Chapter Eleven

Charity came into the front room from the corridor and saw Martha standing in the open doorway, leaning against one of the wooden supports. She was staring in the direction of the river.

‘What’re you doin’?’ she asked curiously.

Martha didn’t move, but continued to stand there, silent.

Clutching the piece of paper she was carrying, Charity crossed to the doorway and squeezed between Martha and the doorpost. ‘What’re you lookin’ at?’ she asked, following the line of Martha’s gaze. ‘It’s gettin’ dark. And it’s cold.’

‘Everythin’ and nothin’,’ Martha replied, her eyes fixed on some distant point, seemingly searching for something hidden in the darkness that was falling fast as smoky grey clouds wrapped themselves tightly around the moon.

Charity stared ahead for a moment or two, puzzled, then she inched back and glanced to her right. The bathtub was on the floor in front of the sink. It was full of dirty water, with a layer of black grime and coal splinters floating on the surface. She stared at the tub, her eyes widening in surprise. Joe’s ma always got rid of the dirty water as soon as Sam and Joe’s pa had washed themselves after their day in the mine, so why was it still there?

Her brow creased in bewilderment.

Moving closer to Martha’s side again, she glanced up at her. ‘What d’you mean, everythin’ and nothin’? I don’t understand.’

Martha looked down at her. ‘I was thinkin’ about Joe. He’s only been gone for about three weeks, but it feels much longer. I’m glad he’s gonna be writin’ to us, and tellin’ how he’s gettin’ on.’ She glanced at the letter in Charity’s hand. ‘That’s for Joe, I guess.’

Charity beamed at her. ‘I’m gonna send it tomorrow. I’ll go to the mercantile when I leave the bakery.’ Martha nodded. ‘But what’s the everythin’ and nothin’ you’re lookin’ at? I wanna look at it, too.’

‘The past,’ Martha said with a dry laugh, and she turned back to the night.

The clouds slowly unravelled and drifted away from the pale moon, and the rock-hard ground took on a cold, silvery sheen in the light of the unscarfed moon. ‘I was thinkin’ about what it used to be like when we lived on the ranch. You would’ve liked it there,’ she said, and she smiled at Charity.

Charity smiled happily back up at her.

‘There were green hills and cows everywhere you looked,’ Martha went on, turning back to the darkness, her voice taking on a dreamy tone. ‘And at certain times of the year, there were wild flowers all around you. There wasn’t a slagheap to be seen, not anywhere. And no black smoke driftin’ endlessly over the town, coverin’ everythin’ with dirt. When you stepped out on to the veranda that ran round the ranch house, you breathed clean air, and all you could hear was birds singin’, cattle lowin’, and the sounds of horses bein’ ridden and ranch hands goin’ about their daily chores. Never the endless beat of a mine pump and the dull thud of metal bangin’ on rock.’

‘Did you look after the cows when you lived on the ranch?’

Martha laughed. ‘Not me; that was a man’s job. The men worked real hard. But so did the women, only in a different way. Not only did we take care of our family, we also looked after all of the ranch hands. They had to be fed, too. And we made and mended all the clothin’, cooked the food, raised the children, looked after anyone who was sick.’

‘But you mend the clothes now, and when that piece of rock fell from the mine roof and hit Sam on the head, you looked after him till he was better.’

‘You’re right; I do a lot of that now, too. But the ranch was a much nicer place to do it in. And we women had ranchin’ skills, too. We knew how to fire a gun, use a brandin’ iron, and herd cattle or sheep to pasture. It was a good life. And Joe thought that, too, even though he was only knee high to a grasshopper when we left. Not Sam, though. That was never gonna be the life for Sam.’

‘Why did you leave?’

‘I met Hiram, didn’t I? He was passin’ through the nearby town, lookin’ for work. Oh, you should’ve seen him, Charity, before life had been knocked out of him! He was a real good-lookin’ man with a ready laugh, and he had a carin’ way about him which made a woman melt. Everyone liked him. All the unwed girls set their caps at him, but it was me he turned to. Believe it or not, folk used to think me pretty.’ She reached up and tucked her hair more firmly under her day bonnet.

