The Curse Of The Moloch (15)
Miz' Jezebel, Jeremiah's attentive mother, returned quickly with an election souvenier tray laden with pitcher of lemonade, two chipped mugs and a tin of her baked good. With a bang she placed it heavily on the rickety counter. "Dearie me, fergot the lamp... Gettin' on wit' darkness. Dearie me, cain't see a blessed thing, " as she exclaimed as she turned on her heels towards the kitchen. She returned shortly with a smoking, poorly lit kerosene lamp which she placed near the pitcher. "Gettin' on in me yars. Mighty fergetful in me ways." she garbled as she filled the two glasses with the cool liquid; after grabbing a handful of her biscuits Miz' Jezebel, tired and worn, simply flopped heavily onto one of the cane chairs. "Take a sip ov th' lem'nade, mighty freshin' an' take a bit ov me baked goods. Did em a couple ov' nights ago." Both Miz Jezebel and Jeremiah sat in the coolness of the evening hour and sipped bitter lemonade and chewed hard tack biscuits. They sat quietly, just staring out at the dimness of the night. Miz' Jezebel fidgeted in her chair, and, in an abrupt attempt, formed her speech. "Th' mine's been pretty good 'bout th' 'plosion, she stated slowly, "We've got a few hundred greenbacks frum th' company's insurenments. Then thar' waz th' half-pay ov yers fer a' two yars an' them bills paid at th' hospitals. Sure was nice ov 'em.." She spoke haltingly as she told of the help and stipends offered by coal miner's union, "Mighty needed in these h'yar times." Jeremiah heard her words, smirked and nodded without understanding. After an hour or so Miz' Jezebel rose from the discomfort of her chair. With a note of irritability in her voice, she exclaimed to her son, "time's a' gettin' might late... Ah'm a bit tired.. So let's turn in. An' donts ferget yer pills.. Th' doctor tol' ye need t' take em afore ye gits to sleep..an' when ye gits up in th' mawning'...D'ye hear!" She then produced from a deep pocket of her dress a few bottles of pills, and carefully she doled the need amount to her son. "Now hear me a' tellin ye... Take these two wit' th' rest of yer drink.Th' other two when ye gits up in th' mawnin'," she stated emphatical-ly. Her pocket also yielded a stub of a candle which she lit from the kerosene lamp flame, and then stuck it in one of the mugs, "Fer ye t' make yer way wit a bit ov light, an' don ferget t' blow it out afore you get t' sleep." Jeremiah watched his mother leave and he did likewise. He picked up the mug with the lit candle and walked through the hall towards his room. As he trudged along he looked at the peeling walls, he thought he saw crawling monstrous creatures trying to escape from the worn boards. As he climbed the worn stairs to his room the rays of the brilliant half-moon, beaming from the uncovered window, taunted his sedated mind with the rememberance of the past. The beating tread of his lumbering feet on the stairs recalled another sound that beat in fogginess of his mind. He tried hard in his weakness to recall the fading memory but to no avail. Jeremiah entered his room and prepared himself for the rest of the night. The cover of the warm blankets and the narcotic of the taken pills carried him to a comfortable and relaxed sleep. And as Jeremiah lay on the comfort of his the straw filled mattress, the Moloch looked on at the unsconcious form and placed his fiery mark on the forehead of the coming sacrificial lamb. � � � Chapter Thirty-two During the passage of time, bits of clarity slowly returned to the mind of Jeremiah Micaiah bringing back past memories. Familar sights were seen and recollected - the works of the bustling colliery, the center in the hollow, and the mysteries of the climbing wooded hills. Neighbors and kin folk were sometimes recognized and there was, at times, casual chatter... and to the delight of Miz' Jezebel, his believing mother, Jeremiah returned to the chapel services of the Sunday mornings, "Th' Good Lordy be lookin' after me boy.." The overworked phsychiatrist at the county hospital noticed Jeremiah's healing behavior during the weekly outpatient treatments. After a short period elapsed, and after a cursory examinination, the doctor penned in many words telling of his patient's continuing good advance in his mental condition; that further treatment was not required, relieving the doctor of one more burden. He scribbled the correct prescriptions and handed the slip of paper to Miz' Jezebel, Jeremiah's honest kin, with a warning that her son must take the pills prescribed at the correct hours. Jeremiah had an additional blessing in the form of the blocked memory of the terrible accident in the pits. The remembrance was deeply buried in the depth of his conscious being, closed beyond the reaches of his senses. The simpleness of his mind was unable to direct his thoughts that would bring foward that remembrance. Miz' Jezebel, his clever mother, was wise in keeping it as a secret, never revealing it... and, she warned kin and neighbors that her son's madness would get worse if he knew, "Now, mind yer talkin'. Me son's tetched in th' haid frum that 'plosion, an' he would go crackers if tol' 'bout it." Within time the mine owners saw that he still had his wits about him, and in their generosity gave him a job at the sorting