The Iron Dragon Never Sleeps (7 page)

You look pretty frightened yourself
, thought Winnie. Then she remembered what the foreman had said. Eight or nine men were trapped in the tunnel. Was one of them Lee’s brother?

“My father is in there,” she said quietly.

“And Tom,” said Lee.

What if they never get out?
thought Winnie.
What if they’re already
—

“Listen up, men!” Mr. Strobridge called out.
“Digging will take hours or even days. We have neither. We may not even have minutes. Who knows how much air they have?” He sighed. “We’ll have to risk blasting.”

“That might just seal them in,” said a foreman.

Mr. Strobridge tugged on his beard. “It might. Or it might blow them to kingdom come. But what other choice is there?”

No one answered him.

“Bring on the nitroglycerin,” he ordered.

Workers carefully carried the explosive from the back of a nearby wagon.

Flap Jack whistled softly. “That’s tricky stuff,” he whispered. “A lot more powerful than gunpowder.”

The miners carefully put down the explosive. Winnie watched them closely. They seemed very calm as they dug holes for their charges. The nitroglycerin itself was an oily yellow liquid. It did not look like much.

“Hold on, Papa,” she whispered. “Hold on.”

When the miners finished, they lit the fuses. Everyone ducked for cover.

The explosion rocked the canyon. Winnie had covered her ears, but they still ached from the sound.

Marjorie Tucker peered through the dust. “How long?” she whispered.

The crews were scrambling up the rubble.

“They cleared away a good bit with that first blast,” said Flap Jack. “Now they’ll—”

Suddenly another explosion rocked the landscape. Three men were tossed into the air. They landed hard and didn’t move.

“Confound it!” Mr. Strobridge shouted. “I’ll have Howden’s hide!”

“Who’s Howden?” Winnie asked.

Flap Jack brushed the dust from his coat. “He makes the nitroglycerin for the railroad. But blaming him for the explosion is like blaming the candy maker for giving you a toothache.”

“What went wrong?” asked Marjorie.

“One charge did not explode on time,” said Lee. “We use nitroglycerin to bite the mountain. Sometimes it bites us back.”

“The fuse may have been set wrong,” said Flap Jack. “Until somebody jarred it.”

Other workers stepped forward cautiously with stretchers for the injured men.

“I don’t see anything,” said Marjorie.

Flap Jack squinted through the dust. “That first blast just got things started,” he said. “Now they’ll dig for a while before blasting again.”

Lee was wringing his hands. He wanted to help, but the foremen had already shooed him away twice.

Winnie looked down. Her own hands were shaking.

“I hate all this waiting,” she said.

“Waiting is hard,” said Lee. “It is a thing my father talked much about. The worst waiting for him came on his trip to America. The ship was so full the men could barely lie down. There was fighting over food and space. There was much sickness everywhere.

“But worst of all, he said, was the waiting. Days and days and more days to come. Men died all around him. The smell was terrible. The food was so bad he closed his eyes while he ate. Still, there was more waiting.

“He wondered if he had made a good choice. He had been poor in China, but China was home. Leaving had been hard. This voyage was harder.

“Finally he reached San Francisco. So much remained unknown, but at least the waiting was over. He would never forget it, he said.”

It took an hour of digging before they were ready to blast again.

It’s an upside-down day for sure, Papa
, thought Winnie.
But it’s not over yet.

As the fuses were lit again, Winnie squeezed her eyes shut and looked away.

The next explosion peppered everyone with pebbles and dirt. When the dust cleared, there was a
small opening into the tunnel. Two crews rushed forward and enlarged the hole.

“We’ve found them,” they called out. Everyone hushed, waiting for news from inside the tunnel.

“And they’re all alive!”

“Hooray!” shouted Winnie. She felt happy and excited and relieved all at once. She gave her mother a big hug. Then she hugged Flap Jack. And then she hugged Lee.

He even hugged her back.

Then they realized they were hugging—and quickly jumped apart.

The crews stepped aside as the miners emerged from the tunnel hole. One was limping. Another was favoring an arm. Several were carried out on stretchers.

“Tom! Tom!”

Lee rushed to the side of a man on a stretcher. He was so covered in dirt that Winnie couldn’t get a good look at him.

“Eli!”

“Papa!”

Her father was being helped out of the tunnel. “Careful there,” he said as they rushed forward. “I think I busted something.”

The next few minutes were filled with hugs and
kisses. Before they were done, it was hard to tell who was wearing the most dirt.

Winnie had tried to say something, but the words kept getting stuck in her throat. But now she looked at her father, covered in smudges and grit—and she laughed.

