Henry Jackson looked over his five new crew members. “Roger, I understand you knocked down one of our men while he was standing on the coach platform of the train yesterday.” “What difference does that make? It was a damned Siwash I knocked over. Besides, we got ganged up on.” “Yes, so I heard. I really feel sorry for you guys. Five to one in your favor, and you got ganged up on. I’m going to give a piece of advice to all of you. It does not matter to me or anyone else what you think of any man or group of men here. That’s between you and them. But if you start a fight--and you definitely started that one Roger--we have a problem. If anything like that happens again, we’ll run you all off. “I wouldn’t be calling those Indians “siwash” either, if I were you. It sets them off. You have to work with them, so watch your language. “It’s best if all of you stay clear of the Indians. They’re the paint crew, and those two older two do work that puts most everyone else to shame. Our yard crew serves as the support for them, so let’s do our part. By the way, that guy Cap who downed all five of you is a champion boxer. We put him up against someone much bigger who thought he was really good. He had to leave. Cap’s no one to mess with. “We have several loads of lumber to haul up to the aerial tram loading dock. Let’s get to work.” Johnny, Charles, and Cap stood in the paint shop looking at the newly painted gray floor. It was finally dry. “Well, Cap, the floor paint sure improves the place. That spilled red just didn’t look good. The old floor needed painting anyway. Still smells like wet paint, though.” “This is where dad worked all these years?” “This was it, Charles. Except for the paint cans we had to haul out of here it was a very neat shop. He left it ready for the next job. How are you with heights?” “I’m not like you, Johnny. I’d prefer to stay on the ground.”
“Cap and I will need you on a temporary platform with us which the carpenters are building along the top of the mill. You don’t need to get way out there with us, but you’ll still be way up there. You think you can do it, Charles?” Charles looked at Johnny, then Cap, then swallowed hard, hesitated and finally answered. “I’ll anything you need, big brother. That’s what I’m here for. I really don’t like heights, but I’ll go out there if that’s what you want.” “That’s what I thought. The scrapers, brushes and extensions are all here. We’ll take those and a can of thinner each and walk on up there. By now the carpenters and laborers should have already started.” Johnny examined the platform, which was being extended from the far northeast corner of the top of the mill as planned. The yard crew had brought up some eight-foot ladders as well. He followed along the platform as far as it went, inspecting the condition of the old paint. “Henry, this area down here will need scraping. I’ll leave that to your crew while the three of us begin at the back end of the mill on the Jumbo tram terminal side.” The three of painters set up for the job. Johnny sent Charles to the shed for a five-gallon can. Cap worked the lid open and began stirring. Johnny examined the color. It was a very light gray. He shook his head. The back end of the mill required only minimal scraping. He set his brother and Cap to work on the small scraping job while he brushed on the first of the new light-gray paint along the wall where the platform started. Henry Jackson wandered over to look at the fresh red paint and was startled to see light gray being applied. “Johnny! What are you doing? Where’d you get that? It looks like floor paint!” “I guess no one told you, Henry, that this year the mill building is gray. Yes, this is it. Gray paint. The management says gray and gray it is.” He gave a wink toward Henry and continued. “Management is never wrong. We all know that. If that’s what they want, we sure have enough of it stacked up here, though no one bothered to tell me it was light-gray paint. Not that I need to be told.” Henry wandered back up the scaffold toward the front of the mill. Johnny smiled at Cap, who gave him a discreet, knowing look. They had become a party to the inside knowledge of a goof by management and both intended to keep it that way. Johnny kept a wary eye on the yard crew, not trusting any of the new ones from Cordova. The crew went on as though the Indians weren’t there. He remained on alert, expecting nothing but evil from those men. The carpenter crew under Chris Jensen kept the yard crew busy running back and forth for material. The scaffolding was going up much more rapidly than either Johnny or Chris had expected. By the end of the day the carpenters had extended it all the way down the north wall, then wrapped it around the front, just over the roof of the elevator cap. This was the critical point where the platform cables would be anchored that would lower Cap and Johnny down the west-facing wall from the twelfth floor to the eighth. It was a long drop. If one were to fall straight down from the top level, he would hit the first roof five stories down. If he did not crash through there, he would roll down a long series of six steep roofs all the way to track grade, where a final twenty-five foot drop would surely finish him off. The three Indian painters walked gingerly down the two plank-wide platform to the front of the mill. The platform stopped short of the northwest end of the building. At that end the men had to climb an eight-foot ladder which led to the platform over the top of the elevator cap. This was the top level of scaffolding. It continued around the thirteenth floor level, finally ending at the rear of the conveyor cap. This was the highest level, immediately behind the elevator cap. It topped the building off at the fourteenth level. Johnny looked at the scaffold work. It was well-anchored and appeared adequate to support the cables which would be attached to the narrow front end of the mill.