shed; their generosity was limited as he was offered a lower rate of pay. The work was easy for his strength; all he had to do was to sort the slag from the coal running along the circling conveyors. His companions were not the rough miners but youth in the early years of their adolescence; their ways were uncomplicated and Jeremiah was able to understand. And again Miz' Jezebel, his ageing mother, had the tiredsome job of getting up at the early hours and shaking her son to wakefulness and preparing his breakfast. She cursed inwardly as she carried on her motherly duties. The earliness of rising, the long hours at the mine, and the late return caused the neglect of remembering the taking of the narcotic pills as the regular hours; and within time the bottles emptied not to be refilled. The tiring efforts of Miz'Jezebel, his anguished and worried mother, were to avail, "Mind ye, them thar pills r' fer yer good an' needs t' be taken. Th' devil 'll take yer if ye don care fer yerself." But Jeremiah just looked at her with his smirking face and said nothing. Satan laughed gleefully as he watched as Jeremiah replaced the needed medicine with the evil jar of liquor; he rubbed his hands with satisfaction as he knew that the sinner's soul would be his within time. The loyal fellows of the jar welcomed him back, and Jeremiah Micaiah joined them in the late night hours at the regular meeting place under the old willow near the general store. His coin was accepted and he shared in the passing of the jar. "Th' looney tis great funs t' look at when he gits pissed," they reasoned in their stupidity. A few sips of the devil brew and Jeremiah, in the simplicity of his mind, satisfied their evening's entertainment with tottering clodhopping and off-key bellowing. He would carry on until the shopkeeper's good woman had her fill and would drive him and his companions away with cursing, together with the wielding of her broom. ...and afterwards Jeremiah just staggered back to the grand house with his friendly demon and spirit companions of the past tagging along. They flew about him, and Jeremiah talked with them, enjoying their pleasant company. They listened quietly and had the pleasure of the evening. Jeremiah's drinking habits increased as he found solace in the fiery spirits. In this constant drunken state the memory of the mental hospital and the fear of the electric shock passed through his mind. He was seen constantly staggering through the settlement, a constant grin smeared on his features, and talking to some unseen creatures of his hidden fantasy. The passers-by couldn't understand his joy in conversing with friendly creatures of his mind or why his deep-set eyes flared in anger, as he cursed and slurred with foul words towards evil monsters, shadow spirits and the rest of the ilk. They could not reason that visions were only seen by the Jeremiah in the fantasy of his mind that increased in the swirling mist of drink. He became a known figure amoungst the majority of the good citizens of the community - looked upon as a crazed and pitiful character. To the youngsters of the parish he was a target of their tricks and taunts, but to the believers of the word, he was deeply feared as they thought the devil and his emissaries of evil possessed him. Miz' Jezebel, his worried and angry mother, remostrated with him and tried to change his ways but to no avail. She exclaimed in prophetic wrath of, "Ye be going' t' th' ways of th' devil... D'ye hear.. takin' t' drink 'stead of yer pills... Ye be walkin' th' way t' th' fire of thet' devil god th' Moloch." She cursed and raged at him, turning her reason to hate for the devil's possession of her son. But the creatures of hell swarmed in Jeremiah's mind deafening him to the justification of her words. Again the crazed creature's trying mother, had to wait at entrance to her home on payday to prevent the wastage of his earnings on drink. As soon as Jeremiah entered the dwelling Miz' Jezebel snatched the wage packet from him and only offered him the few coins for the jar. The meager sum in her son's envelope, together with her late husband's tiny pension, was the only thought that entered the mind of Miz' Jezebel, Jeremiah concerned mother, as she bore her misery. � � � Chapter Thirty-three Blackness visited the community during the trials at the coming winter months. The devil and his wicked emissaries had risen, and in their struggle regained their rule over the powers of the good. It was in the time when the freezing winds hardened the earth and froze the waters; through the cold of the air an ominous message was spread widely to the good folk of the community. Those who laboured in the pits that were first to receive the news that spelled the coming of troubled times. They heard it through the steady drumbeat of rumours beating in the air, in the rattle of uncomfirmed reports and by snippets of hearsay that passed in the gossip of their anxious voices. They whispered their knowledge to their kinfolk and the words from their voices increased the anxiety of fear and sometimes of panic. Their hushed voices grew louder and louder in sound as it told of the competition of a new product - oil. Oil that was pumped from endless wells on the rich fields in the country and in lands abroad. The flowing black