“I think you’re going to need a bath,” she said.

Eli Tucker smiled—and then clutched his side. “I think we all will,” he said, wincing.

For once Winnie didn’t mind the idea of a bath at all.

W
HAT
W
INNIE ALWAYS REMEMBERED
afterward was the doctor’s office. It had a few chairs, a table, and a sink in the corner. There was an imposing cabinet with a glass front. It had bottles inside. Winnie couldn’t read the labels.

The room had a funny smell. It made Winnie glad she hardly ever got sick.

Still, she was happy to go there with her father. She had to wait while the doctor changed his bandages, but she didn’t mind. He was going to be all right soon enough.

One time Winnie asked the doctor about Lee’s brother, Tom.

“Tom?” the doctor had replied. “Tom who?”

“Tom Cheng.”

“Oh, one of the Celestials.” The doctor shrugged. “Did he die?”

“Well, no.” Winnie had once seen the bodies of two Chinese workers who had died. They had been laid out and covered with a rice mat.

“Then he’s probably all right.”

“Well, how was he when you saw him?”

“Me? I didn’t examine him.”

“But he was in the tunnel with my father. He was carried out on a stretcher.”

“Yes, yes.” The doctor was unconcerned. “I’m sure he was. But I don’t treat Celestials.”

Winnie frowned. “Why not? They work for the railroad, too.”

The doctor shrugged. “It’s just company policy. The Celestials have their own ways and medicines. I’m sure he’s doing fine.”

Winnie wasn’t satisfied. She later asked her father about it. What was the railroad doing for the injured Chinese workers?

“I don’t know, Winnie. You heard the doctor. They have their own ways. Probably something to do with vegetables.”

Winnie might have smiled at that when the summer began. She wasn’t smiling now.

“But they were hurt as much as you. Doesn’t the railroad care?”

“The railroad”—Eli sighed—“has a lot of things
on its mind.” He looked at her a little sadly. “I’m tired, Winnie. We’ll talk about it another time.”

Her father was tired a lot that first week. But soon he was up and around again.

“The way Mrs. Swanson is feeding me,” he said ten days after the accident, “my ribs are going to have to grow back bigger just to fit my stomach.” He patted his side. The strips of cloth were wrapped around his chest and stomach. “These bandages sure feel tight.”

Marjorie allowed herself a smile. “It’s like a corset,” she commented.

“I suppose so. I don’t know how women breathe in those things,” he said.

“They don’t,” she replied. She looked into her sewing basket. “Winnie, I’m out of red thread. Run down to the store and buy another spool. I want to finish your dress before we leave.”

The general store had changed little over the summer. Except for the appearance of a few winter goods, this could have been the day she arrived.

The candy was still in the same place, too.

“Try the peppermints,” said a voice behind her. “It tastes like winter in your mouth.”

It was Lee who had spoken.

“How are you?” said Winnie. She knew his face well from drawing the portrait. He looked a little thinner.

“I am well.”

“And how is your brother?”

“He is better. Already back to work.”

“But he must need time to—”

“No work, no pay,” Lee explained. “Railroad always in a hurry. Summer is ending.”

“I know,” said Winnie. “I’m going home in a few days.”

Lee nodded. “You return to the house with the garden.”

“Yes. And school …” She made a face.

“I have always wondered about school,” said Lee. “I have never been.”

“You’re lucky.”

“Perhaps. I do not always feel lucky.”

“My father says the railroad will be done in another year or two. What will you do then?”

“There will be railroads to build for many years. I cannot think more than that.”

“Hey!” cried the storekeeper. He stepped in front of Winnie and stared down at Lee. “I’ve warned you before. Stop bothering my customers.”

“I meant no—” Lee began.

“Excuse me,” said Winnie, tugging on the storekeeper’s sleeve. “He wasn’t bothering me.” She took a deep breath. “And as near as I can tell, he wasn’t bothering you or anyone else either.”

“Now, see here, young lady—”

“Don’t worry,” she said, deciding the spool would have to wait. “There won’t be any trouble. My friend Lee and I were just leaving.”

The storekeeper stood there gaping while Winnie and Lee walked out the door together.

T
HE TRAIN WHISTLE BLEW ONCE.

Eli Tucker was helping Marjorie and Winnie up onto the train. Their luggage was already on board.

“Time to go,” said Eli. He gave Winnie a kiss. “You take care of your mother, all right?”

Winnie nodded. It was hard to believe she was going home. Rose and Julia were waiting. It would be good to see them. Still, her railroad summer had passed all too quickly.