Coal Black Blues (2 page)

Chapter Two

Until she stepped inside the fellowship hall, Caroline hadn’t realized how chilled she’d become in her short-sleeved black dress. She shivered as she accepted condolences and exchanged greetings in the large room. Many were already eating and a number of seats were taken. She picked up two plates and filled them, one for her, one for Neil, without thinking. Her plate held several salads, some barbecued brisket, a homemade hot roll, a fried chicken breast, and some seasoned green beans. The other held three pieces of fried chicken, two thighs and a drumstick, mashed potatoes with cream gravy, bread and butter, beans, plus corn and three strips of catfish. As she made her way toward two empty spots at the end of a table, Neil entered.

He’d removed the hardhat and washed most of the coal dust from his face, but even across the room, Caroline noticed the engrained black in his hands. Some of it buried deep into his skin but the most obvious were the old cuts, forever outlined in coal black.
Coal tattoo,
she remembered they called it. Neil glanced around and she held up the plates. He grinned and headed her direction, pausing only to pick up two plastic cups of iced tea. She watched as he wound through the tight tables and crowds, speaking to people with the easy way she remembered.

When he slid into the chair across from her, he grinned. “Thanks,” he said. Then he glanced at the food and his smile widened. “You remembered well.”

Caroline pretended not to understand but she did. She’d chosen his favorites without thinking about it. “So you work at the mine, then?”

His eyes crinkled with good humor. “Isn’t that pretty obvious, smart lady?”

The joke stung more than it amused, but she swallowed her ire. “I was just asking, Neil. Which mine?”

His fingers tore the skin from a piece of fried chicken and he ate it before answering.

“Coal Central,” he said. “There ain’t many left, not like when we were kids. It’s still the biggest and there are a few independent mines. I won’t touch that MTM work, though.”

“MTM?”

Neil sighed. “Mountaintop mining, also known as MTR, mountaintop removal mining. It’s where they go in, bulldoze down all the trees, dig into the top layer of a ridge or mountaintop, then extract what coal they can find. It’s destructive to the environment and ruins the country. Big companies do it, mostly, when they can get by with it.”

“That’s terrible.” It also explained the bare ridges she’d seen in her travels. “Isn’t that illegal?”

Laughter, dry as old bones, burst from his mouth. “It ought to be, but the big mines have big money, Carrie. Things ain’t simple anymore. While you were up there playing with the big shots in DC, the mine companies were destroying our mountains and the big loggers were raping the forests.”

His bitterness was so real Caroline could almost taste it. She swallowed down the defensive words in her mouth. Somehow, she didn’t think it would help to explain she’d lived in Fairfax, Virginia, a bedroom community for the nation’s capital and home to old money, or to tell him how much she had come to loathe her life with Dylan. “Then why work at the mine?” she asked.

“What else is there around here?”

“You went away to the Army. I thought you planned to make it your career. So why did you come back home? Didn’t it work out?”

Emotion lit his eyes with blue fire. He tossed down his half-eaten chicken leg and met her gaze. “It went great,” he said in a quiet tone that said it didn’t. “I went through basic training, then non-com school, and then graduated to Afghanistan in the early years. That was 2001. Since I was one of the youngest in my unit, I ended up on mortuary detail. Maybe you can guess what that is but if not, I’ll tell you. I had to go out and pick up the pieces, when there were any, of my fellow soldiers when they were blown to bits and recover their bodies. Me and the rest of the detail had to go through soldiers’ stuff to send it home. It was awful, Carrie.”

“I understand it would be,” she said. His terse description brought images she’d rather not imagine. “So you got out of the Army?”

“Eventually,” Neil replied. “First I got off mortuary detail and spent two years out in the desert. I thought I had some kind of hillbilly magic or dumb luck right up until a roadside bomb hit our vehicle. Two died, two lost both legs, and I ended up with third-degree burns. I thought for a while I’d die, too, and so did the Army.”

Caroline stared at him, tears brimming. He met her gaze and returned it.

“The scars don’t show unless my shirt’s off,” he said. “In case you were wondering.”

She had been, but her throat clogged with unreleased sobs that prevented a reply.

“They’re from the neck down on my torso,” he told her. “The scars are mostly on my back, some on my chest and belly. I got medevaced out from the field hospital to Landstuhl, Germany. I spent six months there while they cleaned my wounds, fought infection, did skin grafts, most of the time lying on my side. Then I was mustered out of the service, sent to Dover, then to Walter Reed. So, yeah, I was finished with the Army and they were finished with me. Do you have any more questions?”

