Fleetie's Crossing

by K. Bruce Florence

  As we passed, Daddy looked up the long hill at the men and shook his head. “Rachel, walking a picket line breaks your heart. It drains a man like a leg full of leeches. The first few days, you hear brave words and feel the excitement. But it has been too long now, and the men are nigh on to desperate. They all have families to feed, and hungry children makes a man want to fight.”

  He pulled the car onto an overlook, and I followed him back as we walked to the mouth of the holler. Just as we turned up the mine road, a truck pulled up behind us, driven by Mike Pridemore, a second-generation operator and son of Old Man Harvey Pridemore.

  Daddy yelled, “Mike, what are you doing out here? Are you behind whatever’s got the men stirred up? Something is different from yesterday.”

  “The old man’s gone and hired us a security man, and we’re bringing up a crew to open the mine. This strike don’t look like it’s got any end. It’s time to bust it up.”

  “Bust it up? Boy, if you bring in a load of scabs to cross the picket and a bunch of hired goons willing to shoot to kill to protect them, you’re asking to start a war. Those men are desperate. They’ve spent the winter and now the summer waiting for the union and you operators to get it straight.”

  Daddy’s voice dropped, and I could feel a charge in the air. Daddy had a trick voice that made him boom out like a loudspeaker, and when he started in that tone, all those around knew they had gone too far. Once, my little brother Logan stumbled into a nest of copperheads as he was chasing my sister Jane with a spider. I remember hearing that booming tone of Daddy’s right before he grabbed the hoe, leaned up against an apple tree, swung it high in the air, and brought it down with enough force to kill the first copperhead. Another swing and a bellow to match, and the copperhead mate lost her head too. If copperheads were not so vicious, I might be tempted to say that the tone of his voice could have stopped them midslither, but you have to cut off the head to kill one. I only had one spanking when he was in full voice, and I learned quick never to mess with that much anger ever again.

  Daddy took a step toward the truck, and Mike jerked his arm back inside. The smirk on his face was long gone.

  “Mike, I’m not going to say it again, but you remember this. These men are sick of watching their women and children go without. You bring in a truck full of scabs, and you might as well put a match to gasoline. It will explode this fight like nothing we have seen here yet. You get on back to town and stop this. I’m telling you, this will put blood on it, and then how you gonna get past that?”

  Mike opened the truck door and stepped down. “Ed, you sound like the rest of the union bastards who are trying to steal our coal mines. Coal belongs to the mountains and to mountain people. Union is not us.”

  “Mike, this is not the place or time to settle this. Stop what you are doing and think. We are not talking Mingo County in West Virginia and their mine battles on Little Cabin Creek. I am warning you, this is more trouble than you want. You would be smart to pay attention.”

  Mike swung back up into the truck and jammed it in reverse. “Ed, what’s right is right. The coal under that mountain belongs to us Pridemores, and by god, we mean to have it.” He backed the truck around and tore down the road, throwing up a cloud of dust as if to underline the threat.

  Daddy stood for a short while as the dust of the red dog slag settled. He turned to see the picketing miners standing as if they were on military alert with every pair of eyes focused on him. As he walked toward them up the steep grade, I wondered whether or not he knew what he was going to say to them. I was sure the hair on his neck had to be standing straight out and his stomach tied in a hundred knots. The situation had moved past talking, and no matter what words spilled out, it looked like he could not stop what was coming.

  The first man Daddy approached in that crowd of desperate men was Johnny Howard. Johnny had already given Uncle Sam one lung when he took a bullet in Germany. Now here he was, filling the other one with Pridemore dust.

  “Johnny, I’ve just come from the settlement. Your mom has taken a fall. You need to get on home.”

  Daddy wasn’t apt to lie, but this was different. He and Johnny had run the hills as kids. You could always hear the sadness in Daddy’s voice when he talked about him. “Rachel,” he would say, “he had a keen mind and big dreams, but they’ve been ripped to shreds by too much trouble and too little peace settling into his life.”

