Sarah’s show rolled into its credits as she curled up under her favorite fleece throw blanket. The apartment felt particularly colder this evening. Her eyes explored the deep shadows in the high corners of the main room.
“Nights like these make me---” A bright bolt of lightning illuminated the large field across the street making her jump. “Wish I weren’t here.”
The lamps in the living room flickered in the wake of the guttural thunder. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and shuffled to the front window. Raindrops pelted the old dual-pane glass creating a relentless hiss. Another fork of light flashed on the hillside behind the Laund-O-Matic. The power blinked out in the small apartment.
“Great!” She stumbled through the living room in the general direction of the couch. “I so didn’t need this right---ow!”
She hobbled forward hitting the armrest of the sofa with her knee. “There’s the couch.”
She sat on the end of the cushion rubbing the bottom of her right foot. I’m not bleeding, so it can’t be that bad. Sarah got back on her feet letting her right hand glide along the armrest. The kitchen table and chairs blinked into existence in another burst of light.
“If I were my mother,” she inched toward the place she last saw the table fade into the dark, “where would I hide the flashlight?”
She waited for the lightning to flare once more and scurried to the hallway that led to her mom’s bedroom. The master suite sat at the end of the hall in complete darkness resembling the cave of some monster. If the shoe fits. Sarah wandered into the doorway to her mother’s room and flipped the light switch on the inside wall.
Click, clack. Click, clack.
“Crap.”
She squinted her eyes attempting to catch any familiar contours in what little light Mother Nature provided. Not even the gods could shed light in this hidden refuge.
“Figures.”
Sarah crept forward groping with her hands for the end of her mom’s bed. Please, don’t jump out and get me. Please, don’t jump out and get me. At last, the billowing comforter found her grasp.
“God, Sarah,” she whispered, creeping toward the nightstand, “get a grip.”
She bent down on her knees and crawled along the bedside until her right hand stumbled upon a long, cold barrel.
“Bingo.”
Sarah took the big flashlight in her hand and clicked it on. Its wide cone revealed what her common sense told her from the beginning. No one’s in the room with you, Sarah. She strode back out to the living room and double-checked the lock on the front door. A stiff gust howled around the far corner of the building. She made her way over to the window and peered out into the dark. The headlights of an occasional passing vehicle showed that the deluge refused to quit.
“I guess it’s gonna be a while.” She lumbered back to the couch and picked up the journal. Her hand flipped through its faded pages to the place where she had last stopped.
“My travels out of Ohio were full of wonderful scenery, but lonesome nonetheless. I had jumped on a train bound for Chicago and found a dry place amid some wooden crates. Several rolling farms passed by outside the slats of my train car on the way. There's beautiful country out this way, but it still doesn't compare to my mountains back home.”
Noah wandered down the busy streets of Chicago. Everywhere he looked, long lines of people snaked out of unemployment buildings and food banks. He huddled close along the gutters of the street doing his best not to make direct eye contact.
“I’m hungry, mommy,” a little girl said just ahead of him. She stood next to a woman in her Sunday best. The little girl’s elegant white dress had been reduced to a torn tooth-stained version of its former glory.
“I know, dear,” the mother said. “Just a little while longer and we’ll get something.” The girl’s mother glanced around in a way that Noah had seen others of the nuveau poor use. She hoped that no one she knew was watching.
Noah took the next right and followed the plumes of factory smoke to their sources. Things must be gettin’ pretty desperate all over the place.
Several folks he passed on the streets spun rumors of a big world’s fair being planned for their city in the coming year. They wove fantasies of huge job booms and drawing in crowds from all over to their spectacle. If that’s the case, somebody had better tell the rest of the city about it.
The massive smoke stacks loomed overhead as Noah wound around more downtrodden souls bound for the long lines behind him. The foul smell of the factory’s fumes stole the wind from his lungs.
“How can anyone stand the smell of this?” He buried his nose in the crook of his elbow.
The front of the building bustled with too much activity for his comfort. I’ll just slip on around to the back side and see if I can rustle up some food. A line of grimy men stood out back along the brick wall. Some nursed a cigarette in the corner of their mouths, while others stretched discussing the latest news of their microcosm. Noah approached the group cautiously. One unintended meaning could lead to a beating or worse.
“I tell ya,” a short dumpy worker said, “old man Toomey said we’d be gettin’ more hours these next few months.”
“Oh, yeah?” another lean gent in a newsboy cap prodded. “How you figure, Mickey?”
“I heard Ellie talkin’ to her man yesterday.” Mickey cleared his throat and spat out into the gravel lot. “Toomey told her that this big fair was gonna need a lot of construction. From the sounds of her, the old man landed a big contract with ‘em. That’s how, Ralph.”
Ralph shrugged his boney shoulders. “Eh. I’ll believe it when I see it at the end of the week.”