liquid was easy to handle and its was cheaper in running costs. Rapidly petroleum products replaced coal powering the trains, lighting industry and warming the homes. "Piles of coal layin' about. . th' coal cars comin' in mighty slow," the miners muttered amoungst themselves as they cursed the sight of piling coal. The alarming news of the competition also reached the ears of the mine owners; they carefully checked and rechecked their production sheets and balanced the figures of profit and loss. The officials read word by word the reports of their engineers; they studied various business documents. Then they totaled their information and came to the realization that the mining costs in the digging the coal from deep underground pits were increasing; that coal could not compete with oil in price. Profits together with the seam of coal were thinning out. Board meeting were called, and the member's answer was decided in the finality of long discussions. Their astute opinion, for the sake of their capital, to shut the mine. Closure of the colliery had to be done immediately.. The closure came on a cold winter's day as miners on the early shift found locks placed on the entrance gates to the mine. They were puzzled, stunned by the sight. True, the miners received a two weeks notice when they got their pink slips and figures computing compensation. But they only understood the daily labours of digging the coal; they were unable to comprehend the meaning of the pieces of paper, and very few took notice of the small typed print. Mobs of angry miners formed in pockets around the mine office and at the closed gates leading to the pits. They shooked their brawny fists and flung invectives and threats to the officialdom of the mine. Attempts by the managers of the colliery to explain the reason for the closure fell on deaf ears; nor were they heard as they explained that the miners had no cause to gather and complain as they had been given proper notice. The coal diggers continued to block out the voices of the managers with catcalls heavily loaded with anger. They only thought of their lost jobs and answered back with ugly loud sounds of derision, "Yer liars, liars like ah stinkin' skonks. Git th' mine open, open th' mine." The roar of their angry voices increased, and there was a threat of violence sweeping the air. The county sheriff and a few deputies were on hand to protect both life and property but they were few in numbers, and the determined will of the mob overcame their thin line. Both the sheriff and a few deputies fell back to the very doors of the office. They had to fire over the crowd to prevent them from breaking into the premises and taking the law of the brute into their hands, namely breaking the bones of the mine officials, and even stringing up one or two. Discouraged in the first efforts the miners ran to the locks gates of the mine opening and with brute force trampled them down. Two deputies, on guard there, were easily overcome, and, through a couple of blows to the back of their heads, were rendered unsconcious. The toughest and loudest amoungst the mob assumed the leadership and led the way to the shaft elevator. The caged gates were heavily bolted and the miners slowly came to the realization of the meaning of the words of closure. Anger ensued, followed by a path of mayhem and destruction of the mine property. The rifles, snatched from the deputies, were used to shoot out windows and to disable electrical connections. Miners grabbed heavy iron rods and tore out the chains of the standing conveyors. Some of them aided in the toppling coal cars. At one of the storage sheds, the mobbing coal diggers found stacked jeroboams of liquid alchohol which tasted to them better than the liquid spirits produced by the still. Sampling turned to guzzling and many of the miner's were plastered by its taste; a few passed out, stone cold. From the mine office a call was put out to governing body of the state for assistance. Their garbled and excited voices were enough to convince the state authorities that additional forces would be needed to protect the mine property; they promised that help would be forthcoming. While the frightened mine managers waited, they watched helplessly as the intoxicated miners continued in their sacking and burning of property in their drunken rage. Miners danced madly around burning sheds like the emissaries of the devil; the raucous jeers of the onlookers seemed like a call to the demons and shadow spirits that winged evilly through the smoke filled air. Suddenly, sirens were heard as a fleet of ten official vehicles filled with state troopers arrived on the scene. The officer in charge quickly surveyed the situation, and quickly gave orders to form up and push back the crowd; the troopers were given free use of their rifles. A well aimed shot from a trooper's rifle, and the sight of a wounded screaming compatriot was all the miners needed to scurry back. They ran in panic, skeltering all about looking for shelter in their attempt to avoid the wrath of the flying bullets. The women folk gathered up their little ones, and scattered away through the turmoil with lingering shouts of panic emitted from their throats. Only a few additional shots in the air were required to herd the miners away from