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The siren was louder and more full of anguish than the greatest whistle of the locomotive:
it moaned and echoed in the hills causing some who heard it to put their hands across
their ears. At the same time into the yard behind the station came a convoy of wagons. Each wagon was drawn by two horses, though of course these people of Dentonsville, even though they were almost all from the 'Men Apart' and so had traveled somewhat beyond the confines of their former town had never seen a horse in their lives before. Flags flew on each wagon and there were ribbons on the horses' bridles. Though the drivers were all women, the wagons mostly contained men who whooped and cheered and acted as boisterously as if they were on an outing. Some of the men carried guns, which they fired in the air. 'Looks like you're maybe going to get your war after all, Sister,' said Ursus. Yet this had more the appearance of a festive gathering. The men descended from the wagons and some, also wearing green arm-bands, took up positions by the train. Still others, older men, better dressed and wearing red arm-bands, climbed in to inspect the contents of the wagons. When one of these entered Carl's wagon he tried to shake his hand and express his friendship, but the man showed no interest in that. 'Sit down, you! ' He roughly pushed him down. 'Now you women here get down one end of this car and you men down the other. We need to make a count.' And after they had counted them three times over he said, 'Now, we need you women to get out and stand outside. The men stay here.' Since the men with the red arm-bands were clearly possessors of the local authority the people had no difficulty in complying and the women were soon were grouped outside the train while the men crowded at the entrances to the cars. 'Quiet you people, quiet!' A authoritative, though not particularly menacing voice was heard, speaking through a megaphone. The individual was standing, rather precariously on the Station roof. He wore a red arm-band and had a white shirt with a waistcoat and rather new looking pants. He was an oldish man with sandy, thinning hair. 'This is Mr. O'Grady speaking and I want you all to listen to me good! If you do there'll be no trouble but if you don't , well…these men here –see 'em wearing the green? These're our Marshals. They're the law in these parts and they know the ways to make a man feel bad if he don't do what he's told. You women there, shut up, will you?' One of the Marshals pointed rather threateningly at the errant group of women which was enough to still them, though he had made no move to approach them. O'Grady coughed loudly into the microphone then wiped his brow with a kerchief. He consulted a piece of paper. 'Well, first of all I don't know where you've come from, and it doesn't really matter because here is where you are now and here is where you're going to stay. Now I'm supposed to say we're glad to see you. And so I'm sayin' it. And next I'm also supposed to say that we're expecting you to work, and so I'm saying that too. And that's really all I have to say, except you're all welcome to Granite Gorge, as I say, provided you do as your told.' There was a brief pause as O'Grady, coughing again, appeared to consult with someone who was shouting at him from down below. Finally he said, 'Now the first thing we have to do is get you ladies settled. Miss Muriel's in charge of you all. So what they want you to is to come into the station here and get checked out then do is get in them wagons over there and they'll take you to where you're going. And let's be quick about it!' As O'Grady disappeared from the roof, some of the Marshals formed up in two lines at the entrance to the station house. Then a small number of females emerged from the building and, without raising their voices or using any violence, began encouraging the Dentonsville women to form a line at the door. The women entered the station house one at a time and later emerged, some appearing quite cheerful and excited, on the other side crossing the station yard, being directed to the wagons. As each wagon filled it set off, returning later empty and since there were only six wagons and over four hundred women the process took a long time and eventually about half of the women had to be led away on foot. All this time, the men were confined to the railroad cars which grew hot and unpleasant while Mr. O'Grady stalked up and down the train, frowning. Finally, when the women were all gone the siren blew again. 'Now then, you men,' said O'Grady with some excitement through the megaphone, not troubling to get back on the roof. 