“No, Neil. I’m so sorry I asked. I didn’t know.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t figure you did, Carrie. I never talk about any of this. I don’t know why I am now, but I’ll finish, then I’m done with the subject. All I could think about when I was lying in one bed after another, in pain I never imagined possible, wondering if I’d end up a freak or if I could work at all, so messed up emotionally that I figured I was broke past fixing, was home. I wanted the mountains, their solid security, the fresh air and green forests, the clear streams, the rugged rocks and the solitude. So I when I got out of the last hospital, I came back to West Virginia. And I got a job, then another, and ended up at the mine. Now I’ve been there ten years, give or take. That’s my long story, short version. That’s what I was doing while you ate country club dinners and went to formal dances and all that shit. You wouldn’t have cared if you’d known.”

Oh, yes I would,
she thought. Images of scarred and charred flesh haunted her mind. Her heart ached for his troubles. She stretched her fingers across the table to touch his hand. Neil’s fork clattered to the table and his eyes widened as if he understood the significance.

“I would have. And I do, for old time sake if nothing more.”

His lips twisted into a grimace. “Nothing more, Carrie?”

Somehow, she’d hurt him with her words and that hadn’t been her intention.

“I didn’t say that,” she whispered. God, he’d done it again, the way he always had. He snared her and she yielded, giving him power to inflict hurt. Unable to take more, emotions already on overload because of the funeral, the divorce, the new beginning, and now Neil, Caroline bolted from the table. Half the mourners lifted their heads to stare as her heels tap-danced over the tile. She dashed up the stairs and into the women’s restroom.

Sobs ripped from her throat and she sank down on the floral-print sofa in the anteroom. Tears blinded her and she cried hard, until her nose clogged and chest ached. Grief for her uncle factored into the tears and fear for the unknown straight ahead. Most of it, though, was for Neil McCullough’s sake, and nothing else. Memories caught her fast and with her head in her arms, she thought about what was.

First time she remembered Neil, he was six and she five on her first day of school. Caroline hadn’t wanted to ride the big yellow school bus, a vehicle that reminded her of the bumblebees that frequented her mother’s hollyhocks. They stung and so she had feared the bus might pose some unknown danger. So she had balked at the road and clung to her mother worse than beggar’s lice in an autumn meadow. “I don’t wanna go,” she had cried then drummed her heels in the little Mary Jane shoes ordered from Sears. Her mamma, already running late for her job over in Charleston, had been frazzled and desperate. “Honey, you have to go to school,” Mamma had said. “And you have to ride the bus. All the other kids are riding it.”

“I don’t know them!”

A cluster of children had stood a few feet away. Some had whispered to each other and pointed. A few laughed, but one dark-haired boy had separated from the rest. He had walked over and Caroline had noticed his blue eyes. “I’m Neil,” he had said. “I’m in first grade and if you want, I’ll be your buddy on the bus. It ain’t scary at all.”

Caroline had let go of her mother’s hand and taken Neil’s. And he became her first friend and protector. Within a few months, they were best friends who played together. She hid and he counted and then found her every time. They had splashed in the little clear creek and ran through the woods hand in hand. Sometimes they were Indians, sometimes pioneers or pirates.

He had lived three doors down in Coaltown, in another of the tired, old one-time company houses. His daddy had worked in the mines and his mamma stayed home to keep house. Caroline’s mommy worked as a library aide at a big high school in town and her daddy drove a coal truck. Neil had an older brother and a younger one, but Caroline was a lonely only.

They had liked the same music, had watched the same television shows, and somewhere around the year she turned thirteen, their relationship had shifted into something different. By fifteen, Caroline was Neil’s girl and everyone knew it. She didn’t ride the bus anymore but rode shotgun in his beat-up old car. Everyone, including Caroline, had figured they would get married someday, raise a family, and grow old together. She had worked at the store for her grandparents and saved most of her money for the future.

If they hadn’t moved, then maybe things would have gone the way she dreamed. Instead, the summer she turned seventeen, everything changed. Her daddy’s Freightliner rig had rolled over an embankment in the Kentucky hills and he died. Her mother decided to accept her sister’s invitation to move to Baltimore, Maryland and share her home. Caroline had balked at the idea and begged to stay with her grandmother, Papa having died by then, or with Uncle Jim and Aunt Jan or another relative.

“You’re all I have left, Caroline,” her mother had said, sad-eyed. “I need you to come with me.”

“But I need to stay with Neil!”

