Flash Fiction Take 1

Silver Bells

‘Hey Jimmy; where’s Sam at?’, the boys called after me, their shadows the long sad forms that filled the narrow leafiness of the Silver Valley this time of year. ‘He’s on nights this week’, I answered dutifully, though I should have ignored them; I knew they wondered about us. I’d gotten the letter late last week- 4 years tuition in Seattle with room and board. When I’d told Sam that night, he’d smiled, shaken his head in that way that made me want to kiss him and look away at the same time. His mom was over in Coeur D’Alene for a few days working at the big new Indian casino and his pop’s name formed a fading inscription in the brassy candlelight the civic association ladies always kept burning at the Sunshine Mine fire memorial up by the interstate, so I stayed the night with him as I’d been doing more often. His shoulders felt tougher, made of unbreakable 19-year-old stubbornness, and I liked the building stubble under his chin, his proud cheekbones building into the cocky smile in the portrait of his father that hung down the hall.

‘How was it down there today?’, I asked, filling the space between his back and the uneven wooden wallboards. ‘It was good, I ran a jackleg myself; drilled 2 rounds- my partner said I might get promoted from helper this year if I keep it up; we made tonnage and shift bonus’, he informed me proudly. Suddenly I felt the ground under Kellogg, Idaho shake slightly, just barely, and we all knew there were no earthquakes here. ‘Jesus… ‘ I mumbled under my breath. I saw Sam’s eyes flinch for a second; his pupils go cold. ‘Rockbursts been getting bad down on the 6800’ level, he said to no one in particular. ‘Or maybe they’re firing 2 shots per shift now on nights, the Alhambra vein down there is running 50 ounces to the ton and ‘prolly 20 feet thick…’ he said wistfully, with the same love his dad must have had of the suit-and-tie on Wall Street kinda money these guys made, but also a profession so dangerous and addictive if you’d never done it you just didn’t get it.

‘I love you Sam’, I said with eighteen years of sincerity, and my hands drifted across hard fleshy angles somewhere to the south. ‘TsssshhhFaaaa… he breathed raggedly, shifting slightly. ‘You don’t know what it’s like there… if these guys knew about us.’ ‘You think just cuz I’m going to Seattle I’m gonna forget about you?’ I don’t know why I said this. I felt alone. I wanted him to say my name again, hearing it felt like waking up from a deep sleep.

I heard the boys from before, maybe from the future stumble by below the cracked window outside, their drunken laughter ringing through the cold November fog. ‘Aww hell you didn’t fuck her, that’s my sister!’ ‘Thought she seemed like a Brackenbrush…’ followed by an echoing ‘Ooooo…’ 2 sharp bells rang across the valley from up Wardner Gulch, the mine signals we’d all remembered since we were small. The click of the sheave wheels racketing into place and the acceleration of the hoist bringing a few tons of Silver and a dozen unbreakable men to the surface was barely audible through the window. The voices piped up again outside. ‘Guess Ernie’s closed early tonight’ Sam ventured. They must be out of kegs, I thought. A man not much older than us spoke again. ‘You guys know Sam, right?’ The vague murmur of approval spread across the group. ‘He was on my shift last week, solid guy for being so green’, one of them chimed in. ‘His dad and mine were friends, said he was the best hunter in North Idaho’, the other added.

‘Yeah, well, I saw him kissing Jimmy Archer one day up in them woods by Shoshone Creek’, the first voice said hesitantly. Silence. The vague hum of the hoist making it’s way to the surface. Another bell. ‘Ain’t nothing wrong with that’ the second voice added. ‘Good for him, you know my dad told me Jimmy got a scholarship to Seattle’ a new voice said more confidently. I turned towards Sam, but he’d hidden his face in the pillow and tears pooled around square cheekbones. I pried it close to my own, and our smiles outshined every ounce of silver than even came out of these hills.