Canyon Secret (19 page)

On the drive back from Ceserani’s Grocery store, Katya turned toward David, “I’m happy you and Tommy are here. It’s like we’re a family again. Do you think it’ll work as well once we move up to Columbia Falls in October?”

“What? Did you say you’re movin’ up to Columbia Falls? That’s the first I heard about that. When did this all happen?” “Well David, didn’t Daddy talk to you about it?”

A hundred thoughts ran through his mind with the thought of his wife and child living near him again. His freedom to come and go would end. It would be difficult to see other women. And dealing with her father all of the time. “No! He never told me a goddamn thing about it. We don’t talk or see each other. We hate each other for Christ’s sake!”

She regretted even mentioning it to him. A perfect visit’s now ruined. “I’m sorry, David. I thought for sure Daddy would tell you about it. Please don’t be angry. It’s been a perfect visit. Let’s talk about it some other time.” She affectionately touched his shoulder. “Please, David. Forget about it for now.”

“Okay. Okay. We’ll talk about it later.” He didn’t speak another word all the way back to the house. His mind moved on to his date later on that day with his old girlfriend. Her husband worked on the docks in Seattle during the strike.

Katya interrupted, “Are you still goin’ to the baseball game with Tommy?”

“Ya. Ya. We’re goin’ at 1:00. McQueen’s playin’ the Silver Bow Park team. Should be a good game. I promised Tom I’d take him.”

“Good. Anna can rest and we’ll have another nice supper and evening together.”

They carried the groceries inside and for the time being called a truce to their argument about moving to Columbia Falls.

The Butte Copper Baseball League began in 1944. All of the games were played at Clark Park, the stadium built in 1921 by one of the Copper Kings, William Clark. Baseball and football games were played there during those seasons. In the winter, the field was flooded and ice-skating took place during the frigid months of December and January.

The ride to Clark Park took ten minutes and on the way David splashed on some Old Spice from a bottle he stashed beneath the front seat. He wiped the overflow from the white bottle on the thigh of his Wrangler Jeans. Tomas looked but didn’t comment. Since breakfast, his fatigued mind battled the accident scene on the Dam. He relived the movement of the men in their frantic rescue efforts. Fatigue sent him a siege of irritation and crowded him with the thought of Shorty Davis. His daydreaming went unnoticed as David backed his pickup into a makeshift parking spot near the sidewalk on the right field side of the stadium.

Tomas struggled out of the seat, as the passenger door once again would not open from the inside. Calmly, David came around and opened the door for him. “The game’s on me today, Tommy. My treat. It’ll be worth it just to see some of my old friends and watch a ballgame on a beautiful day like this here one.”

A tight-lipped smile faked its way across Tomas’s mouth. Quietly he answered, “Yep. It’s nice today. I hope McQueen wins. The Standard said Mulcahy pitchin’ and he hasn’t lost a game this year so far.”

The old turnstile squeaked as the two men handed the elderly man their ticket stub and walked under the grandstand. David handed Tomas a silver dollar and said, “I need to use the John before going in. Buy us a couple of bottles of pop. Be sure and get a cup for me with some ice in it. I’ll meet you at the bottom of the steps.” He stepped in through the open door and went into the men’s room.

He twirled the silver dollar between his fingers as he waited for the cute girl to fill his order. Tomas looked around at the people as they talked and moved toward the steps to the grandstands. He overheard two middle-aged men talk about the exciting news going around about the Anaconda Company making an offer that sounded pretty good. Tomas felt a twinge of hope for the town that the Strike of 1952 might be coming to an end.

David joined him and took the cup with the ice from Tomas. He motioned Tomas over to the space behind the men’s room. From his back pocket he pulled out a pint of Jim Beam and poured half of it into the paper cup. He topped it off with a dab of Pepsi. Tomas grimaced as he stared at the whiskey bottle. Memories of David’s previous actions while drinking bothered him. He turned away and walked toward the stairs.

It appeared that most of the McQueen community already took seats on the ancient wooden block seats. Tomas and David sat down on the last two seats in the front row near the aisle. It was perfect for Tomas as he stretched out his long legs into the front aisle and sat back against the bleacher type seat. David took a few long drinks from his pop cup. The first pitch came, and the crowd clapped as the batter popped up to the shortstop. David took advantage of the action and poured more from his whiskey bottle into his cup.

