by Liz Harris
No wonder he was hot, Joe thought, and he wiped his brow again. Then he bent down to the wheel once more and continued rolling it forward.
‘Joe!’
Charity’s voice came from outside the livery stable.
His hands on the wheel, he stopped pushing and glanced at her. She was standing a little way back from the entrance, her lunch pail in one hand and her school bag in the other, with the afternoon sun pouring down on her. She was alone, as far as he could see.
‘I’m workin’, Charity. This is not a good time,’ he called, and he finished pushing the greased wheel to the far wall, carefully leaned it beneath the saddles, boots and long strips of leather which hung from pegs that stood proud of the wall, picked up a piece of rag and wiped the grease from his hands, and went outside to her.
The sudden bright light stung his eyes after the semi-darkness inside the stable, and he rubbed them. ‘I oughta get on,’ he told her. ‘But you can tell me quickly, were the other kids any friendlier today?’
Her face was solemn. ‘A nasty girl pulled off my bonnet and jumped on my lunch pail. I don’t like them and I don’t wanna be friends with them. And I don’t like Miss O’Brien. She’s mean. I had to do chores in the recesses again. But I don’t need friends. I’m learnin’ things in school and I like learnin’.’
A wave of relief ran through him. ‘That’s the spirit, gal.’ He paused. ‘So you’re not thinkin’ of tryin’ to cut your hair again or doin’ anythin’ stupid like that?’
She giggled and shook her head.
He grinned at her. ‘In that case, I’d better get on with my work. Mr Culpepper will be back at any time and I don’t want him thinkin’ I don’t work if he’s not here. When I get home, you can tell me some of those things you learnt today.’
She opened her mouth to speak.
‘When I get home, I said,’ he cut in hastily. ‘I’ve gotta work now. And you’ve got chores to do at home.’
‘I’m gonna do the ironin’,’ she said, ‘and anythin’ else your ma’s got for me, and then I’m gonna do my lessons for tomorrow. Bye, Joe.’ Smiling at him, she waved her lunch pail in his direction, then went down to Second Street and turned into it.
He stood and watched until she was out of sight, and then he turned to go back into the livery.
As he did so, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a movement lower down on Main Street, and he glanced towards it. The Chinese girl from the general mercantile was leaning against one of the wooden posts that supported the covered porch in front of the barber’s shop on the other side of the mercantile, and was staring in his direction.
She must have been watching for Charity to leave school, he guessed. So she obviously hadn’t given up on her, despite her brother pulling her away the day before.
Feeling a wave of pity for the girl, and for how lonely she looked standing there on her own, he nodded in her direction. Although she was probably too far away to see it, he gave her a brief smile.
He realised at once that he’d been wrong – she must have seen him smile as she promptly straightened up, put her hand to the peaked straw hat she was wearing and took a few steps towards him.
Then she stopped abruptly and looked behind her.
Moving slightly into the road so that he could see beyond the girl, he saw that her brother, who must have come from somewhere lower down in the town, was shouting at his sister in their own language, his voice pitched high in anger.
The girl had her back to him so he couldn’t see her face, but disappointment and frustration radiated from her body. As Joe stood watching, her brother grabbed her by the arm, pushed her into the store and went in after her. He heard the faint sound of the wind chimes above the entrance wildly hitting each other.
He stared for a minute or two at the spot where the girl had been, then turned and went back into the stable.
The girl’s brother was about his age, he knew. He’d asked Seth Culpepper about the Chinese family, thinking the girl could be a friend for Charity, and Seth had told him that the boy was the son of Chen Sing, who owned the general mercantile, and that he worked for his father. He’d come over from China a few years before with his father, but his mother had stayed behind in China.
He also knew from Seth that the boy’s sister was Charity’s age. Her mother was a China woman that Chen Sing had wed in California – a sort of second wife – and brought with him to Carter. It seemed to make sense for the boy’s sister and Charity to be friends, but obviously the boy didn’t agree, Joe thought ruefully as he went back to the last two wheels that needed his attention.
