Clare Vanderpool - Moon Over Manifest

I turned around, but only because I was at the end of one row and starting on another.

“He says he will use it as a picnic area for his miners to eat their lunch. It does not take a diviner to see this is a lie. He barely gives the men time to eat and they do that underground. Too much time is wasted coming up and going down for a few minutes of fresh air. The news spreads and Hadley Gillen calls a meeting. They piece together what I could have told them all along.”

She let off for a long pause, and I swear the words came without my willing them to.

“What? What could you tell them?”

Miss Sadie almost smiled. “Where the grass grows thick and animals refuse to burrow, there is ore below.”

I remembered something from an early part of Miss Sadie’s story. Jinx had seen Mr. Devlin arguing with the mine geologist. It had been something about the coal vein taking a turn and going the wrong direction. Was that what she was talking about?

Miss Sadie picked up where my thoughts left off.

“The vein, it zigs where it should have zagged and runs right under the patch of ground between Devlin’s mine and the town of Manifest—the Widow Cane’s property. Unfortunately, after her death, it was the only patch of ground that neither side could claim as their own.…”

No-Man’s-Land

JULY 20, 1918

Jinx rushed headlong into Shady’s place. “Hey, Shady, you’re not going to believe how many bottles I sold.” He fanned a wad of money.

Shady looked furtively toward the front door as dusk set in. “Now’s probably not a good time.”

Jinx continued, not noticing Shady’s uneasiness. “Your hooch and Velma T.’s elixir are a match made in heaven. It’s been less than two weeks and just about everybody in town—”

“Quite a few of those folks are going to be showing up here any minute for Hadley’s meeting.”

“Why here?”

“Because Hadley only invited one or two people from each fraternal order and he doesn’t want Burton knowing about it. After the cross burning in front of the German hall, folks are a little on edge. But they’re coming, and the way Eudora Larkin’s been doggin’ me all week after that episode at the Women’s Temperance League meeting, I have a feeling she’ll be not far behind them. Your elixir made a lasting impression on her.”

Jinx’s mouth dropped open. “She bought a bottle from Velma T., not me. Besides, who told her to drink a whole bottle in one sitting?” He hesitated. “Do you think she knows we did a little tampering with it?”

“You’ve been selling it all over town, so I think she might have a pretty good idea.”

Jinx grimaced. “Well, there was extra and I figured I was doing Velma T. a favor to get her elixir out among the ailing public.”

“I’m sure that was your utmost priority,” Shady said with a sideways glance.

They heard footsteps crunching on the gravel outside.

“Quick,” Shady whispered. He hoisted up a movable panel behind the bar that revealed a hidden stash of whiskey bottles.

“What’s that for?” Jinx asked in astonishment.

“It’s for hiding things. What’s it look like? Get in and stay there.” Jinx barely had time to stuff his wad of money into his overalls and crawl inside before the front door opened.

The space was dark and cramped. Jinx shifted to find a more comfortable position and noticed a pinhole of light. He strained to reach it and placed his eye against a perfect peephole, through which he could see most of the bar’s seating area of small wooden tables and chairs.

It was Chester Thornhill who entered. Chester was a regular customer, who knew nothing of any meeting. “Evening, Shady. I’ll have a shot.”

Jinx heard Shady behind the bar. “Evening, Chester. Going to have a quick one tonight? I’ll bet the missus is waiting for you.”

“I’m in no hurry,” Chester said.

The front door opened again and more people arrived. Jinx watched from his hiding space.

Chairs shifted and scraped against the dusty floor as people took their seats and eyed each other without speaking. There had never been a town meeting before. Normally, each fraternal order would gather in their own hall and discuss their own business. On occasion there might be an awkward encounter in the mercantile or the hardware store, in which members of one nationality might exchange a halted word of greeting with those of another.

Even in church, folks kept to their own. Among the Catholics, the Austrians went to Mass at eight o’clock, Italians at nine o’clock, and Irish at ten o’clock. Services were divided up similarly among the Lutherans and Methodists.

But in light of the recent goings-on at the mine, the cross burning at the German Fraternal Hall, and the Widow Cane’s death, the whole town was abuzz. With everyone’s wanting to talk and a more than usual desire not to be noticed by Burton and his pit boys, representatives of each nationality and a few others had been asked to the secret meeting at Shady’s place. Chester Thornhill, one of Burton’s crew, had not been invited. But here he was, smack in the middle of it.

Wide-eyed, Chester sipped his drink as Velma T. Harkrader arrived. Soon after, Olaf and Greta Akkerson of Norway took their seats. The Akkersons were the driest couple in town. When they started munching on a few beer nuts, it was too much for Chester to swallow.

“What’s going on here, Shady?” Chester blustered as Casimir and Etta Cybulskis from Poland joined the growing crowd, their four-year-old daughter, Eva, in tow.

“Why, we’re having a discussion on prairie flora and fauna, in honor of the late Widow Cane.” Shady whipped out five glasses and filled them with sarsaparilla.

“Flora and who?”

“Fauna,” Shady replied without apology. “Did you know there are thirty-seven varieties of hydrangea in Crawford County alone?”

Little Eva stared at Chester as she took her first sip of the bubbly sarsaparilla. Then, being eye level with Jinx’s peephole, she peered right at him and giggled.

Chester banged his glass down on the table. “This is a bar, Shady, not a ladies’ tearoom.” He tossed a coin onto the table, nearly running into the Hungarian woman as he stormed out.

Jinx’s hiding spot was getting stuffy and his feet tingled from lack of circulation. But even after being spotted by Eva, he couldn’t take his eye away from the drama unfolding before him.

The Hungarian woman, her bracelets and beads jangling, took her place alone at the bar. Shady filled a shot glass for her and couldn’t help smiling. Never had there been such an array of people in his establishment. Some were regulars, unbeknownst to their wives, while others would normally sooner be caught dead than set foot across his threshold. But here they all were.

Sitting on the floor, Eva played with her set of colorful nesting dolls, removing one hollowed-out and brightly painted doll from inside the other, while everyone waited for someone to speak. Jinx breathed a sigh of relief. It looked like Mrs. Larkin wasn’t going to make it after all, but then the door burst open and Mrs. Larkin came in, wagging her finger. She hadn’t been invited either.

“Shady, I’ve a bone to pick with you. That hooligan you’ve got staying here—” She stopped, realizing that Shady’s saloon was full of people who she was fairly certain were not his usual crowd. “What’s going on here?”

Shady just whistled nervously and wiped out a few more whiskey glasses.

“Come on in, Eudora.” Hadley pulled up a chair for her at the Cybulskis’ table. “We’re just having a little town meeting, so I guess this pertains to you too.”

Mrs. Larkin was apparently too stunned to speak and quietly took her seat, clutching her handbag in her lap.