Memories Of Another Day Part 40

She nodded.

"He ever say anything?"

"He was angry at first; then he calmed down. He still didn't like it, but he said it could have been worse. You could have been a Jew Commie or a n.i.g.g.e.r."

His laugh was bitter. "Would you be surprised to learn that he knows more about my new job than most of the union members?"

"He told me they were moving you out of the way because you didn't think they should call the strike. He also said if they hadn't gone out on strike they would have fired you outright, but they're afraid to rock the boat at this time. They feel getting rid of you would upset too many of the men you organized."

He shook his head. "Then they figured wrong. I found out tonight that n.o.body really gives a d.a.m.n.

Somebody really did a hatchet job on me. Everything I said got twisted out of shape and thrown into the rumor mill. Even about you and me. That I was selling them down the river because of you."

'They have to know you better than that."

'*I think Phil Murray does. But I doubt if any of the others share the same conviction."

'Tm sorry," she said. ''What are you going to do?"

"I honestly don't know," he said. "Murray wants me to wait. He says it will all get straightened out. But Fm not sure that I can wait the way he wants. I'm not used to sitting in an office not doing anything."

"Why don't you talk to Uncle Tom?" she asked. "I know from what he said that he respects you, even if he might not like you."

He looked at her. "I can't do that. I've been living on this side of the street so long there's no way I could cross over. Besides, if I did, then everything they're saying about me would be true."

She moved closer to him. "I love you. I don't like seeing you on the rack like this."

He didn't say anything, just looked at her.

"I know I said I would wait for you to call me," she said. "But I couldn't. I missed you too much. Daniel, I want to stay here with you."

He took a deep breath. "I would like that too. But it would only make things worse."

"Then what are we going to do?"

"Wait," he said. "The way Phil Murray told me. Maybe when this is over, things will be better."

"What if you can't wait the way he wants and decide to go away?" she asked.

"I'll make you a promise," he said. "If I should decide to go away, I'll take you with me."

He saw the tears jump into her eyes and pulled her to him. "Don't be silly," he said, kissing her cheek.

"I'm not being silly," she snuffled. "I'm just being happy." She looked up into his face. "You do love me, don't you?"

He smiled, teasing. "Don't get personal." ''Just a little?" she asked in a small voice. ''Not just a little," he laughed, kissing her on the mouth. "A lot."

He looked down at the calendar on his desk. Friday, May 28, 1937. The two weeks just past had dragged interminably. He had waited for the call that never came. Despite Murray's promise, McDonald had never called. Meanwhile, he felt the rising excitement swirling in the office around him. He knew plans were being made for the Memorial Day demonstration, but no one spoke to him or included him in the conversations about it. He found out more about the progress of the strike from the newspapers than he did in the office. He glanced at his watch. It was after five thirty.

He opened the door of his office and looked out. The big outer office was empty. He closed the door and went back to his desk. He reached for the telephone and placed a call to Phil Murray in Was.h.i.+ngton. Mr. Murray had gone to Pittsburgh and would not be back in the office until Monday. He tried Murray's home in Pittsburgh, but there was no answer.

He took the bottle of whiskey from his desk. It was almost empty. He held the bottle to his mouth and drained it. There wasn't enough to warrant a gla.s.s. Again he stared down at the calendar. Murray had asked him to wait until the end of the month. For all intents and purposes, this was the end of the month. A thought ran through his mind.

Monday was the thirty-first. Could it be that they were keeping him here, safely out of the way, until after the demonstrations on Sunday? That what Girdler had told Chris was right? They were afraid that he might rock the boat?

He wondered what would happen on Monday. Would Murray call and tell him regretfully that he couldn't work anything out? Or would they then feel he was safe enough to give him a real job? Either way, it didn't matter now. He spread his hands flat on the desk top and stared at them. Something had changed inside him, but nothing showed in his hands. They were still the same. Big, square, a workingman's hands. Not the hands of a man supposed to think or feel. And that was all he had ever been. Working hands. Moved and directed by someone else's brains and thoughts and desires.