Dragging the next wheel to be greased away from the heat sent out by the furnace, he balanced it in the column of sunshine that fell through the open entrance, picked up the tin of grease, and started working.
A shadow fell across the wheel, slicing the light in two.
He looked up. The Chinese girl’s brother was standing in the middle of the entrance, his arms folded, his expression hostile beneath the wide brim of his peaked hat.
Joe put down the grease, again wiped his hands on the oily rag and took a couple of steps towards the Chinese boy. ‘If it’s Mr Culpepper you want, he’s not back yet. But if it’s somethin’ I can help you with, I’d be happy to do so.’
‘I not come see Mr Culpepper. I come see you.’
‘Me? Why?’
Chen Sing’s son put his hand on his chest. ‘My name is Chen Fai. I brother of Su Lin. I come to tell you I not wish Su Lin to speak to girl with Chinese face. I not like this.’
‘I can’t see why not! Your sister looks real lonely to me and there aren’t any other Chinese girls in Carter for her to be friends with.’
‘I not wish this. That is enough.’
‘In my way of thinkin’, Chen Fai, it isn’t. One day I’m gonna leave Carter and Charity will be alone. Although she’s been brought up like an American, to the whites she’s Chinese and increasingly they won’t speak to her. It’s a minin’ town so I reckon you can figure out why. I want her to have a friend when I’m gone, and since she’s got Chinese blood in her veins, and she looks Chinese, I think it’d be good for her to be friends with your sister.’
Chen Fai shook his head. ‘I not think so, and Su Lin do what I say. Chinese girls and boys learn duty to family come first, and girls must obey father and brother. This is Chinese way. Su Lin is good Chinese girl, modest and virtuous. I watch girl with Chinese face. She speak like American girl, wear clothes of American girl, is loud like American girl. Yeah, she look Chinese, but she not Chinese. I think her mother is woman without reputation. Su Lin not make good marriage if she friend of girl like this.’
‘But don’t you think it’s important for Su Lin to have a friend?’
‘Is more important make good marriage. Su Lin stay in house and learn things a woman must know. Honourable father’s second wife teach her sewing, looking after house, ways to respect honourable ancestors. These things make Su Lin good wife one day, and she not bring shame on ancestors.’
Joe raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘But she’s still a child – she’s only seven. A seven-year-old should have a friend.’
‘Family of Su Lin is her friend. Tell girl with Chinese face to stay away from Su Lin.’
‘She has a name,’ Joe said quietly. ‘Her name is Charity.’
‘I not want to know name of girl. They are not ever friends. That is my wish.’ Chen Fai turned sharply and moved away from the entrance, and Joe heard his footsteps echo on the boardwalk as he made his way down Main Street to the mercantile.
Angrily, Joe turned back to the wheel.
Maybe not now, he thought in intense frustration, but one day they’d be friends if he had any say in the matter. He’d have to let things be for the moment, though. Charity was being treated badly at school, and there was only so much hostility a girl of her age could take. But the day would come when she and Su Lin would be friends; he’d make certain of that.
Set
h Culpepper stood in the doorway and stared around the livery stable. His gaze took in the row of greased wagon wheels lined up against the sidewall; the harness he’d left on the bench when he’d gone out that morning, which had been broken then but had obviously since been mended and hung up on the peg outside the nearest stall; the bridles and stirrups that gleamed in the way that they hadn’t when he’d left, and the large heap of dirty straw just inside the livery door, which told him that the stalls had been mucked out and the horses brought in and grained.
He beamed at Joe, who’d paused when he’d seen him come in and was leaning on the handle of the broom. ‘I can see you done good today, son,’ he said, nodding in satisfaction. ‘Yup, very good, I’d say. I reckon you’ve done more than enough for one day and can take yourself off home now.’
Joe grinned at him. ‘From the look on your face, I’m guessing the deal went well.’
Seth beamed. ‘You’re guessin’ right! But like I told you this mornin’, I knew it was gonna go well. I dreamed of pigs last night, and my good wife told me it meant I was gonna strike lucky today. And whatever Eliza says is always right – or so she tells me.’
Both of them laughed.