  Burl turned to Johnny. “Get your dinner bucket and get on home. You can walk it in half an hour. Mary needs you more than we do. Go on, boy. Do what I say.”

  Burl stood beside Daddy, while Johnny walked down the hill.

  “Burl, a man oughta figure some way to get more of them out of here. It don’t look good. Look around you. Which one of them do we want to see dead over a few dollars that won’t make a damn bit of difference at the store anyway?”

  “It’s gone past money, Ed. There’s no moving now. The union says stand, and the union’s all we’ve got left.”

  “Hell, Burl. Where’s the union going to be when you have to bury some of these boys? How you going to give up John N. or Guy or Henry? Just as soon as the shooting’s over, the union will pack up and go right over the mountain to make trouble for some other poor devils. Man, think. We can’t just let them stand here and be shot down like they don’t matter.”

  It was strange to see Daddy and Burl argue, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was the right side. The owners spent lots of money opening mines, and the miners spent their muscle and bone pulling the coal out. Both sides gave coal all they had, and where was the right and wrong in the fight? I was with Daddy no matter what, but Burl had Fleetie and the kids to take care of. No matter what happened, the last thing I wanted was for them to be hurt in all this, and yes, even Burl. Even though he was so mean to his kids that I mostly didn’t care about him one way or the other, I had sense enough to know his family needed him.

  “Better get on down the road, Ed. When the scabs get here, there’ll be a hell of a fight. It won’t look good for you to be here. We’ll be needin’ you to get those of us who live through it out of jail. The sheriff will find some way to make it look like we started it.”

  Daddy held Burl with his stare, and I would bet that for the first time in their lives, Burl held his stare right back. At that moment, the separate paths they walked veered even farther apart. Daddy held to the rule of law, and Burl’s independent spirit drove him, and today, friend or not, Burl stood his ground.

  Daddy turned and made his way down the hill with me trailing behind. We got in the car, but instead of driving the Plymouth off the hill, he turned it around and pulled it up the path. He strong-armed the steering wheel until he had worked the car sideways, blocking the narrow mine road. He climbed out of the car and leaned against the fender, took his Camel pack out of his shirt pocket, shook a cigarette up, and reached for his matches. They were on the seat of the car. I opened the door and picked them up and gave them to him. He took the box and carefully selected one of the short wooden matches, scratched it against the rough side of the box, and lit his cigarette. He handed the box back to me, and as he stood there, he looked, for all the world, like he was just taking a rest. Burl never took his eyes off him. Neither man was giving an inch.

  Off in the distance, I saw what I didn’t want to see, and when I turned, I saw that Daddy had seen it too. About a mile down the dirt road, there was a rising cloud of dust kicked up by a huge truck hauling a load of men. They would be hell-bent on getting into the mine for that day’s pay. We watched as the cloud grow larger. Daddy leaned against the front fender and was so deep in thought that he forgot the cigarette clenched between his fingers. As the truck turned into the mine road, the ash glow burned into his finger. He jerked and shook his hand and swore to high heaven. He wasn’t much to curse as a rule, but today must have seemed a good time to break over. Still shaking his hand, he stepped away from the
car and took about ten steps down the road toward the truck. I stayed a ways behind him.

  Donyel Ball, the county’s main hothead, was behind the wheel. I was still mad at him for punching Charley at Coburn’s store. They both reached for the last cold Pepsi, and instead of settling it polite-like, Donyel hauled off and knocked Charley down with one punch. Charley roared back up and was about to take Donyel down when Coburn jumped between them. Donyel left mad, but he got the Pepsi after all. Here was a chance for me to get a little revenge for Charley. Not that Charley would thank me for it, me being a girl daring to fight his battles, but it would do me a world of good. I had the box of matches in my hand, and I slid open the box and pulled out several of the matches. Old Donyel was going to get a surprise.

