Beneath the Veil of Smoke and Ash Page 6

“Marie!” a voice shouted from a few doors down.

  “That’s Mama. I have to go home and help with dinner. You never told me what you’re doing this summer, Sofie.”

  “I’ll be fishing with Pole. He makes good money selling fish to Mrs. Janosik and the men at the boarding house.”

  “You two spend an awful lot of time together.” Marie smirked.

  Sofie tilted her head. “Why are you making that face?”

  “You like him, don’t you? And I can see why.” Marie giggled. “That wavy hair … those green eyes.”

  “What? Pole’s my best friend. He’s practically my brother.”

  Marie raised an eyebrow.

  Suddenly, Lukas came sprinting across the court at full speed with an older boy trailing him. “Help!” he shouted. “Help!”

  Sofie assumed he had gotten himself into some sort of trouble again. A fight, perhaps. She watched her brother run toward her, eyes wide, arms flailing. He must have been terrified because he didn’t see the puddle of soapy water in front of her and Marie. He ran right through it, slipping and falling face first into a heap of mud at Marie’s feet. Realizing his fortuitous position, Lukas lifted the hem of her skirt.

  Marie stomped on his head as she turned to face Sofie. “Looks like your little brother is curious about the opposite sex. You must be a late bloomer.”

  Eleven

  JANOS

  RIVERTON, JUNE 8, 1910

  “Kovac! Janos Kovac!” shouted a voice.

  Exhausted and eager to get home, Janos reluctantly turned around to see who had called his name. A fellow mill worker ran toward him, breathless, with sweat dripping from his ruddy cheeks. Janos recognized the man, but did not know his name. He was a laborer and new to town. Struggling to be patient, Janos waited for him to catch up in the stifling summer heat. Though it was early evening, the air was unusually muggy, as an unexpected heat wave had set in. The poor man looked spent.

  Taking a deep breath, he offered his hand. “I’m Josef Balog. I’m new at the mill. Can I buy you a drink?” he asked in Slovak.

  “Thank you, but I’m in a hurry to get home,” Janos replied politely.

  “I hear you’re a well-respected member of the community. A wise man. You were there when Tomas Tomicek died a couple weeks back, weren’t you?”

  Janos nodded.

  “I have something to tell you.”

  Janos raised an eyebrow. He didn’t frequent the saloons very often. Spending his hard-earned money on whiskey was a waste, but his curiosity had been piqued. “I guess I have time for a drink. Dalibor’s is around the corner.”

  Janos walked in silence with Josef Balog as they approached the most popular Slavic saloon in town. At the end of each day turn at the mill, a line of dirty, foul-mouthed men of Slovak, Polish, Hungarian, and Lithuanian descent formed out the door. It was a popular establishment mainly because it was the first pub the men passed on their way home from work. It also had an entertaining proprietor named Dalibor, who told disgusting jokes.

  Most of the mill workers bought only one whiskey or two, desperate to wash the mineral dust out of their throats after a long, hot day’s work. However, a few men, known as Dalibor’s gang, sometimes spent as much as twenty dollars in a single night. They were a rough group, and Janos tried to avoid them whenever possible.

  Janos had only been to Dalibor’s a few times since he had settled in Riverton over a decade ago, the last time being about five years earlier. Upon entering, he noticed that the saloon’s atmosphere had not improved. The place actually looked more run-down. The tables were covered with cigarette burns and carved with profanity in a half-dozen languages. The chairs looked like they were about to collapse under the weight of the men sitting in them. Janos coughed and rubbed at his eyes as he and Josef made a path through the smoky room toward the bar.

  “Two Irish whiskies,” Josef demanded as he neared the bartender.

  A fat, disheveled-looking man, whom Janos didn’t recognize, filled two glasses to the brim. The armpits of his shirt were soaked, and he smelled sour with sweat. “I guess Dalibor hired some help,” Janos said casually as the man handed him his whiskey. “Business must be good if he can afford a break.”