“I’m not sure how they’ll do the rigging, but this platform looks like it should do the job.” Charles, from this very high vantage point was looking south in the direction of the west barrack, which appeared very small from the top of the mill. He realized with some trepidation that he had never been so high up in his life. Cap looked down the Kennicott Glacier toward the distant Chugach Range and was pleased. Fortunately, there was almost no wind. This was no place to be in the face of gusty winds, even though the temporary hand rails the carpenters had installed at this high level seemed quite stable. “The carpenters did well,” Cap observed. “Yes, they took on this job quickly and expertly from what I can see. This is much better than anything I would have done. But that’s Chris Jensen. He’s reputed to be the best in the territory. Looks good. Let’s head back. They passed by the painted area, which had reached the point where the Jumbo tram terminal angled to meet the Bonanza tram. These two tram terminals met each other at the back of the mill in a Y-formation. The mill was built in a straight line with the Bonanza tram, which headed straight east, while the Jumbo tram met the mill at a thirty-degree angle from the northeast. Over the next week the painters would finish the north wall. Then the dangerous hanging platform work over the high west face of the mill would begin. In the evenings after work the billiards tables were kept busy. Johnny found himself challenged by Roger Hyde, the man he had struck in defense of this brother Charles. Roger was no match for Johnny at pool. He only played Johnny to try to unnerve him. Roger Hyde had an obvious chip on his shoulder. The next man to challenge Johnny was Kevin James, then Scott Sommers, then the other two who had been knocked down by Cap. For some reason, the five men had chosen Johnny, rather than Cap, as their first target. Cap and Charles sat on a nearby bench watching it all. Each man shot in a hard and angry fashion. They routinely made a point of following each other in a game of nerves against Johnny, subtlety revealing their grudge against all three Indians. Johnny could see the unmistakable predatory look in the eyes of each of these men. They talked with other whites in an attempt to turn as many of them against the three Indians as possible. An electric charge ran through the air whenever the men played against Johnny. They never challenged Cap. Only Johnny. After a few days of this psychological warfare, Johnny had enough. When he saw Roger Hyde enter the room, he left, followed by Cap and Charles. The three never left each other’s sight. They never returned to the billiards tables while Roger Hyde and the others remained in camp. “They’ve run us out of the billiards hall, Cap.” “Better that, than out of camp. Let them have the place. Who needs it? We can do other things. Let’s play some poker.” “Sound’s good to me, Cap. Hope you’ve got betting money.”
It was stuffy and hot in the room, as an early dry summer turned into a very hot one. Johnny pulled off his heavy shirt first. He was already sweating, but this was partly due to his own anxiety after that pool game. The window view to the north includes all of the mill top where the painting was now underway. He looked up toward the new platform which was wrapped around the top of the building. “One of these days the white men will make a comfortable shirt. These are fine for work, but they’re sure not very comfortable. Like wearing canvas.” “I don’t feel right with those Cordova men around, Sla’cheen. They’re troublemakers. All of them. Trouble. We have to be on guard wherever we go around here.” “They ran us out of the billiards hall, but so far we’ve been able to eat in peace, at least.” “That’s because all the white men have learned to stay clear of us when we’re eating. I give them my most ferocious look, and they leave.” Johnny couldn’t help laughing upon seeing the look Cap revealed. “You’re very good at it, Cap. Who needs a vicious guard dog when we have you?” He laughed until he started coughing. Charles remained completely and blissfully detached from all this. He sensed something wrong, but remained unconcerned. He was fascinated with the place, especially the mill building. He stood up next to his brother and looked out at the mill for the longest time. Then he looked down. Below was yet another long line of ore cars being loaded for the return to Chitina. “I was six when the first train came through our town from Kennecott, though back then I think they called it something else.” “It was Bonanza then. There was no Kennecott, just the Bonanza Mine. The other names came later. Now there are five mines, including that weird Glacier mine which really is a glacier, though it’s a rock glacier. Never heard of those rock glaciers before, and I grew up around here. We’re part of the first generation to see this operation almost from the beginning, at least the railroad end of it” “Yes, big brother--Soon’ga” “No, Skeel’eh, call us sla’cheen. You’ve earned that,” Johnny interjected. Charles looked very pleased at that and continued.