After the first inning, Tomas noticed a high school friend sitting a few rows over. She sat with her parents and casually sent a few looks his way. The last time he saw her he said goodnight after their date to the prom over a year ago. His family situation and the Strike prevented him from asking her out after that one and only date. David gently elbowed him, “Hey, Tommy. I gotta take off for just a little bit. Somethin’ I gotta do. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t you want me to go with you, David?”

He stood up and waved his hand, “No. Stay here and enjoy the game. Like I said, I’ll be right back.” Before Tomas could answer, David disappeared down the steps. His patience with David grew shorter by the minute. Maybe his dad and Nolan were right about him. Last night was good, but he started drinking early today and now he just left.

Tomas and his friend both snuck a look at the same time and quietly snickered. Between the second and third innings, she came over and sat down next to him. “Hi, Tom Anzich. Long time no see.”

“Hi, Susan. How’s it goin’?”

The white peddle pushers she wore contrasted perfectly with her tan legs. Hours of delivering A & W Root Beer to customers in their cars provided her with a great opportunity to get tan. Her bare arms matched the dark brown skin on her legs. “You look good, Tom. I heard you worked on the Hungry Horse Dam. I—”

One of the three young men sitting two rows behind them interrupted her, “Hey, Anzich. How’s it feel to be a scab?”

Tomas slowly turned away from his friend and looked in the direction of the high-pitched voice behind him. He recognized one of the men, but didn’t know the other two with him. Susan placed her hand on his arm, “Don’t listen to them, Tom. I broke up with the bigmouth a couple of months ago. He’s jealous and still thinks we’ll get back together.”

The pitcher dropped the resin bag and bounced the ball a couple of times in his mitt. He approached the mound and looked in at the catcher for the signal. Tomas tried to ignore the remark from the guy behind him, but his irritation with David and his fatigue from not sleeping the night before shortened his patience. Again the man from behind belted out another barb loud enough for Tomas to hear, “I heard the Union is blackballing Anzich and his old man for scabbing.”

Without saying a word, Tomas bounced out of his seat and leaped up to the row where the three men sat. He excused himself and crossed in front of the people who also sat in the row. Once he reached the three men, he squeezed between them and sat down. His voice cracked as he spoke, “Which one of you called me a scab?” Even sitting down he towered over all three of the young men. My dad and me ain’t scabs. We’re workin’ the Dam so my niece can fight the polio.”

Two of the men looked away from Tomas’ deep-penetrating stare. Susan’s ex-boyfriend glared at Tomas. “It was me, Anzich. So you wanna make somethin’ of it.”

“I don’t want no trouble. Just wanna watch the game and go see my sister and little niece.”

“You ain’t only a scab. I think you’re a chickenshit too.”

Tomas looked at the field at the crack of the bat from McQueen’s Kasun. He watched as the ball sailed over the right field fence. The crowd stood and cheered as McQueen took a three run lead. He looked down at the man in his Golden Glove gold sweater with the pair of boxing gloves on the side. “Like I said, I don’t want to fight ya.”

He walked toward the aisle. The man hit him in the back of the head with a half-full cup of soda pop. Tomas turned around, motioned his head, and said, “Let’s go.”

The three men noisily climbed out of their seats and followed Tomas down the stairs. A few others followed to see the fight. Under the grandstands, Tomas stopped and faced his opponent. Rage overcame him and matched the storming butterflies in his stomach. Everything that happened in the past week pushed him to an angry place he’d never been before. He glanced around to try and recognize one person he knew. Nobody. He looked toward the parking lot. No David in sight.

A tight ring circled him. The man put in a mouthpiece and fingered on tight gloves. He snorted a few times through his nose, bobbed his head back and forth, and mumbled through his mouthpiece, “Let’s go, Scab. Tomas’ hands hung by his side. The man snapped two quick jabs into Tomas’s face. Before he could follow with a right hand, Tomas unleashed a right hand of his own. The loud snap of the man’s jaw echoed around the rafters of the grandstands. The man staggered and attempted to launch another round of jabs. He dropped quickly to his knees. His jaw hung open. It was badly broken.

