “I told you I’d be honest with you and I’m keeping that promise.” He paused. “We’ve got water rising on the east side. Jim here is in charge of the pumps, and we’ve started all of them. We’ve got more pumps coming in from the Griffin Mine and the White Water operations. They’ll be here sometime before midnight.” Jim nodded as if to confirm what Patrick was telling them.

  Julia felt for them. Patrick’s heart was clearly in his eyes. He’d been in the mines for years himself. Of everyone, he knew what they were really up against. The fact that his voice held an edge of panic didn’t do much to reassure the rest of them.

  Voices erupted around her, but Julia could only stare blankly ahead. Could it get any worse? The small group of men left as quickly as they’d arrived, letting them all absorb the news. Julia pulled the numbness back over herself as she felt her mother move to stand close beside her.

  “You need to eat something, dear.”

  Eleanor Alton was definitely out of her element here. There were no committees or activities to organize. Just sitting and waiting. Julia was having a tough time with it and her mother was surely nearing her limit. She couldn’t recall her mother ever being still this long.

  Julia stood and went to get more coffee. She’d had enough caffeine to last her the rest of her life, but she didn’t want anything to eat.

  At the back corner of the tent, she found a quiet place to sit, momentarily. It was less crowded as three families had returned home—at least for a little while. Those who’d stayed were silently waiting for the next report.

  The very thought of going home to the dark and empty house alone sent shivers up Julia’s spine. But what if she eventually had to? What if after all this effort by all these volunteers and rescue workers, they weren’t able to save them?

  Her stomach was in knots, but rather than give in to her fears, she stood and paced some more. It helped ease the tight muscles but even so, the emotions hovered nearby, waiting to pounce.

  Rita Sinclair sat on a folding chair near the makeshift podium. Her crochet hook moved quickly and several hanks of yarn were nestled in a basket at her feet. The light flashed on the metal hook as she added to her swatch.

  “What are you making?” Julia asked.

  Rita smiled weakly and shrugged. “I don’t really know, but I can’t just sit. I’ll go crazy.”

  “That helps?”

  “Yeah. When Jack was hurt six years ago, he was in the hospital for weeks. My crocheting was nearly thirty feet long when I finished.”

  They both laughed and Julia wished she had something like that to distract herself.

  “Would you like to do some?”

  “Oh, I don’t know how.”

  Rita patted the seat next to her. “I always come prepared.” She reached into her bag and pulled out another hook, a little bigger than the one she used, and a bright blue skein of yarn.

  “Make a loop like this.” Rita took the yarn and gently guided Julia’s hands through the first few stitches. “Now just keep going.”

  And so they sat, Rita making smooth rows of multi-colored crochet and Julia building an uneven pile of blue loops.

  It did help. The concentration required distracted her and the movement of her hands eased the need to get up and walk.

  “I taught my eldest girl to do this when she was pregnant and on bed rest.”

  “Did it help her?”

  “I guess. That grandbaby has enough blankets to last her till she’s eight.”

  Julia laughed…then all the joy faded as the image of baby blankets soaked in. She knew she wasn’t pregnant now. If Linc wasn’t rescued…if he never came home… All the fears and regrets seemed to leap out of the shadows. What was she thinking? He might never speak to her again, much less make love to her, not just because he couldn’t. More than the cave-in kept them apart. She’d never—

  “Keep crocheting, child,” the older woman whispered, her own needle picking up speed. “Don’t give yourself time to think.”

  Suddenly, Julia looked up and met her mother’s gaze across the tent. The past came back with a rush.

  Julia had come home with a beautiful diamond on her hand and her heart plastered all over her face. She’d wakened her parents to share her news only to find them less than thrilled.

  Her father’s question still cut painfully across time. Did she have to get married?

  All the sparkle had gone out of her night but the most damaging comment had come from her mother. It hadn’t been a question, but a refusal to accept a “had to get married” child.

  “Don’t expect me to knit any baby booties,” Eleanor had snarled.

  It had taken Linc weeks to get the details out of her. And several more weeks to convince her to talk to them again. They didn’t have to like him, he’d said. But they were her parents and part of her. He wasn’t letting her make any rash decisions.

  And so while the wall wasn’t as high as it could have been, it was still there, standing solidly between them, even in this cramped tent.

  Eleanor walked toward her. Julia looked down, concentrating on her uneven string of looped blue yarn.

  “May I?” The chair beside Julia shifted, scraping in the dirt. “Rita, isn’t it? How do I do this?”

  Julia looked up then, seeing her mother awkwardly grasping a crochet hook and the purple yarn Rita handed her. Both older women laughed as she struggled to get the fingering right.

  But her mother was trying, Julia realized. Really, honestly trying.

  Friday Afternoon, Twenty-Six Hours Underground

  “SIT YOUR ASS DOWN, OLD MAN,” Zach said as he half carried Gabe over to where Linc sat next to Casey. Linc scooted out of the way, then knelt beside Gabe after Zach stepped back.

  Both of them switched on their helmet lights. Gabe squinted in the sudden brightness and Linc turned his off. “What happened?” Linc looked at Zach.

  “He hunched over back there. Nearly fell on his face.”

  “Chest hurts,” Gabe whispered.

  Ah, shit. Linc closed his eyes, then opened them again to look at the older miner more closely. It was hard to tell what his coloring was like in the poor light. His eyes were closed and th
e lines around his eyes and mouth had deepened. Linc grabbed his wrist and found his pulse strong, but quick.

  “Any gas?” Zach looked pointedly at the meter on Linc’s pack.

  They both looked down at the dials. “Nope. No changes,” Linc said. He thought he heard everyone sigh in relief. “Put your air on anyway, Gabe.” He helped the older man with his equipment. “Put Casey’s on, too. We probably should have done that before. He could use the help.”

  “Good idea.” Zach helped the semiconscious man put on the breathing apparatus. He did seem to relax a little. Maybe he’d rest more now. He needed to if he was going to survive that wound to his leg.

  “What’s the matter with Gabe?” Ryan’s panic filled the small chamber, making everyone shift uncomfortably.

  Footsteps told Linc everyone was there. Robert and Mike walked up to stand beside Ryan.

  “He just needs to rest.” Linc had basic first-aid training, but that was all he could offer them. He turned to the others. Each of them looked as afraid as he felt. “We could all probably use some rest.” He didn’t think about the nap he’d just tried to take, the one that had led to thoughts of Julia.

  He scooted over next to Gabe. Ryan followed suit and settled in beside him. Robert headed over to the opposite end.

  Lined up there against the wall, they all stared straight ahead. Zach left his light on and its beam bounced back off the wall, painting them in a distorted glow.

  The silence was heavy. Thick with threat.

  And then they heard it. A sound that hadn’t been there before. A whining, grinding, brutal sound.

  Something, someone, was finally coming for them. Hope flickered for an instant. Then Gabe lapsed into a coughing jag.

  Would they get here soon enough?

  CHAPTER TEN

  Friday Afternoon, 5:00 p.m.

  JULIA HAD REACHED A POINT with the crochet where she could keep going without constantly watching her hands. Granted, it was just a single row that seemed to stretch out for miles, but she felt better, calmer, as if she were doing something.