“It’s a subtle change, but it’s lining up properly with what weneed it to be,” Owen declared. “Sometimes it’s not immediately evident what’s being accomplished. Kind of like when God is working on our hearts.”
Gary frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know about that, but it seems to me there has to be an easier way to get this metal shaped like you want it.”
“There are machines that can bend metal and shape it, but this requires precision, and doing it by hand is the only real way to have it turn out the way I need it. Now, please, stop trying to cut corners.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You’re trying to come up with a better way—an easier way—but sometimes good things take effort and time. Just trust that we’ve been doing this long enough to know what’s needed.” Owen gave him a smile of encouragement. “Now, pick up your sledge, and let’s try again.”
The afternoon seemed to drag by. Gary was constantly heading to the water bucket for drinks of water, and then, of course, he needed the privy. He was sweating no more or less than the others, but he was clearly more uncomfortable. Owen had assumed this would be the case, since Gary had never worked a job—particularly one in the desert heat with railroad ovens. It was a harsh initiation, but he had asked for it, and Owen had warned him.
By the time the whistle was blown to end the workday, Owen could see that Gary was more than happy to follow the boomers off for cold beer and female company.
Owen, however, delayed him and sent the boomers on. They would have plenty of time to be a bad influence on the young man.
“You did good for your first day, Gary. I suggest you take a swim in the river. That’s what I like to do. I’m headed there now, if you want to join me.”
“I don’t have a suit.”
Owen laughed. “None of us do. You can either swim in your undergarments or without them. Some even go in fully dressed as a way to wash their clothes at the same time. There aren’t any women around, so it’s perfectly acceptable however you choose. Come on. I’ll show you where we go.”
He left the shops and led Gary down a narrow path behind the roundhouse and along the railroad fence. There was an opening in the fence just big enough for the men to file through one at a time, and on the other side was the river. They moved past the shop and rail yard grounds to where the iron railroad bridge offered a little shade. Here, there were already a dozen men shedding their clothes and seeking the water for refreshment.
“It’s a great way to end a day,” Owen said as he started taking off his overalls. He glanced at Gary, whose simple white shirt and gray trousers were now covered in sweat, soot, and oil. “We’ve got to get you some better work clothes. After our swim, come back with me to the company houses. We’ll ask around and see what we can find that someone can spare.”
“I know these are ruined. I’ve got holes where the sparks caught my cuffs on fire.”
“Yeah, they’ll do that, but don’t worry. We’ll get you set up in decent style. I wanted you to see what the job entailed before you went all out.”
“I can’t say I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.” Gary smiled. “And if I’d known about cooling down with a swim, I might have had a better disposition.”
Owen slapped him on the back. “Well, how about this? Last one in the water buys supper at the Harvey House!”
He pulled off his cotton shirt and tossed it aside before dropping to the sandy soil to get rid of his shoes. Gary laughed and did the same, just as Owen had hoped. He wanted more than anything for Gary to have a sense of camaraderie with the men and with him. Mr. Payne would say it wasn’t good tofraternize with your subordinates, but Owen had seen good things accomplished by being a friend as well as a boss. It was a balancing act, to be sure, but just as respect had to be earned, so did friendship. Trust wasn’t something Owen gave easily, but he hoped to be able to put faith in this young man.
5
Despite the swim he claimed to have taken after work, Gary showed up to the table for supper that evening dirtier than Susanna had ever seen him. Mother was appalled and demanded he go change his clothes, and Susanna suggested he take a bar of soap they’d received from the pounding and use it liberally.
“You’re always picking on me,” he declared.
“Well, I certainly cannot eat dinner with you smelling this way,” Mother declared, sticking her nose in the air. “The smell of oil or whatever it is has already given me a headache. Susanna, I’m going to my room. Bring me a tray.”
Susanna nodded. What else could she do? Father was just coming through the door, and Gary was marching around the room, ranting about having already washed off in the river. She looked at the casserole she’d heated for supper. It was compliments of Mrs. Lewis, the pastor’s wife. She had explained it was Mexican in origin, with a very mild amount of spices, since she didn’t know what the family might be able to stomach.
“What smells so good?” Father asked.
“This is something Mrs. Lewis called enchilada casserole,” Susanna explained. “It has corn tortillas and beef and cheese and spices. She tells me it’s quite good. I haven’t yet tried it.” She placed the glass dish on the table. “I also sliced some hamand fried it, and cut up some fresh vegetables. It’s very simple fare but all that I could manage in between helping Mother rearrange the bedroom.”
Father glanced toward his bedroom. “I didn’t get to talk to you after you came back to clean the hotel rooms. How was the party?”
“It was lovely.” Susanna went back to the tiny kitchen to retrieve the platter of store-bought bread and butter.
“And did your mother at least enjoy being the center of attention?” Father asked, once again casting a quick glance toward the bedroom door. No doubt he feared his wife overhearing his snide comment.
“She did for a time.” Susanna brought the tray of vegetables and placed it on the wooden trestle table. “She didn’t understand the concept of them bringing gifts of food and laundry soap.”
“What was that all about?” Her father took his chair and reached for a pitcher of iced tea.
