The Upside of Hunger

by Roxi Harms

  the town."

  Seeing how George was dressed, he thought back to his own arrival at four in the morning in the dead of winter. Lucky for George the spring air had the first breath of summer in it.

  He was proud of George. His younger brother had never been as reckless as him. Barely nineteen, it would have taken some real guts for George to leave home and come all this way.

  "Adam, I'm really sorry about this, but I gotta tell you something," George said as they walked. His tone alarmed Adam. "Mom really wanted you to have some meat from that red-haired pig that you got us last year. She packed two jars in my suitcase—a liver sausage and a blood sausage. And she made me promise not to eat it before I got here. Did those goddam immigration guys in Quebec City make you open your suitcase and dig through it?"

  Adam breathed a sigh of relief and laughed. "Yep."

  "Well they saw those jars and they said there was no food allowed and they took them. I tried to explain that they were for you, but they just ignored me. Mom is gonna be upset about this. She really wanted you to have a taste.""

  "Don't worry about it, George," said Adam, unlocking the side door of the house and letting his brother into the basement. "I would have loved to taste it, but it's water under the bridge now. You can have a shower, and I'll make us a bite to eat. Then we'll go out and have a look around. I want to introduce you to the landlord too. He and his wife are good people. He owns a construction outfit and he's given me a bit of day labour. I want him to meet you and remind him we both need work."

  Over the spring and summer, the landlord came downstairs often to offer a day or two of work. When Adam and George didn't have anything lined up with him, they walked the streets of Prince George, picks and shovels over their shoulders. The small town was growing fast, and work digging holes and trenches for septic systems was plentiful.

  "What's wrong with your hand?" asked the landlady at the supper table one evening later that summer. Once or twice a week they invited the boys for a meal, a welcome break from what they could cook on their hot plate downstairs.

  "It's nothing," said Adam. "Just got a small cut from the shovel, digging a septic hole last week." Truthfully, the wound had been increasingly painful.

  "Well it looks very infected to me," said the landlady. "I'm taking you to the hospital in the morning to have it looked at."

  The next morning Adam was admitted to the hospital for intense antibiotic therapy.

  "You won't be digging any holes with that hand for some time," said the doctor as he wrapped up the examination.

  CHAPTER NINETY-NINE

  "There's nothing here worth anything," Adam said quietly to George. They were a couple of hours hike up a mountain side in the lower mainland of British Columbia. "And he's not looking too good," Adam continued, motioning at the old man sitting on a stump nearby, who, until 18 hours earlier, had been in the bed next to Adam in the Prince George Hospital.

  At the old man's urging, they had taken the Greyhound from Prince George and then trekked up the mountainside to have a look at a goldmine claim he'd staked years ago. He was ill, very ill, he'd explained as they'd lain there in the hospital, and with no children of his own, he thought the claim would be perfect for Adam and George. Finally, Adam had thought. The break he'd been looking for in Canada. Something with a future.

  What they'd found was an old rotting log cabin, quickly returning to mother earth, and faint signs of a small mineshaft that had long ago caved in and been reclaimed by the rugged hillside.

  "Adam," the old man called out suddenly, his breathing ragged. "I need to get back to the hospital." Adam looked at the man's bloated midsection and sickly grey pallor.

  "Walking up here was too much," Adam said to George. "Wait here with him."

  An hour later, Adam returned in a pickup truck with a farmer who lived partway down the mountain. They loaded the old man into the back and headed down the overgrown track towards the bus stop.

  For months, Adam and George turned over stone after stone.

  Their next stop was Vancouver, where the job situation wasn't encouraging. Their savings were nearly depleted by the time, a few weeks later, Adam got a tip that a mining company called Bralorne was hiring. When the interviewer clarified that they were hiring experienced miners only and asked him about the last mine he'd worked at, he froze for a second. Then the sign he'd seen from the little window of the deportation train five year earlier flashed in front of his eyes, and the words ‘Tata Banya' came out of his mouth. Fortunately, that was all the proof they needed of his mining experience. Before accepting the job, Adam insisted they find work for his brother. Soon they were packing their meagre belongings back into their ratty suitcases and setting off to another unknown destination.