  “I’m Dalibor,” the heavy man shouted bitterly, pointing to his chest. “And I haven’t had a goddamned day off in years!”

  Janos was shocked. The person he’d known as Dalibor looked nothing like the slovenly creature standing in front of him. Janos felt sorry for him. Apparently, the saloon’s proprietor liked his whiskey as much as his gang did. He looked in worse shape than the ramshackle furniture around the bar.

  “Thank you, sir,” Janos said, leaving a tip on the bar even though Josef had already paid. He sensed he needed to smooth things over with the easily angered man.

  Once they were seated at a table in the back corner of the saloon, Janos said, “I appreciate the drink, Mr. Balog. What you have to say must be important.”

  “I think it is. But I won’t take too much of your time. I can tell you’re not used to this sort of place.” Josef winked. “I’ve only been at the Riverton mill a few months. I worked in Homestead for a few years until I heard things were better up-river in the smaller towns.” Josef paused to take a gulp of his amber-colored whiskey. “This tastes much better than the moonshine I’m used to drinking at the boarding house. A lot more expensive, though.”

  “Which boarding house do you live in?”

  “The Janosik’s. It’s smaller than the one in Homestead, but it’s cheap. You get to know your neighbors. Sometimes that’s good and sometimes … well, you know how that goes,” Josef said with a chuckle. “I’ve seen my fair share of fights. Been in a few.”

  Sensing that Josef liked to blather, Janos tried to hurry him along. “What kind of information do you have for me?”

  The man cleared his throat. “I’m a laborer at the mill. I spend my days loading coal, so I don’t have much need to speak English, even though I can. Everyone assumes I’m just another dumb Hunky.” Josef took a sip of his whiskey and laughed. “That’s where that cocky son of a bitch Henry Archer made his mistake.”

  “What do you mean?” Janos leaned forward.

  “Archer pulled that mechanic Dickie Jones aside last week to talk to him about the accident at your furnace. He saw me working ten feet away, but paid me no mind. Must’ve assumed I couldn’t understand a word he was saying.”

  “And?” Janos was on the edge of his seat.

  “He told Dickie that if anyone asks him about the crane, he’d better tell them he inspected it and found nothing wrong. Dickie said he hadn’t gone near that crane in months. None of the other mechanics had either. That’s when Archer shoved him. Hard. He told Dickie if he wanted to keep his job, he’d better remember working on that crane.”

  “The incompetent jackass!”

  “Archer also said something about his paperwork being in order—all they had to do was stick to the story. He’s being promoted at the end of the month and doesn’t want anything screwing it up.”

  “A promotion?”

  “Yeah. He’s leaving the mill and going to work in New York City. No one knows about it yet. Just the managers and Dickie. And now you and me.” Josef sneered.

  Janos shuddered. Karina would soon be without a job and have little chance of finding another one as lucrative. His wife would have no choice but to return to work at one of the town’s boarding houses.

  He thought about the evening almost two weeks earlier when Karina had come home with a cake after hearing about the accident at his furnace. She’d been surprisingly affectionate and had shown a genuine interest in her family. She even seemed to enjoy making love to him. Janos went to bed that night elated and feeling more hopeful about his marriage than he had in years.

  However, within a few days, it became clear that Karina’s affections were fleeting. She resumed her routine of working late and heading to bed early. She ignored her children and rejected Janos’s advances. He wo
ndered what his wife would be like without her daily escape to the comfort of Archer’s home. He knew the answer. He would never forget the sad state she was in before she had found work in an upper-class neighborhood.

  Janos considered what Archer’s promotion meant for him. Since the accident at his furnace, all he could think about was quitting the mill. He had contemplated it for years, but was always afraid no other job would provide him with enough money to support his family. But witnessing Tomas Tomicek’s death had traumatized him. Janos was now constantly tortured by thoughts of being killed in an accident and leaving Sofie and Lukas behind. And with a mother like Karina, he knew his children needed him.

  In the past few days, he had decided that, with his savings, the family could get by for a while with only Karina’s income. Janos would get out of the mill and find safer work. But now? Everything was about to change.