“What I was starting to way was that none of us were up here back then. I always wanted to see the place where so much ore came from. Now I’m finally here. I’m working here, just as Dad did. He would come down from here to visit us, but not very often. He said the family could not visit him up here. Now he’s gone and we’re here.” “Some of my friends, even some of your friends, may criticize me for this, but I like it here. Especially because you, my sla’cheen , are here. I would not want to be here otherwise. I’ll never forget this. You, my older skeel’eh went to the trouble to include me. I’m not ashamed to be here at Kennecott with you. I love it here. I don’t pay any attention to those evil men, because I know deep inside me that this is really our place. That’s why the thought of them doesn’t bother me.” Johnny was still sweating. The beads were slowly running down around his chest and back. “You make me feel hot. I know it is stuffy in here, but not that hot.” He looked at Cap, who was now pulling off his own heavy shirt. Charles did likewise. The three of them sat down in a small circle on the floor on top of their potlatch blankets, facing each other, feeling very Indian, very much a part of each other, and at the same time very much alone. “This is like being in the sez’el without the fire,” Charles observed. “Yes, Sla’cheen, and like in those old days when we shared the sez’el with our grandfather Nicolai, now it is I who want you to keep silent.” Cap never spoke. He stared straight ahead into space somewhere between Johnny and Charles. Charles felt particularly connected to himself as an Indian when Cap was around. Cap had a very strong spiritual quality about him much like that of Nicolai or Doc Billum. I really miss Shee-ya. It felt so good to be around him. So safe. So magical. Like anything was possible. He was great. Cap has become what Shee-ya was. Cap was beginning to feel the same sense of anxiety as Johnny had. But the three of them felt safe in the small circle. They took great comfort in each other’s presence. Johnny was anxious by nature. He would always be the first to tense up and this would show in small ways, such as his tendency to perspire, though he rarely revealed any physical fear. Johnny prided himself in that. He was a natural daredevil. A sense of alarm was slowly seeping into Cap’s inner being. Johnny and Charles were facing him in the circle and could not see through the window. Cap was temporarily brought out of his trance by something at the top of the mill that presided in silence over everything in camp. There it was, a solitary raven flying in a circle high above. Then there were two. Then four. His sense of danger was confirmed. The three of them were no longer alone at Kennecott. Now there was a spirit with them. Cap sensed it was evil. The three leaned in toward each other, all gradually falling into a trance which lasted well into the evening. Charles fell over onto his blanket first. Like the others, he stayed in that position until morning. . Johnny fell over next, also falling onto his own blanket where he remained perfectly still until morning. Cap was the last to fall, remaining in his trance flat on the floor just like the others until morning. Once again he found himself walking the tracks in the blinding sunlight. This time he was completely alone. Something was moving toward him at a rapid speed. He was unable to leave the tracks. He could hear that hollow sound of a train whistle. What was it really? When the three finally emerged from their room in the morning, they would all be operating as one, ready for whatever danger might lie out there, and as completely in tune with each other as three sla’cheen could be.
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09 February 2011
Chapter 40: "The Sla'cheen and the Warning"
Chapter 39: "Charlie Arrives," Pt 2
“How do we get to the top of the mill without going through it?” Cap asked. “The wagon trail up there takes too long. We’ll just use the machine rails and pull ourselves up the hill to the top. I can see the wagon up there from here. Let’s go, Cap.” The two used a cable which seemed to be there just to pull oneself up the hill. The pulled themselves to the top of the wagon trail which leads to the Bonanza, Jumbo and Glacier mines. The wagon was still being unloaded. A small building at the top of the ridge on the north side of the mill served as the temporary warehouse for the paint cans. “Tomorrow we’ll starting building the scaffolding to attach to the north side. Then your crew will scrape the walls while Cap and I begin our painting. We’ll extend the scaffold all the way to there.” He pointed to the elevator cap at the front of the mill. “We’ll build a platform along that end so the two of us can sling ourselves off it and paint the west end.” “What’s this about no scaffolding on the high west wall. Are you both nuts? Do you realize how far down that is?” “We know. We can save time. It’s narrow. We’ll build a rig to lower us down from the top. We don’t expect help from any of you, except to handle the slings and pulleys and stabilize the scaffolding. We’ll handle this high paint work ourselves.” “I don’t mind helping with the scraping on the west wall, Johnny. I’m not afraid of heights.” “That would sure speed things up, Henry. Appreciate it.” Jensen appeared at the loading deck on the Jumbo tram side, bringing one of his carpenters with him. “What do you think, Johnny? North side first?” Johnny explained his plan to the carpenters. Jensen had some problem with the idea of no continuous platform, but he could see Johnny’s point. “I guess if you want to do it that way, we can build it to suit. We should be around the top front with the scaffold and ready for that platform setup in a day or two.” He took a another good look. Having satisfied himself, he indicated that Johnny and Cap should follow him. “The best way to the top is through the mill. Have you ever been through this building?” “Last year we rushed through here on the way back from Erie. We came down the Jumbo tram and followed Frank Buckner to the mid level where the outside stairs lead to the office. But neither of us had time to get a good look at the route.” “I’ll run you through it one more time. It’s a little confusing, so pay close attention. We’ll be using the same route as you did.” They walked past the grizzlies where ore was tumbling through into the Buchanan jaw crushers. Ahead were two large conveyors emerged out of the floor, running side by side to the very top of the mill, then dropping the ore back down into the storage bins below. Beyond the conveyor drop were the two elevators which returned the ore to the top for a second run through the system. The stairs began at the extreme west end. These ran downward several levels to a point where the group worked their way back to the center of the mill near the top of the ore bins. There they found a long, dark, enclosed stairwell which delivered them to mid-level. At the landing an indirect path eventually worked it way over to the new Hancock Jig annex, the large attached building immediately above the office. The men passed through this brightly lit area with its closely spaced, tall windows. They passed a large number of bins and a long working counter. At the extreme south end were the double doors leading to a small deck. This was the top of a machine hoist leading to the track grade. To the left was the stairway which ended at the office. As they stepped out to the deck, they had a good view of their shop just beyond the deeply cut gorge where National Creek ran. “Frank went ahead and sent a telegram to your brother, Johnny. He should be in late tomorrow. When you hear the train whistle, feel free to come on down to meet him.” “No kidding. Frank sent the telegram? I should stop at the office to thank him.” “You could if he was here, but he’s already off to the mines. Your brother will probably arrive with the other five I ordered. They’re coming in from Cordova. We should have a full crew by late tomorrow.” It was a long way the stairs. They passed the office and then turned toward the tracks.