‘But whether or not a man dreams of pigs,’ Seth went on, ‘I can tell you it’s payin’ cash that gets you a good deal every time. Just you remember that, Joe, for when you’re older and out there dealin’ and bargainin’.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Now be off with you, son.’
‘Okay, then.’ Joe started to move away, then hesitated.
‘What is it?’ Seth asked.
‘You know I told you I wanted Charity to make friends with that Chinese girl?’
Seth nodded. ‘Sure do. And as I recall, I said I didn’t think it likely to happen. The Chinee don’t like the white townsfolk any more than the white townsfolk like the Chinee.’
‘I’m afraid you’re right. The girl’s brother made it clear this afternoon that he wasn’t gonna allow the girls to be friends.’
‘You mean Chen Fai’s bin up here?’ Seth asked in surprise.
‘That’s right. But how d’you know his name?’
‘All Carter business people have gotta meet at times. Young though he is, Chen Fai’s smart, and he’s one of the few Chinese here to speak English.’
‘You said he’d been in America for a while so that’s not really surprisin’.’
‘Yup, he and Chen Sing stayed in San Francisco for a few years before goin’ to work on some land-reclaimin’ project or other in the Sacramento area, doin’ things like buildin’ ditches and canals. But a lot of the Chinee who’ve been here for a while won’t talk anythin’ but Chinese. Not Chen Fai, though. He wants to do business with us so he’s learnin’ the lingo. Probably wants to be able to get one over on us – I’ve noticed his English disappear at convenient times.’ He laughed, and then went on more seriously. ‘It’s a shame they don’t all make the same effort. Look at Chen Fai’s pa, Chen Sing – he doesn’t know a word of English. If the Chinee tried to fit in more, folk might not be so set against them.’
‘Why, that’s the longest speech I’ve ever heard you make,’ Joe remarked with a grin.
Seth laughed again. ‘Maybe it is, but I kinda like Chen Fai. In some ways he’s not unlike you: you’re similar in age and both of you are real hard workers. So you talked to him, did you?’
‘We didn’t exactly talk,’ Joe said, with a wry smile. ‘He glared at me, thumped his chest, pointed at me, told me what was gonna be as far as he was concerned, and then left.’
Seth chuckled. ‘That sounds about his way of doin’ things.’
‘Oh, and his sister’s name is Su Lin. He told me that. And he’s got his mind set against her bein’ friends with Charity, which is mean of him. Charity’s a good kid.’
Seth ran his fingers slowly down his grey moustache. ‘But she’s not Chinese, is she, for all she’s got a Chinese face? And she’s not American, is she, for all she sounds it? You can sorta see why none of them want her. The Chinee have got their ways, like we’ve got ours, and they wanna keep to their ways and not pick up ours. And the whites are watchin’ the price of coal drop lower than ever and fearin’ they may lose their jobs to the Chinee, so they don’t want them here. Don’t be too hard on any of them, Joe, you gotta understand both sides.’
‘I do. I’ve been hearin’ the whites’ side often enough at home. And Chen Fai certainly got the Chinese view across today.’
‘You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, lad. Charity’s a lucky gal to be livin’ with your family.’ Seth started to walk into the stable. ‘I’d get off home now if I were you, before I change my mind. And don’t worry about Charity. She may be caught in the middle, but she ain’t gonna come to no harm. Not here in Carter.’
Chapter Seven
One year later
September, 1876
Dusk was gathering over the town as Joe left the stable and made his way along Second Street, out across the open stretch of ground that led to the miners’ houses and past the shacks recently built by the company.
As he neared his house, he saw that the back door was open, and also the door to Charity’s outside bedroom. She must be doing her schoolwork, he thought, and decided to go round to the front of the house to avoid disturbing her. He’d just started heading for the front of the line of miners’ houses when the door to Charity’s room suddenly opened wider, and Sam came rushing out of her room, head down, clutching a pile of clothes in one arm and carrying a large bag in his other hand. Charity followed close behind him, screaming at him.
Frowning, Joe stopped abruptly and stared at them both.
