Spindle(63)

“You mean looking for someone? Not recently. But Ethel said she had a mother-in-law. What if she came looking to warn Ethel about her husband?”

“No, Ethel received a telegram from her yesterday to let her know her husband is back home and feeling remorseful over what he did.”

“Is Ethel going back to him?”

Miss Olive shook her head. “No, dearie. But she is going to stay with us. She’s become a much stronger woman in Sunrise Valley and I’m glad she’ll let us help her a little longer. You and Mim have been good friends to her.”

“So who is this mystery woman?” asked Briar.

“What woman?” said Miss Olive. She pinched the tea into an infuser and set it in a teapot.

“The one you were asking me about. If I’d seen someone loitering near the mill.”

“Oh, I haven’t seen anyone. I was asking if you had.” She pointed to the stack of plates waiting to go out to the tables. “Would you mind getting the girls started setting the table?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Briar hefted a stack of plates to the table, wondering if she was in the right boardinghouse. Miss Olive was starting to sound a bit off, like Fanny.

Monday morning the overseers had the girls scrub the spinning room from top to bottom. At first their work was solemn, thinking about all the operatives missing from their ranks, but as the day wore on, they started singing and visiting with one another, something they couldn’t do when all the frames were running.

“Be sure to clean and grease each and every spindle,” the overseer had said. He had looked straight at Briar before rubbing his hands and trotting off to put his feet up in his office. “I’ll be checking.”

The work was tedious, and it took them a long time to complete a frame. Briar had begun with frame number one. She did a good job of cleaning her frames every Saturday, so there wasn’t much fluff to find. However, wiping off the grease and applying more was a messy job, and soon she looked and felt as dirty as a doffer.

Finally she’d worked her way to the frame with the fairy wood spindle. She’d already decided that she would not clean it. She’d work as far as the neighboring spindles, but not let her hands go near the wooden one, and hope the overseer didn’t check each and every spindle like he said he would.

She slowed down when she got near the wooden spindle, afraid it might compel her to prick her finger. When she was doffing, it was a quick off with the full bobbin, on with the new, and move along. She’d never been tempted to touch the tip.

The other girls started singing “Daisy Bell,” a light, fun song. Those who started work as doffers took off their boots and slid on the oily and soapy floor like they did when they were children. It had been a long time since the spinning room had been so joyful.

Briar sang along to relax her nerves. She was now cleaning the spindles on either side of the fairy wood. Hook in. Pull out. Sing the words. Pass over the wooden spindle. Hook in. Pull out. Sing the words. Breathe.

Daisy, Daisy give me your answer do.

I’m half crazy, all for the love of you.

It won’t be a stylish marriage.

I can’t afford a carriage.

But you’ll look sweet upon the seat.

Of a bicycle built for two.

Briar was past the wooden spindle and she hadn’t touched it. Elated, she joined in the circle of girls nearest her as they spun in a circle, singing, “I’m half crazy, all for the love of you.”

She thought about how crazy Wheeler had made her. Even though the future was uncertain, she had no lingering regrets. As she continued to dance with the girls on the spinning room floor, her thoughts naturally drifted to Henry, who made her crazy whether he was here fixing her frame with a wink and a smile, or walking her home, showing surprising sensitivity for her feelings. The song seemed made for him. It wouldn’t be a stylish marriage, but a life with him would be fun and filled with love.

Briar stopped dancing as she realized the great distance her thoughts had just traveled. She stepped out of the circle watching the operatives play. Was she only feeling this way because he wasn’t there? More importantly, would she still feel this way if he came home?

The overseer stepped out of his office to see the commotion. “Inspection!”

The operatives immediately stopped their dancing and scurried to their frames. He started with the frames on Briar’s side of the room. He was inspecting every single spindle.

When he got to Briar’s wooden spindle, he barely looked at it when he said, “This one is dirty. Do it again.” He stood, waiting for Briar to clean it right then.

She took out her hook and rag and, with trembling fingers, pushed the hook in and around the base of the spindle, pulling out a tiny bit of cotton fluff. She wiped it on her rag, hoping that was all the overseer wanted.

“Wipe off the entire spindle. Especially near the tip. It looks like it’s not been touched.”

Briar swallowed.

“The tip?” she whispered.

A girl named Grace who worked the far side of the room stepped in. She took her rag and wiped the spindle and put on a fresh bobbin. “There you go. A clean spindle.” She stood with her arms crossed between Briar and the overseer. “Maybe now you can go pick on someone else. Briar is your best worker, and I can’t take it anymore how you single her out.”

“Impertinence. This is the last day you’ll work here or in any mill. You’re fired.” The overseer marched into his office, presumably to fill out the paper work.