Trapper Boy

by Hugh R. MacDonald

  “We’ll get an account set up for you, and each week a part of your earnings will go to pay for the clothes and supplies you’ll need. I’ll explain to Mr. Ferneyhough that you’ll be starting work next week and that you’ll be in as soon as you get your pay,” his mother told him. She pushed open the door, and the clang of the bell announced their arrival.

  JW looked across the bins and saw Mrs. Johnson, his grade-eight teacher, picking up supplies. He smiled and nodded his head as she greeted him.

  “Oh hi, John Wallace. Did you have a good summer? I hope you’re all rested and ready for high school. We’re all counting on you to do wonderfully,” she said with obvious pride. “You have a brilliant boy there, Mrs. Donaldson. He should do marvellously this year. Are you in to buy supplies, then?” she asked them.

  JW saw the grimace on his mother’s face. “Yes, but clothing supplies. John Wallace will be starting in the pit next week. Good day to you, Mrs. Johnson. We have to get along now,” Mary Donaldson said, and hurried toward the clothing bin.

  “But, Mrs. Donaldson, John Wallace has so much potential. Surely there must be some way that he can go to school,” Mrs. Johnson said, sadness now present in her voice. “He can’t work in the pit and successfully complete his studies,” she added.

  Mary Donaldson moved in as close as possible to JW’s former teacher. “The pit is filled with boys with lots of potential. We’ve fallen on hard times and we need the money that John Wallace will be able to bring in. Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

  JW turned and nodded to Mrs. Johnson and noticed she was patting her eyes with her handkerchief. “Bye, Mrs. Johnson,” he said.

  Taking Mary aside, Mr. Ferneyhough spoke in a low voice that was more like a stage whisper. “Now, Mrs. Donaldson, you are behind on your payments already.” Holding up his hand, he continued. “I realize it’s not your fault and that Mr. Donaldson’s hours have been cut back, but–”

  “John Wallace will be starting in the pit next week, and he’ll be in every week to get us caught up,” Mary Donaldson said, her own whisper low enough not to be overheard.

  JW stood beside the bin, trying not to look at his mother, whose face had turned a bright red.

  Mr. Ferneyhough did an about-face. “I’ll be happy to set up an account for John Wallace.” Turning to JW, he said, “Once you start in the coal mine, you got a job for life.”

  The walk home was quiet. Neither JW nor his mother was in the mood to pretend to be upbeat. He hung his new clothes in the closet and closed the door tightly. Thoughts of school came to mind and he picked up the satchel his grandfather had given him so many years before. Picking up the pictures his father had drawn, JW put them inside the empty satchel. He placed a single scribbler and a pencil inside as well and laid the satchel back on his bookshelf. The words of Mr. Ferneyhough came to mind: Once you start in the coal mine, you got a job for life. JW said a silent prayer, hoping that Mr. Ferneyhough was wrong, but the words of Mrs. Johnson echoed in his head: He can’t work in the pit and successfully complete his studies.

  JW lay on his bed for a long time. He watched through his bedroom window as the sky turned dark. There were no stars and the moon was hiding behind the clouds. A short while later he heard his father moving around in the kitchen below. In less than a week, he would be down there with him getting ready to go to work as well. He sighed loudly as a hopeless feeling came over him. Stories of the pit no longer interested him. Even the books on his bookshelf no longer held intrigue.

  Chapter 15

  “Come on, JW, time to get up,” his father said, as he shook him gently. “Remember I told you we were going to the mine today to get you familiar with the place. We’ll drop by the breakers and see where the coal is screened. That’s where the youngsters pick the rocks and shale from the coal. That’s backbreaking work. A trapper job is easier on the body.”

  “Why don’t the boys at the breakers do the trapper jobs then?” JW asked.

  “They’re too young. Some of them are only nine or ten years old and aren’t allowed underground.”

  “Don’t they go to school?”

  “Not many. Well, let’s get moving. As soon as you have a bite of breakfast, we’ll get on the road,” his father said, and rubbed his son’s head.

  A quick wash, followed by a bowl of porridge, and JW was ready to go. “Bye, Ma. See you in a couple of hours. If Beth comes by, tell her I’ll see her later.”

  JW ran to the barn and scraped out Lightning’s stall. He filled the water bucket and threw some hay in with the horse. “See you, boy. I’ll brush you down later.”

  The walk to the mine was quiet, with few words exchanged between JW and his father. He still couldn’t believe that he was actually going to be working there in a few days.

  “Are we going down in the pit today, Da?”

  “No, just to the breakers. You’ll go in the mine on your first shift. That’s how it works. We’re coming up to the breakers now.”

  JW stood beside his father and watched as coal on conveyor belts sped toward the boys, who deftly picked rocks and shale from the coal. Their blackened faces and hands disguised their ages somewhat, but their slight stature revealed their true age. Children. They’re just children, he thought.

  The rushing coal had no mercy as it struck the tiny hands of the boys who laboured there. JW was shocked to see that some of the boys were missing fingers and others had fingers bent and twisted.

  “Look at their hands, Da,” he said.