And if she had, things would’ve been so different, she thought through her tears. But that was then, this was now. A new round of grief seized her as harsh sobs racked her body. Caroline cried until she couldn’t anymore. Lethargy consumed her and she sprawled on the couch in a heap. After fifteen minutes, she forced herself up, splashed cold water on her face, and tried to fake a calm expression. She walked out of the ladies room and into Neil’s solid body.

Caroline stumbled and would have gone down if he hadn’t caught her. “You okay?”

She glared at him through red-rimmed, puffy eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it.”

Caught between his hands, she made no move to break free, savoring the warmth of his flesh against hers, even as anger toward him bubbled within. “Well, I am.”

Neil released her, then held up both hands in a surrender gesture and released her. “Okay, okay. I came to tell you I’m taking off and that I’m sorry if I made you cry. I didn’t mean to, Carrie.”

His words eased her inner turmoil. She yielded to momentary temptation and leaned closer. Caroline cupped her left hand against his cheek, bristly with unshaven whiskers. “I know,” she whispered. “And for the record, I did and do.”

With what scraps of dignity she retained, Caroline stepped away and descended into the fellowship hall to retrieve her purse. Sheryl met her halfway. “What happened?”

“Nothing important,” she said. Caroline preferred not to talk about the incident. It belonged to her and maybe to Neil, no one else. “I’m tired, though, and I’m opening the store early in the morning so I’m going home.”

“So are we,” her cousin replied. “Susan’s bunch left a few minutes ago. She wanted to say good-bye, but you weren’t around.”

“I’m sorry I missed her.”

“She’ll be back around,” Sheryl said. “Go get some rest. You look like you could use it.”

Bless her heart for not mentioning Neil.
“I could, thanks.”

Caroline needed a long, lavender-scented bath, a cup of hot chocolate, and sleep. No memories, no emotional upheaval, nothing but quiet solitude and preparation for her new endeavor.

If she got any of the above, she thought as she turned onto the narrow ribbon of road, she’d be lucky. Caroline vowed not to think about Neil, but knew she would, and she did.

Chapter Three

She woke craving Starbucks, then remembered it wasn’t an option. If she wanted coffee or a latte, she would have to make it. Caffeine equaled a need, a major one. Without it, Caroline might never make it through the crucial first day at the store. So she headed down the narrow staircase into the kitchen, rooted out her grandmother’s ancient stovetop percolator and added coffee from the fresh can she’d bought on a supermarket run last week. While it brewed, she showered and donned a pair of navy-blue slacks with a red polo-style blouse, as close to a uniform as she could create from her closet. On impulse, she pulled her hair up into a twist and secured it on top of her head.

Two cups of coffee, brewed strong and drank black, revved her inner engines although it couldn’t make up for lost sleep. Caroline made toast and then added minimal makeup. She brushed lipstick across her mouth, spritzed on cologne, and before she lost her nerve, grabbed keys and purse. She had planned to be there at five in the morning but it was already almost six thirty.

The sun touched the top of the mountains with golden brilliance, but in the valley, it remained dark. She followed the curve of the narrow road into town and pulled up at the store.
At least there’ll be one car in the lot today.

She dropped the keys twice while unlocking the door and then walked inside, palms damp and regretting the coffee. It jangled her nerves and rocked her tummy. In the harsh brilliance of the overhead fluorescent lights, she realized she’d miscalculated, big time. Although Caroline had spent a day cleaning the closed store before Uncle Jim’s last days and had dumped outdated stock, dust coated almost every surface. A sour stench from the backroom proved to be some dairy products she’d neglected to deal with. Empty cases reminded her she hadn’t arranged for any new deliveries and she grabbed a notepad from a shelf to jot down the vendors she needed to call; bread, milk, soda pop, sandwiches, beer, and more.

I should’ve hired some help, but no, I thought I could do it all myself. Now I have to and there’s so much to do. I’m going to have to clean everything until it sparkles, get the coolers and cases stocked, confirm if there’s fuel in the tanks to supply the pumps. I can’t open today. What was I thinking?

Point was, she hadn’t been. With a sigh, Caroline headed toward the storeroom to see what might be on hand. As soon as she flipped the light switch, she saw the trails of mouse pellets heading toward the exits. A few spider webs caught the light and reflected it back, and she spotted fat-bellied spiders at work. A shudder rippled through her.
I hate spiders and mice.

