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 to fraternize 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 ham and 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.
“It’s called a pounding. Everyone brought a pound or two of something to help set up our kitchen. They even brought cleaning supplies. It was quite a kindness, as it saves us having to spend a great deal to stock up on staples in order to cook properly. Or clean, for that matter. One of the ladies gave us five pounds of soap she’d made.”
“Interesting.” He poured tea for himself and then looked at Susanna. “Tea?”
“Yes, please.” She took a chair at the table and wondered how much longer Gary would be.
“And your mother . . . she accepted these things graciously?”
“I don’t think she fully comprehended what was going on,” Susanna admitted. “However, the heat started getting to her, and she became rather faint. We needed to leave early to get her home, and Mrs. Payne suggested her gardener could bring Mother in a wheelbarrow.”
Her father nearly spilled the tea. “She what?”
Susanna smiled. “You heard me right. There was no carriage or wagon to bring her home in, so Mrs. Payne suggested the only thing she could. It perked Mother right up, and she walked back without difficulty.”
The edge of her father’s lips curled. “I’m sure she did.”
“Mr. Payne brought the food goods and soap just a little while ago. It really was the greatest kindness.”
Her father nodded. “I suppose a small town like this has its strange practices.”
Susanna heard her brother coming from the opposite side of the house. He had changed his clothes but hadn’t dressed for dinner as he might have in Topeka. He wore a button-down shirt without a starched collar and had simply tucked it into a pair of tan trousers. He wasn’t even wearing shoes.
This garnered a look of reproof from Father, who was dressed in a full suit with vest and tie. “We are hardly barbarians, to come to the table in such a state,” he declared.
“I figured you’d rather have me here than wait for me to properly dress,” Gary replied. “Besides, what’s the purpose in dressing for dinner here? We aren’t going to be entertaining the governor.”
A small lizard of some sort skittered across the tile floor, causing Gary to startle and do a little dance.
“That’s why we wear shoes,” Susanna interjected. “It could have been a snake.”
Gary scowled. “We didn’t have these problems in Topeka.”
Father’s face reddened, and Susanna feared there might be a fight between them. Ever since Father had lost his money, Gary had lost his respectful attitude.