No, Cutter thought, she wasn’t the only one.Most of the men at the mine disliked John, but it was worse for Cutter.John went out of his way to put him down.Cutter found that hard to take, even when he told himself that itwas because John was jealous.John didn’t have anywhere near as smooth a relationship with Eugene as Cutter did.Cutter figured that any son in a like position would be jealous.But that didn’t give John the right to punish him, especially not in front of everyone at the mine.He had his pride, too.
That pride took some twists that Cutter didn’t expect in the months that followed.The incident with Jethro Lamall was the first of several in which he found himself speaking up against something he considered unfair.Eugene was never the problem.Once in a while, Simon was, but it was usually at John’s instigation.
John was the problem.Cutter was sure that if John were around more, most of the miners would quit.The fact that he wasn’t there for more than a week out of every four was some consolation to the havoc his presence wreaked.He had specific opinions on running the mines.Although Eugene had been running things well for some thirty-odd years, John was convinced he knew better.Inevitably he either wanted to work the men harder or pay them on a scale based on output.Even the younger men, who had strength and stamina on their side and could produce more than the older men, were against that.The older men were their fathers, their brothers, their friends.
Cutter wasn’t anyone’s brother or son.He had no family to support.He didn’t have to worry that if he angered John, retribution might take the form of punishment to people he loved.He didn’t have as much to lose as the others.
That was one of the reasons why he came to their defense.Another was the same defiance that had driven himso often in the past.He didn’t like John.He didn’t like being put down by John.Speaking up to him in front of the other miners brought a deep satisfaction, particularly when it had to do with justice, and especially when it had to do with something he was sure Eugene believed in, too.In an odd way, Cutter felt that he, more than Simon, was Eugene’s on-site representative at the mine.
The other miners came to feel that way too; increasingly they looked to Cutter when something went wrong.While he had no desire to be a hero and continued to keep to himself once he left the mine at the end of the day, he wasn’t adverse to championing the workers’ causes.It gave him a good feeling.It gave him a sense of power.
John didn’t like that much, which enhanced its appeal.Cutter began speaking up just to let John know that the other miners respected him.Simon respected him too—or respected the fact that the other miners looked to him for leadership—and occasionally left him in charge of things at the site.Since John was never around at those times, there was little joy in it for Cutter.He didn’t aspire to be a foreman.He didn’t like the idea of ordering the other men around.Whatever leadership potential he had he used in his silent battle with John.Power, in any other context, didn’t excite him.
“Daddy and John were arguing again today,” Pam told him one late-summer evening.Cutter had gone into town for a six-pack of beer and had found her sitting on the steps outside Leroy’s store.Unable to resist, he sat down beside her.“It was about you this time.”
“About me?”he said with a half-smile.She looked so serious, so grown-up, so adorable in a T-shirt and cut-offjeans, with her hair in a single long ponytail and her feet bare.
“Daddy was saying that you’ll be in charge of the mine someday.John didn’t think so.”
“No, I doubt he would.But he doesn’t have to worry.I don’t want to be in charge of the mine.”
Pam looked startled.“Why not?You’d be in charge of everyone.You’d get more money.”
“And more headaches.”
“Do you get headaches now?”
“No.But Simon does.”
“That’s because John makes him nervous.”
“John makes me nervous.”
“But you can fight him,” she urged with a touch of excitement.“Simon can’t.He’s too old.He senses a shift in power.”
Cutter was always amazed at Pam’s instincts when it came to the business.Nudging her side, he asked, “How do you know that?”
“I can see it.”
“Little girls aren’t supposed to see things like that.They’re supposed to be sweet and innocent.”
“For God’s sake, Cutter, I’m nearly thirteen.”
He grinned.“Hard to believe.Or not hard at all.Depends on how you look at it.”He held his head back and peered at her.“You’re gettin’ taller, all right.”
“Don’t talk down to me,” she said more soberly.
“But you are getting taller.”
“And older.And I see things.I do, Cutter.And you’re trying to change the subject.”
“What is the subject?”
“John.You could fight him, and Daddy would be on your side.”
“But John is his son,” Cutter said, all kidding forgotten.“It’s not my place to come between them that way.”
“Not even so you could get ahead at the mine?”
