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Olivia's Mine

Page 10

by Janine McCaw


  Frank was shocked to hear this. John had never let on he was sick.

  “We’ll be looking into some new jack drills that use air and water. They’re supposed to be a lot safer. They’re being tested in the States now. If they work, we’ll get some. The problem with silica is you can’t see it. You don’t know you’re breathing it in. According to Dr. Van Den Broek, the silica gets into the lungs and the body tries to fight it by building up scar tissue. But the scar tissue doesn’t let the lungs stretch, and you can’t breath in as much air as you need. It doesn’t happen over night, they say it takes twenty some odd years before it gets really bad. It’s too late for John, but it’ll give the newer guys some time. Hopefully by then we’ll have some new protective gear, like I said. John’s been working in this mine for over forty years. The mine has been his life. His kids were born and raised here. He’ll be moving back to the city at the end of the month.”

  McMichael noticed Frank’s glass was empty and refilled it.

  “I called you into my office Frank because I’m considering you for the foreman’s job.”

  “Well thank you, Mr. McMichael. That’s quite an honour. I’m just sorry about the circumstances.”

  “It’s part of mining life. An occupational hazard if you will. John knows that. He recommended you for the job Frank. So there’ll be no hard feelings between you. But I want to make this clear, I need a man I can trust in that position, Frank. You’ll be required to rotate shifts and supervise the men. I need to know what goes on in there on a day-to-day basis. I need someone who’s willing to tell me what’s going on with the crews. If someone’s late, I want to know. If someone’s slacking off, I need to know. If someone’s crazy, I have to know.”

  There was an awkward silence again.

  “You mean if someone is a danger to people outside of work as well?” Frank asked.

  “Exactly. The person who gets the job will become one of my confidants. Tell me Frank, if you were in my position, what would you want to know? Where would you draw the line between your camaraderie with your co-workers and the responsibilities of being in a position of authority?”

  Frank thought about the events earlier that morning. How much of the conversation had McMichael heard, he wondered? Frank wanted the foreman job. It was an impressive promotion and the extra money would certainly be welcome.

  “I suppose I’d want to know my co-workers, friends and family were safe,” Frank said, testing the waters. “And I would hope I had the judgment to know when the guys were just shooting off their mouths and when they were a real concern. I’d have to get along with both you and them. I’d still be spending most of my time down in the tunnels with the guys, not with you. I know you’re looking for someone loyal. Loyalty is fleeting, Mr. McMichael, but I’m pretty much a stand up guy.”

  “Loyalty fleeting? You’re quite observant. It is indeed. It’s often bought and sold.”

  The two men locked eyes.

  “I don’t like the way he looks at your daughter, sir.” Frank finally said. “Not that me or the other guys are always looking at her or anything, don’t get me wrong. But he is. Ferguson just gives me the creeps.”

  “I heard the entire conversation this morning, right from Peter’s wolf whistle.” McMichael admitted. “The foreman’s job is yours Frank, as long as you keep an eye on that particular situation. You stayed behind, were late even, because of your concern for my daughter. That’s what makes you a better man for the job than anyone else. John is right about that. And you’re right about Ferguson. Les is a crazy bastard, Frank. But I still need him. At least until I see which way the waters are flowing with this Wolanski character. But I won’t let anyone harm my family. My daughters are precious. You keep your ears to the ground and your eyes on Les. You start Monday. He pulls any crap with you, you come tell me.”

  “Thank you sir. And thanks for the drink.”

  Frank offered his hand to McMichael, but McMichael just nodded at him. Frank took it as a sign the meeting between the two men was over.

  “Oh, and Frank,” McMichael said. “Pretty young thing, I can live with, but watch your own mouth while you’re at it.”

  “Yes sir,” Frank said, closing the door behind him.

  Sarah had his cheque in hand as he left the inner office.

  “Congratulations,” she said to him. “John says to get yourself down to the bar, the first round is still on him.”

  Frank nodded.

  “No one knows that John Cruickshank is sick Frank,” Sarah said. “I think he wants it kept that way.”

  Being payday, Frank knew Olivia wouldn’t be expecting him to come straight home. It was a tradition for the men to knock a few drinks back once they got their packet, so he headed on over to the bar as was his usual way. As he stepped through the door, a round of good-natured applause greeted him. Apparently everyone already knew about his promotion.

  “Cheers to the new boss,” John said, handing him his drink.

  “Cheers to you John,” Frank said.

  Les Ferguson sat by himself in the corner and watched the men for a while. He waited until Frank went into the bathroom, then followed him in.

  “Let me guess,” Frank said, “you’re not here to congratulate me.”

  “You better watch it,” Ferguson said. “This don’t mean a thing. You’d better spend less time watching me and more time watching your wife.”

  “What was that?” Frank asked, his ire up.

  “You think Christina is the only one getting cat calls these days? You should hear what your buddies say about your wife when you’re not around. We used to all look at Lucy, but now she’s locked up crazy-like in the hospital. Who do you think all the guys are looking at these days? It’d be that pretty little wife of yours. The one with the long, dark brown hair that, when it’s not all tied up, goes all the way down her slender back.”

