Blood Stained Wood

[4]

  Black clothes were delivered to Evangeline, and to no one else. There were a black dress and a black coat, all fine clothes. But what was she to do with these clothes? She certainly could not work in these clothes. She had not worn a dress since she was a small girl. She was a shantyman, not a rich, high-end lady. Evangeline wondered why she was delivered mourning clothes and no one else was. She did not know if she had the ability to talk to Taylor without screaming at him, so she would just have to figure it out the hard way.

It was a Sunday, and the boss was arriving today. Evangeline did not know what to call the boss, as she was never introduced to him. She did not even know his name, she had only known him as 'The Boss'.

She knew that she was finally going to meet the man that had ordered Tony be murdered.

"Tea?" Will had a steaming cup in his hand, and Evangeline gladly accepted.

Today was Tony's funeral, and she was ready to down as much tea as she was allowed.

The other shantymen were quiet as usual, but the camboose shanty had felt like a blanket of depression had settled over it. Everyone made themselves scarce and avoided encountering or even eye contact with her. She was, after all, the closest to Tony. They all dressed into whatever was closest to mourning clothes to pay their respects to Anthony Smith.

The sound of two horses and a sleigh slugging through the snow became louder and louder as the boss neared the shanty. Evangeline quickly downed her tea as if it was alcohol. She buttoned up her jacket and followed the shantymen outside to meet their boss: the dreaded company man.

She could not have felt more ridiculous going outside with a dress on, but it was what she was insisted on wearing. She still did not know why she had received such fine clothing, but she did not complain. Not today.

The shantymen formed a line outside, greeting the boss. Evangeline kept her head down. While she was anxious to finally meet their boss, she didn't want to face him. She didn't want to face anyone, and especially not him. Not the man she was so angry with, she could murder him. But the next three words that fell out of Taylor's mouth made it very troublesome to be angry at her boss, the head of the company.

"Welcome, Mr. Hart!"

A pit in her stomach dropped like she was falling off of a high building. She finally took her eyes off of the dirty snow, only to see her father in black furs and silks, exiting the horse-drawn sleigh proudly as if he wasn't the reason why Tony was dead.

"Evangeline, my girl, it has been too long!" Robert Hart beamed at his only child.

But she did not smile, not at this imposter. The father she knew was not a murderer, not the face of a dangerous logging company. He was a jolly man who occasionally took his daughter swimming. He would tell stories of the shanties at night to put her to sleep. The man in front of her was not her father, not anymore.

"I am not your girl, Robert." She would not call him father, she would not give him that satisfaction.

"Oh, Angie, cut your father some slack. You look dashing in those clothes!" Robert complimented, quickly brushing off Evangeline's degrading statement.

She desperately wanted to be in her old clothes. She wanted to lunge at him and strangle him and make him pay.

"What did Anthony do that made you kill him?" Evangeline demanded, walking towards her once known father.

"I beg your pardon?" Robert's face turned blank, void of any emotion. His false, not-so-warm warmth was now gone.

"Taylor practically admitted it last night, he sure didn't deny it. There was no job, you wanted him dead. So tell me, Robert Hart, what made you want to kill him?" Evangeline did not know where she got this strength from, just the other day she was a drowning mess.

"Entertain yourself with whatever thoughts you want, Evangeline. That goes for the rest of you lot, too. I had nothing to do with poor Anthony Smith's death, and if you think any differently you are a fool. Think what you want, but I will not tolerate you verbalizing those foolish thoughts."

All Evangeline could think at that moment was how much of a rich, cold, calculating man her father had become. Then again, maybe he was like this all along.

"Today we gather and pay our respects to Anthony Smith, friend to all of the shantymen. He was a hard worker, and far too young..."

Evangeline found it impossibly difficult to pay attention when her father made her stand alongside the company men. There she was, her father on her left and Taylor on the right. It was ironic, she had spent the whole duration of her work life cursing these company men, and now she was standing among them as if she were their friends--their equals.

"He distracted you, made you lazy," Robert whispered in his daughter's ear.

Evangeline had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from snarling at her father. She also wanted him to keep going, she wanted him to admit what he did.

"When you were little, I told you I didn't want you playing with boys," he continued, "Taylor reported he would see two teenagers sneaking off at night to the bush. There were only two teenagers in my shanty here, my daughter and Anthony."

She remembered those nights, snowball fights and rants about the company men. It was their way of keeping what little childhood they had left alive. Robert Hart was taking this completely out of proportion.

"Taylor said your performance quality decreased when you were around him, and that you constantly were. It was hard to separate you two. You would babble to each other and it would make you both less ethical. Everyone has a weak spot, even me. It is my job to exploit those weak spots and make you stronger. Especially since you will be working alongside me from now on. The first daughter to run the logging industry. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

"So I got rid of him. You would sympathize with him and you wouldn't work as hard as you could. I tried to fire him, but that didn't work. You were too insistent that he stayed, that he kept working. So I gave him a 'job' that would end this. I did you a favour, Angie."

If only she had let him go home that day. He would be out of work, but at least he would be alive and not about to be buried in the middle of nowhere. She should have let him go.

"This is the life of the shantymen, Angie. I wanted you to experience it before you experienced the life of the company men. You will have to learn to obey me, to not disrespect me like you did today. This is what I have to do. I had to get rid of him, Angie, you will understand one day. I have to get rid of quite a few of my men, and someday you will, too. You have learned the way of the shantymen, and now you will learn the way of the company men."

She wanted to slap him--run away from him--get away from him--but his arm was slung around her and his hand had an iron grip on her arm. She would not be going anywhere.

She had lived the life of a shantyman,

She had felt their pain.

But this life had come to an end,

And now she would be holding their reins.

Maybe she would make a difference once she did,

Or maybe not.

Maybe she was the imposter,

She would hold all their blood in the palm of her hands.

She wanted to believe she could save them,

Form a successful union.

She wanted to believe many things.

But she was no longer a child playing make-belief.

She would not have time for false hope.

She was a company man now.