Noah shuffled up to the one called Mickey and tapped him on the arm. “Excuse me, sir.” His eyes never left the dirt at the worker’s boots. “I was wonderin’ if you might be able to spare some food.”
Mickey rubbed his bulbous nose and scoffed. “You want food?” He shook Noah’s finger free with a violent jerk. “Try the local church, ya rail bum.”
Noah side-stepped into the center of the group. “I mean no disrespect.” He fidgeted with the shoulder straps on his overalls. “I haven’t eaten in days, sir. Please.”
“Ah.” Ralph wagged a hand at him. “Now, you went and ruined a perfectly good break, kid.” He turned and joined the group of men shuffling back into the belly of the ironworks.
“If you want to earn a meal, lad” a burly bald man said in a thick Irish accent, “you can come work with me on the rivet press.” The thick muscles in the man’s forearms rippled under his skin as he rubbed the small patch of brown hair around his mouth. “You’ll do, all right.” He offered Noah a blackened palm. “The name’s Silas.”
“I’m Noah.” He set his right hand in the crushing grip of the gentle giant. “I’d be grateful for anything you could offer.”
“Tell ya what,” Silas rested his hands on his hips, “if you can survive the rest of the shift with me, I’ll take you home for a warm meal. Deal?”
Silas’s brown gaze blazed a trail into his inner spirit.
“Sure, deal.” Noah filed in under the big man’s wing.
“I have a soft spot for kids like you, Noah.” Silas led them into the relentless heat of the factory. “You remind me of meself when I first came to America. A spirit full of blind luck and a belly as hollow as the Kaiser’s head.”
Silas guided him through the hustling workforce on the main floor. Blasts from one of the three main furnaces blew Noah’s disheveled hair back as he strode past the shouting men.
“Over here.” Silas waved him toward a large greasy piece of machinery.
Noah took the extra smock from Silas and filed in beside him.
“Just stay at my side and do what I say,” he said over the hiss of the melting ore. “If anyone asks, you’re the new guy. Got it?”
Noah bobbed his head and watched the big guy work. Silas leaned to one side and watched the raw metal get fed into his fabrication press. His right hand pulled a large lever down which sent the imposing rivet stamper into the material. With a shove of his hand, the newly formed rivets fell into a waiting bin under the press. One slab after another slid into place under Silas’ steady grip. Noah got lost in the industrial dance that ensued between man and machine.
“Boy. Boy!”
A meaty hand on Noah’s shoulder shook him from the daydream. “I’m sorry. What is it?”
Silas pointed to the mound of fresh rivets in the bin. “Slide those over there,” he motioned to a line of full bins on the far wall, “and bring back a fresh one.”
Noah took the front lip of the bin in his hands and tugged. The side moved, but the bin refused to budge.
“It’s going to take more effort than that,” Silas bellowed between laughs.
Noah dug his feet in and heaved with all of his might. The pile of rivets yielded rattling a few inches across the cold floor.
“Pick any of the strays up that wander out o’ the bin, mind ya!”
Noah tossed a hand into the air and then quickly got back to his task at hand. This thing must weigh a ton. He shimmied around to the far side of the bin and tried pushing rather than pulling. The bin took off across the smooth floor as he guided it to the end of the current row. Much better! He straightened out his back and drew in a chest full of the acrid air.
“No rest for the wicked, boy!” Silas beckoning him back.
Noah took an empty bin from the other end of the wall and slid it into place under the press.
“Now, you.” Silas grabbed Noah’s left arm in his paw and drug him before the mechanical behemoth.
He shook his dusty auburn mop. “I don’t know that I should.”
“Nonsense,” Silas said. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
Silas jabbed an index finger at the incoming slab. “Wait for her to slide into place.”
The next sheet of metal rolled under their machine and fell into place with a thunk.
“Now, boy.”
Noah tugged on the lever, but it wouldn’t move. He jumped up and hung onto the pivoting arm forcing the stamper down into the slab. Dozens of rivets clattered into the hollow container as Noah pushed the lever back into its resting position.
“Well done, Noah!” The big Irishman slapped him so hard on his back that it knocked what little breath he had left out of his lungs. “Five more bins to fill and we’ll have this shift whipped.”
Noah pushed the final bin of rivets into the wall completing his collection of metallic mounds. He checked his tally, singling out each bin with his finger.
“That’s it, Noah,” Silas said in a victorious tone. “The end of another fruitful shift.”
He strode back toward Silas, but stopped when the big man’s eyes darted from one end of the space to the other.
“Wait for me out back, and I’ll take you home for that meal,” Silas said. “You’ve earned your keep today, lad.”
A bent elderly gent hobbled up next to Silas carrying a small stack of papers. He gave Noah a cursory nod and went back to his duties.
