Katerina's Wish (9 page)

“I'm good with my hands. I might find some odd jobs,” Mark said. “I'm sure they'll take us back once fall comes and the demand for coal goes up again.”

“If we can make it through to fall,” Karel said.

“We'll help you, Karel, won't we, Papa,” Holena said. “We have the garden, and money from washing clothes.”

“Of course we will,” Papa said, patting Holena's hair. “We are family now, aren't we? That garden will be a big help.”

“Well, we will cross that bridge when it comes. No point worrying,” Momma said, but I could see she was. If the bachelors in camp were laid off, they wouldn't be paying us to do their laundry anymore, and it would be some time yet before the garden produced any food. Of course we had to help Old Jan's family, but how would we do it? I understood why the lines of worry across Momma's forehead never quite went away anymore.

“What we need,” Old Jan said, “is something to see us through the good times and the bad. Something to fall back on.”

Papa nodded.

“In the Old Country, I remember we had a cow,” Mark said. He glanced in my direction and gave a little grin. “She grazed up on the commons and we had milk, whether we had money or not.”

“Can we get a cow, Papa?” Aneshka asked.

“Where would we keep a cow?” Momma said.

“Yes, a cow is much too big, but I have something smaller in mind that might help,” Old Jan said.

“If it's small, it's not going to be much help,” Aneshka said. “I want a cow.”

“Well, I don't know.” Old Jan pushed away his empty plate and leaned back in his chair. “Sometimes you have to start with small things to get the big things you really want. Do you know the story of the three brothers who inherited their father's farm?”

“Tell us,” Aneshka said, bouncing in her chair and clapping her hands.

“Please tell us,” Holena added more politely.

“The oldest son took the biggest and best share, and the second son took almost all the rest. For the youngest son all that was left was a good, sturdy rope. Now, a rope, that is not much, is it?”

“No, his brothers should have given him more,” Holena said.

“Perhaps. So all he had was one small thing when he set out to make his way in the world. When he came to a forest he made snares from some of that rope, and he caught a squirrel and a hare.”

“What did he want those for?” Holena asked.

“Don't interrupt,” Aneshka said.

“He put the squirrel and the hare in his basket and continued on until he came to a lake. Beside the lake was a cave and in the cave was a bear, snoring away.

“The boy sat down beside the lake to make a bigger snare to catch the bear, but before he finished, a water sprite that lived in the lake saw him. It was just a small sprite, and very curious, so it rose to the surface and said to the boy, ‘What are you doing with that rope?'

“Well, the boy was a clever lad, so he said, ‘I plan to tie up the lake so no one can get out.'

“The sprite dropped to the bottom of the lake and told the king of the sprites what he had heard.

“‘Go back up and challenge the boy to a race. When he is tired from running, catch him and drag him into the deep water, and we will be rid of him,' said the king.

“So the little sprite rose to the surface again and challenged the boy to a race.

“‘I can't right now,' the boy said, still shaping his snare. ‘But
my younger brother will race you, though he's very small.'

“The sprite accepted the challenge. So the boy let the squirrel out of his bag and the creature zipped away so quickly it was halfway around the lake before the sprite started. Of course, it won. When the sprite told the king what had happened, the king sent him back to try again.

“‘I can't. I'm still too busy, but you can race my other brother,' the boy said.

“The sprite agreed, and the boy set the hare loose. Well, what do you know, that hare was even faster than the squirrel had been.”

“And the sprite lost again!” Aneshka said with a delighted squeal.

“Yes. So when the sprite returned to the king, it was clear that racing wasn't going to work.

“‘Go back up and tell the boy you will wrestle him, and when you have a good grip on him, drag him into the lake and we'll be rid of him for good.'

“So the sprite returned to the surface, and he challenged the boy to a wrestling match.

“‘Oh, I am much too busy,' said the boy, ‘but my old grandfather is sleeping in that cave, and if you'll wake him up, he might be willing to wrestle with you.'

“‘If I win,' said the sprite, ‘will you leave our lake alone and not tie it up?'

“‘Certainly,' agreed the boy. So the sprite went into the dark cave and saw the sleeping figure.

“‘Grandfather, come wrestle with me,' he said, but the figure went on sleeping.

“‘Come on, old man,' the little sprite said impatiently, and he slapped the bear hard on the nose.

“Well, that bear came awake with a huge growl and swatted the little sprite so hard he flew backward and landed with a big splash in the middle of the lake. When the king saw that, he knew he had to do something to protect the lake from such a strong, clever, fast family. So he rose to the surface and asked the boy, ‘What do you want to leave our lake alone?'

“‘Just enough of your gold to fill my hat,' the boy answered.

“‘Agreed,' said the king. And while he was at the bottom of the lake gathering the gold, the boy dug a pit in the ground and cut a hole in the top of his hat. So when the king poured his coins into the boy's hat, he kept filling and filling, and the hat did not fill until the boy had nearly all the sprite king's gold.

“And that is how, with nearly nothing, the boy ended up the richest of all the brothers,” Old Jan finished.

“We have nearly nothing—maybe we are going to be rich too,” Aneshka said, and giggled.

Momma gave her a reproachful look, but Old Jan smiled. “As I said, I have a small thing that may help.”

“What is this ‘small thing' you have?” Momma asked, her voice skeptical.

“Well,” Old Jan said quietly, looking at me, “they are not really mine. But maybe Trina would like to tell this story.”

All around the table eyes turned to me. I looked desperately at Old Jan and he gave me an encouraging smile, but nothing more. I was on my own from here; he had done all he planned to do. I had made the choice to take the money and buy the chickens, and I was going to have to tell my parents on my own. I swallowed hard and spoke up.

