His Sins Preview I

Part I Alexander and Janet

Chapter I

Alexander sat, sullen and silent, a brooding scowl etched on the forehead of his young face. It gave him the appearance of having aged prematurely. His icy hands circled the mug of steaming sweet tea while he watched from beneath hooded eyelids. Seething with anger, he saw his father double over in a bout of uncontrollable coughing, the phlegm heavy in the older man's congested chest. After the spasm had passed, his father sat up and wipping the beads of sweat from his face with the back of his coal-blackened hand, he reached for his own mug of the hot sweet black tea. Swallowing the tea in great, hurried gulps, fearful of being late for his shift in the pit, he began another bout of strangled coughing. Looking away, Alexander was no longer able to watch his father.

At only thirty-eight years of age, his father gave the appearance of being a much older man, as did most of the men who spent their lives in the mine. 'The mine will kill him,' Alexander thought bitterly, unable to hide the anger he felt at his father's acceptance of what life had dealt him, 'but it'll not be getting me.'

Turning to face his father, his thoughts focused, as they were every morning, on how much he hated going down into the pit. 'Why dinna he try to better himself and make life better for the family? He dinna care 'bout leaving the mine but I'll not stay a minute longer than I've got to,' Alexander vowed under his breath while his father continued to gasp for air.

"Give over with you and help your Da," his mother cuffed him on the side of the head. Her shrill voice caused him to purse his lips tightly together knowing that whatever he would answer in response would only earn him another cuff for his effort.

"There's naught wrong with me, Elsa. We'd best be leaving now, lad." He picked up his meal bucket, the tally lamp and flask of pit oi. Alexander followed him with the ricketty and the black pwder.

"You help your Da now," his mother's harsh voice followed him into the cold morning air. "He don't need no lazy lump of a son when he's feelin' poorly."

By the time they reached the entrance to the mine, having pedalled on their bicyles in the freezing rain, Alexander's clothes were as damp as his spirits. 'No point in worrying none about it with water running in all of the seams too,' he thought bitterly. Alexander was never dry enough, warm enough or full enough. It was five a.m. and the night was still as black as he knew the inside of the coal mine would be at the bottom of the shaft.

No one spoke as the miners were lowered three thousand feet into the bowels of the earth. Each one silent, and each one dreading the thought of yet another gruelling day, knowing that this day could be their last.

Alexander worked with his father in their own area of the mine and today they were working in a coal seam that was only twenty inches in depth. Alexander crept along behind his father holding the tally lamp as high as possible, it being the only means of lighting their way. He could hear one of the mine's ponies snorting in the distance in their underground stable. Alexander knew that the lives of the ponies were no better than his or his father's, or any of the other miners that worked each day in the mines.

"The ricketty, lad," his father reached behind him and Alexander handed the older man the small hand drill so he could make holes in the coal seam which he would then fill with explosives and a long fuse. "The black powder now, lad."

When the explosives were set, Alexander backed quickly out of the seam, closely followed by his father. Alexander always said a thankful prayer that his father always knew exactly how much black powder to put into each drilled hole. He didn't want his life shortened before he could get out of this black hell-hole.

He had plans and, unlike his father, they didn't include spending the rest of his life under the ground breathing in coal dust until his skin turned gray and coughing up his insides by the time he was thirty-five. He was only eighteen and he'd already been down in the mine for four years. 'Four years too long,' Alexander often thought as he worked silently beside his father beneath the unforgiving earth.

Each time they heard the series of explosions go off, they crawled back into the seams with their picks. It was Alexander's job to load the tubs with the coal and push it along the underground rail. By the time he had pushed it to the end of the haulage line and placed their identifying pin in the tub, the sweat was running down the inside of his already damp shirt. He retrieved an empty tub and brought it back to the opening of the seam. By the time he returned to where his father was chipping at the coal with his pick, Akexander had cooled off and was shivering again. He constantly alternated between freezing cold or drippiing sweat. He wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand and renewed his deep hatred for the mine.