“We’ll check on the shop floor before heading back for dinner, since we just painted it,” Johnny told Chris. The two Indians went through the carpenter shop. Everyone was already gone for lunch. Cap lifted the lid covering the stairwell to the paint shop. The fumes hit him hard. He dropped the heavy lid. “No point in sticking around here, Johnny. Too many fumes.” The work on the scaffolding proceeded faster than the men had anticipated. By mid-afternoon, it was two-thirds of the way to the front on the level which was even with the loading deck floor. It extended from the back of the Jumbo tram in the far northeast corner to just above the trommel addition roof, where the men were able to easily attach the platform supports. Then Johnny heard the distant whistle, after being nudged by Cap, who had already sensed it. Johnny never could account for Cap’s unique ability to sense things happening before they did. But he was no sooner nudged, then he heard the whistle reverberating up the valley. They stood up from the end of the platform just above the trommel roof and rushed down the temporary walkway back to the Jumbo tram loading dock. The two stopped and looked at each other, then nodded. It would be a new shortcut. They headed right over the top of the steep slope of the south-facing hill, heading straight for the back of the superintendent’s house. In a matter of a few seconds, they had stumbled their way past chicken coop behind the house. It was easy going once they passed the coop. They crossed uphill from the superintendent’s house to the walkway, just below the Birch house. The train was getting louder as it reached the south end of the property near the dairy. They entered the three-foot-wide long wooden sidewalk. It had a rail running along the south end, protecting children from the dangerous National Creek gorge just beyond the walkway behind the hospital. The two reached the electricians’ warehouse in time to see the back of the tender heading straight for them being pushed by the Mikado locomotive, which was also traveling backwards, as it nearly always did. The engine was pulling the coach and the usual line of freight cars. The men walked along the train toward the coach, spotting Charlie as he stepped forward from the back end of the combine. His eyes were fixed on the mill, which was the largest and tallest building he had ever seen. One of the men behind him, bumped into Charlie, knocking him off the train. Johnny rushed forward and knocked the man down with his left fist. “You have a problem with my brother here, you have one with me. You want to go for it?” Cap rushed forward, prepared to do battle. The other four piled on him. Johnny pulled Charles out of the way and watched in astonishment as Cap made short work of all five of the men. It was over in less than half a minute. He’d made his point. “I never heard anything about Siwash here,” the first man said, as he pulled himself up off the ground. Upon hearing that, Cap knocked the man down again. The others started to get up, but something frightening in the eyes of Cap caused them to stay put on the ground. Cap stood by calmly as the five pulled themselves up, one at a time. Johnny was the first to speak. “You’re the new yard crew hirees, aren’t you?” One of them nodded. Every one of them looked angry enough to resume the fight, but the presence of Cap was like being held at bay by a large guard dog. “Well, the bad news is, you’re working with us. We don’t care what you think of us. Do your work and let us do ours. And leave my brother alone. He caused you no harm. We don’t have time to teach you guys manners. The office is up there. You better check in.” He pointed to the building at his rear while still facing the four men. The one who had pushed his brother off the coach ramp pulled himself off the ground first. “We didn’t come here to work with no injuns.” “Get used to it. You’re working with us. We can handle the smell of you five, so you just do the work, like I said, and we can all get the job done. We don’t have to like each other to work.” Johnny turned his attention to his younger brother and hugged him. “Am I happy to see you, little brother. Sorry you had to see the worst of how it can be here so early. Sometimes it can get like this.” “I was looking up when I should have been stepping down.” “Cap, you’re amazing. Reminds me of Cascade.” “Exactly,” he said. Then he went over to shake Charles’s hand. “Hey, Cap, what you said about getting me here, was it you that did it?” “It just worked out well. Good to see you, kid.” He hugged Charles. “Let’s get your gear over to the barracks. It’ll be dinner time before you know it. You’re staying with us, kid. Come on.” For the first time ever, there were three Natives to be seen walking down the tracks in front of Kennecott, headed for the west barracks. Others close enough to view the brief one-sided fight would talk about it years later. Cap’s brief encounter with the five men became legendary, not just among the Indians, but even among the whites. No one had ever seen anything quite like it. There was no longer any remaining doubt that Indians could and would hold their own. Sal Reed watched the altercation from the cab of his train. He was prepared to enter the fray with a large iron in defense of the Chitina Indians if he was needed, but Cap single-handedly ended it before it really started. Sal smiled, then pushed the reverse lever as he continued to inch the train consist