A Labor of the Land
Title: A Labor of the Land
Rating: K
Fandom/Pairing: Matewan; Elma Radnor, OC
Word Count: 4,159
Author’s Note: Written for the mary_mcdonnell Month of Love Challenge: lesser known Mary characters. I used a great deal of artistic license for this story - both in the timeline and backstory. I hope it fits somewhat well with other people’s visions of Elma.
Disclaimer: Matewan (1987) and the character of Elma Radnor belong to John Sayles and the Cinecom Entertainment Group. Names, locations, and historical facts herein were adapted from the film and from the Matewan Town website. No copyright infringement intended and no profits are being made from this story.
Stepping off the train in Matewan, Matthew Radnor breaths in the crisp fall air. The rainy season has already begun; he’d seen the rising Tug Forks River on the ride through the valley and knows flooding is already a concern for the people settled amidst the flood plain of Mingo County.
Matthew himself put aside those annual fears when he’d broke from local tradition and left home at nineteen to see if he could do something other than sweat below ground. His father had been disappointed.
Mining is a skilled labor. A last labor-of-the-land in a country where more and more jobs kept men shut indoors, pulling levers on machines. The men of Matewan are proud of their work. Only strong, adept men are allowed below ground, where each man is responsible, not only for his own life, but for the safety of every man with him. If any man fails to properly brace a shaft or loads a hole with too much gunpowder or creates a spark in the methane-filled space, every man in the mine may pay with their life.
It is this reality that brings Matthew Radnor back to the dusty streets and faded buildings of his hometown. He received word two days prior of the collapse of a main shaft at the Stone Mountain Coal Company. Not only had his own father been below ground at the time, but his best friend is also unaccounted for. Matthew knows there is little reason to hope, but he hasn’t returned simply to hold his mother’s hand. He has come to do what he can to dig out the men who shaped his childhood. Living or dead, it is the least he can do for them.
Walking down Main Street, Matthew can sense loss in the air. The town is ghostly silent. Every person up at the mine helping out or already at home in mourning. Eager to use his hands again, Matthew passes the turnoff leading to the company house he’d been raised in and begins climbing the mountain up to the coal mine.
It is a path he knows well. As a boy, he’d trained in the mines. Before he’d got his head full of books, Matthew had every intention of following his father’s footsteps below ground. He’d enjoyed the work, too. Hard though it was, Matthew found peace in the deafening darkness of the tunnels and the meticulous strain of the physical labor. He’d once looked forward to a proud life as a coal miner. But imagination and the growing stronghold of the autocratic Company had driven him away. He found his new place amidst the industrial bustle of Wheeling City.
Rounding the last bend to Shaft Number One, Matthew wonders if when he’d left his rented room above the mercantile between the former state capitol and the massive library the day before, it had been his final goodbye. The more the smell of dynamite singes his nostrils, the more Matthew feels he will never again come up for air.
ooOoo
Elma Williams has always been a quiet girl. The youngest of four, she’s learned to listen first and use her words sparingly and to greatest effect. She wants to use those words now; to scream at the top of her lungs until she hears a familiar answering call echoing up from the ground.
Working alongside her mother, carting fresh water to the men digging at the entrance of Shaft Number One, Elma is burning to claw and scratch at the dust and sharp rocks with her own hands. Every joy she’s ever known is buried under that rubble and her task, though important, feels meager and insufficient. She knows she can dig faster, harder, and with more vigor than any of the townsmen currently bent in labor. They’ve been at it two days. They are tired and losing hope. But Elma refuses to quit. She won’t give up until she sees her brothers and father again.
Of the twenty-five men below ground when the shaft collapsed, eleven have come out alive though badly injured. Four have been found dead. Ten are still somewhere below the rubble and Elma quietly whispers a prayer that they are trapped in an air pocket rather than buried beneath tons of rock.