  I watched as he pumped the brakes and slowed the overloaded truck to a stop.

  “Ed, man, get your car out of the way. These boys is hired legal, and they’re going to work this mine, or by god, there’s going to be some killing going on.” He was strutting his stuff by yelling at Daddy.

  I walked over to the back right wheel, crouched down and acting like I was looking for something I had dropped. With Donyel distracted, talking to Daddy, I jammed a match stick in the tire valve. The match stick was small enough to let the air out slowly, and with any luck, the tire would not go flat until Donyel got halfway back to town. Then Mr. Smarty Pants would be hoofing it and spewing curses all the rest of the way into town.

  Daddy answered Donyel with a soft voice as if he were talking to a gentleman. “I didn’t know you were working for Pridemores, Donyel. Last I knew, you were a Winfield man, and they settled last month. You just lookin’ for any fight you can find?”

  “Ed, move that damn junker. I’m coming through if I have to knock you and that goddamn excuse of a car over the bank.”

  “Hold your tongue, Donyel. Rachel doesn’t need to hear your garbage. I’m not blocking the men. I’m blocking that overloaded truck. I’m going to take the men to work myself. You back your truck out of here and send the men walking up here. They’re getting a private escort for free. No charge to the Pridemores. It’ll save your hired goons from getting buckshot in their backsides. Move it!”

  The men dropped off the truck and huddled in a clutch on the road. They watched Daddy wave Donyel back down the hill and onto the county road.

  Daddy turned to the scabs and spoke in a low voice. “Boys, I know you need work as bad as anybody. You’d have to to be willing to walk past those men up there whose jobs you’re stealing. As bad as this is, I don’t want anybody dead. But more than that, I don’t want any of them up there to do the killing. They are good men, and I can’t see as how any of you is worth killing anyway. Hear me? I’m taking you in. It’ll take a bullet through me to stop you. It won’t be right smart for any of you to drag back. Either stay tight or leave down the hill right now.”

  Five of the men turned and started back down the hill. Somehow, they looked worse to me than scabs. A coward went as low as you can go. The rest of the men followed Daddy as he approached the double picket line of miners.

  “Burl, John N., tell the others back there that I’m taking this bunch of no-good scabs into the mine. You’ll have to shoot me to stop them. You better believe I’m not planning to go to bed tonight with any worthless scab blood on my hands. If any of you men are willing to kill me for Pridemore coal, go on and shoot. But this is how it’s going down today. Tomorrow may be better, but not today.”

  He looked around for me. I thought maybe he had forgotten I was with him. Knowing that he was going to walk through the picket line with the scabs made my heart beat so hard, my mouth went dry.

  Daddy wasn’t about to let me stay in case there was shooting. Knowing he was that worried scared me almost as bad as that line of angry men.

  “Rachel, after I escort these men into the mine, I am going to see Judge Harrison and get an injunction to stop this nonsense. Get on the railroad and walk on home, and tell your mother where I am. Knowing the judge, I’d say it might take me a long time to get it done.”

  I hated to leave Daddy alone with every single person there mad about something—and most of it directed at him—but I knew better than to start any begging that day on that mountain. Daddy had enough to think about. It was time for me to shut up and do what I was told. I started down the mine road and walked until I reached a giant sycamore halfway down to the base of the mountain. I put the tree between the men at the top and me and stood behind it where I was not seen but could watch what was going on.

  Disobeying Daddy was bad, but if Mother found out that I left him up there alone, I would be in trouble with her. That’s the way it was with those two. One minute, they could scream bloody murder at each other, but you just let any kind of threat come at them, and you found out really quick how the land lay. So here I was, right in the middle, but even in the confusion, I knew staying was the better choice. I was scared to go and scared to stay, but staying won out. Scared or not, this was better than any movie I had ever watched at the Margie Grand Theater in town.

