Written in the Scars

“Thank you, thank you,” Lindsay repeats, releasing my hand and clasping hers in front of her face.

“We’ve sent food and water down and they are aware of our plans to get them out.”

“Can we talk to them?” I ask, my heart pounding in my chest. “Please?”

“I’m afraid not,” Vernon says, wincing.

“Why not?” Lindsay asks. “We’re their wives. Jiggs is her brother too! That’s bullshit!”

“I know you feel that way,” Vernon apologizes. “This is standard protocol. We have to focus on the operation at hand and you aren’t permitted out there. I’m sorry.”

Lindsay and I turn to each other, burying our faces in the other’s shoulder, our sobs racking our frames.

“They did ask us to tell you they love you.”

I just cry harder. This should be a relief, that they’re alive and well, but it’s not. It means they’re aware they’re stuck a few hundred feet below the surface. It means they’ve probably witnessed their friends die. It means a miner’s biggest fear has been realized by my husband, brother, and friend.

“Vernon?” I ask, wiping my eyes. “What are the chances we will get them out?”

“I can’t say.”

“Yes, you can,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “What is the percentage that all three of them will get out of there?”

“We’re doing the best we can.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“Mrs. Whitt,” he says, his voice full of anguish, “that’s all I have. We are doing everything in our power to bring them home.” He walks to the door and opens it, but pauses before leaving. “If you ladies need anything else, I’m right out here.”





TY


Cord tosses a pebble. It hits a puddle of water and splashes. Years of fishing and skipping rocks tells me that the water is deeper over there than a simple wet patch.

Jiggs’ light goes off on his helmet as he leans against the slick mine wall. He mumbles in his sleep, something about a transmission. Cord and I grin, but don’t laugh. Any other time, we’d heckle him relentlessly, but not today. Not now. We just let him enjoy the simple annoyances of a transmission.

The glow from the light illuminates the trash from the food and the emptied bottles. I lift a leg, my body cold, wet, and aching. My clothes are completely soaked through, even though the mining bibs are supposed to be waterproof. I guess they aren’t made to sit in this shit for hours on end.

Or days?

“How long you figure we’ve been down here?” I ask Cord, keeping my voice down so as not to wake Jiggs.

He tosses another pebble. “Fuck if I know.” Another pebble launches. “Hopefully not much longer.”

Another pebble goes sailing.

“I’ve been thinking . . .” I force a swallow. Once this is decided upon, it will be a sealed deal. And as Foreman, it’s my decision. I remember how many decisions I’ve had to make and how many I hated making and laugh. I’d give anything to trade those stupid choices with this one.

“If the bore works,” I say, “we need to agree on who goes out in what order.”

Cord’s eyes darken. “I go last.”

“No,” I gulp, the words stinging my throat. “I have to go last. I’m the boss.”

“Fuck that,” Cord says, the remaining debris in his hand rocketing across the room. “You two have wives, families. I’ll go last.”

“I can’t do that, Cord.”

“Sure you can.”

Blowing out a breath, I steady myself. “I will agree Jiggs goes first. Lindsay is pregnant. That gives him seniority, in my opinion.”

Cord nods, his mouth opening for a split second. He shakes his head and growls through the room.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing.” He removes his helmet and sits it beside him. “Okay. Jiggs first. I agree with that. Then you.”

He looks pointedly at me, a fire to his gaze that I don’t see often.

“I’m the Foreman,” I point out. “I took an oath to get my men in and out every shift.”

“I really don’t give a shit,” he chuckles angrily.

“Damn it, Cord. If something happened to you, do you think I’d be able to live with myself knowing I left you behind?”

“That works both ways, Mr. Foreman. I’m not about to go up and tell Elin, ‘He’ll be right here.’”

Staggering to my feet, I wince as my left leg screams in agony. “It’s Jiggs. You. Then me. Got it?” I bark.

He watches me closely, his lips forming a thin line. Finally, he shrugs and stands, grabbing his helmet off the ground. “Whatever, Whitt. I’m gonna go take a leak.”

His boots splash in the water as he makes his way into the darkness. I watch him until I can’t see him anymore, then I turn to Jiggs. He’s smiling in his sleep, his face streaked black, making him look like a cartoon character.

My knees buckle as the situation slams into me. I catch myself on the wall.

“Dear God,” I whisper, feeling my lashes touch the grit on my face. “Please get us out of here.”





ELIN


“I love you.”