“Charlie. Stop,” Jim turned around and pushed me back the way we came. I’m normally not that brave or forward. My personality matched my body: small and weak.
“Jim, control your tadpole before he really makes an enemy,” Richard bellowed, while the other guy that had been quiet the entire time, stood by and put his hand on Richard’s arm to fully grab him if he needed to.
Jim guided me to the next passage down that we had already passed. We could still hear Richard’s echoed bitching. “That wasn’t smart,” he muttered, giving me a warning look.
“I don’t let others talk about me like I’m not there. I’ve let others walk all over me my entire life and moving here, starting this job, I promised myself that it would end,” I said, in the most serious tone I could muster, even though my adrenaline was making me jittery.
“You need to be careful with most of these assholes.” Jim stopped me at the passage junction and got in my face. “They can be ruthless. Fresh fish are treated like they are to be cast back out into the three rivers until they prove themselves, which was going to be damn near impossible being partnered with me, let alone now that you opened your mouth.”
Not moving away from me, his dark eyes lingered over my lips. But the tension in his entire body was vibrating like a warning bell, making me wonderwhy being partnered with him would have made my life harder.
I stared back and finally huffed a breath. “Fine.”
Stepping away from me, leaving me with an emptiness I wasn’t expecting, Jim started walking down the passage we had passed. After blowing by some more men that Jim ignored, he continued on and turned again, heading in the direction we were originally going. “The rooms are laid out like a grid, for the most part. You can get to where you need to in a round-a-bout way if needed,” Jim stated matter-of-factly.
We came to a stop at a wall after turning one final time. He twisted and looked at me, “This is pillar twelve, in room three. Each room is laid out and numbered. We will be working here until they tell us otherwise.”
At that point he took a swing of his axe at a sideways angle and took a chunk out of the wall. He then took a small step to the side and did it again, catching the lip he created from his first swing. He stopped when he caught me staring at his beautiful form that his jumper was covering up, especially his arms, but they’re still noticeable from the weight of his axe creating definition, nonetheless.
“Go that way ten steps and begin. Swing like a baseball bat, just don’t hit the wall dead on like a hammer and nail. Hit it from the side.” Jim took another small step and swung again, knocking a bigger piece of coal off the pillar which landed with a powder puff thud. The coal hitting the floor and landing on more broken coal sounded like crystal with the way it clinks.
I headed where Jim told me to and stared at the coal wall like it was the most intimidating thing in the world and I didn’t want to hurt it. Hunched over,I plant my feet, looking at the spot I wanted to hit. I swung my axe only to hit air, the momentum almost tilting me right over.
I looked around and made sure Jim didn’t see my embarrassing first swing. He’s looking right at me, making my cheeks burn. Shifting my eyes away from him nervously, I planted my feet again for another swing when I heard, “Stop.”
When I turned toward Jim, he was right behind me. “Turn around and get into position like you are about to swing.”
As I did what he asked, I felt him come behind me with his arms on either side, like he was hugging me from behind except he grabbed the axe in my hands and repositioned my hold. His hands were rough and dirty. His touch sent a shiver down my spine like I had caught a chill in the one place I should never be cold.
“Always start your swing with your hands holding the axe on opposite sides of the handle at a comfortable length. When you swing, let them naturally slide toward each other.” Jim moved my hands himself as he explained what should be happening.
The handle was rough and gritty, scratching my palms as the slide of the wood through my fingers happened, explaining one reason why Jim had rough callused hands. I guess mine would be like that soon enough. Then he kicked my left foot to the side, “Feet shoulder width apart as best as you can, being hunched.”
Once he got me in position, holding my axe correctly, I felt Jim step away from me, giving me space so I could swing without impaling him with my tool. I swung and let my hands slide with the motion. Then I felt the vibration of my axe connecting with the coalshoot up my arms, with a chunk of coal falling to the floor with a crashing clink.
“Good. Again,” Jim said, as he walked away to his own area to get back to work.
I swung.
three
Dry Me Out
Jim
This had to have been the longest and most agonizing shift in my career. My body was hurting more than it should. I hadn’t done anything different on the job that I normally did. The only difference was…Charlie.
He had me tense the entire day. It was hard to work with him nearby. All I wanted to do was watch him. After the initial start, he kept to himself unless I told him to do something else or he had a question, surely seeing that I wasn’t up for conversation. We didn’t get as much done as the other teams, I’m sure, since he was so green, but he didn’t slow me down as much as I thought he was going to either. And he didn’t complain once.
Maybe his dad’s work ethic was genetic. He just didn’t inherit itphysically.
After chipping away at the wall for some time, we loaded the coal into a mine car. We rolled it to the Heart of the Mountain, switched the track, then guided it to the Adit. It got handed off to be dumped by a team of miners in the Tipple, where the coal would either be loaded into train cars or on a steamship floating on the river at the base of the mountain.
It’s never been my favorite assignment, those poor bastards.
From there, the coal either goes by railroad to be taken to local factories in the city, transported elsewhere in the commonwealth state, or shipped off by steamship barges that clutter the three rivers surrounding the city, where the current would carry it to other states in the country. Far away from the gritty, dirty mountain.
Grabbing another cart on the way back, we repeated the process two more times before the four o’clock end of shift whistle. We only stopped for a quick break to share some water and crackers I brought along, since the kid hadn’t brought anything today. I also didn’t want to stop and waste time eating the lunch I brought since we had already been behind.
