Red Helmet (25 page)
After removing the mouthpiece, Square said, “An SCSR is a self-contained oxygen breathing apparatus. It'll last about an hour if you're resting. The harder you work, the more oxygen you use, so it goes faster. You'll be issued a SCSR and attach it to your belt. You'll go nowhere in the mine without it. Everybody with me on this?”
When all nodded, Square asked Song to come up and try on the apparatus.
Song took the canister and flipped the lever on top. It was not easy to open, but she managed and drew out the assembly inside. She slipped its strap over her head, twisted the mouthpiece, and put on the nose clips, then took a breath. “It doesn't work,” she complained.
Square chuckled. “That's because it's empty. I just want you to be able to operate it. Here, put your goggles on.”
Song put the goggles on and put the mouthpiece back into her mouth and breathed around its edges.
“You look like a fish,” Chevrolet said and the others laughed.
One by one, each student tried on the rebreathers and each got laughed at. Gilberto had the most difficulty. “It makes me feel sick,” he confessed.
“If you ever have to use one of these for real, you'll do it,” Square assured him. “Your instincts for survival will take over.”
Gilberto hastily unstrapped the rebreather and put it down on the table. “I am afraid of it,” he said. “I am starting to be afraid of everything.”
“That's okay,” Square said. “I want you to be a little afraid. I also want you to remember being afraid later on, because after a while, you won't be afraid at all, and you'll start thinking nothing can happen to you in the mine. That's when you'll get hurt.”
When no one commented, Square continued. “Tomorrow, you'll go into the mine. I'll go with you for orientation. Then Monday through Friday for the next month, you'll put in a regular shift with the day miners. During that time, you'll be moved around to the various sections, do a lot of jobs, always under the supervision of experienced miners and foremen. After your probation period is over, and if you've done well, you'll be able to paint your helmets black. What I'm saying is tomorrow's the first real day of your career as coal miners. Show up here at five thirty so I can get you ready to go in. Any questions?”
“Can I operate a continuous miner tomorrow?” Chevrolet asked. “It looks like fun.”
“No. But you'll see one.”
“Can I operate
anything
?”
Square smiled. “Sure. How does a number four shovel sound?”
Chevrolet narrowed his eyes. “Like work.”
S
ong stood with the other students on the porch of the Cardinal and watched the trucks and cars containing the miners of the hoot-owl shift passing by, bound for home. Several of the veterans tooted their horns at them and called out rude comments such as “You'll be sor-r-r-r-y!” and “Don't get them pretty helmets all dirty now!”
The time had come for Square Block's students to walk in their new hard-toe boots to the mine. Song had worn them everywhere, but they were still stiff. The other red caps complained theirs were too. Now it didn't matter. They were going inside the mine, stiff boots or not.
It was still dark, and their breath made little clouds of steam in the cold air. Day-shift miners were driving or walking past in the direction of the mine. Rhonda came out on the porch. “You red caps gonna just stand here all day or are you going to work?”
“We're trying to get up the nerve,” Justin confessed.
Rhonda crossed her arms and looked up the street to the tipple grounds. “My husband was killed in that hole.”
“Thanks for the encouragement,” Ford said.
Rhonda laughed. “Honey, I'm just reminding you what you're about to do. You go inside; you hold hands with death all day. That's just the way of it. But Henry, that would be Old Henry, used to tell me he'd rather mine coal than anything in the world. So you take the bad and you take the good. Some folks believe your days are numbered anyhow, so you might as well do something you love until you step up to heaven.”
Gilberto swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. “I don't know if I can do this,” he confessed. “Having an entire mountain on top of me. That is
muy asustadizo
, very scary.” He looked with stricken eyes at his classmates. “I might need some help today.”
“If you get scared, just reach out and hold my hand, Gilberto,” Song said. “And don't any of you boys say a thing about it!”
“I ain't sayin' nothing,” Chevrolet said. “Hell, I might want to hold your hand myself.”
“I wouldn't mind holding your hand now,” Justin said with a shy smile.
Song smiled encouragingly. “Anytime you need to.”
“Okay, that's our plan,” Ford said. “We hold Song's hand if we get scared.”