Charity smiled up at her. ‘You’re pretty now.’

Martha put her hand to her cheek and gave a short laugh. ‘I think not. But it was different then, and we were wed. He needed a job so he came to live and work on the family ranch. But he was a restless dreamer, and he was like a fish out of water there. He just didn’t take to tendin’ animals, growin’ crops and ridin’ the range all day.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t really know. Maybe there wasn’t enough excitement in it, always bein’ with the same few people every day, and doin’ the same thing year after year. Whatever it was, the life slowly drained out of him. The day he heard that gold had been found in the river and hills around here, he came to life again, and I wasn’t the least bit surprised when he said he was gonna go prospectin’. He told the boys and me we could go with him or stay behind. I packed our bags that night and so did they, and we went with him.’

‘But if you liked the ranch, why didn’t you stay there?’

‘One day you’ll fall for someone, and then you’ll understand,’ Martha told her with a wry smile. ‘And remember, I’d no idea I’d end up in a godforsaken place like this. If I had known … and if Hiram had known where it’d end … well, I reckon things might’ve been very different.’ She shifted her weight to the other foot. ‘Anyway, like most of those chasin’ the yellow stuff, he didn’t find it, and finally I made him see that he had to go down the mines to feed his family. And the way it’s turned out, he’s doin’ the same thing this year as he did last year. Just what he was tryin’ to escape from when he left the ranch.’

‘Sam likes it here.’

‘But Hiram’s not Sam, for all they’re alike in many a way. And anyway, I’m not sure how true that is of Sam these days. Sam likes livin’ in a town, that’s for sure, but bein’ a miner’s not turnin’ out the way he thought it’d be. Things in the mine have changed for the worse since he started, and it’s gotten to be a real hard life now. Sam doesn’t smile that much these days. As for Hiram, he hates each day. Many a man would’ve left their family by now and struck out on their own, but not Hiram. He’s a better man than many; I’ll say that for him.’

‘Why don’t you go back to the ranch then?’

‘Too much time’s passed. My brothers and their families have been runnin’ it for years, and we lost contact long ago. If we just turned up, we’d need rooms they probably don’t have, and we’d be extra mouths to feed that hadn’t earned the food put into them. It’s too late to go back. And anyway, Sam likes Carter, and whatever Hiram thinks of minin’, at least he’s on the edge of a town, and I reckon that’s still where he’d rather be than on a ranch.’

‘You could ask him, maybe.’

‘No point. I know the answer. We could’ve found a good patch of land near water years ago, staked a claim and become homesteaders. You can stake a hundred and sixty acres under the law. I once suggested that, but Sam and Hiram wouldn’t hear of it. Joe wanted to, though.’ She paused. ‘I don’t know why I’m tellin’ you all this – you’re only ten. Maybe it’s that I’m feelin’ a mite bit lonely. Folk around here aren’t as friendly as they used to be; in fact, some have gotten downright rude. Or maybe it’s ’cos you’re not family that I can say to you what I couldn’t say to the family.’

Joe’s parting words leapt into Martha’s head, reverberating loud and clear in the still of the night, just as if he were standing next to her.

‘Remember your promise,’ he had said as he was leaving. ‘This family’s all that Charity’s got. The whites won’t accept her as one of them ’cos she looks Chinese, and the Chinese won’t accept her ’cos she’s been brought up American. I’m trustin’ you to do your best for her while I’m gone. Make sure she knows she belongs.’

Her conscience pricked her sharply.

‘I know you’re not family, Charity,’ she added quietly, ‘but you come pretty close.’

And she fell silent. A cloak of darkness slowly fell upon the earth again as coal-grey clouds once more curled themselves around the face of the moon.

Standing quietly at Martha’s side, Charity stared ahead with her. ‘I still don’t know what we’re lookin’ at,’ she said after several minutes.

‘I don’t know about you, Charity gal, but I’m lookin’ ahead at year after year of this, and I feel like I’m bein’ buried alive.’