farther north into the ore loading dock. Chris came up to the three Indians seated alone at the end of one of the tables. “I heard what happened. You know that fighting is not allowed up here. It sounds as though that those men got what they deserved, but you have to be careful about that. Those guys won’t forget their humiliation.” He wandered off to join Henry. “If I had seen it coming I could have handled it, Soon-ga.” “I know, Charles. You’re strong and fast. That man was a coward to push you off the edge of the coach like that. If he had faced you head on, I have little doubt that he would have lost. At least now everyone knows that we Indians stick together, even if it means getting fired. That’s not as important as sticking up for our own. You know that already. We’ll just have to keep a close watch on those five men. They already made it known loud and clear what they think of Indians.” Johnny gave Charles a long look. “I never imagined you would ever be here with us, Charles. It wasn’t that long ago that there were no Indians here at all. But here we are. We’re the first ones. Maybe the only ones. I’m so happy to have you, you can’t believe it. Now we have to show the rest of them how good we are as workers. Cap and I have always done that. Mostly the others leave us alone. “Try to avoid the men you know are trouble. Troublemakers are always troublemakers. They don’t change. But they’re also cowards at heart, so just be wary and you should be fine. We’ll watch out for you, too.” The three Chitina men returned to the room and talked about home for over an hour. Then Charles stripped off his dusty clothes and fell off into a deep sleep on the lower bunk which Cap had used. Cap looked at him sleeping there, apparently exhausted. He shook his head, pulled off his shirt and took the upper bunk, quickly falling off to sleep himself. “Two deep sleepers. I wish I could do that.” Johnny also removed his stiff heavy shirt. White man clothes. What a relief to get out of these at the end of the day. Can’t imagine how those white men can sleep in these stiff things. I could sure use a sezel about now. He pulled off his trousers, then slid into the lower bunk below Cap and across from his younger brother. It was quite warm in the room. It had been getting warmer, but the steam heat was still on. Johnny found he was sweating and his heart was beating hard. He got up to fully open the window.
Johnny finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep. Above him, Cap bolted upright and opened his eyes wide. It was Nicolai again. He was not one to sweat, but he was now. He felt tense. Then he looked down to view the peaceful look on Charles’s sleeping face. Charlie did not seem to be affected at all by that altercation. Charlie had a wonderful way of innocently drifting through life. Cap fell back on his pillow and slipped off into his own special world. He found himself on the tracks with the spirit-dog, walking into the sun in the direction of Nicolai’s camp. It was a beautiful day. For the moment, all was still well in the world. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Chapter 39: "Charlie Arrives," Pt 1
Helen Gadanski Nicolai stopped by the Chitina railroad depot to pick up the telegram for her son. Charles was working the fishwheel just downriver from the railroad trestle. Helen had no schooling and could not read the telegram. She worried that it might be carry bad news from Kennecott. “George, you said this is for my son, but I need to know if it’s bad news. Can you read it and tell me?” George Brown smiled at her and responded. “Helen, I took the telegram, so I know what it says. Guess I should have just told you. Somehow your boy Johnny must have convinced the company to offer your other son Charlie a job working under him. He’s become painter foreman at Kennecott. Someone named Frank is requesting Charles immediately. Frank wants him on tomorrow’s train. You better deliver the message right to him.” “My son Johnny’s a foreman?” Helen sat down on the long bench next to the ticket counter and smiled. “What is it, Helen?” “My son has my husband’s old job. I can’t believe it. I’m so pleased. Now he’s got a job for my other son, Charlie. George, I’m going to kiss you.” The slightly built and very energetic woman grabbed George Brown, hugged him hard, and then kissed him on his cheek. George was amazed at the small woman’s strength. “We should all pleased, Helen. This is not at all like the old Syndicate days. They had a well-known policy against hiring Indians, you know. This despite the fact that we use your people on our railroad here, especially on the spring maintenance crews. But I’ve heard it rumored all that is due to Nicolai’s influence.” Helen sat back down on the bench. She had to digest this for a moment. She was about to lose the use of her only other son for the summer. But she long had wanted something better for Charlie than what could be had at Chitina. Now she was holding the piece of paper granted her wish. The small woman with the graying hair gently folded the paper, then looked up toward George, who was standing above her. “I don’t know how father could have done had anything to do with this. He’s long gone. But he would have approved. I couldn’t hope for more than this for my sons. I’m going right down to the fishwheel to find Charlie.” She rushed out the door, heading for the railroad cut as fast as she could walk, following the rails right down to the river.
