“What if I can’t find peace? What if I can’t find happiness in this town?”
Janos stiffened. “You need to find a way and you need to do it soon. Your self-inflicted suffering is destroying our family. I won’t allow it to continue.”
Karina was struck by the harshness of his tone. Was he threatening her? It was very uncharacteristic of him. Filled with remorse and a desperate need to make amends, she leaned into her husband’s face and kissed him. His lips were soft and tasted faintly of cake and frosting. She ran her fingers through his hair.
Soon Janos’s mouth trailed the length of Karina’s jaw, neck, and collarbone, stirring in her a deep and long forgotten wave of passion. He picked her up and carried her over to the worn sofa in the tiny sitting room at the front of the house.
Janos slowly unbuttoned Karina’s blouse and gently removed her skirt, appearing to savor the act of undressing her. She was surprised at how much she was enjoying his touch. She didn’t know if it was the whiskey or the fact that it had been so long since they’d been intimate, but she was suddenly overcome with emotion.
Janos made love to Karina slowly and tenderly, with concern for only her pleasure. He was the exact opposite of Henry Archer. Karina connected with her husband in a way she hadn’t in years, his touch reminding her of the passion he’d ignited within her when she was a girl of seventeen. Karina went to bed that night confused, her head spinning wildly. For the first time in a long time, she wished she could find contentment as the wife of a steelworker.
Nine
HENRY
RIVERTON, JUNE 2, 1910
The pungent smells in a steel mill take some getting used to. That was what a US Steel executive told Henry Archer during an interview for a position with the company over five years earlier. Henry had been in Riverton for 1,834 days, and he still wanted to retch every time he caught the scent of furnace exhaust and sulfur on his way to work in the morning. He would never get used to the foul smells in a steel mill, but luckily, he wouldn’t have to.
His promotion to headquarters in New York City was unexpected. Few details had been revealed to him. He had only been told that he would be working with the company’s new central safety committee, developing standards and protocols. It was a relatively new campaign within the company to ensure workers’ health and safety and to study new methods of accident prevention.
Henry had made some improvements at the Riverton mill over the last few years and had overseen equipment inspections. His contact in New York had informed him that his hands-on knowledge at the plant would be beneficial to the committee. Henry didn’t care what headquarters wanted him to do. He would be happy scrubbing toilets at their offices as long as he was rescued from the blight of Riverton. And, of course, there was the issue of compensation. He had been assured he would receive a substantial increase in pay.
As he strolled into the mill’s offices, Henry spied the superintendent, Herbert Blackwood Davies III, hovering over his desk, his dark brows furrowed. Within minutes of meeting his new boss a year earlier, Henry had known he would suffer at the hands of the aristocratic prick. His name practically said it all—he was an over-privileged jackass born with a silver spoon in his mouth, a hefty trust fund, and ties to influential people. He was younger than Henry by a few years and more attractive, though Henry hated to admit it. Tall and muscular with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, he was the kind of man women loved and men hated. He’d played football at Harvard and had been his fraternity’s president. Henry loathed him.
Everyone at the mill knew Davies’s stay in Riverton was temporary. His Harvard education and family name ensured he would rise to the highest levels of the company. Henry feared, with good reason, that his boss would eventually make his way to New York headquarters to resume his daily torment of him. His only hope was that he might be safe from Davies on the company’s new safety committee. Surely the United States Steel Corporation had more important pursuits planned for a man like Herbert Blackwood Davies III.
Henry approached Davies cautiously, bracing himself for his daily berating. “Can I help you with something, Mr. Davies?”
Davies didn’t even bother to glance up as he continued to shuffle noisily through the paperwork on Henry’s desk. He clearly had no problem invading his subordinates’ work space and exerting his authority. Henry felt his face grow hot.
“I need to see your inspection data for the past few months. We may have a problem. Quickly, Archer.”
“Is something wrong?”
“There have been some unpleasant rumblings among the workers about the death of the laborer at Furnace #9 last week. There are concerns that the crane was not inspected. Perhaps some routine maintenance or repairs were overlooked.” Davies narrowed his eyes. “I will feel much better about the situation once I see the proof on paper. I already assured Bill Jennings that the necessary inspections and repairs were being conducted under your purview.”
Henry swallowed hard. “It may take me a few minutes to locate the documents, Mr. Davies. I’ll bring them to you shortly.”
“I am catching a train for Pittsburgh in twenty minutes. I have important meetings to attend. Make sure you have that paperwork in order. I do not expect anything will come of the grumblings of immigrants, but I need to ensure my record here at the mill is impeccable. Do you understand?” Davies asked, derision in his voice.
“Of course. I’ll take care of it right away.”
“And one more thing … I need you to attend a company function in Shadyside next weekend in my stead. It’s a dinner party at the house of William Rankin. I will be in Chicago for a cousin’s wedding—she’s marrying a Rockefeller.” Davies smiled smugly. “Anyway, Mr. Rankin would merely like to bring some of the region’s mill managers together to exchange ideas over cocktails and cigars.”
“I would be honored to attend,” Henry stammered.