  “I know. Some of them will never be able to go underground as miners. You can’t be a pick-miner unless your hands are in good shape. And you can’t support a family on a breaker boy wage.”

  “How come he’s getting to go trapping?” JW heard one of the boys ask.

  “Yeah, it don’t seem fair. He gets to go to a good job,” another boy said.

  “Hey, you!” a boy called out.

  JW turned to where the voice had come from.

  “You should have to take a breaker job before getting to go down to the trap. Hope the rats don’t eat you, or the ghosts.” Several boys broke into laughter. “Yeah, lots of dead miners down there looking for the trap boys that fell asleep on ’em. It’s so dark you can’t see them coming. Wooo … watch out for the rats.” More laughter followed and JW was glad when his father signalled it was time to leave.

  “Pay no attention. They’re just trying to scare you.”

  And they’re doing a good job of it, JW thought, and felt fear send a shiver down his spine. He wished he could stay on the surface, anything but going down into the darkness.

  “Do the rats attack people? Can you see them coming?” JW asked, his fear escalating.

  “Like I told you, it’s pitch black down there, and you can’t see your hand in front of your face. Sometimes your oil lamp burns out before your shift’s over. And the rats do come pretty close, but they’re just looking for crumbs from your bread.”

  His father’s explanation did nothing to allay his fears, and JW swallowed several times. No further questions were asked, because each new answer made him more afraid.

  Chapter 16

  “They were like little men. And angry that I was going to be a trapper boy,” JW said. He watched Beth’s eyes open wide. “Some of them only come up to my waist, but they act like they’re bigger than me. After we left the breakers, we walked to where the rake goes down to the mine face, the deeps. The rake is also known as the trip. The entrance looks like a gaping hole in the side of a hill. I would have liked to go down to where I’ll be working, but Da said that’s not allowed.”

  JW felt Beth’s hand slip into his as they walked along the riverbank. He squeezed her hand and felt it tighten on his. They walked for several minutes without talking.

  “If you have to miss some days from school, I’ll help yo
u catch up on Sundays.”

  “That would be great, but I don’t plan on missing too many days.” This time Beth did not remind him of Mickey and his inability to continue in school.

  They left the river and walked through a wooded area that came out on a bluff overlooking the ocean. JW’s gaze took in a section of shoreline that displayed black sand. A large seam of coal protruded from the water, and he shivered as he thought about going down into the ground and out under the ocean. Beth slipped her arm around his waist, as if sensing his thoughts.

  They stood for a time looking at the water and the whitecaps that danced on the ocean’s surface. The churning water matched the turmoil that JW felt. He knew he had to go to work but wanted desperately to attend high school as one of the kids. He wondered if his sense of adventure would be lost forever once he entered into the blackness.

  The setting sun spread an array of colours across the horizon in stark contrast to the thoughts running through his mind. It would soon be night, so they’d have to hurry to get home before dark.

  “The sun looks nice, doesn’t it?” JW said, breaking the silence. “We’d better get back soon, or your ma will send a search party.”

  “I didn’t realize the time. Yeah, we better get on home or Ma just might,” Beth said and once again held his hand.

  They made good time heading back the way they’d come. Usually they parted at Donaldson’s gate, but tonight JW decided to see her home. It was much darker than usual, and he didn’t want her alone on the road after nightfall. They reached the top of the hill above Beth’s house, and JW released her hand.

  “I’ll wait here until you get to your door,” he said. “Goodnight, Beth, and thanks for a great day.” As she smiled, he added, “I enjoyed the whole summer. It was fun fixing up the fort and swimming, but I didn’t finish all the books, did you?” JW asked.

  “Once I heard you were going in the pit, I stopped reading. I still have several chapters left in the Count of Monte Cristo.”

  “Me too. I thought about all the digging he’d done and it made me think of the pit, so I put down the book. I plan to finish it though. Perhaps it has a happy ending.”

  Beth leaned toward JW and kissed him. “I had a great summer too. I hope the pit isn’t too hard and that you’ll be at school most days.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Goodnight,” Beth said, and started down over the hill. She walked with purpose and made it quickly to her door. She turned and waved. JW returned the gesture.

  Buoyed by the kiss, he thought perhaps they were boyfriend and girlfriend or soon would be. He started on his way home but turned to look at Beth’s house. He was surprised to see she was still standing outside watching him. He waved again, and after waving back, Beth went indoors. Twilight had turned to darkness, but the crescent moon guided his way. He heard an owl hoot and picked up his step. The thought of the dark woods increased the beating of his heart. He let out a shrill whistle, and moments later he heard the racing of feet coming toward him. Gulliver bounded along the road, head down, as fast as he could run.

  “Hello, Gullie. How’s my boy, huh?” JW dropped to one knee to pet him, happy to see his loyal friend.

  Gulliver’s response was his usual full-body shuffle. He wagged his tail, licked JW’s face and barked as if to say, “I’m here to protect you” or “nice to see you.” JW wasn’t sure which it was, but thought perhaps it was a little of both.

  Chapter 17

  JW tried to eat some of the stew his mother placed before him.

  “You better eat a bit of it, ’cause you’ll be awake all night,” she said. “Don’t want you hungry down there.”