Charles was alone at his makeshift table filleting salmon when he heard his mother come through the bushes behind him. At first he thought the noise might be one of those pesky but deadly black bears after his load of fish. He reached for his Winchester when he recognized the shape of his mother working her way down the path. “Mom, is something wrong?” “No son, I have a telegram for you. I want you to read it back to me.” She handed the dull, thin, yellow piece of paper to Charles. He set down his knife and reached for a nearby cloth to clean the fish scales off his hands. In the barrel next to him were dozens of fish still waiting to be processed. On the table and hanging up were many more dozens of fresh fish cleaned, cut and ready for smoking or cooking. The telegram read:
Charles looked up at his mother and jumped for her, hugging the small woman. “I know, son. Let’s clean up this table. I’ll get Violet and Abbey to finish up here. Abbey wants the scraps for her dogs, anyway. We need to get you ready for the train tomorrow.” Up in camp Johnny and Cap were at the paint shop finishing up the cleanup work. “Sla’cheen, there’s some gray floor paint that’s still good. We might as well use it. This spilled red paint just doesn’t look good on the floor. I counted the good cans. There are four cans of red, eight cans of white and five of the dark green plus a full dozen of the gray paint. That’s all the five gallon cans still sealed. I opened one of each color, and they were all good.” “You’ve been busy, Cap. Where was I when all this was going on? Oh yes, I was up there chatting with Henry. I still haven’t told him about what’s really in that boxcar. I have a feeling we better not say anything until the bosses decide what they want to do about it. You’re right, Cap. Since there’s that much gray, we might as well use it to cover up the mess on the floor.” The top of the narrow stairwell darkened as Chris Jensen made his way down the steep wooden stairs. “We have the word from Douglass himself. He put it like this: ‘We don’t make mistakes like that here. Go ahead and paint the mill gray as if we planned it that way.’ “Like there was any other choice. Henry is already up there with his crew unloading all that gray paint into the wagon so they can haul it up the road to the top of the mill.” “I had a feeling this would happen. I couldn’t see them sending back all that paint. It would probably take weeks to get the red lead, and you guys are in too much of a hurry to wait. Shall we go ahead and help Henry’s crew?” “No, Johnny. They can handle it. I see you’ve improved this old shop substantially. Are you getting ready to repaint the floor in gray?” He hesitated and then chuckled. “Actually, yes we are. It seems we’re not exactly lacking in gray paint. Cap has already organized the five gallon cans so you can see our remaining inventory for yourself. I don’t know what you want to do about the hospital addition, but we may have enough paint for it. We even have plenty of dark green if you want it for the trim against the gray. I wouldn’t know what else to use.” Chris looked at the can labels and counted the cans for himself. “Are you sure this is it? Was the rest bad?” “Most of the rest was either bad or questionable. It’s all out on the deck ready to be picked up, ” Johnny responded. “I’ll order more paint, especially red, if I can get it. It’s possible red’s not available right now. You guys go ahead and repaint the floor. You’ll need to leave every window and door open, but I’m closing the lid on the top of the stairwell. We don’t want those fumes in our shop.” Chris headed up the stairs, and the lid shut, just like an attic cover, closing off the stairwell entry. A few hours later, the two painters headed up the rails toward the old boxcar with the paint load. It sat with both sliding doors wide open. The car was empty.
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08 February 2011
Chapter 38: "The Great Paint Job Begins"
Chris Jensen, Johnny, and Cap surveyed the paint job ahead of them. They stood on the walkway behind the electricians’ warehouse just downhill from the office, close to the base of the high-grade ore chute which looked like a long, open stairwell coming from near the top of the mill and ending above the loading dock at track grade. From the proximity of the wooden sidewalk the heigth of the mill building reminded Jensen of a Seattle skyscraper. The mill and tram terminal building was relatively narrow from level seven to the top, but it extended back about 200 feet. The three of them were most interested in the top seven stories which the superintendent wanted scraped and repainted. “This job will require more workers than just the two of us, Mr. Jensen.” “I’m no one special. Call me Chris. I have to agree with you, Johnny. We’re looking at a lot of work up there.” “You have anyone available from the yard crew? I’ll need several of them for the prep work. That’s mostly scraping. Anyone can do that. No skill required there, just plenty of work. It would also be nice to have at least one more painter, since there’s so much surface to cover. Cap and I can handle all the tall parts and use a third man to help with the longer stretches from the terminal level on down.” “I’ll have to get Henry’s yard crew in on this. It’s quite obvious, now that I’m looking at it with you, that this job will need another half dozen men. I already asked Henry about that. He told me that the yard crew isn’t large enough for this job and the other work they normally do as well. “I’ll get some of them released, anyway. I can get a few more out of Cordova, but the labor supply remains short. You know of any good