A choking wave of anger rose inside him. He clenched his hands into fists and smashed them down on the desk. I^in rose sharply up through his arms. He held his fists up to his face and stared at them. His knuckles were white, and blood seeped through the broken skin. Slowly he unclenched them. Whatever it was he thought they were holding, it was time now for him to let go.

Time for him to leave, time for him to move on, time for him to discover what was going on in his own head. He had begun to open the desk drawer when a knock came at the door, **Mr. Huggins?" It was a girl's voice.

He went to the door and opened it. Nancy stood there, a wide-eyed look on her face, ''Yes?" he asked gruffly.

''I came back to get something from my desk," she said quickly. 'Then I heard a crash from your office. Are you all right?"

He nodded slowly. "I'm okay."

A faint relief came into her face. "I'll go, then. I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

'That's alhright, Nancy," he said. "Thank you for your concern."

She turned to leave. He stopped her. "Nancy."

She turned back. "Yes, Mr. Huggins?"

"Would you have time to type a letter for me?"

"Will it take long? I have a date tonight and have to get home to change."

*'It shouldn't take long," he said. ''But it's very important tome." "Okay. Give me a minute to get my steno book." He watched her walk toward her desk, then went back to his own desk and began to empty the drawers.

going to be a very different life for you. You can still change your mind. FU understand."

She smiled. 'Tm not letting you off that easily." She took another sip. ''This whiskey really is not that bad."

He laughed.

''Did you speak to Mrs. Torgersen?" she asked.

"Yes. She's already moved into the baby's room so we can have the other bedroom. She sounded very pleased that you were coming with me. She likes you."

"She's known me for a long time," she said. "How's the baby?"

A note of pride came into his voice. "She says he's just fine. Getting bigger. Gained almost a pound and is no trouble at all. Sleeps right through the night."

"Anxious to see him?"

He looked at her, then nodded. "Yes. Funny, I never thought of myself as a father. But when I held him and looked down at him and realized that I was part of making him, I felt I was going to Uve forever."

She held her gla.s.s toward him. "FU take a little bit more."

He covered the bottom of the gla.s.s. "What's it like outside?"

"Sunny and warm," she said.

"Good," he said. "At least the strikers are in luck. It's not easy to look confident with the rain p.i.s.sing in your face. The girl who typed my letter told me that her boss was very pleased. Paramount movie newsreel is coming out to cover the South Chicago demonstration. It'll be in six thousand theaters next Tuesday."

"I'm glad you won't be with them," she said. "At breakfast this morning, I heard Uncle Tom on the phone. He was talking to someone in the South Chicago police headquarters. He said he was expecting trouble at the mill, and he asked for a hundred and fifty policemen to help protect it. When he came back to the table, he was smiling and told my aunt that if the Commies came looking for trouble they were going to get more than they bargained for."

He stared at her. ''He's got almost a hundred men inside the gates. Why does he need the cops outside?"

''I don't know," she answered. ''I was too busy figuring out how to leave the house with my bags without their finding out."

''He's going to be disappointed," Daniel said. "The meeting is in a hall a few blocks away. They're not even going near the mill."

She didn't answer.

A thought flashed through his mind. "Your Uncle Tom seemed sure that they were going to be at the plant?"

She nodded.

He put down his drink. "I'd better get right over there to make sure they don't go anywhere near the mill."

"It's not your business anymore, Daniel," she said. "You resigned. Remember?"

"I remember Pittsburgh in 1919," he said. "A lot of men got hurt because n.o.body had the guts to talk sense to them."

"This is 1937," she said. "And it's not your fight anymore."

"Maybe it isn't," he said. "But I got a lot of those men out there today into the union, and I don't want it on my conscience if any of them get hurt."

She didn't answer.

"Give me the keys to the car," he said.

"Let go of it, Daniel," she said. "We're going to start a new life. You told me that yesterday."

"Chris. There's no way I can start a new life over the dead bodies of my friends. Not if I have a chance to prevent it. Give me the keys."

"I'll go with you," she said.

'*No. You wait here for me." "You said you would take me with you wherever you go." Her voice was steady. ''It starts here."