  Bralorne Mine was a full day's travel out of Vancouver. The first leg of the trip was by boat, up an inlet flanked by soaring mountains. A ship travelling along the other side of the inlet looked like a toy against the backdrop as Adam and George stood at the railing in the salty air, gazing around awestruck. Most of the other passengers sat inside on the benches sleeping, heads lolled to the side. They were all headed to the mine.

  That night, he lay in the Bralorne bunkhouse, listening to the silence. It was more comfortable than the bunkhouse at the sawmill. They had their own rooms and the walls were insulated. Boarding the boat at dawn that morning seemed like a week ago. They'd disembarked from the boat in a place called Squamish, taken a train to a crossroads called Shalalth, then climbed on to an old bus. As the bus navigated the switchbacks, taking them up the mountainside to Gold Bridge and then on to Bralorne, Adam chatted with the men in the seats around them as best he could. George had passed the miles quietly, watching out the window as they climbed up and up.

  At the mine, a supervisor had shown them to the bunkhouse, then over to the company store. They needed mucking gear before going down the mine shaft early the next morning, he'd explained as he helped them pick out yellow waterproof pants and jackets, and rubber boots with steel toes. For light they each purchased a hard hat with an electric light mounted on the front and a cord hanging down the back to the battery that attached to a thick leather belt. Their first pay cheques would go to the company store to pay for their gear. This seemed like a big, solid operation, Adam thought to himself. A guy could work his way up and make a future at a place like Bralorne.

  At first light, Adam and George followed a herd of guys into the room they called "The Dry" and put on their new mining gear like everyone else was doing. The supervisor they'd met the night before came in and sent George off to learn how to work the rail cars, then introduced Adam to a big Swede named Arnie.

  "Arnie here will show you how we do things here at Bralorne. Next week we'll set you up in your own patch."

  Adam could feel the big Swede scowling at him as they munched on their sandwiches a couple of hours later. It had been obvious that he was a fraud as soon as Arnie asked him for "a three-footer." He'd looked blankly at the Swede, then gazed at the row of tools and equipment until Arnie had come over and grabbed it himself. Adam couldn't finish his sandwich. If he got fired, George would get fired too. They needed these jobs. He put the half-eaten sandwich back into his lunch box on top of the other one.

  "Arnie, you can see. Today for me, first mining. Me, my brother, we need work. You teach, I learn quick." The big Swede had stopped eating to listen. "You teach?"

  Arnie looked at Adam for a minute more and reached down into his lunch box for his other sandwich. Neither of them spoke as Arnie finished his lunch. Adam was beginning to wonder if Arnie had understood him. When Arnie closed up his lunch box and moved to stand up, Adam did the same. As they turned to head back to the stope, Arnie threw his arm over Adam's shoulders.

  "Okay, Adam. One week, Arnie makes you a miner." The big Swede grinned at him. Adam grinned back.

  A week later, Adam was pulling on his rubber pants, getting ready to head down into the mine when the supervisor called out to him from th
e doorway. "Adam, you'll be starting on your own stope today," he announced. He was a miner! He looked past the supervisor, who was explaining how to find the stope he'd been assigned, and grinned at Arnie. Arnie smiled back and gave him a thumbs-up.

  It wasn't long before Adam qualified for his blasting certificate as well, allowing him to set up his own fuses and blast his own holes. Without having to wait on the pace of someone else's blasting, he began collecting bonuses for exceeding the quota of ore each miner was expected to muck out in a week. Bralorne was working out well.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED

  1953

  "Anybody seen George?" Adam called out in the shower room one afternoon the following spring. It was the end of the shift and George typically beat Adam out of the shaft.

  "Not since this morning."

