AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You’ll get used to it. You missed the lunch break, so you’ll be called to dinner. No naps and no smoking.”
“I don’t smoke.” Dante heard whispering below.
Constantino bellowed, “Quiet!”
The whispering silenced.
“Okay, take this.” Constantino handed him the oil lamp. “Keep going down. Stop when you get to the laborers. They’re gathering the ore I picked this morning. I’m going to Shaft Two, so Shaft One is your responsibility.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t drop the lamp. It can start a fire. Work hard, but not too hard. Don’t make me look bad. Don’t let the laborers get away with anything. Now get to work. Move over.”
Dante flattened against the wall, and Constantino squeezed past him with difficulty, stepping on his feet. Constantino ascended toward the surface, and Dante raised the lamp and made his way down the steps, descending into the mineshaft. The air got hotter still, and he had to stop to catch his breath.
His nose kept running, and his eyes watered. He wiped his face on his shirt and stuck it back under his arm. There was no air anywhere, only a yellow dust.
He felt sick to his stomach, but kept going. He knew he was getting closer to the laborers when he heard scuffling and spotted moving shadows.
He raised the lamp, illuminating them.
And gasped with shock.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN
Gaetano familiarized himself with the weigh station. On the desk was a thick black ledger to record the weight of the sulfur ore, the picker who picked it, the mineshaft it came from, and the time of day. Next to the desk on a wooden platform was an old industrial scale of questionable accuracy. Affixed to the platform was a makeshift grotto with a homemade sign that read,Santa Barbara, Protettrice dei Minatori, Saint Barbara, Protectress of Miners. Yellow dust blanketed the statue of the saint in her white gown and faded red cloak.
Sun blasted the clearing. Constantino had just emerged from Shaft One, then descended into another shaft. Gaetano shuddered to think how awful picking would be for Dante, yet another travail in his young life.
Gaetano heard someone coming out of the mineshaft and straightened. A figure emerged and Gaetano looked over expectantly, then recoiled. It was a little boy in white shorts, carrying a massive basket of ore on his bent back. He looked about six years old, but his skin was whitish gray, his eyes sunken, and his cheeks hollowed. The right side of his little body had an overdeveloped shoulder and biceps, while his left side was positively spindly. He had a small rib cage, a distended belly, and his legs were bowed.
“Let me help you!” Gaetano jumped up, hustled to the boy, freed theloop from his right arm, and lifted the basket from his back, horrified to find his spine horribly hunched.
“Signore, what are you doing?” The boy looked up with confusion. His face was dirty and covered with fine yellow dust. “Who are you?”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“I’m supposed to bring it to the scale!”
“That’s okay, allow me.” Gaetano carried the heavy basket with effort and set it down on the scale’s metal plate, which creaked. The sulfur ore was in powdery chips, nuggets, and pieces ranging from pale yellow to vivid gold, emitting a noxious odor. Some chips were crystalline, and their facets glinted like golden diamonds in the sun.
“I’m supposed to do it! I’m supposed to!”
“It’s okay, don’t be upset.” Gaetano eyed the scale, shocked to find that the ore weighed fifty kilograms. “This iswaytoo heavy for you.”
“I can do it! I do it all the time!”
“But it’s too much.” Gaetano looked over to see Tonelli was swaggering his way, with a scowl.
“Palermo, what are you doing? Thecarusubrings the ore to the scale. You weigh the load and record it in the ledger. Then he picks it up and takes it to the holding bin near the kiln.”
Carusu. Gaetano translated the Sicilian term, which meant “dear one.” “He’s acarusu? He’s a laborer!”
“Yes, acarusuis a mine boy. Thecarusigather the ore and bring it to the surface.” Tonelli put his hands on his hips. “You stay at the desk. You’re not supposed to help. You’d be doing it a hundred times a day.”
“But he’s achild!”
“They all are. We have thirty of them, ten per shaft. That’s who does this job, in every mine in the province.”