laborers out there?” Cap jumped on the opportunity. “Johnny’s brother, Charles is a very good worker. He’s been on the same maintenance crew as both of us. He’s twenty-two now, and all he’s doing is helping Johnny’s mother and sister with their fish wheels. I’m sure they can find someone else to do that this summer.” “Cap, I’d forgotten you’d talked with him about this job. He really is a good worker. In the last three seasons he’s worked the railroad line crews with us. He’d probably be delighted to have this chance.” “Sla’cheen, he asked for a chance. Here it is, I think.” “The only thing is, well, you know.” “Yes, there is that Indian matter, isn’t there? Tell you what I think. We need the labor. You’re both workers, and I believe your word is good. I’ll stake my own reputation on it and recommend Charles for hire. Charles Gadanski, right?” “Yes, he’s Dad’s youngest son.” “All the better. Douglass will probably like that. I’ll give it a try. Two or three months at most and we can have this job wrapped up. I understand you two plan to be out of here by hunting season this year. Wish I could do that, but I have a family. Have to work here full time.” “We plan to do some guiding this fall. There’s more money in that than working here. Then there’s the moose hunting.” Chris Jensen turned around and started to walk off, then turned back to the men and waved. “Watch me maybe make a fool of myself. All they can do in there is say no.” He headed for the office. “Let’s go over to that boxcar and take a look at that load of paint Chris told us about,” Johnny suggested. The two headed up the tracks to the very north end where an old wooden boxcar was blocked into place. It took both of them pulling at the door to open it. Like the barn door in the paint shop, this one resisted at first, finally relenting with a loud metallic squeal. The old car was stacked high with 5-gallon cans. “Open one of them, Cap. Let’s see what new red paint looks like. All we’ve seen so far is the old, spilled kind.” Cap took a large screw driver off his tool belt. The lid gave way, revealing a clear oil which had moved to the top. “I sure don’t see any red in here, Johnny.” “Stir it up. You know how this paint settles in these large cans.” “I’m telling you, I don’t see a hint of red. It looks gray to me.” He took the large screwdriver and stirred the top. Gray rose to the surface. “It’s gray all right.” Cap got up and looked at the other labels. “Johnny, we seem to have a boxcar load of gray paint here. No one said anything about gray paint. I don’t know anyplace here on the mill site that has gray paint on it.” “Most of the floors have gray paint,” Johnny suggested. “You don’t suppose . . .” “I think they ordered red and got gray. That’s what I think, Sla’cheen. It’s gray. All of it is gray. A whole carload of it. Enough for the mill job. They must have gotten an order mixed up, wherever this stuff comes from.” “Seal it back up, Cap. We better get back to Jensen and see what he knows about this. I have a feeling we’re looking at a major mistake here.”
Jensen could hardly contain himself after talking with the superintendent. “Do you know that Douglass said go ahead and send for your brother Charles? No hesitation. Nothing. Just go ahead, he said. What’s going on up here? Ever since you guys first came here last year this place has changed. I don’t understand. But it’s a good change. Yes, a good change.” Cap couldn’t help but smile at this. A small victory, but a good one. One that really mattered. He was almost beside himself, but he was determined not to show it. Johnny looked at Cap and read his mind. “Jensen, you’re incredible. Charles will be thrilled to work with us up here. I sure look forward to having my little brother here. How can I ever thank you?” “Get the work done on time. No. Get it done ahead of time. Make me look good for what I just did. I put myself out on this one. So did Douglass, actually. And you should know that Frank was right there pushing it as well. Frank seems to have the old man’s ear. That’s good. Did you get a chance to talk to Henry? Never mind. I will. “He and his crew are now officially part of this project. I’m sending for six more men, including your brother, to try to get this thing done on time and get it done right. That’s including the hospital addition. I think that’s what really got Douglass’s attention. He wants that hospital addition, but then, he does have a lot of kids. “Everything’s looking good. I guess we can start hauling all that red paint up to the tram terminal level of the mill.” “It’s not red paint. We checked it.” “What do you mean, it’s not red paint? It has to be red paint. That’s what I ordered. You opened one of the cans and stirred it?” “We did. It’s gray paint. Not red. Gray. A whole boxcar full of gray paint. Enough to do the mill, as long as it’s gray.” “You sure? Maybe it was just one can. Did you open any others?” “Cap opened one. Just one. But when he stirred it, the pigment came up gray. No red. None. All the cans we could see had the same label.” The paint may have been gray, but Jensen turned red. He excused himself and rushed off to his shop, mumbling something about having to check his orders against his waybills. “Just when Jensen thought everything was going well. It started out well enough. I guess this really is a major mistake. It will be interesting to see how this one works out. I think they’re probably stuck with it. We better head back to the shop and start cleaning out Dad’s shop area.” “Our shop area, Sla’cheen. It’s ours now.” Cap found the thinner and the two of them began cleaning as much of the paint off the floor as they could. “This looks ugly. Maybe