Something skittered across her foot and she gasped. Two centipedes struck out in opposite directions. Near the back door, a slender snake undulated toward the great outdoors and she screeched. Caroline retreated into the store and cried hard tears of frustration. This endeavor would be hard, she realized, much more difficult than she had anticipated. Uncertain if she would be equal to the task, she almost wished she hadn’t come to West Virginia or decided to stay. Maybe she should have told Uncle Jim this wasn’t the life she craved any longer, that she had a husband and routine waiting. But she hadn’t and she did want to be here. Coaltown, no matter how small, quaint, or different, was home. If Caroline changed her mind, returning to Virginia wouldn’t be an option. She would have to find a new beginning somewhere else in a place strange and lonely.

This is better.
Coaltown provided familiarity and family and Neil.

Caroline shoved the thought away. She’d rather not think about him or allow dreams to build because they would eventually crash. Too many years apart, too many life events had occurred to make a return to what they once shared possible, let alone plausible. The Midway Store and her grandparents’ old house were all she had remaining.
I have to succeed here. I have to because I’m out of options.

She came from tough mountain stock, miners, farmers, and people who’d made it through a hardscrabble life. Caroline inhaled a deep breath, got off her ass, and headed into the dingy bathroom to wash away her tears. In the dim light, she studied her reflection for a moment, then shrugged.
It doesn’t matter what I look like. It matters what I do.

Updating the restrooms had to be a priority, she decided, but only after she got the place cleaned and in shape, then stocked and open for business. A glance at the clock behind the cash register confirmed it wasn’t quite seven AM. Caroline had the day at hand and nothing else to do so she decided to get busy. She found one of her uncle’s old flannel shirts in the dinky office and put it on to protect her blouse. Then she tied a bandana from the store over her hair and grabbed a broom.

Her frontal attack on the spider infested storeroom removed all the webs and sent spiders scuttling for cover. She stomped a few beneath her shoes, shuddering with disgust and resolved to find some hedge apples. Granny had sworn by them, vowed they kept spiders and other insects at bay. By eleven AM, the storeroom floor sparkled and she’d made progress out in the shop. Clean shelves and coolers were now ready to hold stock.

Coming up for air, Caroline paused, sweat trailing down her face. She longed for a cool drink and something to eat, but neither could be found at the store. Unless she wanted to drive to the house or to another shop, she’d have to stay hungry. With an effort, Caroline plopped onto the stool behind the counter. She collected her wandering thoughts and made a mental list of what else needed to be done.

Call the supplier and a pest control company. Scrub the bathrooms again. Then go find something to eat before I keel over and then sleep for about twelve hours.
Eyes closed, she leaned against the counter with her elbows and although she meant to resist, she drifted toward sleep.

“Carrie.”

Neil’s familiar voice cut into her consciousness. She roused, certain she had dozed her way into a dream. “What is it?”

“I brought your dinner,” he said, using the term colloquially. In DC, for most of the modern world, dinner would be an evening meal, but in old-fashioned mountain talk, it meant the food served at midday. “I figured you’d be working and forget to eat.”

And he had been correct. She parted her lips to deny it but her stomach rumbled so she gave up. “You’re right. I’m hungry.”

“Then let’s eat.”

His presence loomed huge in the room and sucked away most of the air until she had trouble breathing. After the many years apart, despite their brief yet volatile encounter, Neil didn’t seem real. He had been the dream she kept, the memory she pressed and pasted into her heart. Facing the reality proved to be harder than she ever imagined.

They feasted on fried chicken, the skin crisp, the white meat tender and succulent. Neil had paired it with potato salad and small ears of corn, each skewered on a stick. “It’s delicious,” Caroline said as she ripped into her first piece with gusto. “Where did you get it?”

“Supermarket, in town.”

Town
meant Charleston, the state capital city. Every other burg in between was as small as Coaltown or close in size. “Didn’t you work today?”

As soon as she asked it, Caroline knew it was a pointless question. If he’d worked in the mines, he would be on shift now.

Neil shook his head as he reached for another piece of chicken. “No, I had a doctor’s appointment at the VA Clinic.”

A crunchy bite caught in her throat for a moment. He appeared to be fine, she thought, color good, eyes clear, and didn’t act ill. “What’s the matter? Don’t you feel well?”

“I’m fine. It was a regular check-up, that’s all. It was time to evaluate some of the scar tissue and evaluate the inside scars, the ones that don’t show.”

His level tone and calm expression hid turmoil within or she’d missed her guess.
Only someone who knew him forever could tell,
Caroline thought.
Something’s bothering him about it, but I don’t know what.
“Thanks for coming,” she told him. “It’s been a heck of a day so far and I needed both food and someone to care.”

He shrugged. “You’re welcome. I’m here to help so tell me what you need done and I’ll do it.”