  He ate a few spoonfuls, but just wasn’t used to eating at ten o’clock at night. “I’m trying, but I’m still full from my first supper,” he said. Forced laughter filled the kitchen as everyone pretended tonight was like any other night. But it wasn’t, because tonight was the first night that John Wallace Donaldson would be entering the mine.

  The stew was hot and delicious, but his throat felt as if it was closing in, and he laid his spoon down. He swallowed the last mouthful, aided by his tea.

  He’d spent the last few hours lying in his bed, trying to sleep until it was time to get ready. The stars were bright tonight and would keep him company on his walk to the mine. Besides, his father would be with him for the first few nights. Although his father had asked for them to be on the same shift, it would only be for tonight and the next two. BESCO’s president, Roy Wolvin, had cut the men’s hours so they’d only be working three or four days a week. JW and his father would be working different shifts spread throughout the week.

  JW pulled on his coat and reached for his satchel.

  “What have you got there?” his father asked.

  “My books for school. Tomorrow’s the first day,” JW answered. “Is there a place to wash up in the morning, or should I come home first to wash?”

  “There’s a place to wash, but you might be better off coming home first to have some breakfast, so you can leave the satchel till morning. You might be a little tired after your first shift...” His father’s voice trailed off.

  “I know, but I gotta go on the first day to find out what classes I’ll have and who’ll be my teachers,” JW said. He laid the satchel aside and picked up the lunch box.

  “My, look at the time,” his mother said. “You best be on your way before you’re late.” Mary Donaldson kissed her husband and hugged her son.

  JW saw the look on his mother’s face and tried to reassure her. “Don’t worry, Ma. I’m not scared. Da told me everything I need to know, so I’ll be fine.”

  “I know you will, dear. Just keep your wits about you, and remember to stay awake, ’cause it’s an important job you’ll be doing,” she said as JW and his father went out the door.

  “I will, Ma, don’t worry.”

  JW felt something wet touch his hand. He pulled sharply into the path of his father.

  “Whoa, it’s only Gulliver wishing you goodnight,” his father said. They laughed and his father clapped him on the back. Gulliver followed them for part of the journey, but JW thought it best the dog return home so his mother wouldn’t be alone. Dropping to one knee, he hugged Gulliver.

  “Go on home, boy, and look after things.” Gulliver stood for a moment before turning and heading back home.

  “I am sorry that you have to go to work. With the hours cut back, there isn’t any other way to pay the bills.”

  “I know, Da.”

  “It was bad enough when there was the company store. At least we could get our supplies. But many miners, me included, didn’t like that most of our pay went back to the company. We thought the strike would give us more money so that if we wanted to we could buy from the Co-op and other merchants. We were on strike for better rights.”

  “Wasn’t it the Premier who sent in the army to keep the men off mine property?” JW asked.

  “Yes it was, and it didn’t help when Wolvin’s right-hand man, Vice-president McClurg, said we’d go back to work on their terms.”

  “I remember reading Mr. McClurg’s quote from the Sydney Post, talking about the miners. ‘They can’t stand the gaff,’ I think was what he said. What did that mean?”

  “That’s what he said, and it meant they’d put so much pressure on us that we’d give in and go back to work, and that only made the men more determined to stay on strike. The men are still angry over last year’s strike, and you can’t blame them. The coal company tried to starve us out. William Davis was killed, and the company stores are gone.”

  “I guess the only good thing that came out of it is that Premier Armstrong was defeated,” JW said.

  “That, and McClurg leaving Cape Breton. With any luck, Wolvin’ll soon follow.”

  JW felt a little nervous when he rea
lized that they had almost reached the mine.

  “You know, the men have a tradition. They let the rake travel faster than usual whenever there’s a new man going under for the first time. It’s their way of welcoming the man to a new way of life. Actually, it’s a way of scaring the good out of a fella. Don’t let on I told you, and act afraid,” his father said.

  “I think I got the afraid part down already,” JW said.

  “You’ll have a fella with you for part of the night, but after that, you’ll be on your own. So pay attention to what he says. Not everyone you meet is gonna be friendly, so just do your job and you should get along fine. Okay?”

  “Okay, Da.”

  JW heard the men laughing as he and his father approached. They were talking about dances and card games they’d been to and ones they would be going to. The men stopped talking as he drew nearer.

  “Looks like we got some new blood. We got a special seat for you up at the front of the rake since tonight’ll be your first trip down the travelling way,” a large man said.

  JW was glad he’d paid attention to his father’s lessons. He knew the travelling way was the tunnel the men and horses used to get in and out of the mine.

  His father whispered, “You’ll be fine, don’t be scared.”

  “Okay, Da.” He wondered why his father didn’t ride in the trip with him, but he soon noticed no one took the seat beside him. It was all part of his initiation.

  “Keep your head low and hold on,” someone said.

  The beating of his heart pounded in his ears as the rake started its descent. Soon it felt as if his heart would explode from his chest as the trip picked up speed. He didn’t have to close his eyes because the darkness was complete. The blackness was overwhelming and a scream escaped his lips.