The streets in front of Sam's Place were crowded with cars and people, and there was no place that Dan could park the car. He stopped in the middle of the street and got out. ''You park the car in the next block and wait for me."

Chris's face was pale. She nodded.

Dan turned and made his way toward the meeting hall. It had turned unexpectedly hot, and the crowd overflowing the street seemed more like a group of people at a family outing than a serious group of strikers. Many of the men had brought their families to the meeting, and women and children were moving around in the crowd of s.h.i.+rt-sleeved men.

Daniel pushed his way through the crowd into the meeting hall. It was packed solid with people. On the small platform at the far end of the hall several men were sitting, while one man was at a lectern shouting.

"There is only one way to show the cops that they do not intimidate us, that Girdler is not the law. They must see that we, the people, the strikers, are strong enough, brave enough to look them in the face and spit in their eye!"

A roar of approval went up from the crowd.

The speaker looked down at a piece of paper in his hand. "Be it resolved that we, the members of the Steel workers Union, Local , condemn the arbitrary and oppressive tactics of the Chicago Police Department in their attempts to frighten and intimidate the workers from exercising their consitutional right to free speech and strike for a better way of American life. All in favor say 'Aye.' "

The roar of Ayes deafened the ears.

"Let's show 'em now!" a voice yelled from the crowd.

*'Yeah," another voice shouted. ''Let 'em see what a real picket line is. Not just ten men but a thousand!"

Daniel made his way to the platform just as the hall rang with approval for the suggestion. He pushed the speaker away from the lectern. ''Hold it!" he yelled at the crowd. "Hold it!"

The meeting was still in a turmoil. The speaker turned to Daniel. "Get out of here, Huggins. We don't want you here," he said in a voice that reached only to Daniel.

"You're Davis," Daniel said. "You've got to Usten to me. I found out there are a hundred and fifty cops out there spoiling for trouble. You keep the meeting here. If they get outside in front of the mill, a lot of people are going to be hurt. Not only men, but women and children too."

"Workers have a right to express themselves," Davis said.

"Their leaders have a responsibility to see that they don't get hurt. In 1919 I saw what happened when leaders abdicated that responsibility. It can happen here."

"No," Davis said. "There are too many of us. Besides, the cops wouldn't dare try anything with the newsreel cameras out there. That's why we arranged to get them here."

"Cameras don't stop bullets," Daniel said. He turned back to the crowd. "Brothers!" he shouted. "You know me. Many of you were brought into this union with me. More than anyone else I want to win this strike. But we're not going to win it by demonstrating against the Chicago police. We're going to win it by closing down production at the mills, by getting the rest of the workers to join us. Let us turn our efforts here to that end, to find ways and means of persuading our brothers that our battle is their battle. Here, in the union hall, is where the battle will be won. Not out there in the fields in front of the mill."

A sarcastic voice shouted up from the crowd. "We know you, Big Dan. We know how you sold us out for a piece of Girdler p.u.s.s.y. We know you didn't want us to strike."

'That's not true!" Daniel shouted.

*'If it's not true," another voice shouted, ''then join us. Don't fight us."

Daniel looked down at the suddenly silent hall. "I'll join you," he said. "But only the men will go. Make sure that your women and children don't follow us."

A roar came from the crowd. Two young men leaped on the platform and, picking up the American flags, turned and started up the aisle.

Daniel looked at Davis. "You've got to help me, man. Let's try to stop them at least a block from the mill." He didn't wait for an answer but leaped from the platform and marched up the aisle between the two flag bearers.

The sun outside had turned bright and hot. Daniel tore off his jacket and held it over his arm.

"Across the field," a voice shouted. "The streets are blocked by the police."

Slowly, purposefully, they began walking toward the plant, about a mile across the open field. Daniel turned and looked behind him. Men were streaming behind them, in an unorganized, shapeless form. Despite Daniel's warning, women and children had joined them. There was an air of almost childlike gaiety in the crowd, more like people going to a Sunday-school picnic than a picket line.

"Get rid of the women and children!" he shouted back at them. His voice was lost in the noise. A hand pulled at his arm. He turned.

"Big Dan." Sandy was next to him with Davis. "I knew you'd show up."