the colliery. Within time a truckload of fourteen deputized men were brought to the mine to assist the state-troopers. "Scabs, scabs!" were the words shouted at them from a distance by the angry miners. But they had guns and the miners were forced to fall back from their haphazard shooting. Fortunately these deputies were full of liquor and their aim was poor, and, in time, they engaged in another sport, chasing after innocent girls. It was unfortunate for a girl of the parish when they put their hands on her. The poor creature was dragged screaming to a hidden spot, had her clothes torn apart, and forced to submit to brutal sex by a handful of drunken deputies. The women-folk spelled deathly wishes against these evil monsters as they braved fusilades of shot to rescue their daughters; with determination and with the swings of hefty cudgels they succeeded. Only three weeping mothers were not so fortunate, and they had the misery of attending to the soiled bodies of their offsprings. The dispirited miners reluctantly allowed the county fire trucks to traverse the rough roads to the mine; and they watched as the firemen hosed down the burning remains of mine sheds and the other property. There were no jeers from their lips towards the working fire-fighters only deep silent curses. Only, those filled with the alchohol, drunkenly directed their work, "Heh, Heh, atta' boy.. Jess that-a-way. Thar be th' fire.." Afterwards heavy sounds were heard along the dusty roads. They signalled truckloads of guardsmen called up from the innocence of their lives to the misery of obtaining order. Twenty trucks, loaded with men and material, were in the convoy. The sight of the trucks prompted some of the miners, drunk and sober, to beat a hasty retreat to their shotgun shacks; a few took to the hills with their trusty weapons. Still there were many miners brave enough to welcome these strangers with the viciousness of their tongues. The guardsmen immediately took up their positions, and within time the state policemen were relieved to attend to their regular duties. The deputized men were quickly subdued and disarmed; but the commanding guard-officer, being a righteous citizen and knowing of their drunken rapine offenses, simply drove them towards the waiting miners. And it didn't take long for the coal diggers and their women to recognize them as the ravagers of their daughters; with a whoop and a holler they jumped on the now sober deputies. The following night was a misery for the soldiers. The youngsters of the community gathered near the encampments armed with rocks and slag. At a signal cry from their leader, they let loose a volley of missiles; some, with a true aim inflicted numbing wounds on the soldiers. It carried on for some time until one guardsman got fed up with the nuisance and he let loose a volley of shots towards the stone throwers; his flying bullets left one of the youth bleeding to death as he was rushed to the hospital. The guardsman was relieved of duty with a reprimand, but his action quickly stopped the missiles. The following day, added troubles visited the miners as patrols of guardsmen pounded on the thin doors of their shotgun shacks; aided by the mine officials they sought out the so-called leaders of the mob and those suspected of destroying property. Without ceremony they entered the dwellings, one by one, scattering and breaking the spindly furniture until their search found their quarry. Within the sight of a mother and her brood, the man of house was dragged in front of the mine official, identified and then unceremoniously pushed outside. His hands were tied and he was dumped in an army lorry. The soldiers disregarded the resistance of the wailing women and sometimes in meaness used their rifles, direct in the pit of the stomach, to force them back into their shacks. The innocent citizens of the community were helpless as they looked on in anger and swore their revenge. They watched, cursing inwardly, as the truck pulled away from dwellings coupled with the whining cries of wives and children. Revenge came quickly as the miners who hid in the hills came down during the night to the guardmen's encampment, and with true aim from their trusty shotguns, pelted the bodies of the unwary soldiers. Three guardsmen left a weeping wife and children and four others were crippled. The guardsmen immediately formed patrols; the state police joined in with the help of sniffing bloodhounds and experienced trackers. Within time two of the hidden men were shot down, four were captured and the rest driven away. The search for the rioters continued. They came to the grand house of Miz' Jezebel and tried to force an entrance, but one the soldier's head rang with the well-aimed blow of a heavy skillet pan. Jeremiah's maw fought a hard battle despite the weakness of her aging limbs, and it had to have the determined strength of two soldiers to hold her. But she added to her struggle by shouting out curses and invectives, "Damn ye t' th' devil... Toadies ye be, toadies ye be lickin' th' boots of them bosses... Th' curse of the devil be up y' toadies.." One soldier tried to cover her mouth but Miz' Jezebel's teeth sunk deep, and he had to pull away hurriedly, yowling with pain.
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