Davies nodded his head and swiftly exited the room, heading down the corridor toward his own office. Henry sank into his chair and began shuffling through stacks of papers on his desk. He sifted through piles of memoranda, work orders, and inspection reports for over ten minutes, pulling out all the safety data from the last three months. However, he was unable to locate the inspection report for the crane in question.
As he glanced at the clock on the wall, he broke into a cold sweat. Davies would be leaving for the train station in less than five minutes. Henry could not let him leave empty-handed. He wondered if he had forgotten to complete a report for the crane. He’d been having a hard time keeping track of all the safety data he’d been falsifying in recent months. It was possible he had missed that piece of equipment.
Suddenly, Henry remembered he’d taken some blank inspection reports home a few weeks earlier. His office had been particularly busy that day, and he hadn’t had enough privacy to complete his reports. He rushed over to his briefcase and began digging through its compartments. He immediately found three inspection reports, one of which was for the crane at Furnace #9. Henry almost jumped for joy as he ran down the corridor and caught up with Davies as he was exiting the building.
“Here is the safety data for the past three months, Mr. Davies. You will be pleased to see that everything is in order.”
“It took you long enough, Archer,” Davies said as he snatched the documents from him. “I advise you to find a better system for organizing your paperwork. The condition of your desk is unacceptable.”
“I’m terribly sorry, sir. I will take care of it immediately,” Henry replied pleasantly as he imagined what Herbert Blackwood Davies III would look like with a missing tooth and a black eye.
After watching Davies head down the street toward the train station, Henry glided back to his office and collapsed into his chair. He wiped the sweat from his brow and pulled a snack out of his briefcase. As he happily nibbled on a banana Karina had packed for him, he fantasized about the dinner party he would attend the following week.
He had only met William Ra
nkin a few times and was rather intimidated by him. He was US Steel’s Western Pennsylvania Area President and was filthy rich. Henry knew a large portion of his wealth was inherited, but US Steel stock had also fattened his wallet. Henry was nervous about attending the party, but figured he should probably get used to fraternizing with the social elite. Who knew what lay in store for him in New York City?
Still weighing heavily on Henry’s mind was Karina. He wasn’t entirely convinced he should take her to New York, but he saw no reason to make a final decision about the matter until a day or two before his departure. It would be foolish to reject her any sooner when he still had weeks to enjoy the pleasure of her company.
Henry had noticed over the past week that Karina seemed hopeful she would soon be leaving Riverton. He’d given it tremendous thought and could not deny that he was leaning toward taking her. Karina had become his addiction, and he wasn’t quite sure he could live without her. He just needed to calculate the risks a bit further. Henry wondered how difficult it would be to ditch her in New York City if he caught a glimpse of a more suitable mistress.
Henry threw his banana peel in the trash and glanced at the desks of the other two managers with whom he shared a workspace. He supposed they were out on the mill floor dispensing new orders for steel, specifying tensile strength and tonnage. It was probably time he made an appearance on the floor. Even though he’d already checked out mentally from his position at the Riverton mill, he needed to crush any suspicion among the workers that he was shirking his responsibilities. Or that he was incompetent.
No one need know that he had failed to have the mill’s mechanics complete maintenance on over a dozen pieces of equipment during the past few months. Henry knew the crane at Furnace #9 was in need of general maintenance, but sometimes there wasn’t enough manpower or time to accomplish everything that was required.
Davies had been on Henry’s back for months about squeezing more work out of the mechanics they already had instead of hiring additional help. Lacking the energy to battle with the overworked mechanics for longer hours and more efficiency, Henry had started falsifying safety data. The paperwork he’d completed on the faulty crane at Furnace #9 stated that Dickie Jones had conducted an inspection and performed routine repairs in late April. Henry just needed to take care of one minor detail. He needed to remind Dickie that he did, in fact, inspect that crane.
Ten
SOFIE
RIVERTON, JUNE 2, 1910
Sofie sat with her friend Marie on the steps of her back porch on an unusually cool June evening. She shivered as she buttoned up her sweater while waiting for her turn at the water pump. Her family shared the pump, as well as a communal privy, with seven other families who lived on the same court. It was a busy place, especially at supper time.
Sofie watched as her neighbors rushed to retrieve water from the well after they’d dumped soapy waste water from their laundry tubs. The women were always in a hurry at this time of day. They had to finish their chores and put a hot meal on the table by the time their men arrived home from the mill. Aunt Anna always said the neighborhood women would have plenty of time for housework if they didn’t waste so much of it exchanging gossip in the courtyard.
Sofie glanced at the privy and counted the number of people waiting in line. There were three, which wasn’t bad. The crooked little structure always had someone standing in front of it, as it serviced more than thirty people. Luckily, it had multiple compartments, so waiting for access to a toilet was not nearly as time consuming as waiting for fresh water at the pump.
Chilly as it was, Sofie was grateful she didn’t have to endure the unbearable smell that usually came from the privy during the summer months. A whiff of it in mid-July could knock a grown man out. When there was a drought and no storm runoff to flush the toilets, the odors became especially foul. Misbehaving kids were forced to connect a hose to the water pump and flush the toilets manually. It was a punishment no neighborhood ruffian wanted to receive.
