Us and Them

by Hugh R. MacDonald

  JW picked up the tongs and tried to pull the piece of iron from the forge. After several attempts, he started to get the hang of it. He let his father have the tongs and watched as he swung the hammer.

  “The first swings are hard ones, then you gotta swing easier to get the metal to do its magic. This isn’t all about brute strength, a lot of it’s technique. You need to know where to hit and how hard, especially with some of the smaller tools Alfred said you’re gonna need. So with this piece, watch how hard I hit it.”

  JW saw how the weight of the hammer falling on the hot metal spread it out. Taking the tongs and hammer, he tried to copy his father’s swing but could tell his first swing was too hard, the small piece flattened more than when his father had struck it.

  Andrew stepped closer to examine the slowly forming tool. “It’s okay. Swing about half that weight this time, then I’ll show you how to shape it.”

  JW did as his father told him, and they spent the next half-hour shaping the tool as twilight turned to dark.

  —

  Alfred breathed in the smell of the forest all around him, the pleasant and the not so pleasant odours, each telling their story. The oak and ash and bird’s-eye maple were some of the wood he would teach JW about. Alfred was as silent in the woods as many of his mother’s people were – each footstep carefully placed. Although he did not like killing animals, Alfred was a skilled hunter, only taking what was needed. Having spent so much time on or around the water, he preferred fish to meat but ate both.

  His mother had been Mi’kmaq as had been his beloved Jenean. He had grown up learning to respect the earth and all it had to offer, to use only what he needed so that there would always be some left for those that came after. And to give thanks, always give thanks. From his father, he had learned the ways of the Europeans, and, although he was happier living from the land, he was glad he’d learned from his father. The skills to carve wood into useful things had become his life’s work. As he walked along, he envisioned what some of the trees could become.

  Alfred smelled the wood fire up ahead and called out. “Kwe.” The greeting was quickly returned, and Alfred saw one of his nephews, Daniel, coming through the forest toward him. “Kwe, nklamuksis,” Daniel said in greeting, calling him my uncle. They embraced, and Alfred walked with him to where he was camped. He would stay there this night and head back in the morning.

  Chapter 24

  JW hurried toward home. Day shifts started at seven, and it was close to five o’clock by the time he got home. The leaves on the trees had mostly all changed. The green of summer replaced by red, orange and yellow and various shades of those colours, with some of the leaves already lying on the ground, brown and withered.

  There was evidence of frost this morning, and a chill in the air this afternoon. His mind raced, considering the potatoes and turnips still in the ground. If they were going to have any surplus, he had to get them out in the next few days even if it meant working in the dark. At least the wood cutting could be done anytime.

  JW was getting accustomed to the daily work of the miner. His muscles no longer felt rubbery, nor were they as sore as they’d been the first few nights. Not every shift was as physically demanding as those had been. Sometimes, he and Mickey had to wait until the blasting was complete. JW was glad he didn’t have to handle the blasting powder yet. He didn’t mind drilling the holes, but the black powder was a volatile, unstable substance, and he was in no hurry to learn how to use it. He knew he might have to, but he preferred to load the coal. Mickey had told him that men had been seriously injured in explosions. Some had lost hands and some had been killed. The fuses sometimes didn’t work properly, and when the miner tried to set another charge, often the original charge would go off, injuring him – or worse.

  So many thoughts ran through his mind on the walk home. He was glad his father was almost better and that he could return to work soon. With everyone helping, the cow was getting milked and the animals fed.

  JW’s thoughts turned to Beth. He hoped the training and work wasn’t too hard. Having to care for sick people was not something JW believed he could do. It was difficult enough seeing his father ill. To have to do it day in and day out seemed as mind-numbing as sitting in the dark opening a trap door. Guess a lot of jobs aren’t great, he thought.