“Ready for your shift tallies, Silas?” The old man paid Noah no mind as he walked back out to the rear lot.
Noah leaned up against the cold brick wall of the ironworks and recited all of the presidents of the U.S. that he could recall from his school studies. He had made it to Buchanan by the time Silas emerged from the alleyway.
“Ready?”
He nodded.
“Right.” Silas meandered down the street. “It’s about five blocks this way.”
Noah followed his newfound friend through the intimidating cityscape. A group of scantily clad women sauntered up to them from the nearest lamppost.
“Whadaya say, honey?” a redhead said tapping Noah on the shoulder. She reeked of cheap perfume and fish. “Wanna go back upstairs and become a man?”
The gaggle of girls behind her smirked and cackled at her antics.
“Back to yer corner, whore,” Silas said. He nabbed Noah’s other shoulder strap and tugged him to the far sidewalk. “Might as well be dippin’ your wick in the Plague with that lot. It’ll happen in good time, Noah. All in good time.”
They passed several bakeries and meat shops en route to their destination. Images of steaming platters of roasted shoulder with a side of mashed potatoes instigated Noah’s gut.
“Here we are.” Silas hung a right at the next lamppost. “Homeward bound.”
He walked with Silas down the street until it opened up into a small village of crate box lean-to’s and ragged shacks. Dozens of parents and their children walked around sharing news, gossip, and a game of tag. Silas returned the greetings of several adults whose stares studied Noah from head to toe.
“Right this way, Noah.” Silas side-stepped a row of racing children. “Whoa, there!”
“Sorry, Silas.” A lady gave chase to the boys. “You three stay away from those burning barrels!”
“You’ve got a job and you live out here?” Noah couldn’t quite comprehend how it could be.
Silas lowered his head in shame. “We lost our home several months ago after the furniture plant I worked in closed up shop.”
“I didn’t mean---”
“But,” Silas said, ignoring him, “I found a home at the Toomey Ironworks a few weeks ago. With any luck, we’ll be back on our feet soon.”
A tall brunette strode out of a small shack in front of them. Her emerald eyes found the innocence in Noah’s soul in an instant. “Welcome home, dear.” She pecked Silas on the cheek. “How was your shift?” She peered over the big lug’s shoulder at Noah.
“Fine, love.” Silas stepped out of the way and set a hand on Noah’s back. “This is Noah. Noah, my wife, Clare.”
“Pleased to meet you, Noah.” Clare brushed her curls behind an ear. “Will you be joinin’ us for supper, then?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She went back into their home and returned with a groggy toddler clinging to her neck. “Right, then. Whenever you boys are ready.”
Silas shooed his clan forward. “Okay. Back up the alley, and take a left, Noah.”
Noah led the pack up around the corner and strode down the street. The line out front of the soup kitchen signaled their destination.
“Just fall in at the back o’ the line, lad,” Silas said from behind his shoulder. “We’ll be dinin’ in no time at all.”
Noah took his place in line behind another young family. Its patriarch greeted him warmly with a tip of his hat.
“Noah,” Clare said, “are you from around these parts originally?”
“No.” He shuffled closer to the entrance. “I’m from West Virginia and came here by way of Ohio.”
She nodded in acquiescence. “We passed through your state on the way here.” Clare heaved her young daughter up on her shoulder. “Silas worked for a while back in Pennsylvania.”
A stocky white-haired man emerged from the soup kitchen and held the door open. “Come on in, folks!” His bushy brows hid his eyes. “Plenty of bean soup and cornbread to go ‘round.”
Noah walked into the enticing aroma of a warm meal. His gizzard grumbled in defiance. It’s been a while, I know. He followed the people in front of him around the corner and into the open cafeteria. The low drone of hundreds of conversations fighting for space echoed off the walls. After receiving a small bowl of bean soup and a portion of cornbread, Noah took a seat in an empty corner.
“It’s not fine dining,” Silas sat down beside him, “but it’ll put a fire in your gut.”
Noah washed a mouthful of cornbread down with a swig of water. “This is the best meal I’ve had in weeks.”
The Irishman nodded and dipped his bread into the bowl of soup at his belly. “Listen, Noah. How would you like to earn a little extra money tonight?”
Noah peered up at the man over the edge of his bowl. “I might be interested.”
Silas set an elbow on the table and leaned in closer. “How would an extra five dollars in your boots sound?”
“For doin’ what?”
Silas held his fists up in front of his face and waggled them. “Even if you lose,” he whispered, “you still walk away with five in your pocket. What do you say?”
Noah’s eyes found the bottom of his bowl. I can hold my own in a fight, and money is money. “When and where?”
Silas slapped his palms together and rubbed them. “Right after supper. I’ll take you along with me.”
Reality’s bulb blinked behind Noah’s wide blue stare. What if the other guy’s just as big as Silas? Oh, God. I’m gonna die!