| III.2.092 |
|
|
On the east bank of the Granite River the land was thickly wooded. Gradually at first, then
steeply, it climbed towards the ridge. At the base of the steep slope, at a point almost
opposite the Bluemud house there was an old cottage, one of about twenty that Bluemud's
people had built when they first began their activities in the area. It had only been briefly
occupied then before a fire had damaged it and subsequently it had been abandoned. | By December of 2477 Carl's earnings from the activities of the hunters were sufficient that he could afford to pay for workers to rebuild this place for him. Once it was ready he moved in and from that point onwards he ceased any pretence of being a miner. He had been a regular visitor at the O'Grady home for some time. He usually visited at least once a week for his evening meal and it was in this manner that he had been able to exert great influence over O'Grady. As the Chief Foreman had admitted, 'I'm fine when it comes to a "situation". It's when I have to stop and think, that's when I need you, young Carl.' O'Grady's wife, Edna, was a long suffering woman and a good cook. Carl looked forward to her meals and she in turn regarded him as a charming man and dreamt of him as her son. 'You need a wife,' was Edna's opinion and O'Grady had agreed. Carl had mixed feelings about this. A wife would enable him to obtain food from the village and be completely independent of the barracks. On the other hand he hated the idea of being bound to any woman at this point. It was not that he was married already; neither the O'Gradys, or any of the other people in the valley, would consider that a man's bonds to a wife in a town he had involuntarily left forever were sacred. The truth was that Carl, though he hardly dared admit it even to himself, remained obsessed with thoughts of Elizabeth, though he was under no illusions that his taking up with Elizabeth was an event that was likely to occur. However, to keep O'Grady happy, he had agreed to look around the village to see what was available and, with the old man's written permission in hand, had gone to visit Muriel. Muriel had remained resistant to all Carl's overtures to improve the lot of the women in the village by trading for the meat the hunters brought in. However, she had also kept her mouth shut as to what was going on and Carl understood that this was only partly because of the repeated gifts that he had sent her. She understood that food remained very short in the valley and that the additional supply meant more to go around for everyone in the long run. Still, she was as unhappy as ever. 'Come to find yourself a bit of cunt, have you, Foreman Relyt?' she had sneered. 'Can't say as I blame you. Every man deserves a little bit now and then. Especially one in your position.' However none of the women Muriel had proposed to Carl as potential wives had the slightest appeal to him and he had summarily rejected each one of them. 'Choosy, aren't you?' Muriel had said. 'It looks as if you'll have to do without a wife, my friend.' 'How can I get food at my cottage without a woman?' Carl had asked. 'You can't!' Muriel had said joyfully. 'That's the rules. You may have all the meat you need but if you want bread you'll have to get it at the barracks with all the rest. I don't care, anyway. There's not enough bread to go around. I've just had to cut the men's food back for the winter.' This news had made Carl very angry. It was at a time before Bluemud had delivered his decree yet still the production quotas were up and the men were working flat out. He was having great difficulty keeping all the hunters out of the mine. But Muriel was not interested in his problems. 'You look after your people and I'll look after mine,' she had said. He had followed her to her house arguing 'show me why you have to do this. I'm sure it isn't necessary. I'm sure something can be done. Let me see your records.' 'I will not' she had shouted at him. 'I'll show you as many wives as you want but books and records are for Miss Elizabeth's eyes only. You've got no business with them.' At Muriel's house Ruth had greeted them. She appeared healthier and more robust than before which he attributed to the stream of presents he had been sending. 'There's at least one of your people that I've helped,' he had said bitterly as Ruth fetched herbal tea and eggs. Muriel had just shrugged. Then, a solution to his problem had occurred to Carl. 'Is it true that Ruth was sterilized?' he had asked. 'Who told you that?' Muriel's face had gone red. 'You shouldn't listen to everything people say. They say terrible things and blame me for everything that happens. They think I look after Ruth while I let others starve.' 'And why should a dumb, useless, girl be fed more than others?' 'She isn't useless! She's a good worker and she's smart!' 'But she'll never produce children for our valley.' 'Well, I feed her because she's mine,' Muriel had said angrily. 'I asked,' Carl had said calmly, ' because if it were true I could take Ruth not as my wife but as my housekeeper. I prefer not to take a wife in any case but I would promise you to look after her always as if she were my wife.' Muriel had readily agreed to this arrangement and it meant a great deal to her that not only was her daughters' future protected but that no longer would people whisper about her concerning this subject behind her back. But Carl did not press her for further favors at that time. |
|---|
|
|