When C.E. Lively Senior shows up with the makings of a modest lunch, Elma takes the distraction it provides to put down her ladle of water and pick up a shovel. Covered with soot, a cloth wrapped tightly around her upswept hair, Elma blends in between the men on either side of her and sets to work. The wooden handle is rough in her soft hands but she is used to hard work and glad to finally feel she is getting closer to her men.
It isn’t until every volunteer has rotated through their meal that Ida Williams realizes she hasn’t seen her daughter in over an hour. She had assumed Elma was somewhere along the lunch table, serving with the other ladies, but now she turns her searching eyes to the gaping hole in the mountainside. Ida knows her youngest child has a stubborn streak longer than the Tug Forks River and she also knows it’s gotten her in more trouble than not in her seventeen years. Elma’s determination has won her many battles at home - though the way her brothers adored her may have played a larger role in that success.
More worrisome for Ida, are the memories of Elma refusing to be denied a chance to do anything her brothers did. From climbing the tallest trees to going on weekend long camping trips in the mountains, Elma has always pushed herself farther and harder than the girls her age. Ida once half expected Elma to insist on working in the mines when she’d come of age. But her brothers had managed to convince her she was far more important at home - cooking them delicious meals to give them strength.
Ida had hoped this would secure her a good husband but Elma has yet to show any interest. Hal, the second Williams boy, once had a best friend who’d shown Elma favor. But he’d got it in his head to leave for the big city. Outside of her brothers, Matthew Radnor was the only boy for whom Ida has ever seen Elma truly smile.
Now, standing in the dust-filled air outside the collapsed mine, watching Elma furiously digging alongside the men, Ida feels the crushing weight of responsibility descend. Elma may not have given up hope but Ida knows better. Two days into a cave-in of this magnitude, she knows her men won’t be coming out alive. Only Ida and Elma are left of the Williams clan. How will they ever survive?
ooOoo
It is six days from when the town of Matewan was rocked by the massive collapse at Shaft Number One. Four days from when Matthew picked up an ax for the first time in six years. Less than twenty four hours from when the last miner’s battered body was dragged from under the dark coal.
The forest clearing that serves as a resting place for the people of Matewan is trembling with muffled sobs and whispered prayers. The preachers of the Freewill and Missionary churches stand vigil before fourteen freshly mounded graves.
The people of Matewan are proud, even in the face of death. There is no pinning blame for the accident that has taken so many lives. There is also no Company restitution for the families who have lost their only means of support. The people help one another to the extent they can but death comes to everyone in Matewan and more often than not it comes by way of coal.
A soulful, high-pitched voice begins rising from the congregation raising a hymn of deliverance to the grey sky. One by one, voices lift up to join the chorus, echoing out amongst the green trees and black hills to be carried down the rivers beyond. An anguished plea for mercy flowing out on the current, a cry to a God that is the only salvation for a town bound by sorrow.
Two voices among the crowd remain silent. Matthew Radnor has found his place once again amongst the people of Matewan but their characteristic resilience is still working its way back into his heart. After sending up a prayer for the soul of his father, Matthew returns his gaze to the despondent figure opposite him in the gathering of mourners.
Elma Williams stands tall in her neat black dress, her arm wrapped tightly around the smaller figure of her mother sobbing into a kerchief. From under her wide-brimmed hat, Elma’s eyes stay fixed on the four mounds of dirt she knows cover her father and brothers. She knows because she dressed their battered bodies for burial herself and refused to leave their side as neighbors helped carry them to the forest and laid them to rest in the cold ground.
Despite being spoiled by the love of her brothers, Elma is a practical young woman. She knows life must go on. She has to find a way to support her mother, whose resilient strength has seemed to seep out of her over the days spent digging for bodies at the mine. When taking requisite rests from her shovel to re-bandage her blistered and bloody palms, Elma had seen her mother’s slow deterioration, the terrified look in her pale green eyes. The Company will spare no mercy for the two women. They will be ousted from their home before the weeks end if they don’t leave on their own.