Sofie glanced at her little brother, Lukas, who was jumping into a pool of dirty water from a neighbor’s laundry tub. The back of his pants was splattered with mud. She thought about the river and the long summer days she would spend along its banks. She had only one week of school left and was growing excited. She turned to face Marie, who was unbraiding her curly brown hair.
“Are you cleaning houses with your mama again this summer?”
Marie bobbed her head. “Just until Papa quits the mill.”
Sofie eyed her friend. “What are you talking about? Your family can’t survive on what your mother brings home.” Sofie had asked her father less than a week earlier if he would quit the mill, and he’d made it sound impossible.
Marie looked down at her lap. “We’re moving at the end of the summer. Mama wants Papa to find work in a glass factory.”
Sofie gasped. “Where?”
“Somewhere north of the city. The pay isn’t as good, but it’s safer. My brothers will have to work, too.”
“But what about school?”
“Paul will be finished after next week, and Peter wants to quit.”
“Peter’s only twelve!” cried Sofie. “He needs to finish the seventh grade, at least.”
“Why? All the neighborhood boys end up in the mills and factories whether they finish school or not. Mama just wants her boys to be safe. That’s all she cares about.”
Sofie thought about Mrs. Radovic and how sad she’d been since Marie’s little sister died of the fever the previous fall. She was only four years old. Since the loss of her youngest, Mrs. Radovic had become nervous, constantly worrying that something terrible was going to happen to her husband at the mill.
“How is your mama doing? Is she getting any better?”
Marie dropped her braid and stared into the court filled with children running about. “She’s still sad all the time. She has terrible nightmares and wakes up crying.”
Sofie knew quite a bit about nightmares. She put her arm around her friend and rested her head on her shoulder. “Losing a child must be awful. Aunt Anna says you never get over it. I understand why your mother is worried about your father and brothers. She doesn’t want to lose them, too.”
“Your Aunt Anna lost a child, didn’t she?”
“Her daughter died when she was only a few weeks old. My cousins Walter and Daniel work in the mines, and Aunt Anna worries about them constantly.”
“Just like you worry about your papa.”
Sofie closed her eyes. Marie knew her too well. “I do worry about Papa. I go to bed every night wishing he didn’t have to work in that stupid mill. He’s been saving money and looking through the newspapers for a new job for as long as I can remember.”
“Your mother must make good money working for Mr. Archer. He’s rich!”
“She doesn’t bring home as much money as Papa thought she would. I think she saves some of it for herself.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say.”
“Marie …” Sofie turned around and peeked through the back door of her house to make sure Aunt Anna was still in the kitchen. She could see her pouring the grease from her frying pan into a Mason jar. Sofie scanned the court to make sure Lukas wasn’t eavesdropping nearby. Thankfully, he was on the opposite side of the yard playing kickball with a toddler. Sofie lowered her voice. “My mother is selfish. Sometimes I think she only cares about herself.”
“I know she’s not the best mother, but do you really think she would keep money for herself? Doesn’t she want to help your father get out of the mill?”
“I don’t know. She never seems to worry about Papa. I’m not even sure she loves him.” Sofie remembered the argument she had overheard between her parents a couple of months earlier. She had crept downstairs after bedtime to get a drink of water. Papa was complaining that Mama was working too many evenings at Mr. Archer’s and missing out on time with her family. He told her how much he missed her. When Sofie peeked around the corner of the sta
ircase to get a glimpse of what was happening, she saw her father try to kiss her mother. But Mama turned her head and said she wanted to go to bed. Sofie would never forget the expression on Papa’s face.
“Your father would never marry someone who didn’t love him. He’s a smart man.”
“I know he is,” Sofie replied. Knowing that fact only deepened the mystery of why her parents were together.
“He speaks better English than anyone I know,” said Marie. “Even better than Sister Agnes.”
Sofie saw it was finally her turn at the water pump. She walked over to it and began to fill her empty metal buckets. She motioned for Marie to move closer so she could tell her the latest news about her mother.
“Mama took me shopping for dresses last weekend.”
“That’s nice, isn’t it?”
“I’m not sure. It was strange. I used to beg her to take me shopping when my clothes were too small. When Mama never made time, Aunt Anna started taking me.”
“So why does she suddenly want to go shopping with you now?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out. Something’s different about Mama lately. She’s being a lot nicer. You know, she took me to Kaufmann’s department store on the other side of town.”
Marie’s jaw dropped. “Is that where she bought you dresses?”
“Of course not! We got a couple at Bernie’s second-hand shop. But you should’ve seen her looking at the clothing in that department store. She said she just wanted to see what rich people were wearing these days, but she seemed pretty serious about those fabrics and patterns. Studying them almost.”
“What do you think that means?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she saved up enough money to buy some fabric for a new dress. But where would she wear it? She’s acting stranger than usual.”
Sofie finished her work at the pump and called over her shoulder for Lukas. She and Marie put the buckets down on the porch steps.
Beneath the Veil of Smoke and Ash Page 5