  The wind had picked up a little, and there was a hint of the ocean in it. He could taste and smell the salt air and smiled at the thought of summers spent casting about on the lake with the raft’s sail catching a gust of wind and rushing them twenty or so feet forward at a time. A job on the ocean would be great, JW thought. Yep, it sure would. He planned to talk to Alfred this evening about putting aside some hours to start learning how to build the boat.

  As he came close to the house JW saw his parents and several people standing by the barn. Even Gulliver was there, paying no attention as he drew nearer.

  “What’s going on?” JW asked, and then noticed the potatoes and turnips piled in baskets.

  “Alfred’s family came to help out and harvested all the remaining crops,” JW’s mother said.

  The four men who’d come with Alfred looked his way and nodded. They said their goodbyes to Alfred and headed toward the trees that lined the Donaldson's farm. They carried some of the vegetables with them, and JW saw that they had brought some of their own goods that they’d left with his mother.

  “They did all this work and left fish and meat,” Mary said.

  JW saw the appreciation in his mother’s eyes. He felt more than a little overwhelmed himself. He simply had to put the vegetables in the root cellar and his job was done.

  “Wow,” JW said. “Thank you, Alfred. And thank you,” JW called, turning to look where the men had gone. They were standing at the edge of the woods and returned his wave.

  “This will give you time to do other things than work. They are good men, and this is their way of saying thank you for the kindness you and your parents have shown me,” Alfred said, as if answering the questions JW wanted to ask.

  “Your father said you were swinging the hammer last evening, learning how to make tools. Shaping metal and working with wood have similarities. Both teach you to be patient.”

  JW was anxious to get started learning the new skills, but he knew that it was going to be a long, slow process and that he couldn’t hurry the end result. “Well, you’re the teacher, and I plan to pay close attention, but right now I am ready to eat.” He quickly realized that everyone had been working outside all day, and supper might not be ready. “I can cook up some eggs if you didn’t get supper ready,” JW said.

  “There’s stew on the back of the stove and some biscuits and corn bread too. We all ate just before you got here. I got supper ready a little early to feed our guests – Alfred’s family –before they left.”

  JW saw a streak of dirt across his father’s forehead and knew that he had done some of the work too. He was thankful that he didn’t look any worse for doing it. “Please excuse me while I have a quick bite, then I’ll get busy putting all this away,” JW said, waving his arm over the baskets and bags of vegetables in front of the barn doors. He was so happy. The men had saved him days of work and perhaps had saved much of the crop from being ruined by frost.

  —

  JW knocked on the shed door. He heard Alfred moving about inside.

  “Come in.”

  “Hi, Alfred. I just wanted to thank you again for asking your family to complete the harvest.”

  “They are very kind men, willing to help when help is needed.”

  “Do they live close by?” JW asked.

  “Yes, some do, in Little Bras d’Or. They fish and trap, and others work with their hands in wood. The traditional ways are very important to them, and they are very proud men and women. Some of the others continue to migrate to other parts of their lands, going where the spirit takes them.”

&nbs
p; “Do they have a lot of land?” JW asked.

  Alfred clenched his jaw before he spoke. “All of what is known as Cape Breton, mainland Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island and New Brunswick were Mi’kmaq lands,” Alfred said. “The Europeans were granted fishing and trapping rights, but that was not enough for them. They wanted to own the land too, even if it wasn’t included in their treaties. The Mi’kmaq lands diminished in size until all that is left today are small tracts the government chose for us — them.

  “I’m sure if you asked your friend Smitty, he’d be able to tell about the mistreatment of his people by the Europeans and Americans. People were stolen from their lands and used as slaves to make the landowners rich. They fought hard to regain their freedom.”

  Almost as an afterthought, Alfred said in a low voice, “Freedom isn’t free.”

  JW looked at his friend, at a loss for words.

  “Perhaps it’s the same the world over. Those with money and power don’t want to share,” Alfred said.