  “Janos? What do you think?”

  Shaking the unpleasant thoughts from his head, he met Josef’s gaze. “I’m not surprised Archer isn’t conducting inspections. Men like him don’t care about people like us.” Janos took a swig of his whiskey and slammed the glass down on the table. “There’s not much we can do.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “There’s no union to speak for us. Even if there were, no one could prove that an inspection would’ve prevented that accident. Steel mills are dangerous places. Accidents happen every day.” Janos finished his whiskey. “Did you tell anyone else what you know?”

  Josef shook his head. “I wanted to get some advice first. I thought about approaching my foreman, but I’m not sure he’d believe me. I’m afraid I’ll be known as a grouser, or worse yet, I’ll lose my job.”

  “You can’t tell anyone. Nothing would come of it even if you could prove you were telling the truth. Management is more worried about tonnage and profits than workers’ safety.” Janos sighed. “Archer is leaving soon anyway.”

  “I was leaning towards keeping my mouth shut,” Josef said, sounding resigned.

  “It’s best to keep quiet. It’s a shame what happened to Tomas, but damn it, there’s nothing we can do.” Janos pounded the table with his fist. “We’ve got mouths to feed.”

  “I don’t think I should tell Pavol Tomicek what I know. If he knew Archer had anything to do with that accident, he’d kill him for sure.”

  Twelve

  KARINA

  RIVERTON, JUNE 8, 1910

  Why on Earth was it so hot? The summer heat and humidity had set in early this year. Little beads of sweat trickled down Karina’s neck as she made her way down the hill from Henry’s peaceful neighborhood toward the mill. It was long after sunset and approaching ten o’clock. Surely her family would be asleep when she got home. At least that was what she hoped.

  Karina had stayed unusually late at Henry’s, repaying him for the unexpected kindness he had shown her earlier in the day. Much to her surprise, he had come home with a department store dressmaker bearing loads of fabrics and patterns. Henry wanted Karina to have a wardrobe of expensive clothing that would befit her new position among New York society. He took a keen interest in the fabric samples, choosing a green satin and a red chiffon for her. Karina could barely contain her excitement when she fingered the luxurious textiles.

  Though conflicted and plagued with guilt, Karina had decided within a few days of Henry’s proposition that it would be wise to keep her options open. She’d continued to satisfy his needs and had even stopped by the library to read the New York Times society pages. She familiarized herself with the names of the city’s most prominent families and read about their interesting affairs. She grew both anxious and excited every time she imagined herself fashionably dressed at a social gathering on Park Avenue.

  As Karina tiptoed through the front door, she was surprised to find Janos reading at the kitchen table by candlelight. The house had looked dark from the outside. “Why aren’t you using the oil lamp?” she whispered.

  “Wax is cheaper,” Janos mumbled. “Karina, sit down. We need to talk.”

  Her husband sounded frighteningly serious. Karina sank into a chair as he took her hand and squeezed it gently. She grew nervous as she studied his troubled face.

  “I got some disturbing news today. I’m not supposed to know this, but secrets have a way of getting out.” Janos swallowed hard. “Henry Archer is being promoted and moving to New York City. You’re going to lose your job.”

  Karina gasped. “How did you find out? It was supposed to be a secret.”

  “You knew about this?” Janos let go of her hand and gave her a sideways look.

  “I’ve known for about a week.” Karina had bent the truth only slightly.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? We can’t survive long on my paycheck. You need to start looking for a new job right away.”

  Karina groaned. That was exactly why she had kept her mouth shut. Why go to the trouble of scouring the town in search of a new job when there was a chance she wouldn’t need one? If she left for New York with Henry, those humiliating efforts would have been wasted.

  “Are you going to answer me?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you, Janos. I was trying to figure things out on my own. I’m sorry.” She stroked her husband’s arm, ashamed of the lies that came so easily. “How did you find out about the promotion?”

  “One of the workers at the mill overheard Archer talking to a mechanic. He didn’t say when he was leaving, but I’m sure it’s soon.”