  "Nope."

  When he'd dried off and put his regular clothes back on, Adam headed over to the bunkhouse to look for his brother. George wasn't there either.

  "Adam, I've been looking for you," said the supervisor as he spotted Adam coming back out of the bunkhouse. "I think you'd better head over to the hospital. Your brother had an accident today. I'll drive you up." On the drive, the supervisor explained that a rail car had slipped off the track and pinned George against the wall of the tunnel. He'd been hauled out of the shaft and rushed over to the hospital. "I haven't heard how serious it is. But we got a real good doctor here," the supervisor assured Adam.

  George wasn't conscious, so Adam went searching for the doctor.

  "He's got a nasty cut about three inches long in his belly, but luckily it didn't puncture any organs," the doctor explained. "The wound is patched up and we've got him on some strong painkillers. He'll probably sleep the rest of today and through tonight."

  The next afternoon his brother was awake when Adam rushed in after work. He paled as he told Adam how the rail car had come at him.

  The following week, they moved George back to the bunkhouse with orders to stay in bed for another three or four days before going back down the shaft.

  On the third day, Adam made a decision. He couldn't put his younger brother back in danger. "I got another bonus this week," he said to George. "We have enough to live on for a while. Let's get out of here and find something else to do." As they headed for the office to hand in their resignations, George looked happier than he had since they'd arrived.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED ONE

  Next, they hitched a ride to a dam site they'd heard was hiring. Sure enough, the dam needed fallers for a short contract. Excavation was due to start three weeks later and the area had to be cleared by then.

  The chainsaw wasn't anything like the one he'd used up north in Prince George. The blade was more than twice as long and there was a handle on the end of it for another guy to hang on to. When Adam saw the trees they were to fall, his jaw dropped open. The trees he'd fallen in Prince George had been 12, maybe 14 inches across. These were three or four feet!

  As they approached the first tree, his mouth was dry. Using every bit of logic he could think of for how to fall a tree this big without killing himself, he took it slowly, thinking through each step. Then, sending George a safe distance away, he held his breath as the monstrous trunk began to lean slightly, and then to teeter. The old-growth giant crashed through the canopy, then cut through the air with an audible whoosh, before hitting the ground with a bone-shaking whumpf! The earth trembled as the massive tree bounced before becoming still. Adam and George were silent, staring at the felled giant for a few minutes before reluctantly looking around for the next tree.

  Three weeks later they were on the road towards the big city once again, their wallets a little more cushioned against whatever might unfold next.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWO

  Adam set the Vancouver map down on the bed beside him and stood up to stir the eggs and flip the slices of Spam. He'd walk further east tomorrow and see if there were any job sites out that way. Then, in the afternoon, he'd revisit neighbourhoods he hadn't been to in a few weeks. There had to be a construction site somewhere that didn't hire only from the union hall. He'd spent a few precious dollars when they'd arrived in Vancouver to buy some mud mix and a few bricks to practice with. He wasn't going to lose another bricklaying job.

  "It's ready," said to his brother, who was napping soundly, face turned to the wall.

  George rolled over and yawned. "I'm starving," he said as he shimmied off the end of the bed and sat down at the table.

  As Adam flipped the hotplate switch to off, the landlady appeared in their doorway.

  "Hello, boys. Vell, Georgie, do you like your new job?" Mrs. Kalanovich asked, her thin frame leaning against the door jam.

  "Yes. Thank you," replied George. His brother hadn't picked up much English yet.

  "He says it's a nice small crew and a good boss," said Adam. And non-union, he added under his breath.

  "Zat ees good. You're lucky to have a bruzzer vis a job, Adam. Now he can pay zee rent and look after you, and you don't have to vorry." Mrs. Kalanovich turned to go.

  Adam sullenly scraped the pan onto his plate, sat down and opened the bread bag. George looking after him. Hmmmpf. He didn't need looking after, he did the looking after.

