Staunton's IX- grinding it out

                                            Staunton's  IX

 

                                            Grinding it out

 

         The Mac Adams brothers were up early, getting ready for Ian’s first day on the job. They ate some bread and cheese and then walked down West Georgia Street to the job site. Jim made Ian’s introductions to the other Masons. Then, they picked up their trowels and mortar trays and got to work.

 

          The hours flew by. There is a rhythm to physical labor that although taxing to the body, is relaxing to the mind. Repetitive motions, and attention to detail cleared the mind from any other distractions.

 

         The lunch break found the lads sitting in the shade with their work mates, munching on sandwiches and drinking cool water. Beer was not allowed on a work site for safety reasons.

 

         “Did you hear they have found tracer gold up along the Fraser?” asked Spike McGee of the assembled gang of workers.

 

      “Aw, they always say that, Spike”  said Red O’Neil. “I have heard those rumors since the mini gold rush of the late fifties,

 

       “No, tis true” said Spike. “Noodles Johnson has a cousin who works in the assayer’s office. He told them that a registry of several ounces of gold  had shown up, found on a sandbar in the Fraser about twenty miles Northeast of here.

 

      Jim’s ear perked up at the talk of found gold. Not because he had any plans to prospect like the thousands of dreamers who would stream through lower Canada on their way to prospective gold fields. Jim was thinking along the lines of a good merchant. Prospectors would need shovel, picks, horses and provisions to survive in the wild regions of the Yukon and Northern Territories.

 

“Well, I will keep my ear to the ground about those gold finds,” said Spike McGee. “We better get back to work or Mr. Conners will send us all off to the north.

 

The men rose and set to their tasks with a will. The hotel was rising slowly. They were already laying brick on the second story of the structure. The carpenters were setting up to begin installing all of the framing and studs that would flesh out the new hotel.

 

After work, Jim and Ian stopped for some pub grub and a few beers at Gassy’s jacks. It was a pleasant way to recap their plans for the brick yard and end the day.

 

It was mid-September and the days were mild with warm breezes drifting in off of the Pacific. The walks to and from the job site were a pleasant way to enjoy the balmy weather. Their days were a calendar spin of ten-hour days on the work site, beers at Gassy Jacks and then a solid sleep before getting up and doing it all over again daily.

 

Any time they had on the weekends was spent digging the foundations for the Yard structures. Fortunately for the brothers, the soil there along the Fraser was soft from the frequent rains and the continual deposit of pine needles from the conifers around them. They dug with a will. They were only dropping down three feet to lay a good foundation. It would have been easier to have one of those new steam shovels carted in to do the work. But the cost would have been more than they wanted to spend. So, they employed ‘Hickory backhoes.” It was a name their British and Irish cousins had given to the stiff hickory-wood shovels that they used to dig the ditches and construction foundations. Their hands were already heavily callused from years of wielding stones, so the shovels slid back and forth in their hands like a pole sliding through grease.

 

They had also used their axes to good effect. The road in was getting wider and the store of cut wood, needed to fuel the kiln was growing weekly. The fire bricks for the kiln wouldn’t be delivered for a few months yet, so they had time to focus on the main structure. They also had to start thinking of a small stable and tool shed on the property, to house the draft horses they would need to deliver bricks and whatever tools that were needed.

 

Jim had arranged for the  Hastings lumber Mill  in Vancouver to cut and the deliver a series of wooden poles  and planks for the rafters and joists needed for the rising building. It cost more to have them delivered, but they just didn’t have the time to ferry the lumber in themselves. He had also asked the Iron Monger to construct one large and one smaller set of metal doors, with hinges. They would contain the heat in the brick kiln. It was a long list of materials needed and tasks to be done. But Jim and Ian had strong backs and were used to hard labor.

 

The following week after work, Jim decided to take Ian to Staunton’s for a few beers, He had told Ian of his run in with the loggers there, but figured it would be okay to go back now. 

 

They entered Staunton’s and sat at the bar. Jim waved to Barney Finnegan, “Do you think we could have a couple glasses of beer and some of that lovely Canadian Whiskey? “ he hollered.

 

“Aye, coming right up, Jim” said Barney. He brought the drinks over.

“This is my brother Ian,” said Jim to Barney. “ He is working with me on the Hotel Vancouver site. He will also be my partner in the Mac Adams Brothers brick yard that we will build up along the Fraser.”