  “Watch it, Ferguson,” Frank said.

  “Or what? What are you going to do to me? Hit me? I’d like to see you try. Then I’ll knock you out of commission for a few days and there will be no one around to stop me from going over to your house and spending some time with your Livvy.”

  John and the boys were startled by the sound of the bathroom door coming crashing down to the floor inside the bar, Ferguson’s back firmly attached to it. Sergeant Wolanski had co-incidentally just stepped into the bar to check on things, it being payday Friday and all.

  “What’s going on here?” the sergeant asked as Frank walked towards the exit.

  “He fell,” Frank said, his voice still full of anger.

  Sergeant Wolanski grabbed Frank by the shoulder.

  “You look like a sensible man,” Wolanski said, taking him outside. “Let’s get something straight. Les only thinks he enforces the town. Maybe he’s got McMichael to back him up on that. But I’ve got a few more rights than Ferguson does, no matter what McMichael wants to think. I didn’t see what went on in there. But seeing as you’re not drunk, I don’t think it was your typical bar room brawl. Which pretty much tells me it was about a woman. I see the wedding band on your finger. I’ve also seen Ferguson stalking a certain teenager around town, and I’ve only been here a few days. So I figure the fight was about one woman or the other. How close am I?”

  “Pretty close,” Frank admitted. “It was both. Are you going to arrest me or something?”

  “Like I said,” Wolanski offered, “I didn’t see anything.”

  “You know how it goes,” Frank said, “he was making up stuff about my wife. The guy’s crazy.”

  “So what you’re telling me is you are actually listening to a man you believe to be a crazy? And you got all worked up about it? Don’t believe everything you hear,” Wolanski said. “It’ll drive you crazy and before you know it, you won’t have a wife to worry about. You’d miss that. Take it from me.”

  Frank thought about what the lawman was saying, and offered his hand.

  “Frank Fitzpatrick,” he introduced himself. />
  “Rudy Wolanski,” Wolanski offered back. “Now get out of here before I start remembering what I did or didn’t see.”

  Chapter Twelve

  This particular year, autumn proved to be the season of renewal, and everyone was looking forward to Thanksgiving. Lucy had spent a great deal of time in the hospital coming to terms with what had happened to her. She had stayed there until after Christmas, not wanting to face the world until the holidays were over. McMichael had tried to reach her family stateside, but there had been no response from them, and he didn’t know, under the circumstances, whether it would be a good idea to find out what had happened to them or not. But Sarah had refused to let it go, telling him that Lucy’s family deserved to know what had happened to their daughter. He thought they must have heard, as the news of the disaster spread quickly, and maybe there was a family reason that had stopped them from being in contact. But there was Sarah, constantly dropping little hints about it, in that off-hand way she had, that no, they were a very close family, and this was very strange. So finally he had sent Frenchie off to find them down the coast. The news had not been good. Lucy’s parents had been killed in a freak accident. Lightning had struck their home, starting a fire, and it was late at night and they never woke up. He dreaded telling her about it, but again Sarah had insisted, and he had done so. It was never easy delivering or receiving such news, but Lucy had been particularly a tough one for him to have to approach. She barely had any emotion at all when he broke the news. It was as if all life had already been drained from her. He wanted to shake her into some kind of emotion, but of course he couldn’t and didn’t.

  Olivia had written home and assured her own family that she and Frank were safe and sound. Letters came from her family with some frequency, and she was delighted when she got them. She had received several letters from her mother, who had given birth to another son. This one they named Daniel and they were both doing just fine. Anne had gone to a convent in Olympia, and also wrote her often. She was teaching at the local Catholic school and finding it to be quite rewarding. Emily had met a young veterinarian and they were to be married this summer. The invitation had arrived in the mail. Billy, her mother had written, was building family homes in Seattle for a local construction company. No sign of him settling down yet, he was enjoying playing the field. Her mother never mentioned Jason. Olivia wondered if he was in some kind of trouble, or in jail. She would have to ask her father some time. Perhaps he was stationed somewhere in the Army, she thought, and they just didn’t know where he was, or couldn’t say. Olivia had read that the United States were actively recruiting for the army. It would be just like Jason. He never could settle down and he would have found the armed forces inviting. America’s involvement was in full force and they needed men desperately. Yes, she thought. That’s probably where her brother was.

  Canada was drawn into World War I automatically when Britain entered the war. This was a prosperous thing for the mine, as the demands for copper were enormous, and more men were being hired to keep up with the growing demand. As a result, the town too was growing. For most of the residents at Britannia, it was a war that didn’t immediately involve them, the action being in Europe, which for all intents and purposes seemed so far away. But as time passed, more and more young Canadian men were volunteering to fight for the allies. As the young men left for the war, the older workers were having to put more time in at the mine.

  And so it was that Olivia found herself glancing at a calendar and realizing that she had indeed been at Britannia now for over a year. There had been no vacation time off for the men, the mine was at capacity, so she still hadn’t had her honeymoon at the resort as Frank had promised. While there was always housework of some sort to keep her busy, she was growing restless. She had made a few casual friends, but she found that the townspeople, for the most part, had grown up together, and because of this, seeding deep friendships was a bit of a challenge. Now that more young families were moving up, she was hoping that would change. Frank had encouraged her to join one of the women’s groups, but she found, like Lucy had initially said, for the most part they were not her cup of tea, the gossiping aside.

