Ribbons of Steel (3 page)

“I don’t know, Charles. I’ll try to hold off on making this announcement for a couple more days, no more. I need you here without any distractions. Let’s hope we can put down this strike before things get started.”

Charley didn’t think it possible, but he didn’t say so. If Aderley allowed him to go home to check on Emily, make sure she was doing all right, he’d be able to come back and concentrate on the strike.

“Get things worked out down below before you go. And take the next train out. You’ve got two days. And then I want you back here to put a stop to this nonsense.”

Chapter Two

The train from Philadelphia to Owego, New York, was a beehive with many of the men already worked-up over the talk of strike. And word everywhere was a strike was imminent. Charley listened as they ranted on and on about the pending cut in wages.

“I tell ya, Danny, those damn owners dun our pay ten percent like they threaten, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

“Can’t believe everything ya hear, Hennessey. They can’t squeeze another cent outta us. They’re already bleeding us dry as is.”

“That won’t stop them. You mark my words. From what I’m hearing down at the tracks, this one’s gonna travel right on out west.”

“Then we’ll strike. Just like three years ago.”

“Don’t mean it’s gonna work this time, you two. Word I hear is they aren’t concerned whether we strike or not. They can hold out longer than we can, that’s for sure. Best be careful ‘bout spreading rumors. Wait for the facts before you get us all hanging out to dry.”

Charley kept to himself as he listened to their annoying chatter. Normally, he used this time traveling from work to relax and wipe away the strains of the job before he arrived home to his family. But this evening the noise droned on and on in rhythm with the turning of the locomotive wheels. Charley’s nerves twisted him into knots.

Strike. Strike. Strike.

A person had to be crazy to work the hours with the conditions he and the men did. They were tired and had little to show for it at the end of the day. Luckier than most, being higher up the ladder of command as Aderley’s right-hand man meant he got more pay. Still, it was a meager wage, and the compensation didn’t even begin to make up the difference. What they all needed were higher wages, halfway decent benefits, and one hell-of-a-lot more respect.

The voices on the train grew loud and angry. The man named Hennessy stood waving his hands at the other workers, trying to win their support.

“Strike now before they cut our hard-earned wages. We can’t afford less pay. I say we work together to set those big bugs straight. Let them know they can’t shove us around. Are ya with me?”

“Hell, yes, we’re with you.”

“They’re not gonna cut
my
pay. I can’t feed my family now.”

“Let them call out the militia. We’ll band together and face them, hit for hit.”

“Strike.”

“Strike.”

“Strike.”

The entire rail car chanted. Charley wanted to stand up and chant with them. Maybe it was time to get something started for the men who did all the dirty work, month after month, with no time to rest so they could have a life of their own with their families.

Maybe he would join them this time.

But he’d already given Mason Aderley his word. And he always kept his word.

By the time the train arrived in Owego, the clouds had rolled in, and the rain had begun in earnest. The rowdy bunch hadn’t stopped chanting for a strike, and Charley’s head throbbed in unison with their one word cry. As soon as the train stopped, Charley rushed from the confines of the car and dashed between the rails to board the smaller train headed for Candor. He found an empty seat and settled in, relieved at the quiet despite the constant ringing in his ears. He took a cigarette from his pocket, checked his dented silver pocket-watch, then leaned back against the wooden bench with a sigh and lit his smoke. He inhaled; the nicotine circulated throughout his insides soothed his weary nerves.

Thank God the train departed on time. And, thank God the others weren’t traveling to Candor.

The Delaware, Lackawanna, and Western was a small rail running through the countryside with several stops between the Susquehanna River and Cayuga Lake. Candor was one of the major stops along the way. Charley was always able to relax on this last leg of his journey home, but tonight the clickity-clack, clickity-clack of the metal wheels on steel rails droned in his ears like a million tiny buzzing insects. His nerves were about shot to hell. Knowing Tom Scott had a mind to cut wages didn’t help none.

Strike. Strike. Strike.