  The job site he found the next day looked like a pretty big project. The yard was filled with pallets of blocks and bricks. Adam took a deep breath and walked into the yard towards a guy who was standing idle, watching the crew work.

  "My name is Adam Baumann," he said, holding out his hand.

  "What can I do for you?" the man replied, shaking Adam's hand.

  "I am a Class One Journeyman bricklayer and I see that you have a lot of blocks and bricks here, and I wonder if you need another bricklayer." As he spoke, Adam pulled his tradesman's certificate and the booklet listing his qualifications and skills out of his pocket and held them out to the guy.

  After glancing at the papers, he looked back up at Adam.

  "German?" he asked, handing them back. Adam nodded.

  "Well, I can't read German," he continued, "but they look pretty official. I could use a good bricklayer. We're building a service station here, whole thing out of blocks and bricks. Hard to get good bricklayers. You a member of the union?"

  Here we go, thought Adam. "No sir, I would like to maybe, but I don't know how to join this union."

  "Well, you have to be a member of the union to lay bricks in this town. You're going to have to join."

  "I will do what I need," Adam assured him.

  "You got your own tools?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "You can start tomorrow. Let's see what you can do. We'll worry about the rest later. Name's Dave Pipe. See you at eight tomorrow morning."

  "Yes, sir! Thank you, Mr. Pipe. I will see you in the morning." Adam smiled broadly and shook Dave Pipe's hand vigorously.

  "Call me Dave."

  "Thank you, Dave. See you tomorrow," said Adam as he turned on his heel, grinning.

  Adam whistled as he strolled back towards West Georgia Street and the boarding house.

  The practice paid off. His work on day one wasn't perfect, but he knew it was passable. The second day was better and by the third he was confident. This was his fourth day. Morning coffee break was almost over when Adam joined the crew of Danes and Swedes for a quick smoke. He'd been finishing up a section of the back wall and wanted to make sure his last joins were perfect. He was getting faster with the Canadian trowel.

  "Hey, Baumann, I've been meaning to ask you something," a short Swede named Jimmy called out as Adam approached the group and lit his cigarette.

  "Yes?" said Adam cautiously. He didn't get a good feeling from Jimmy.

  "I haven't seen you around the union hall. You a member?"

  Adam didn't answer right away. He didn't have a choice though. They'd find out if he lied.

  "No."

  Jimmy stood up and walked towards him, a scowl on his face. "You're working in a union job," Jimmy said in a low voice, stan
ding close to Adam. "You can't work a union job unless you're a member of the union. You're taking a job from a union man."

  Adam looked at Jimmy for a minute. No one else was saying anything. He took one more pull from his cigarette, dropped it and ground it out with his boot, then turned to go back to work.

  "I'm gonna report you," Jimmy called after him.

  "This is looking good, Adam. I like your work." Adam looked up to where Dave was standing over him a little later and wondered what was coming next. "Jimmy's all fired up about you not being in the union. He's a real union man, Jimmy. I'd like to keep you. But you're going to have to join the union or they'll be on my back. I'm not allowed to employ bricklayers who aren't members, so we gotta get this straightened out. No union, no job."

  Adam finished the last bit of the join he was working on and stood up.

  "I will join the union, no problem, but how do I do it?"

  "Head down to the union hall on Broadway, and talk to the secretary, a guy by the name of Paget. It's almost quitting time. You should probably head over there now or Jimmy will beat you to it."

  "I got bricklayers out of work, waiting for jobs," said Mr. Paget, looking up at Adam over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses. "I can't accept any more applications until the existing members have jobs. When they've all been placed, I can look at your application."

  "But I have a job. I need just the union," said Adam, confused.

  "That's right. A union member will take that job, since you can't do union work until you join." Mr. Paget turned his attention back to the document he'd been studying when Adam came in.

  Clearly the discussion was over.

  "If you take this job away from me, I can't get another job, because I'm not in the union," Adam said to the top of Paget's head.