  JW listened as Alfred gave him a history lesson that was not in any of the books he’d studied in school. He thought it was similar to what JB McLachlan said. Those in power lord it over others and take, and take, and take – without giving.

  —

  “Hiya, Patty. Who’s your friend?”

  “This here’s, Donnie, Red. Glad to see ya back. I heard you were coming.”

  “Hi there, Donnie. I’m just covering the odd shift until Andy’s back. I hear he’s getting better. I also hear JW and Mickey are in tunnel twelve?”

  “Yeah, I think Mickey wanted to go, but it was Anderson who told JW he was going too. They seem to be doing good, Red. I was talking to them,” Patty said. “I spent a couple days there, but me and Donnie are gonna stay on the trap doors up here.”

  “I can’t imagine Andy’s too happy with JW down there. I gotta say, I prefer the rake to the cage myself,” Red said. “Dropping like a rock off a cliff – well, it’s not for me.”

  Patty realized that when someone like Red, who’d spent his life underground, admitted he didn’t like the cage, it must truly be dangerous. He knew slope mining also had dangers; when the cable broke on the rake men could die too – and had – but there was something about the cage and shaft mining that was enough to make grown men afraid.

  “Yep, that’s why me and Donnie are staying up here. Glad to see ya back, Red,” Patty said again.

  “You boys have a good shift and try to stay awake,” Red said.

  “Oh we will, Red,” Patty said, and Donnie nodded his assent.

  Red smiled as he left the boys. He heard Patty talking to Donnie.

  “Best bosses they ever had down here, him and Andy. On my first night, me and JW had a bit of a set-to, and Red let us off with a stern warning. Somebody like Anderson would have fired me before I got to work my first shift.”

  The voices of the boys carried a little ways; Red smiled and hoped they’d be safe. He was very happy to be no longer working every day. Fishing, hunting and tending his small garden filled his days nicely. His needs were simple, and fresh air was a wonderful thing. Red coughed and spat coal dust on the floor, as he had all those years he toiled underground, first as a miner and then as an overman. His bandy legs were no longer suited for walking the tunnels. Andy couldn’t return quickly enough for him.

  Chapter 25

  “Hello, Beth. Hi, Sally,” Davey Brown said, ignoring JW and Mickey. The four of them had been at the matinee and were now on Main Street. “I just got back from Cambridge,” Davey said, continuing to speak only to the two girls. “Oh, I could have gone to Oxford, but my father is a Cambridge man, so I wanted to follow in his footsteps. Not, of course, in mining. Heavens no, there are too many troubles dealing with the lowly, uneducated hooligans – always wanting more. No I plan to travel and—”

  “Yes, well we’re in a hurry,” Beth said. “Enjoy London,” she added.

  Beth held JW’s hand tightly, feeling the tension in his arm. She turned and headed toward the centre of town. Mickey and Sally were talking about the film they’d just seen, and Beth and JW joined in.

  “I don’t think it is very polite to walk away in the middle of a conversation,” Davey said, putting his hand on Beth’s shoulder to stop her.

  JW slapped Davey’s hand away. “We don’t have time to waste talking to you, Davey. Why not go and visit your friends?”

  “I’m sure Beth can speak for herself.”

  Beth looked from JW to Davey. “As JW said, why not go and visit some friends? You’ve chosen not to be ours.”

  Davey looked at the four people in front of him but only took in Beth’s face. He liked her and wanted a chance to show her. He blurted, “How can you choose a lowly paid coal miner over me?”

  JW stood in front of Beth. “Davey, you’ve been asked nicely to go away.”

  The sudden punch to his face drove JW’s head back, and he felt a trickle of blood in his mouth. He spat it at the feet of Davey, who now had his hands raised, his feet shifting side to side. A second punch glanced off JW’s head. He quickly pulled his coat off and threw it to Mickey who stood watching what was not yet a fight, but soon would be.

  Davey looked at JW. “My father is your boss and your sickly father’s boss and probably that fellow’s there with you.”