  Silence fell over the hill as Daddy led those sorry, good-for-nothing scabs past all those good men and to the face of the mine. Even at my distance, I could see that each miner’s face reflected the bitterness at the defeat, and why not? You could just feel their high hopes of union protection and good jobs flying over the mountain. Too many of them faced powers that were eternally against them, while they and their people were trapped by a poverty so insidious that it ground their lives to shreds. Daddy was gambling that Burl could not raise his rifle against him, and if he wouldn’t, neither would the men standing behind him. He trusted Burl enough, but he could not know if in the crowd of hungry miners, there was a man who had already been pushed too far.

  The men crossing the picket line kept their heads down, and at the mine face, they scurried in their tight huddle to the mantrip. The last two men pushed the wheeled cart into the drift mouth. The miners, to a man, riveted their eyes on the backs of men who, from that day, would be labeled scum. To go against your own in a battle against big power and big money was to come away a traitor. There would be no forgiveness for them in that valley.

  As soon as the last scab disappeared into the mine, Daddy said, “I’m going to town to see the judge. You boys give it up today. I’m going to try to get an injunction against Pridemore to stop this, but it’s not safe for any of you to walk the picket line here now. Burl, you and John N. see that every one of them gets down the hill and pretty quick too. We’ll fight this another day when we’ve got some odds on our side.”

  Burl stood looking past Daddy for what seemed like too long. Reaching into his bib pocket, Burl dug out his makings and rolled a cigarette with hands that betrayed him with their tremble. He pulled out his lighter and flicked open the Zippo, and a small cloud of smoke rose between them.

  “Ed, This ain’t over.”

  “No, Burl, God only knows when it will be. Go on for today. Give me a chance here to see what I can do.”

  For what seemed like a long time, Burl did not move, but then he turned with John N. They walked into the knot of miners, and Daddy walked back to the Plymouth. The narrow path and the awkward turn of the car kept him fighting the wheel for a few minutes, long enough for me to run back up and jump in the back seat. He didn’t say a word to me. Maybe he forgot he sent me home, or maybe he didn’t even know I was in the car. Daddy was a thinking man, and there was plenty to chew on right then.

  Burl and John N. convinced the men to move, and our car and the miners began to make their slow way down the mountain. From the back window, I saw them start moving down the road. Their bodies told the story of yet another defeat—their heads down, shoulders slumped, and thumbs hooked in their pockets. Daddy made a right turn at the end of the mine road, and it was almost a relief not to have to see that cluster of men anymore.

  Chapter 24

  THE HALLS OF
JUSTICE

  When I figured it was safe to break the silence, I finally started with questions.

  “Daddy, tell me about a junction? How long will it take? What good will it do? Can it really fix all this?”

  “Lordy, Rach, my stomach is so knotted, it will take days to let up. Just give me a minute’s peace. It is injunction, and I don’t know what it is going to take to get one. Probably a miracle. No one is bleeding or dead right now, thank god. I’ll think of something. Just let me have a little quiet. No more questions!”

  I shut my mouth. Judge Harrison drove Daddy crazy. Not only was he the one person in the county who held the power in his hands to make life miserable for a lawyer, but he also seemed to take special pleasure in doing so. I guess Daddy made mistakes like all lawyers did, but Judge Harrison loved catching him at it as if it was a game. Daddy said lots of times that he was sure the judge was making a better lawyer out of him, but at the same time, he would appreciate a little less attention to his development.

  As we made our way to town, I could see his hands shake on the wheel. He was so deep in thought, he didn’t pay any attention to the deep burn on two of his fingers. I knew he would have those scars on his fingers for a long time. Mother was bound to get tears in her eyes when she changed the bandages, and she would give me that look that says I was somehow to blame. It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t think I was too, but I didn’t see the burning cigarette in time either, and to make it worse, I gave him the matches. I’m not that good at noticing, but I can do something about where we are going right now.

  Right after Daddy parked the car, I spoke up. “Daddy, I know you said be quiet, but I have a plan for you on how to get past Belle Eggars. Can I talk?”