“I bought chickens,” I said simply.

“You what?” Momma said.

“Chickens?” Papa said.

I nodded and hurried to explain everything before I lost my courage. When I finished, there was silence at the table for a long moment. I kept my eyes on my empty plate, not daring to look at my parents.

“Well, where are they?” Papa said at last.

Mark rose from the table and returned a moment later with the crate. He set it on the floor and everyone gathered around as he lifted off the lid.

All of a sudden, Papa began to laugh.

Momma frowned at him. “What is the matter with you?” she said, but he only laughed harder. It was a long moment before the laughter quieted enough for him to speak.

“You remember, Trina, when your sisters made wishes and you would not?”

“I wished for plum dumplings,” Aneshka said.

“And I wished for hair ribbons,” Holena said.

Papa nodded, still chuckling, “And Trina wouldn't wish, but I did, remember? I said I'd wish for a farm. And here it is—a garden and livestock of our very own. Our little farm here in America. You should have wished, Trina, but since you wouldn't, it looks like I got the third wish instead!”

I GAPED AT
my father in disbelief. Had my wish come true, only to leave us stuck in the mining camp?

“You and your foolish nonsense,” Momma snapped at Papa. Then she turned to me. “What were you thinking, Trina? Chickens? Where on earth are we going to keep them?”

“I thought we could keep them behind the house,” I said. “They will be old enough to start laying eggs in a few weeks. I just wanted to help us save money to get our farm,” I said.

“And just how are we supposed to fence or house them?”

“I hadn't thought of that,” I admitted. The truth was, I hadn't really thought of any of it.

“There is always scrap wood in the mine dump,” Mark said, surprising everyone. “We could probably dig up enough to make a chicken coop.”

“And when will you have time for that?” Momma asked. “You boys work too hard now as it is.”

“But we are going to need the extra food if we get laid off
at the mine,” Mark pointed out. “I think it's a lucky thing that Trina found that farm and got these chickens.” He smiled at me, and I blushed so suddenly I could not hide it. All I could do was smile back, grateful for his support. Then I caught my mother's eye and my smile quickly faded.

“I know I shouldn't have spent the money without permission, Momma. But please let me try. If it doesn't work out, we could still butcher and eat the se chickens. I got all three for less than a whole chicken from Mr. Johnson's store.”

Momma was watching the little hens scrabble and peck around the crate as Aneshka dropped bits of bread in to them. She sighed. “You do have an eye for a bargain, I suppose, but your head is so full of dreams. You get that from your father.”

“Can we keep them then?” Aneshka asked.

Momma looked to Papa for his decision.

“If you can house them and feed them, Trina, you can keep them,” Papa said.

I nodded. “They can eat kitchen scraps. And grasshoppers down by the creek.”

“But do not do such a thing again without permission,” Papa warned.

“I won't. I promise.”

“And the first time they start costing us money instead of saving it, they go in the pot,” Momma added.

That evening Aneshka and Holena herded the chickens around the small yard, but since we had no house for them, the chickens spent the night in the kitchen in their crate.

The next morning I woke to someone quietly calling my name through the open window. The rest of my family was still asleep, so I slipped outside to see Mark measuring out space and writing down his measurements on a scrap of wood.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. I'm getting started on your henhouse.” “So early?”

“I only have today off, and I'll have to sleep this afternoon before going back on the night shift tonight, so I thought I'd better get started. It shouldn't take long.”

“Really? I wouldn't know where to begin,” I admitted.

“Then you're lucky you have me,” he said, grinning. He looked like his old self, with his hair flopping over his forehead, and I couldn't help grinning back.

“So I am,” I said. “What are we doing first?”

He picked up a stick and scratched out a square on the ground. “This is where we will build it,” he said. “And here is what we'll need.” He took a scrap of newspaper from his pocket, on which he had written a list of materials.

“Can we really get all this from the mine dump?” It wasn't a long list, but it was more than I imagined we could get for free. As far as I could tell, the stingy mine owners wouldn't let anything go for free if they could charge us for it.

“Let's go find out,” Mark said.

“But—won't we get in trouble?”

Mark shook his head. “It's trash. No one will even notice. It all gets buried and forgotten under the mine tailings in a matter of days.”

My family was still asleep, so I set off with Mark, up the hill toward the mine.

The slanting rays of the rising sun softened and brightened the drab houses and dirt lanes of the camp, but they could do nothing to alter the ugliness of the mine. As we approached, the hoist and the gaping shaft stood out as starkly as ever,
surrounded by tangles of steel cable and grimy coal cars. I could never shake the sense of dread that came over me near the shaft. The thought of descending into the darkness, with all those tons of earth looming over me, made my insides knot. I stepped closer to Mark, glad for the warmth of his presence.

“Over there,” he said, pointing. An enormous pile of dirt and crushed rock trailed down the slope toward the creek. The pile was streaked gray, brown, and sulfur yellow from loads brought up from different levels of the mine, and the entire mass seemed to be creeping relentlessly down the slope. On the front edge of the pile, trash and debris had been dumped and was being swallowed up by the advance of the dirt and rock.

We climbed down the slope to inspect the tangled debris. Splintered beams and boards, frayed loops of rusting cable, broken gears, and empty liquor bottles lay scattered on the ground or sticking out of the loose tailings. The whole pile smelled of coal, engine grease, and rot. I couldn't help wrinkling my nose, but Mark was grinning cheerfully.