“There’s still plenty of cleaning left,” she said, wiping her hand on a napkin. “And I need to call the fuel company to see if they’ll fill the tanks. I don’t even know if there’s any gas in them or not. And I probably should call pest control. There was a nest of spiders in the back room and I saw a snake, but he escaped. Then I need to get deliveries started back, bread, milk, pop, and all that.”

“If the phone’s still hooked up, I’ll take care of the fuel and delivery people,” Neil said. “Then I’ll see what I can do about your bugs. I’m no professional bug man, but I think I can solve the problems. Since the store’s not been closed all that long, It shouldn’t be too bad.”

“What about the snake?”

“I doubt there’s any more but I’ll look around to be sure. Can you pay when the deliveries start arriving?”

Her cheeks flamed with heat she knew must show. “I’ve got a little money in the bank, but why?”

“You’re new. They’ll want to get paid. After a while, they might carry the bills and let you pay every month. That’s how Jim had it worked out, but you’re not him so they may want their money upfront. If you can’t afford it…”

Afraid he would suggest she close down the store and go back to the city, Caroline said, “I think I can, for now.”

His blue eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her face. “Girl, don’t get your drawers in a knot. I’m not picking at you or complaining about you having some money. I’m offering to help pay for now if you can’t.”

A rush of emotion swamped her. Gratitude, an odd sense of shame, and an overwhelming love combined into a floodtide. “I can’t take your money, Neil.”

“It’s there if you need it.”

“You work hard for it,” she protested. “Coal mining’s rough.”

He nodded. “I ain’t denying that, but the Army handed me a fair piece of change with my discharge to make up for my injuries. I’m saving it for the future, living on what I make in the mines. Besides, if I didn’t work a job of some kind, I wouldn’t feel like a man. I don’t need the money right now so I’d rather share it with you, if I shared it with anyone. I’m trying to do a good thing, Carrie.”

Humbled, she swallowed hard. “Then I’ll take it with thanks, Neil. I have a bit of savings, but since there were no children, I don’t get any money from Dylan and didn’t want any. I asked for only what I brought to the marriage in the divorce settlement, nothing more. But I promise, I’ll pay you back when I can.”

Neil finished his chicken and put the bones in the stack with the others. “Don’t worry about that. If the time comes I need it, I’ll ask.”

“All right,” Caroline said although she vowed silently she’d paid him back as soon as possible. “Neil?”

“What?”

So many words crowded into her mouth, but she failed to string them into sentences. Her emotions were a virtual storm. The threatened tears were rain showers, the powerful memories and old hurts equaled thunder, and the attraction toward him that she’d always had and could never deny would be the lighting. It wouldn’t take much to start a flood so she made the effort to check her volatile feelings. “Just—thanks.”

He grinned and the expression lifted years from his face. He resembled the Neil she’d known long ago although dark shadows remained smudged beneath his eyes and there were lines etched into his skin that hadn’t been there before. “You’re welcome. Let me go through Jim’s papers in the office and get the phone numbers I need. Then I’ll start making calls.”

She had almost forgotten about the office, the small room behind the cash register island. “I haven’t even been in there yet.”

“No problem,” Neil replied. “I helped Jim a little before he got too sick to come down to the store. I can sort through the chaos.”

“Then I’ll finish cleaning as soon as I clear away our trash.”

He nodded, already walking away from the counter where they had dined standing. When Neil entered the office, he vanished from view but she heard him rustling through the papers on her uncle’s desk. The old rotary phone whirred as he dialed a number. “Phone’s working so I’m gonna get started making the calls.”

A full-bodied sigh eased between Caroline’s lips. Neil’s help eased her burdens and he’d chosen the tasks she had dreaded the most. As she swept, then mopped the store floors, the sound of his voice provided background noise and filled a void. Although Caroline couldn’t make out the words, the familiar low rumble was comforting. By the time she’d cleaned the restrooms again, wiped down the front counter and organized the cash register area, the store sparkled and Neil had arranged for everything from fuel to bread to be delivered.

He emerged from the office and leaned on the counter. “Everything should be here by Friday so you can open fully stocked on Saturday. Maybe you’d want to have a grand re-opening.”

Caroline wasn’t as certain. “I might.”

Although she’d spent hours in the store, not one would-be customer had come into the store or pulled into the parking lot. People had known Jim’s Place had been closed during his final illness but she had thought they would come when they saw the lights were on and the ‘open’ sign hung in the window. She pondered it and Neil noticed.

“You’re thinking so hard you’ve got a frown. What’s the deal?”