  “End of June.”

  Janos nodded. “I wish you’d told me. I’ve been sitting here all evening trying to think of a solution. I don’t want you back at the boarding house.”

  Karina studied Janos as he scraped some dried wax off the table. His fingers were cracked and callused, the nails badly chipped and discolored. He had the hands of a working man. A laborer.

  After a minute of silence, he looked up. “I’ve also been thinking that it’s time for me to get out of the mill.”

  Karina’s eyes widened. “How? You’d never find a job that pays as good.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s time to look at other options. Maybe ten years in Riverton is long enough. We came here to take care of Anna and the boys after Stefan died, and now Walter and Daniel are grown.” Janos leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I have some money saved. I think it’s time to leave.”

  “Where would we go?”

  “Sofie told me Marie’s family is thinking of heading up north to work in a glass factory. Maybe we could go, too. I could get a job as a laborer—it would be safer than the mill. The pay wouldn’t be as good, but we could rent a bigger house with my savings and take in some boarders.”

  “I suggested renting to boarders years ago, but you refused. You were too worried about the safety of the children.”

  “I know. But Sofie and Lukas are older now. I’ll make sure the boarders are good people. There will be no drinking or cursing in our home.”

  “And the extra housework?”

  “You and Anna can take care of the cooking and washing. Sofie and Lukas can help after school. It could work.”

  Karina was speechless. She did want a safer job for Janos and a better life for her family. But she couldn’t imagine going back to cooking and cleaning all day for strangers, much less sharing a house with them. If she decided not to leave town with Henry, she would have no choice but to go along with Janos’s plan.

  “Karina? What do you think?”

  “What makes you so sure Anna will leave? She’s lived in this town for twenty-five years.”

  “I’ve already spoken to her. Her boys are in Connellsville and have their own lives now. She loves Sofie and Lukas as if they were her own. She wants what’s best for our family.”

  Karina shook her head. “But why now? I thought you’d made peace with working in the mill.”

  “I thought I did, too, but I can’t stop thinking about what happened to Tomas Tomicek—and several others who’ve been injured or killed
over the years. What would happen to all of you if I died? How would you survive? It’s all I can think about.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’m surprised you’d take such a huge risk.”

  “Staying at the mill is an even bigger risk. And if the glass factory doesn’t work out, I’ll try something else.” Janos scratched his head. “Maybe one of the Heinz plants. Or farming. I have enough saved to rent some land and a small house.”

  “You’re beginning to sound desperate.”

  “I just want to be here for my children.”

  “And what about your wife?” Karina crossed her arms.

  “I want to be here for you, too, but would you even notice? I’m invisible to you.”

  Karina winced. The guilt struck her like lightning. She looked into her husband’s sad eyes and felt genuine remorse for neglecting him. “I’m sorry that’s how you feel.” She reached for his hand.

  Janos pulled his chair closer to Karina and wrapped an arm around her. He rubbed her back gently. “Maybe getting out of this town will change everything for us. Maybe we can find our way back to each other.” He kissed his wife’s neck as he slipped a hand under the waistband of her skirt.

  Karina pushed his hand away. “I’m sorry. I’m too tired tonight.”

  Janos let go of her and straightened. “Then why did you work so late this evening?” he asked with a hint of sarcasm.

  Karina’s mind rushed to invent an excuse. “Henry’s tailor was at the house with fabric samples and patterns for new suits. They drank cocktails all evening and wanted a late dinner. I had to feed them, of course.”

  “Since when do you address your employer as ‘Henry’?” Janos narrowed his eyes.

  Realizing her slip, Karina tried to make light of her mistake. “Is that what I said? Must be because I heard the tailor calling him that all evening. Drunken fools.”

  “I wonder if those suits are for his new job. That would certainly make sense. There’s something else I need to tell you about your employer.”

  “What now?”

  “Archer’s partly to blame for that crane accident. He’s in charge of equipment inspections at the mill. He somehow forgot—or didn’t care—to have someone work on the crane at my furnace.”