Chapter Eight
Hitching a ride to the mines is much easier with a baby in your arms, and a large bag on your back. Or maybe it is that Olive is in clean clothes and showered.
A young couple on their way for a drive in the countryside drop Olive off at the entrance. She thanks them and wishes them luck in their endeavor, the lady is five months pregnant.
"Thank goodness she didn't ask us too many questions, Sophia," Olive murmurs as she waves goodbye. She turns toward the mines. "I get queasy every time I think about what transpires during…during…" Olive trails off at the lack of noise and bustle taking place in the mining yard. It is nothing like the other day when she came to see Charlie.
There is a large group gathered in the yard and they are grungy and soot-covered, like they've been at work already this morning. It is lunchtime but no one holds a pail. In fact, most hold hats in their hands, and their eyes stay glued to the ground as though they are in mourning.
Olive's heart skips a beat. She pushes her way through the crowd, looking at faces as she goes.
"Charlie?" she asks tentatively to the backs in front of her. Though they turn their heads at her voice, none are Charlie.
"Charlie!" she calls louder this time, still pushing her way to the front. A path forms for her. It seems a hundred scruffy faces are looking at her, but she can't find Charlie's bright blue eyes in the sea of black. Tears blur her vision, and she is surrounded by orphans, tattered and ragged and always standing in between her and Charlie.
In her arms, Sophia begins to cry.
"Girl, you okay?" A heavy hand lands on her shoulder. Olive turns to look directly at the same man she ran into the other day.
Recognition slowly dawns on his face and all he can say is, "Oh no."
Olive shakes her head refusing to process what it all means. She can't hold it together any longer. Trumpets and saxophones and Minnie the Moocher ring in Olive’s head. "Hi De Hi De Hi De Hi," she starts.
"Oh De Oh De Oh De Oh," she sings louder. Stumbling back and breaking free of the crowd, Olive finds herself in a clearing. Only Sophia cries now. The men look anxiously from Olive to Sophia, then to something behind them.
Slowly, Olive turns, grasping the locket around her neck. Seven forms lie on the ground, still and lifeless, covered in white sheets. "Ch-ch…" she can't even say his name anymore. Squeaky sobs have taken over her vocal chords. She walks to the smallest lump, no longer delusional about Charlie's strength or size. For once, she is having no delusions at all.
The man from the other day, who must have followed her to the front, approaches. Silently, he moves to the other side of the form, and folds down a corner of the white sheet. Charlie's face, as pale as the linen that covers him, stares back.
Olive collapses on the ground, one arm holding her up, the other still clutching the baby. Sobs wrack both their bodies. It is the only sound in the mining yard.
"There was an accident with one of the damaged tunnels. A group was working to shore it up until early this morning, but the blasting last night must've been too much for it."
Sophia's cries are now blocking out the miner's explanation. Olive focuses on the tiny, upset baby in her arms. She begins to sing her song again, but this time it is softer and she makes an effort at harmony. This time, the song is for another.
Hey Sophie, here's the story 'bout Minnie the Moocher
She was a lowdown hoochie coocher
She was the roughest toughest frail
But Minnie had a heart as big as a whale
Sophia slowly begins to calm, focusing her eyes on Olive’s face. Pink, pudgy fingers grasp out, landing on the locket dangling from Olive's neck. The chain is shorter with the repair Olive made after it was ripped off of Dolly.
Charlie is no longer there to take care of anything for Olive. It is up to her now at a time when Olive has taken on more responsibility than she ever thought she'd have.
Pairs of boots begin to surround her, and someone replaces the sheet over Charlie's face. They didn't even bother to close his eyes. Olive squeezes Sophia to her chest, and places a hand on the sheet.
"Ain't no one to hold you back now, Charlie," she whispers. "Be at peace."
"Miss, miss." Someone is patting her on the shoulder. "I'm sorry but your friend here was new and we didn't get all the paperwork completed. Can you tell us who he is?"
She tries wiping her face, then digs in her fallen bag for a bottle. It is time for Sophia's feeding.
"Yes, yes…" Olive's voice cracks. She clears it, holding Sophia in the crook of her arm to give her the bottle. She glances at the white sheet once again. "He's...my Charlie." The pain in her chest overtakes her ability to speak.
"Come on, sir—it's his wife and baby. Ain't that obvious? I saw them here the other day. He should've never been given that shift, ma'am—new as he was."
"Okay now, Smith, let's everyone calm down." The man asking questions holds up his hands. Olive finally looks at him. He is in a suit, and not covered in coal dust like everyone else.
Smith, the miner taking her side, still kneeling on the ground beside her leans in.
"What you need to do is get yourself a lawyer. Shouldn't have been working anyway, if they didn't have all the paperwork."
"That'll be enough, Smith—it ain't appropriate to go talking about lawyers with her husband lying cold right here."
Smith rises, helping Olive up beside him. "Just want to make sure the little lady here gets what she deserves, with the widow's pension. Heard rumors all those families involved in the last accident haven't seen a lick of cash yet. That be grounds for a strike, if you ask me."
The man in the suit stiffens, his lips pressing tight together. "Ain’t exactly matters for a lumber worker to discuss anyway. Miss—if you'll accompany me, please. I'll just need to get a bit more information from you," he raises his voice, "and we can set up the widow's pension. I'm so sorry about your husband, but we will do all we can to take care of you and your child."
Throughout the exchange, Olive hasn't said a word. Sophia has finished the bottle, and Olive pats her on the back. "I don't have any documents with me.”
"Not that you were expecting to arrive at your husband's job to his…" the man in the suit mumbles. "Er…my apologies. That is no matter ma'am. No matter at all. Let us take care of you; can't have these miners thinking their families would be left with nothing."
Olive enters a shack of an office, closing the door behind her.