we should paint it gray.” Johnny gave Cap a nasty look and threw a paintbrush at him for saying that. They were finishing the worst of it when Jensen emerged from upstairs. “I checked my paperwork and I really did order red. Someone at purchasing in Seattle must have goofed. I’ve already alerted the super so he can decide what he wants to do about it. “I never saw him that mad before. He started to blame me, but I had my paperwork to show him, fortunately. He mumbled something I wouldn’t repeat and sent me away. We’ll probably have his answer tomorrow. I guess I should have checked those cans myself, since we’ve had that car sitting back there for over a week, but who would have imagined this happening? “You guys take off. It’s getting near dinnertime and you’ve done enough down here. No one thought to check this shop out either. This mess was our fault. I should have had those old cans moved into a separate storage area or I should have just disposed of them. I must be slipping.” “You’re too young to be slipping, boss. Besides, you said you put in the right order. Someone else goofed.” “How do we dispose of the old paint cans? We’re going to toss out almost all of it. Not much was any good. We opened several cans that had already gone bad.” “Really? That means I’ll need to order some trim paint. Only problem is I no longer know what the primary paint color of the mill will be. Just leave the cans on the deck out there and alert Henry at the yard crew. They’ll pick them up and haul them to the dump.” “You mean you just dump these paint cans, chemicals and all, in the garbage dump?” Cap asked. “Sure. We’ve always done it that way. What else would we do with them?” “Doesn’t that stuff seep into the ground and into the glacier ice?” “Oh, I don’t know. Never gave it a thought. You guys have a good evening.” He disappeared back up the narrow stairs. Cap felt frustrated. “I don’t care much for that, Johnny. You smelled those chemicals. I don’t’ know what it is, but I sure wouldn’t want it leaking all over the ground and seeping down into the ice and water.” “Not a pleasant thought, is it Cap? It’s bad stuff, no doubt about that. But I have no idea what else we’d do with it. Just let the yard crew have it like Jensen suggested. Nothing else we can do.” “I still don’t like it. Enough of this. Let’s get out of here. I’m tired of smelling this lead paint. Phew!” Johnny slid the large door shut, sliding it back along its upper rail. Then Cap and he headed up the stairs and back into the fresh air at track grade. “How do you think Charles will react to the news?” “Cap, he won’t be able to contain himself. He’s always followed me around. And he looks to you as another big brother. He told me about your conversation in the caboose. I never imagined it would actually happen. “We’re becoming like that Irish crew at Cascade. They knew how to stick together. There’s something to be said for that. They had the right idea, even if it worked against the rest of us.” “You mean the rest of us Indians.” The two jaunted up the wide stairs in front of the barracks. Both were feeling a supreme sense of well-being as they entered the dining hall. There was Henry standing in the chow line just ahead of them. “Friendly Henry, how’s it going?” Henry’s eyes widened when he saw the two approach. He extended his large hand to greet them both. “Hey, guys, I see we’ll once again be working together. Jensen is going to order me five more men. There’s a sixth one coming for the paint crew.” “Oh, that’s my brother Charles. The boy’s finally going to see the place the hard way. He gets to work here, like the rest of us.” “Great, I look forward to meeting him. So do we start tomorrow by moving the paint out of the boxcar and up the hill?” “Not yet. There might be a problem with the paint. Can’t say for sure. I’ll let you know as soon as I find out. Speaking of paint cans, we have several of them we need you to pick up from the deck on the lower end of the paint shop. Can you do that tomorrow?” “That’s us. Cleanup and garbage. Odd, now that I think of it, I don’t believe I’ve ever handled old paint cans before. Well, we’ll do it. Let me know when you’re ready to unload that boxcar. I’m surprised it’s still standing out there. It’s unusual for a car to stay up here that long in the summer. Usually they’re unloaded and sent right back to Cordova.” Johnny and Cap left for their room. They planned to play some billiards later, but they wanted to be alone to contemplate the day’s events. “You know, Cap, I think all those paint cans in the shop were stacked up there for a reason. Dad probably didn’t know what to do with them. It’s not like him to have a messy shop area. He was always neat to a fault. He was tough on me when I stayed with him. He demanded neatness and cleanliness. Not to mention a lot of hard work. But my point is that I suspect Dad did not want to send those cans to the dump. He must have had his own concerns. Maybe he wanted them to dry out first. That would probably have been safer. I still think those paint fumes killed him. ” “We’ll never know now. At least we have the extra bed to give Charles in our own room so he doesn’t have to stay with any of those strange white guys.” “They’re not all strange, Cap.” “They’re all white, Sla’cheen. They don’t understand us. Don’t want to, either. We have to stick together.” “You keep saying that, Cap. Time to go downstairs and take over the billiards table.” “You’re on, Johnny, you take it from one of the white guys, and I’ll take it away from you.” “I doubt that, but you can always try. If you think you’re that good, put up your money, Cap.”
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