‘You stop!’ Charity screamed as Sam sped between the vegetable patch and the privy on his way to the open ground. ‘You can’t take them. They’re mine.’
Joe could see tears streaming down her cheeks as she chased after Sam, and he could hear fear in her voice.
He started to run towards them at the same moment as Martha came hurrying out of the house.
‘Now you stop that, Sam,’ she shouted, walking quickly after him and Charity.
His back to Martha, Sam stopped running, threw the clothes and the bag on to the dirt-covered ground and kicked them away from him. Then he glanced back at his mother.
Joe stopped and stared at Sam, open-mouthed. There was a large bruise on the side of Sam’s face.
‘Get back into the house, Ma,’ Sam shouted, pointing towards the house. ‘There’s more of her stuff in there and I’m gonna be bringin’ it out, whether you like it or not. Look at this!’ He tapped his injured cheek. ‘This is what the men think of me for havin’ one of them in my home. Well, she don’t belong here, and I want her out.’
Joe started towards them again.
Charity ducked under Sam’s arm and tried to run round him to her clothes, but he caught her by the arm and pulled her away from them. Bending down to her, he stared hard into her face.
‘Now you listen real good. We’re miners here. And we’re miners who’re gettin’ less money every week ’cos of you Chinee,’ Joe heard him say as he got closer. He saw Charity open her mouth to speak. ‘And don’t say you’re American, ’cos you ain’t,’ Sam snapped. ‘It’s bad enough to have to work alongside you lot all day – then I have to come home and find one of you in my house. And the men sure as hell wonder why I’m bein’ so weak as to let it happen. So I’m not; you’re gonna go.’
‘Leave her be, Sam,’ Martha called, coming up and standing behind Charity. ‘She don’t deserve that.’
‘She’s gotta go,’ Sam repeated, straightening up.
‘She’s not gonna go anywhere,’ Joe said, coming up to them.
Sam spun round and saw him.
‘Now why ain’t I surprised that you’re ridin’ in to her rescue?’ Sam sneered, releasing Charity’s arm and taking a few steps towards Joe. ‘Oh, yeah!’ he exclaimed, tapping the side of his head with his hand. ‘It’s ’cos you ain’t a miner. You play around all day long in
the livery stable, so you don’t know what it’s like to work for hour after hour in the dust and the dirt, workin’ harder than you’ve ever worked before, diggin’ out more coal than ever before, but takin’ home less money than ever before. I do, and so does Pa. And so does every miner in Carter. And this is a miner’s house so you don’t get the right to speak.’
‘This is my house, Sam, mine and Hiram’s, and I’ll be the one who says who gets to speak or not,’ Martha said, her voice cold. ‘And I’m sayin’ I don’t wanna hear from you again. I’m real sorry the miners are takin’ their anger out on you, but Charity stays.’
Sam took a step towards Martha, the bruise livid against his face, which was white with anger. ‘I reckon if it was Joe gettin’ slugged, you’d be throwin’ her things out real fast.’
‘Will you take Charity in, please, Ma?’ Joe cut in. ‘I’m guessin’ she’s got schoolwork to do.’
Martha hesitated.
‘Please, Ma,’ he repeated.
She stared intently at him, and then nodded. ‘Pick up your things and come in with me, Charity, gal,’ she said, turning to go back into the house.
Charity glanced nervously from Sam to Joe, then ran to her clothes and started gathering them up.
‘You can leave your bag, Charity,’ Joe said, with a smile. ‘I’ll bring that. You don’t wanna carry too many things at once or you’ll drop them and they’ll get even dirtier than they’ve already got.’
Her arms full, she stared at Sam, and then, clutching her clothes to her chest, ran after Martha.
‘So what’s all this about, Sam?’ Joe asked when Charity had gone into the house and closed the door behind her.
‘I would’ve thought I’d made that obvious, if the other miners haven’t. No yellow-skinned person should be given a place to live by a white, and certainly not by a white minin’ family.’
‘But you hardly ever see Charity. You’re in the mine from mornin’ to night, and in the town for most of the time you’re not workin’. Apart from when she sits with us for meals, all you ever see of her are the things she’s done to help Ma.’