  “I’m still worried about Lucy.” Olivia said to Frank one night as she was preparing bread dough for dinner.

  “She’s been through a lot Liv, she needs some time.”

  “It’s been a year now Frank, and she’s still wearing all black.”

  “She’s in mourning, Liv, you know that, and you know you can’t put a time limit on that.”

  It was times like this that she was glad she had married such a kind, understanding man, although lately, she had seen a few cracks in the façade. Frank had been putting in some extra time at the mine at McMichael’s request and his demeanour was changing. He had become overtired and irritable. McMichael was hinting that he was going to create a new, well-paying job as a mine manager, and Frank was taking the bait, afraid to turn any request down from his boss.

  “But I saw her headed to the quilting bee the other afternoon. I remember her telling me how much she hated that group. I suppose I should be thankful that she’s making the effort to get out, but oh, I don’t know, somehow it doesn’t seem quite like the Lucy I first met on the boat.”

  She took the dough and started to knead it, pushing and turning and pulling it towards her with some force.

  “You’re right Liv,” Frank agreed. “She wouldn’t do that if she were back to the old Lucy that we knew and loved. Not that I spent much time with her or anything, but Marty always said she was a handful, and most people seem to agree. Maybe she needs her own welcome wagon. Why don’t you invite her over for Easter dinner? You know we’ve never done that, had her over for dinner, and the holidays are the loneliest, or so they say. Maybe it will be a new start for her, and a new start for your friendship.”

  As Olivia continued to press the dough outward, she heard her dress tear. She looked down to see a small rip in the seam. Maybe it wasn’t such a small tear. Frank had heard it too.

  “Gaining weight there Liv?” he grinned. He came and put his arms around her waist. “Are we pregnant yet?”

  They had been trying since they were married, with no success.

  “No,” she sighed. “We are just gaining weight.”

  She noticed a change in Frank’s expression, and his voice had a bit of an edge.

  “Better cut down on the snacks there Liv, don’t want you turning into your mother.”

  Olivia was taken aback.

  “My mother is a beautiful woman.”

  “Yes, she is,” Frank said. “But she’s not exactly a small woman now, judging by the last picture she sent.”

  “You’re making it sound as if she’s huge. She’s had a few children, Frank. That’s what happens to women when they’ve had a large brood. And my father would never say anything like that to her, shame on you for saying such a thing to me, about my mother or me.”

  “Well, I’m not your father Liv. All I’m saying is you’ve got a great body and I’d like you to keep it that way.”

  He undid the ribbon holding her hair into a bun.

  “I’ve got some time before my shift,” he said, “why don’t we take advantage of it?”

  “I don’t think I’m in the mood,” she replied, pushing his hands away.

  Rejection was not something Frank was used to from Olivia. He clasped each of his hands over her own and drew them up to his chest. A motion, Olivia felt, more of control than warmth.

  “Look, tell you what, go down to the store tomorrow and buy yourself a couple of new dresses.” Frank said, trying to make amends. “It’s about time I treated you anyway. I haven’t bought you any new clothes since you’ve been here. I can’t have the other women saying I’m too poor to buy you anything new.”

  It occurred to Olivia that in this instance, Frank seemed to care more about what others thought of his love for her than what he himself thought his love for her. She wondered when that had happe
ned. How it had happened.

  “I’ll make do with what I have until the summer,” she said solemnly. She always maintained her pride. Her father had once told her gifts received from guilt were not really gifts at all, because giving was meant to be a joyful emotion. “I’ll pick some up when we go to the wedding. I don’t like the dresses they have at the store. They’re too plain. You wouldn’t want the women saying you’re too poor to buy me anything that wasn’t plain.”

  She regretted the last remark, but her feelings were hurt.

  “What do you mean?” Frank asked.

  “They’re all the same, flower prints, all of them. All cut the same, all sewn the same, it might as well be the Britannia Beach ladies uniform. I wouldn’t feel special in them Frank. And you know what? I like to feel special from time to time.”

  “No, I mean what do you mean about us going away?”

  “What do you mean?” shot back. “You know my sister is getting married in June.”

  “Liv,” Frank shook his head, “I won’t be able to get any time off. We’re going full steam as it is.”

  “Well, I’ve got time a plenty. And if you can’t go, I’m going to go myself.”

  “Oh no you’re not,” he said sternly.

  “Oh yes I am,” she rebutted. “I am going stir crazy here. Weren’t you listening to me? I need to get out of this place for a few days. I am bored, Frank! We were going to go away for Christmas, but that didn’t happen because you wanted us to spend our first Christmas together here in our home. Fine. It was lovely. But you haven’t even had a full weekend off since. You are always working. Maybe you can’t make time to take me away, but I can make time to take me away. Frenchie can take me down.”

  He grabbed her by the wrist.

  “What, you want a weekend away with Frenchie?” he said.

 

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