“Agreed,” Justin said.
“Remember, I've only got two hands,” Song reminded them.
Rhonda
checked her watch. “Don't make me get my broom and chase y'all off my porch. Get on with you! Time to go to work!”
G
O TO WORK
they did, feeling self-conscious as they walked onto the tipple grounds and caught the eye of the day shifters. “Nice clean clothes,” one of the miners said with a knowing grin. “That ain't gonna last long!”
“Welcome, red caps,” Square said in the classroom. “Take a seat. I'm gonna tell you what we're gonna do and then we're gonna go do it.” He quickly reviewed the steps every miner took before descending into the mine.
“Any questions? You boys look a mite trepidacious.”
“I keep thinking about an old well in my village,” Gilberto confessed. “Our parents used to warn us about it. They said there were demons in it.”
“Relax, son,” Square said. “There ain't no monsters in the coal mine. Nothing's going to happen to you. I'll be with you all day.”
“Square,” Ford said, “how low a roof are we gonna get into today?”
“Don't worry about it. I want you boys to start thinking positive.” When all he got was more wide-eyed stares, Square said, “All right, let's pray.” Everybody, including Song, bowed their heads. Today she figured she could use all the help she could get. “Heavenly Father, please look after these red caps and keep them out of trouble. Help them not to do anything
too
stupid, like bump their heads, or trip over things. Help them come out of the deep dark with a new understanding of what coal mining is all about. But most of all, keep them safe. That's all, Lord. You know what's in our hearts. All right, boys. Let's hear an amen.”
“Amen!” the red caps echoed.
A
FTER THE VETERAN
miners had descended down the shaft, Square and his students went through the procedures necessary to enter the mine. In the bathhouse, the boys drew down empty baskets to see how they worked. “Why don't they just have lockers?” Justin asked.
“Takes up less room, these baskets. Song, though, she's got a locker in her room.”
There were actually two lockers in the tiny bathroom with a separate door allotted for women, and one had a padlock on it. It had a sticker of the great seal of West Virginia on it. The locker was surely assigned to Governor Michelle Godfrey. There was but one shower stall, and Song hoped she and Michelle would never have to compete for it. It wouldn't be today, at least. Rhonda had told her Michelle was having to deal with a particularly rambunctious state legislature and would be in Charleston for a while. That was good news. If Song could figure out why the mine wasn't meeting its quota, she could be out of town before the voluptuous governor returned. She never wanted to see her triumphant face again. As far as Song was concerned, if the governor wanted Cable, then she could have him. They'd make a fine pair, anyway. She could be the brains in the family, and he could stupidly mine stupid coal to his stupid heart's content.
Square tapped on her helmet. “Pay attention, please,” he said.
Song blushed while the other red caps laughed. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
“What were you thinking about?” Square asked.
“Um. Methane. I wondered why it burns.”
“Because it does,” Square said, frowning. “God made it that way.”
Song plunged on. “But why?”
“That's a question for Preacher, I reckon.”
“I'll be sure to ask him,” Song said dryly.
“You sure are philosophical,” Chevrolet said.
“I don't mean to be,” Song answered, then glanced at the young man. He was practically swooning. His puppy love in her direction was all too evident.
The next step, Square said, was to go to the lamp house to receive helmet lamps and SCSRs. The lamps consisted of a light that clipped on the front of the helmet with an electrical cord leading to a thick, heavy battery with belt clips. On the battery was a brass tag with a number on it. Song's number was 415. The lamp house supervisor, called the lamp man, took another tag just like it and hung it from a peg beneath the number 415 on a dark green board.
“It just takes a glance at the board to see who's in the mine,” Square explained. “They see that tag hung next to 415, it means you're inside. When you turn in your battery, the lamp man will take your tag off the board. It's a simple system and it works.”
They next received an SCSR. Added to the weight of the lamp battery, Song now had nearly eight pounds tugging on her miner's belt. When she clipped the light on her red helmet, the extra ounces pressed down on her head like a circular vise. She suspected a headache would soon be on its way. She walked a few steps to get the feel of the new equipment hanging on her, then glanced at Cable's office, half hoping to see him watching her from the door. He wasn't there but Mole was. He was wearing a big grin and gave her a thumb's up. Song ignored him.