  JW blocked the next two punches and noticed a look of fear on Davey’s face; clearly he was no longer as sure of the outcome as he’d been when he’d thrown the first couple of surprise blows. JW also noticed that Davey dropped his left as he moved forward, circling. A small crowd had gathered, and JW heard encouragement from some of the onlookers. He knew this wouldn’t end well – regardless of the outcome.

  In a low voice, JW said, “If you just want to end this now, we can,” and saw a triumphant look on Davey’s face. Clearly, he mistook the offer as fear. Davey sprang forward, dropping his left as he prepared to swing. The crushing blow from JW knocked him to the ground, where he lay unable to get back up.

  After giving JW his coat, Mickey looked down at Davey who still hadn’t made the move to get up. “Enjoy your travels, whoever you are, but leave the fighting to real men.” Several in the crowd laughed.

  JW cringed at Mickey’s words. He wished Davey had stayed his friend instead of trying to steal Beth away from him. JW walked back to where Davey lay on the sidewalk. The small crowd had dispersed, leaving Davey alone. Davey took JW’s proffered hand and stood up. No words were exchanged, and JW caught up with the others.

  “I woulda left him there, if it was me,” Mickey said. “Especially since he came looking for it.”

  Beth looked at Mickey and JW. She liked Mickey but knew JW had a kinder heart. She understood living with Shawn McGuire and his bullying ways would have a negative influence on just about anyone, but was glad JW stood for what he believed was right. She hoped Mickey would come to learn the difference between winning and winning well.

  “Nah, Mick, he just wants what he can’t have, and it must be more than he can take. I wouldn’t change places with him for all the money in the world,” JW said, and squeezed Beth’s hand. She squeezed back. He didn’t know what would come of the altercation between him and Davey, but there was nothing he could do about it. If he did lose his job, it was way too late to get back to school. He pushed the thought away. He wanted to enjoy the rest of the day with Beth. They seldom had time off together.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Mickey said. Laughing, he added, “Still, I wouldn’t mind a little of his money.”

  JW laughed, and the girls joined in. They crossed the street and went into the Co-operative store. The selections seemed to be greater than usual, and JW realized that Christmas was less than two months away – time to start thinking about what to get Beth and his mother. He glanced at the bins and shelves spread throughout the store, filled with clothes, food and school supplies. A memory came
flooding in, and he recalled his mother and his teacher, Mrs. Johnson, talking three years earlier. Mrs. Johnson had all but pleaded for there to be some way for JW to attend high school, and his mother, who’d felt badly enough, had said there was no other way, that they’d fallen on hard times and JW had to go to work in the mines. Fortunately, his parents had found a way, and he was able to get three more years of schooling in before ending up where he’d never wanted to.

  The bell above the Co-op’s door clanged as shoppers entered, bringing JW’s thoughts back to the present. The day was drawing to a close, and long shadows were cast on the street.

  “I guess it’s getting close to suppertime,” JW said. “Don’t want to be late for that,” he said, smirking, and waited for Mickey’s inevitable comment on his appetite.

  “I wouldn’t want to feed you,” Mickey said. “It’d take all my pay to keep you full.” They all laughed, knowing it was probably true.

  They parted in front of the store. Sally and Mickey were going to his place for supper. “Da’s off hunting and won’t be back until tomorrow,” Mickey explained. He’d told JW he didn’t much like taking Sally there when his father was home.

  There was crispness in the air as Beth and JW walked toward his house. Beth wanted to drop by and see Beauty. Although she’d like a cat of her own, she was content to visit Beauty. Now with her nursing studies, she wouldn’t have time for a kitten, so this worked quite well. JW had been surprised the first time Beth had held Tennyson. The rat had squirmed for a second or two before sitting comfortably in her hand. Beth was careful to spend time with Tennyson if he was there when she visited.

  “I’m sorry for what happened today,” JW said.