The speed and power of Tomas’ punch frightened him. Hours and weeks of vibrating cement with Shorty developed his upper body to a muscular level he’d never known. With his fists clenched, he stared down at the man as his two friends hovered around him. The crowds disbursed as someone yelled the cops were coming. Tomas knelt down beside the injured man. “I told you I didn’t want any trouble. You wouldn’t stop. Now look. I’m sorry. I-I—”

One of the man’s friends said, “You gotta car to take him to the hospital?”

“No. I came with my brother-in-law. He left for a minute.” The police officer walked up to the scene. “Jesus Christ. His jaw’s broken. You do this?”

Tomas nodded his head and helped the man to his feet. The stunned look on his face imprinted its ugly distortion into Tomas’ memory. Another police car pulled up in front of the gate. The attending police officer waved the other police officer over. The two officers walked the injured man to the car. They placed him in the back seat. Tomas stood and watched as the police car turned the corner onto Texas Avenue in route to St. James Hospital. The other police officer stood with Tomas. “You and his pals need to come with me up to the station. We’ll figure it out up there.”

Afterwards, on the trip from the police station to McQueen, the police officer asked Tomas questions about Hungry Horse Dam. As he stopped in front of their home, the police officer faced Tomas. “He deserved it. I’ll give you that. His whole family would cause trouble in church. But you’d best get a hold of that temper of yours. You don’t know your own power. Your share of fixing that broken jaw might be pretty stiff. Walk away next time. You’ll hurt somebody sometime. Understand, Anzich?”

In his typical quiet voice, Tomas replied, “Yes, Sir. I understand. Thanks for the ride home.” He stuck out his hand and the officer firmly shook it. Tomas walked to the door and wondered what he’d tell his sister about David.

The screen door squeaked as he opened it. Anna smiled at him as he entered. He turned quickly to see his sister approach from the kitchen. She dried her hands on her apron. She looked around him and outside and then asked, “Where’s David?”

“Umm. I don’t know for sure, Kat. It’s a long story for being gone such a short time.”

She gently reached up and touched his bruised right cheek. “What happened to your face? Did you get hit or something?”

“I got into a fight and—”

“Who with? Where’s David?”

His hands rose in front of his face. “I need to use the bathroom first. Then I’ll tell you all about it. And what smells so good out in the kitchen?”

Katya’s voice turned irritable. “Just use the bathroom.” She returned to the kitchen in her patented lightning quick, angry pace. Anna turned her head from her uncle to her mother and back to her uncle until he disappeared down the hall toward the bathroom. She lifted her oxygen mask and took a sip of her lemonade.

David said goodbye to her and tucked his white tee shirt into his jeans and clumsily closed his zipper. He puffed on his cigarette as he sat in his truck seat. “Holy shit! It’s almost six o’clock. Can’t believe I spent all day with her. Shit!” The steady diet of whiskey drinks clouded his mind. He dropped the keys as he attempted to start the engine. Another clumsy move knocked the cigarette out of his mouth onto his lap. His head pounded as he pushed the cigarette onto the floor and stomped it out with his boots. Then he remembered he left Tomas at Clark’s Park. “Christ! I better go by there to see if he’s standin’ out there waitin’ for me.”

Katya’s pork roast dinner with mashed potatoes and homemade applesauce sat on the table. The clean housecoat and makeup job she applied caught her brother’s compliment, but it wasn’t for him. David bounced the truck into the curb in front of the house. He talked to himself and convinced himself that he wasn’t too drunk. The sidewalk embraced his fall ten feet from the front door. Katya stared at him through the bay window. She stormed into her bedroom and slammed the door.

David staggered into the living room. Anna poked at her dinner from the adjustable table in front of her. She watched in amazement at her brother as he devoured the large portion of gravy-covered food. They both looked up as David banged his knee against the coffee table. “Oopps! How’s dinner?”

“Mommy’s crying.”

Tomas set his plate on the arm of the couch and stood up.

He took David under the arm and tried to lead him toward the door, “Let’s go outside and talk, David.”

“Screw yourself. I’m hungry. Where’s my supper?” He pushed away from Tomas and staggered into the kitchen.

The bedroom door flew open and Katya stomped out. She stopped at the stove, picked up the tin foil covered dinner, and tossed it against the wall just barely missing David’s head. “There’s your supper you drunken son-of-a-bitch. Eat it off the floor like the dog that you are!”