Charley threw the cigarette on the already littered hardwood floor and stomped the glowing ember out with the heel of his well-worn work boot. He leaned his head back on the edge of the seat to rest. His head bounced back and forth against the wooden seat as the train rattled over the rough rail ties. He gave in and sat up. He looked around. Several families huddled together in the sofa-like seats facing each other. In one seat, two boys had their noses pressed against the soot-covered windows, the bill of their hats tapping the window with the sway of the train. Three demure young girls sat next to their mother dressed in the latest finery from their pointed, laced-up shoes peeking out from under their long frothy dresses to their stylish hats. When was the last time Emily had a new dress? Or a hat? And Catherine? What simple frock did she wear to school these days?

By the time Charley arrived in Candor, he had worked himself up over the inevitability of there being a strike. Being away from his family for days at a time didn’t improve his disposition none, either. God forgive him, he would have the devil’s own time putting up with any one of his six children’s shenanigans. But he needed to check on Emily. If the strike broke, make that ‘when’ the strike broke, he wouldn’t be able to get back home anytime soon.

What a life. What a rut.

Being born and raised in Philadelphia where trains and coal mines were the mainstay of every family, every member of his family had swallowed trains at every meal, breathed coal and steam with every breath. Charley figured God had given him the opportunity to get his family out of the rat-infested, dirty slums of the city and move them to the country where they could breathe some sweet smelling fresh air and not have to live in the awful beggar conditions the trunk lines had created over the past three years.

The train companies owned everything. The general stores, the dry goods stores, the filthy overcrowded tenements houses.

They owned everyone.

Didn’t these owners see what they were doing to the country? If they’d lower the rent on the tenement shacks the workers called homes, they wouldn’t have to scrape up enough money for food. As it was, the railroad took back just about every cent they gave their workers in monthly wages.

Charley looked out the window into the fading light already obscured by the heavy clouds and fog. Still, he could see the outline of the countryside. He’d never seen anything so beautiful as the rolling fields passing by as the train hugged the low hillsides alongside the quick flowing creek on his way home. Behind tonight’s blanket of rain, fields of green stretched for miles. Trees. Trees everywhere. The smell of coal and oil didn’t exist. The heat or stench of sweaty workers no longer filled his nostrils and upset his stomach. He couldn’t wait to get off the train and take a real deep breath; rain or no rain. Just to inhale the sweet fresh air was always worth the long ride home.

The train whistle blew two long, one short, and one long blast as they approached the intersection just before pulling into the Candor depot. One last long blast filled the air. Old Henry up ahead signaled their arrival with his light. First he’d swung the lantern up and down in a slowing motion, then to and fro in front of him, telling the conductor to break. The minute Henry motioned the train to stop, it lurched forward, metal slid on metal, and the engine screeched to a stop.

The hissing of steam exasperated into silence.

Charley took a moment to let the others disembark. He knew in his heart, where it counted, that the railroad was a hardship for him and his family. But it was still his life. It was in his blood.

He stepped onto the depot platform and into the pouring rain. He was drenched within seconds. He vowed, strike or no strike, if he had anything to do with it, his own family’s bloodline of working the rails would end here. It had to. He wanted better for his sons. His family. His Emily.

The torrential downpour and the ensuing mist made visibility difficult. Somewhere in all this mess was his eldest son, Seth. At least he’d better be.

“Pa. Over here,” Seth called.

Like a miracle from above, the mist parted and Seth materialized, walking toward him from the other end of the wooden platform, his footsteps muffled. Rain poured off his son’s hat like the mighty Niagara over the falls.

As Seth drew near, Charley spotted his six-year-old son, Robert, running double time to keep up with Seth’s pace. The tarp wrapped around his thin frame hung down to the kid’s ankles. Robert’s shoes were already soaked through. The kid should be home keeping warm and dry with the others. Seth had no business dragging him out on a night like this. No business at all. He had enough to worry about with Emily being ill; he didn’t need Robert catching his death in this weather.

Charley’s rain gear did little in the way of keeping him dry. He drew the coat tighter around his chest as his heavy boots clomped against the hollow plank floorboards.