'Behave yourselves or there'll be trouble.' Apparently expecting trouble the Marshals jumped into the cars and began to forcibly eject the men inside, feeling free to use clubs, fists and boots. All this was accompanied by plenty of cheering and more guns fired into the air. The men were pushed roughly into lines leading to a table that had been sat up outside the station where a someone sat taking details and then inside the station house, Few resisted their ill-treatment in any way. Being 'Men Apart' this was the sort of thing they were used to receiving from the Sheriff and his men and they had long since learned that resistance was futile under these circumstances. For Carl, however the experience was different. As he saw his people being ill-treated in this way he became indignant but when it became apparent that he was to be treated like all the rest and he was bundled off the train he was thoroughly confused. 'Name? Age? Date of birth? Father's name? Mother's name? Occupation?' The name of the man who sat at the table outside the station was Vincent and he was, if you like, the Chief Accountant at Granite Gorge, though he had not that formal title. People just knew him as one of Mr. O'Grady's assistants. He was a wiry man with large, sad eyes a long face and a thin face. 'Occupation? Are you listening to me? We haven't got all day, you know!' 'Pastor Bluemud said that my people would be treated well,' mumbled Carl, attempting to complain, 'And yet... ' 'Mr. O'Grady, I'm having trouble with this one, ' yelled Vincent. 'It's a problem, is it?' said O'Grady, coming up, laying a hand on Carl's back. 'What's your name, son?' 'Carl Relyt. But Pastor Bluemud said... ' 'Mr. Bluemud? Oh, don't you worry about him at all. He can take care of himself. Now, what d'you need to know, Vincent?' O'Grady consulted the check sheet Vincent was filling out. 'Let's see, name, age date-of-birth, father's name, mother's name... God damn it if I understand why they need to know all this stuff! Occupation! What's you're occupation, son? What did you used to do in that nice little town you came from? What's that? Speak up, son. Shopkeeper? Seems like you got a bit of competition, then, don't it, Vincent.' O'Grady laughed cheerfully and Vincent laughed obsequiously but didn't look amused. 'Well, I'm afraid we don't have any vacancies for them here son, so you'll have to become a miner like all the rest. Now, son. Do as you're asked and you'll get no problems from the likes of me? O.K?' Carl said nothing. 'Seems like he's quieted down now Vincent. Just let me know if he's any more trouble and I'll break his head.' 'Now, you,' said Vincent as O'Grady stumped off. 'Let's get this over with. Ever been in gainful employment before? Don't bother to answer that. The answer's no as far as I'm concerned. Here, take this.' He gave Carl a number plastic disc on a chain. 'Put that round your neck and keep it there at all times. Loose it, you don't get paid. You're on the second shift with all the rest. Mr. Johnson's your foreman. He'll show you where to sleep. How much money you got?' 'Money is illegal... ' Carl stammered. 'Not in Granite Gorge it isn't. You're going to need some. You have to pay me in advance for your board and lodging, plus your working clothes, plus I need a deposit for breakages. If you've no money, how are you going to live?' 'I don't know.' Vincent rolled his eyes. 'And you a shopkeeper? By getting a loan, stupid! Don't worry, we've all got one, even me. Two hundred and forty dollars. It'll come out of your pay weekly, with interest, of course. Just put your mark here. Hey, this one can write! Next!' The instant he signed the book, a Marshal grabbed Carl by his shirt and dragged him over to the Station building. 'Next one coming up, Charlotte!' he shouted, pushing Carl through the door. 'Strip!' said the buxom young nurse. 'God you people stink! You'd think I'd be used to it by now' She stuffed a thermometer in his mouth and took his pulse and blood pressure. 'Well, you're still alive. Now, in you go!' She pushed him into a cubicle. Jets of water shot out at him, first cold then stinging hot. Then the walls began to spin and lashing whips reached out to scrub him. Finally a torrent of water washed away the foam and he stood dripping. 'Here cover yourself up,' said the nurse, handing him a towel and pulling him out.' Get a move on, we haven't got all day. ' She jabbed a needle in his arm then indicated piles of clothing lying on a table. 'Pick your work clothes out of them. Then get dressed and go out. Take your old stuff with you.' She opened the back door. 'Jamie, next one's coming... Oh, excuse me, miss.' Carl was almost dressed when another woman enter through the back and a vision stood before him. Never did he dream that he would see a female Pastor. He blushed, was embarrassed and felt overawed. 'Hello, Charlotte, how's it going? How are these men?' 'Well, enough, Miss Elizabeth.' The nurse also seemed embarrassed that she was here. 'They're healthy, are they?' 'Yes, miss, yes, they seem to be that.' The nurse completely stopped her work. A Marshal looked round the door then , seeing who was inside shut it again quickly. 'Who's this one? What's your name?' 'Er... Carl.' 'Welcome to Granite Gorge, Mr. Carl.' Elizabeth smiled at him then and indicated he should leave which he did though, as he went, he tried to look behind him at the vision he had seen, which was incomprehensible. |
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