The Second-Story Man | Page 5

hell in the snapping of a finger. And they don't treat them fair . . . they hush things up. There are things you wouldn't believe if I told them to you.
MRS. AUSTIN. Tell them.
JIM. I've seen a man there get caught in one of the cranes. They stopped the machinery, but they couldn't get him out. They'd have had to take the crane apart, and that would have cost several days, and it was rush time, and the man was only a poor Hunkie, and there was no one to know or care. So they started up the crane, and cut his leg off.
MRS. AUSTIN. Oh, horrible!
JIM. It's the sort of thing you couldn't believe unless you saw it. But I saw it. I didn't care, though. I was a fool. And then my time came.
MRS. AUSTIN. How do you mean?
JIM. A blast furnace blew out, and a piece of slag hit me here, where you see that patch. If it wasn't for the patch you'd see something that would make you sick. It was a pain you couldn't tell about . . . it was a couple of days before I knew where I was. And the first thing when I came to my senses . . . in the hospital, it was . . . there was a lawyer chap with a paper waiting for me.
MRS. AUSTIN. [In agitation.] A lawyer?
JIM. Yes, ma'am. Company representative, you know. And I was to sign the paper . . . it was a receipt for the hospital expenses . . . the operation and all that . . . you see they had to take out what was left of my eye. And of course I couldn't see . . . I had to sign where he told me to. And when I got well, I found they had trapped me into signing a release.
MRS. AUSTIN. A release?
JIM. I had accepted the hospital expenses as a release for all the company owed me. And I couldn't get any damages . . . and my eye was gone, and all the weeks without any wages.
MRS. AUSTIN. My God!
JIM. And they turned me out so weak I could hardly walk; and . . .
MRS. AUSTIN. [Greatly excited.] Who was this man?
JIM. Which?
MRS. AUSTIN. This lawyer?
JIM. I never heard his name. He was a young fellow . . . handsome . . . smooth- faced . . .
MRS. AUSTIN. [Whispering.] Oh!
JIM. Ah, they don't mind it . . . they're smooth. They do that all the time. It's what they get their pay for.
MRS. AUSTIN. [Covering her face with her hands.] Oh, stop!
JIM. What's the matter?
MRS. AUSTIN. [Looking up with white face.] Nothing. Go on.
JIM. It was two months before I could work at all. And the rent came due, and they turned us out . . . it was winter-time, and my wife caught a cold, and it turned to pneumonia, and she died. That's all of that.
MRS. AUSTIN. Go on.
JIM. And then, you see, the panic came . . . and the mills shut down . . . sudden as that. The lawyer told me the company would see I always had a job, but that was only to get me to sign.
MRS. AUSTIN. [Feverishly.] Did you try him?
JIM. I went to the office and tried; but they wouldn't even let me see him.
MRS. AUSTIN. I see. And then?
JIM. Then I went out to look for work. I had the two babies, you know . . . and God only knows how I loved those babies. I said I'd fight and win out for their sakes. But Amy . . . she was the little one . . . she never had been very strong. When you're a poor man, you can't get the best food, even if you know what it is. It ain't fit milk they sell for the children in this city; and the baby died . . . I never knew what was the matter exactly. And there was only one left . . . and me tramping the streets all day looking for a job. How was I to take care of him, lady? How could I have helped it? [His voice is breaking with emotion.] And oh, ma'am, he was the loveliest little fellow . . . with hair like gold. And so well and strong.
MRS. AUSTIN. [Whispering.] What happened to him?
JIM. A street car killed him.
MRS. AUSTIN. Oh!
JIM. Run over his chest, ma'am. I came home at night, and they told me, and I near went out of my mind. Can you think what it was to see him . . . with his eyes starting out of his head like, and his beautiful little body all mashed flat . . .
MRS. AUSTIN. [Wildly.]