“Hello, Pa,” Seth said through the spill of the rain as they drew near. “Before you get your dander up, Ma said Robert should come along ’cause she’s not feeling well.”

“Your sister could’ve taken care of him,” Charley said, tired to the bone. “Your sister needs to get her nose out of those books long enough to help out around the place. Why your mother lets her spend so much time daydreaming over them is beyond me.”

“She’s taking care of baby Sarah so Ma can rest. Michael and Timothy are doing evening chores. Here, let me take your satchel. I packed some hides to cover your gear to keep things from getting drenched on the way home. The horses are just over here.”

Seth disappeared around the corner of the station with his bag. Not for the first time was Charley thankful Seth was old enough to care for things on the farm while he worked the rails in Pennsylvania. Having Seth in charge of the family while he was away gave him the much-needed peace of mind to deal with his everyday problems.

Charley leaned over and tucked Robert’s cap low over his forehead.

“Howdy, kid. You being good for Ma?”

Robert looked up and nodded; his mouth hung open, the hat shadowed his raised eyebrows and wide eyes. What Charley wouldn’t give to be able to spend more time with his family. Already Seth was a grown man, and he hadn’t had a chance to get to know him. Robert would be all grown up and moving on, too. Not to mention the others.

Damn trains.

Charley sighed and turned toward the wagon. He should be thankful Mason Aderley had given him this time to put things in order here at home.

Still...

“Come on, kid; let’s get home and out of this rain before we get good and soaked. Don’t want you to catch a cough. Ma don’t need any more worries than she’s got already.”

Charley lifted Robert into his arms and carried him to the wagon. He placed him in the center of the buckboard, then climbed up beside him. Seth jumped aboard and took up the reins. He led the horses out of the station yard and into the dark night, made even bleaker by the heavy downpour.

Despite his foul mood, Charley appreciated the way his son handled the reins. For a kid of eighteen going on nineteen, Seth had shouldered the responsibility of the family and the running of the farm without complaint. The kid was better at farming and handling horses then he’d ever be.

“You need to find yourself a wife, son.”

“I’m doing fine, Pa. No need to rush.”

“When was the last time you got off the farm? Got to town and mingled with the town folks?”

“I manage on occasion. Gotta get to town and buy supplies.”

“But have you got yourself a woman?”

“I’m working on it, Pa.”

“Good. Good. You’re good at farming, but you need to find yourself a wife. Someone who will make a good farmer’s wife.”

Seth didn’t answer. Instead, he called “gee” to the horses as they turned onto the north route out of town.

“You need someone like your ma. Someone strong, dependable. Someone to give you children, raise a good family. Help out on the farm.”

Again, Seth didn’t answer but remained focused on the horses. Charley turned up the collar on his coat to keep the rain from running down his back. He opened his coat and drew Robert’s thin frame next to him. The boy snuggled into the warmth of his body and nodded off.

They drove deeper into the dark night. Seth knew what he was about, and even the horses didn’t need much prompting. Seth yelled “gee” again, yanked on the reins, and in one fluid motion, horses and wagon veered right. The span of horses whinnied in unison as they left the main route and headed up the hill to the farm. The hill grew steeper, making it harder for the wagon to slosh through the rain-gutted, tree-lined road. The horses had their job cut out for them. Charley kept his mouth shut as Seth managed the pair all the way to the top.

Seth had done a fine job when he insisted on purchasing these two. Hell, his family had done good about many things, being stuck way up in the hills by themselves. They survived fine without him. He wanted nothing more than to spend time helping his family, but he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Not yet, anyway.

Seth maneuvered the wagon to the front of the small, plank-board house. The kerosene lantern in the kitchen cast a yellow glow from the miniature window. Charley’s insides warmed. He was home. This was his refuge; Emily waiting for him. The door opened wide despite the rain, and there she stood.

With open arms.

“Emily,” he breathed.

In seconds Charley was out of the wagon, onto the front steps, and in her arms. Seth, Robert, everyone, and everything else evaporated into the night along with the rain and the worries of the railroad.