Chapter 6 #4
“Year after year,” Eugene went on, “I used to dream of finding more of that stuff. From the time I was little on up into my twenties, I was working at Grady’s, doin’ whatever needed to be done, but they were nearly as bad off as the rest of us.
So they couldn’t pay much, and my daddy was goin’ blind, and my mama was takin’ care of my older brother, who was sick, too.
Things were looking pretty bad, but since everyone was kind of in the same boat, it didn’t matter so much.
We laughed about what we didn’t have. There was a group of us used to sit around on the bench in the center of town and dream about makin’ lots of money.
I kept most of my own dreams to myself, because they seemed crazier than the rest.
“Then in the fall of ’32, the rains came.
It was the tail end of a hurricane, they said, and even though we didn’t get the winds, we got three days of driving rain.
The sun was out about a week before I had a chance to get back to Blue.
The rain had carved a big gouge out of the side of the hill. And there they were.”
“Just lying out there in the sun?” Cutter asked. He’d seen pictures in town of the Peary Necklace—everyone around was big on tourmaline since it supported the town—and was trying to imagine a hole with emerald-green stones sticking up for anyone to take.
“Not just lying there. Not like you think. Tourmaline comes buried in pockets of pegmatite. Once in a while, natural erosion will be enough to expose a crystal, but usually you have to know what you’re looking for in order to find it.
That was where I had the advantage over most others in these parts.
I knew what I was looking for. First thing I did was to stake my claim.
Next thing I did was to learn more about the stone.
I wanted to know how much there was around here and whether it was in demand.
I wasn’t about to let it go for next to nothin’ the way my daddy did. ”
Cutter thought a bit facetiously of the big house in town and the one he figured to be just as big in Boston. He thought about the car and the fine leather wallet, the money Eugene had taken out of that wallet and the money that no doubt remained. “You sure didn’t do that.”
Eugene turned a sharp eye his way. “I worked hard for what I got. I took those stones out, as many as I could, and cleaned them up, then went looking around for the best buyers. And when I had all that arranged, I came right back up here and went looking for more.”
“Why wasn’t half the county lookin’ along with you?” Cutter asked. He sure as hell would have been. If he’d been living at the time of the gold rush, he’d have been on his way to California as soon as word of the first lode came in.
“Because I had the sense that they didn’t.
I had the organization. I knew about tourmaline, knew how it was formed and where it was goin’ to be found.
By that time, I also had the chain set up to get the stones to market for top dollar.
Tourmaline isn’t as valuable as diamond.
One stone won’t make a fellow rich. The odd stone that’s picked up may make someone a little money, but it’s only on the larger scale of keeping a steady supply flowing into the market that the money comes.
So I hired all my friends to work for me, and I guaranteed them the living they couldn’t be guaranteed anywhere else. ”
“You were that sure you’d keep finding the stones?”
“No. But I figured that a week’s wages was better than nothing, so I went week to week.
And I’m still around.” He straightened in his seat, overlapping his hands on the top of the wheel.
“We’re just about to open Lampett Peak. That dirt is from the start of the mine.
We’ve got to dig a whole lot deeper if we want to come up with much.
I’m looking for help.” His hands slipped down.
One closed around the keys, starting the engine again.
The other steered the car around and back toward the main road.
Cutter watched him cautiously. He wondered if he’d been offered a job. He wasn’t sure he’d take it if it was.
As though anticipating the argument, Eugene said, “Your daddy worked for me for a while, but that wasn’t what killed him.
What killed him was the booze. It rotted his mind so he couldn’t see straight or think straight.
He started drinkin’ long before he went to work for me, long before he married your mama, long before they had you.
” He paused, then said almost casually, “I didn’t see any bottles lying around your place. Were they stashed under all the mess?”
“You think I have to drink because my daddy did?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“If I don’t have money for food, how would I get money for booze?”
“People who want it find it.” Eugene darted him a look. “Don’t you want to tell me what a big man you are and how well you hold your liquor?”
Cutter turned his face to the window. “What’s the point?” he muttered. “You’ve seen me with my pants down.”
“You got some problem in that department, too?”
“I got no problem!”
“Lots of women?”
Cutter snorted. “Sure.”
“Clean yourself up a little, and you will. You’re not a bad-looking guy. Eat some, and you’ll fill out. Put on a little weight. Give your body a chance to grow into itself.”
Cutter snorted again. He was getting uncomfortable with talk about his body. Coming from Eugene, it had a ring of truth. “Look, are you goin’ to drive me over to the jail, or aren’t you?”
“Haven’t you figured that one out yet, boy?”
“You’re not?”
Eugene didn’t answer. Without another word, he drove back to Cutter’s place. Only when he’d stopped the car did he speak again. “Do you want a job?”
“I don’t know.”
“‘I don’t know’ ain’t gonna get you anywhere in this life. You want to go places besides courthouses and prisons?”
“I suppose.”
“Then you want a job. Be at Lampett’s Peak tomorrow morning at seven. We start early. Eat well before you come or you’ll be hungry long before lunch. And clean up that pigsty in there. It’s a disgrace.”
Cutter wanted to argue. There were a number of pithy things on the tip of his tongue, the most immediate being, “Up yours,” but he didn’t say it. What he said was, “How are you going to swing it with Verne?”
“Verne isn’t the problem. He’s happy to have you off his hands.
The problem is Judd. I’ll have to give him a good talking to.
But so help me, boy, if you ever go back to that station for anything but to buy gas with your own money, you won’t be working for me anymore.
My men don’t steal. They got a problem and need money, they come to me.
” He barely paused for breath. “Do you know how to cook?”
“I can make do.”
“There’s a bundle of wood in the trunk. See that you get the stove going. There’s also a jug of gasoline back there for your cycle. You’ll need it to get to the Peak.”
Cutter was confused. “Why are you doing this?”
Eugene gave him a droll look. “Because I’m a sucker. Isn’t that what you said?”
“You didn’t get to where you are by being a sucker,” Cutter conceded. He felt he owed it to Eugene, after all he was doing. “So why are you takin’ the risk?”
“Maybe ’cause I want to. Maybe ’cause I think you’d’a had a better start if I’d been able to help your daddy. Maybe ’cause I liked the guy, and he ain’t here to set you straight.”
Things were getting too sentimental for Cutter. “You know what this town thinks of me. Anything goes wrong at that mine, I’m goin’ to be the one blamed, and then they’ll blame you for takin’ me on.”
“That’ll be my worry. You just see that you’re not responsible for anything going wrong at the mine, and you’ll do fine.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“I’m sure. No one will accuse you of something you didn’t do, not at my mine. I place value on honesty. And loyalty. I’m loyal to my men and they’re loyal to me.”
“I don’t know nuthin’ about loyalty.”
“Then it’s about time you learned. Unless you don’t think you can. Is that it, boy? Are you worried you can’t hack it?”
“I can hack it.”
“Then get the hell out of my car and start putting your house in order. You got a lot to do before morning.”