Moon Over Manifest

“Looks like studying’s going to be a tight squeeze working double shifts.”

“Sir?”

“That’s right. There’s been a bit of a mix-up. We need to dig out a new room and Weintraub’s out with a broken leg. You’ll go in for him.”

“But I just worked a full shift.”

“Strong kid like you, shouldn’t be a problem. I suppose we could call in your old man. I recall seeing an unpaid balance on the Hadley Gillen account at the Devlin Mercantile. He might want some extra work in case a ‘payment in full’ notice comes due. Think about it.”

Burton handed Ned his pay envelope and walked off.

“That’s not fair,” Jinx said. “There’s lots of folks who could fill in for Weintraub. Why does he want you so bad?”

“I’ve beaten Devlin’s son too many times at track meets.”

“So what? His son has everything else going for him. Money, privilege, family name.”

“Yeah, and that kind of person doesn’t like to get beat by a person of questionable background.” Ned’s voice shook with emotion.

“Forget about him,” Jinx said. “Let’s go down to the fairgrounds later on. I hear there’s a fella selling all kinds of fireworks.”

“Selling,” Ned said, opening his envelope, “as in money, of which you have none.” He stared at the contents in disgust. “And, I guess, neither do I. They work us like pack mules for seventy-eight cents a ton of coal and then pay us in vouchers for the company store. It’s no wonder we can’t get out from under their thumb.” He crumpled up the envelope. “So unless they’re selling fireworks at the Devlin Mercantile, we’re out of luck.”

“I didn’t say we were going to buy any. We’re just going to look. Once we see what goes in one, we can make our own. We’ll have fellas all over Crawford County buying our fireworks.”

“Not in the mood.”

“C’mon. Where’s your spirit of adventure?”

Ned slowly buckled his belt and pick around his waist. “It’s buried a hundred and fifty feet underground. Maybe I’ll start working triple shifts. Then I can buy a piece of that coal vein and somebody might have a little leverage against Devlin.”

“Suit yourself. But I did see Pearl Ann Larkin trying on a fetching hat at the millinery today. Big pink thing with feathers. She waved at me through the window.”

Ned shrugged, opening the lower chamber of his miner’s lamp and dropping in a small handful of little white cubes. He turned the knob to the chamber above, allowing a few drops of water to hit the cubes, creating a gas that rose to the top. Ned flicked the flint, sparking a flame. Donning the hat, he said with a smirk, “Big pink thing with feathers, huh? If it doesn’t come with a carbide gas light, I’m not interested.”

“She said something about looking forward to sharing some popcorn with you tonight at the carnival and taking a ride on the carousel. But I guess that doesn’t interest you either.”

Ned adjusted the flame and shined it in Jinx’s squinting eyes. “She said that?”

“Sure as I’m standing here. And I happen to know you’ve got forty cents at home.”

Ned sighed. “This shift doesn’t end until six o’clock.”

Jinx smiled, knowing he had won. “I’ll meet you at the fireworks booth at six-thirty.”

Ned studied Jinx under the light of his helmet lamp. “What are you cooking up, Jinx? The last time you were this interested in my courting Pearl Ann, I ended up smelling like a glacial skunk.”

Jinx straddled his bike. “By the time you’re done working two shifts, you’ll smell plenty without any help from me. So be sure to wash up,” he called as he pedaled off.

The autumn night was cool. Hensen’s field just outside of town was aglow with hanging lanterns strung from one booth to the next. The county fair was a welcome time for all. Farmers had finished harvesting their soybeans, milo, and alfalfa and had planted their winter wheat. The kids had a break from school. Folks from neighboring towns stopped in to sample the variety of foods.

The Italians baked everything from cannelloni to ziti. The Swedes served up braided bread and hard baked pretzels, while the Germans and Austrians touted their strudels and bierochs.

Jinx spotted Ned and handed him a calzone. “Compliments of Mama Santoni. She heard you had to work two shifts.”

“Grazie,” Ned called to the large woman, his mouth already full of bread and cheese.

“Eat, eat,” she insisted, her arms deep in dough. “Come back, I have biscuits baking. I keep them warm for you, yes?”

“We’ll be back,” Jinx said, leading Ned away by the elbow.

A few booths over, a placard read JASPER HINKLEY, PYROTECTIC. The exuberant Mr. Hinkley worked a crowd of young boys who apparently had plenty of money to spend. “There you go, lads. And remember, be careful with fire. Once you start it, fire works!”

The boys ran off, leaving Mr. Hinkley to laugh alone. He smoothed the handlebar mustache covering his upper lip. “Just a little pyrotectic humor, gentlemen. What can I do you for today? See here, you’ve got your Shanghai Sizzlers, Sparkling Marys, Chinese Color Changers.”

Jinx picked up a red cylinder behind the rest. “What’s this one?”