 

“A pleasure to meet you, Ian,” said Barney. “Sure, you are welcome here at Staunton’s. “ They shook hands.

 

“Barney is a good friend, Ian,” He helped me out with that crazy logger a few weeks back.”

 

The brothers then talked about the new brick yard and the dozens of tasks they had yet to do. Jim told Ian of an idea he had for a power source.

“I remember dad talking about visiting wind mills in Holland,” said Jim. “The veins catch the wind and spin axles below. Th mechanical energy fuels their pumps. I wonder if we can build an iron rack and set it in the Fraser, just offshore. We could hang a water wheel with metal blades on the frame. The rushing river would spin the blades and turn and axel. With a few universal joints, we could channel the mechanical energy to fuel our crusher and pug mill machines. What do you think, Ian,” asked Jim.

 

“Sure, it sounds like a good idea, Jim.” Said Ian, thinking. “I have never seen anything like that before. But, what the heck. Let’s give it a try. If it doesn’t work, so what. We will try something else.”

 

“Sure, It’s a lot of work,” said Jim. “But no more so then when dad and his brothers started up the Brick Yard in Bristol. And we have all of dad’s experience behind us.”

 

“Aye, we do,” said Ian. I’ve no problem with the work, Jim. I just might like a day off from our work sometime in the next few weeks. I have a notion to ask Laura Sadler out for a horse ride and picnic up in Stanley Park.”

 

“Fair enough, Ian,” said Jim. “I’ve seen how the two of you are drawn like magnets to each other whenever we are in Lowry’s. Let set aside a day for you in the next two weeks.”

 

Just then, the saloon doors swung open and two very loud an inebriated loggers walked in. It was the pair who were with the clown Jim had laid out several weeks ago,

 

“Oh, shit, Ian” said Jim quietly. “It is two clowns who will soon be looking for trouble.”

 

Ian looked over at the loud loggers, and said quietly to Jim.” Let me handle this, Jim. Sure, I have dealt with fools like this before.”

 

Sure enough, the pair looked over at Ji and cursed loudly. “That is the son of bitch who beat up on Andy,” they said, “Let’s go have a talk with him.” They rose and walked over to the bar.

 

Ian Macadams slid off his stool and faced the two rascals.

“Is there something we can do for you lads?” he asked.

 

“Your brother hurt one of our mates. He won’t be back swinging an axe for months,” said the bearded logger. “We aim to talk to him about that.”

 

Ian though for a second, stepped forward with his right foot and delivered two lightning jabs to the man’s jaw. The logger’s head snapped back and he was momentarily startled.  Ian, not waiting for a recovery, planted his left foot and delivered a right cross that would have felled an ox. The man crumpled to his knees. Ian knew better than to wait. He hit the man with a round house right haymaker that would have =crushed a  charging bear. The man’s eyes rolled back in his head. He fell backward to the floor, out like a light and out for the night,

 

The second logger looked like he might consider joining the fray. But ,then he realized that he now had to deal with not just this nasty English fucker, but his even nastier brother at the bar. He raided his hands, palms out, and slowly backed away towards the door. He then turned and ran out into the night.

 

Ian returned to the bar, smiled at Brother jim and said ,” Do you think we can get another beer, Jim?”

 

Jim hollered down to Barney, “Two more , Barney.” When Barney delivered the fresh round Jim said ” What the hell, Barney? Do they have a sign-up sheet,up at the logging camp, to come in and fight with the Mac Adams brothers?”

 

“Sory about that, Jim,” said Barney, “I will send word to the logger’s camp that their men are not welcome at Staunton’s, until they learn to behave themselves. And the next round is on me.”

 

Jim looked over at Ian and said, “Sure lad, but you have a nice one two set up, in dealing with rascals.”

 

Ian sipped his beer. “Well, dad taught us well how to deal with rascals. He also taught us to never give them a chance and to hit them first. Here’s to dad,” said ian, and raised his glass. Jim joined him with a hearty “To Dad.” They finished their beer.

 

The brothers decided that they had had enough fun for the night and tomorrow was a work day. They waved to Barney and set out for home, where they slept the sleep of the just.

 

                                          -30-

                                  (1,781 words)

                              Joseph Xavier Martin