Square led them to the manlift, but it was in transition, the left side heading down with the right side coming up. When the right lift reached ground level, Song saw its freight was Cable and Bossman. Their faces were soot black. Cable's eyes cut toward her, then looked away. He said something to Bossman who smiled, and then they trudged toward the office, their heads down in deep conversation. Song again told herself to wipe Cable from her mind. She would deal with him later, after she'd figured out what was wrong with his mine.
“Okay, red caps,” Square said. “It's time to go below.”
The gate was open, the gate attendant smiling at the nervous novices. After being patted down by the attendant, the boys filed aboard with Song bringing up the rear. “Um, ma'am, I should pat you down for matches or lighters,” the gate attendant said.
“She doesn't have either one, Elbow,” Square put in. “Do you, Song?”
Song shook her head but said, “If the boys get patted down, then I should too. I don't want to be any different.”
Elbow raised his hands, then put them down. “Ma'am, I trust you. You go right ahead.”
“If Einstein's watching, he could fine the company,” Square said.
“I'll take that chance, Square,” Elbow said, his face crimson. “If my mrs. heard I patted Mrs. Jordan down, I guess the fine would be a little higher. If you get my meaning.”
Square laughed, as did several other men standing around pretending not to be listening.
It was time for Song to go beneath the mountains of Highcoal to learn how to be a coal miner. It seemed like a dream.
Get it done
, Song told herself, and stepped aboard the manlift. Chevrolet stuck out his hand and she shook it.
A bell rang, the platform jerked, Song gasped, and she and the others were on their way down, and down, and down. Song looked up at the sky, then at the gray rock of the shaft sliding past. There was a wet, earthy odor in the shaft, and the air was cool and damp. She glanced at the sky again and saw that it had turned into a square of light, framed by the shaft, which kept growing, getting longer and longer as the light got smaller and smaller. Finally, the sky had turned into a bright little star that winked out. “Turn your lights on, boys,” Square said.
Song reached up and turned the knob on the lamp attached to her helmet. The result was a spoke of light. She turned to look at her fellow red caps just as they all turned to look at one another. “Try not to put your light into your buddy's eyes,” Square admonished.
Song pointed her light at the shaft, which was still sliding past as the man-lift kept dropping. Her heart began to slow as she became accustomed to the strange sensation of descending into darkness. She was surprised when a hand sought hers. She didn't turn to see who it was. Gilberto. He was mumbling something
in Spanish, and she supposed it was a prayer. She gave his hand a squeeze, and he let go and took a deep breath.
“Hey, this is fun!” Ford said.
“Yeah, like Disney World or something,” Chevrolet said.
“All you boys doing okay?” Square asked.
“No problem,” Justin said.
“Gilberto and I are doing great,” Song said, and heard the Mexican take a deep breath. Very low, Song said to him, “Easy, now.”
The manlift began to slow. A few seconds later, they were lowered into a vast, bustling cavern filled with lights, men, and machinery. The platform beneath their boots shuddered, then stopped. An attendant opened the gate, and Square and his red caps stepped out onto a concrete landing.
Square did a quick orientation. “This area is called the bottom. That little brick building there is the motor barn. It's got a small machine shop in it so equipment doesn't have to be hauled out of the mine to get fixed unless it's something truly major. See the tracks? They head down the main line, which is also an airway. That means fresh air blows through it. Most of the miners on the day shift have already caught a mantrip down the main line to their sections.”
Song saw that there were still some black-helmeted miners standing in knots of twos or threes, talking or laughing at some joke. Others sat on the ground, heads leaned back, fast asleep. Then a mantrip arrived, its electric motor humming. The remaining miners crawled inside and it started up, followed a circular track, and then trundled off into the darkness. Square beckoned his students to another mantrip. “This is ours for the day. Mr. Jordan was mighty generous to let us have it too. This way we'll be able to cover a lot of territory without having to wait for somebody to give us a lift. Y'all go ahead. Hop in.”