Elma knows she can marry. Though she’s never made the effort to flirt with boys, she is still young and pretty and confident some man in town will take her, even with a mother in tow. But standing before the graves of the only men she’s ever loved, Elma cannot imagine letting another man into her heart and she detests the idea of marrying to survive.
No, she will find a way. There are jobs in town, not many meant for a woman, but Elma can be persuasive. She can cook and clean and she is strong. Her brother, Hal, taught her the love of books and she is one of the smartest women in town. She doesn’t need a man, she simply needs a chance. She can take things from there.
ooOoo
The day after the funerals, Matthew makes his way back up the familiar trail to the office of the Stone Mountain Coal Company. He carries his lunch in a tin pail and within an hour, has negotiated to take his father’s place below ground. His name replaces his fathers on the papers for the Company house he had been born in and his signature marks his acceptance of the Company rules, covering everything from his compensation in Company scrip to adherence to behavioral norms in town. Matthew can’t shake the feeling he is signing away his life.
The attitude below ground is somber. It is the first day back to work since the accident and the air carries a mix of sorrow and relief. Seven days without work means seven days without pay and even with the recent reminder of their constant peril, the miners are glad to be back.
After the last bell sounds the end of the workday, Matthew takes his newly earned scrip to the Company store intent on purchasing new supplies and restocking his mother’s pantry. As he makes to open the door to the store, his gaze meets a pair of green eyes he is remarkably familiar with; not only from recent admiration but a youth spent delighting in their sparkle when he’d read a funny passage in a book or rolled with Hal down a hill for their amusement.
For her part, Elma barely notices who is standing in her way. The broad, soot-covered chest could belong to almost any man in town and Elma is not one to socialize when propriety doesn’t force the issue. But when the miner fails to fulfill his side of civility by moving aside for her, she is forced to lift her face and finds herself eye to eye with another ghost.
Her days helping at the cave-in had been filled with memories. The gentle brush of her father’s lips as he’d kissed her nose before bed each night. The awkward fingers of the youngest William’s boy, Nathanial, who had begged Ida to teach him to braid so he could plait Elma’s hair every morning before leaving for the mines. The strong arms of George, the oldest child, who had taught Elma to swim in Mate Creek, never letting go of her as she learned to pump her arms and legs to stay afloat. The goofy antics of Hal, who always had a trick up his sleeve or an acrobatic tumble to make Elma smile. The soothing voice of Matthew Radnor, Hal’s closest friend and a nearly constant presence in the Williams’ home, as he read chapter after chapter of adventure stories to little Elma sitting under the shade of an old oak tree.
Standing in the door of the local mercantile, staring into the light brown eyes she hadn’t seen since she was still considered a child, Elma now realizes it might be considered odd that she’d lumped Matthew Radnor with the memories of her now deceased kin. But in a way, Elma has considered Matthew dead as well. When he’d left Matewan six years prior, she’d been too young to understand that he might not be leaving forever. He had confessed all his dreams to her then - dreams of an education, dreams of traveling the country, dreams of someday writing a book like the ones he was always reading to her. Elma had wanted him to go as much as she had hated him for leaving.
Now here he was. Taller, broader, dirtier but still with that long nose and pale blonde hair that couldn’t be hidden even by the thick soot coating its strands. Elma realizes now that she shouldn’t have mistaken him for just any miner in town. She can see the fresh calluses forming on his palms that match her own. And his frame is still a bit too lanky for a man supposed to be used to swinging a heavy pickax every day.
No, Matthew must have just returned. And though she hadn’t noticed him in the week past, she feels certain that his arrival is due to the accident at the mine and that he has likely earned his calluses, like her, shoveling to save men’s lives. She also knows that, like her, his family hadn’t come out alive. John Radnor had been trapped with her men and his body now lies six feet under the forest floor.
A look of sorrow passes over her eyes and Matthew knows that she remembers him and, more than that, she recognizes a shared grief between them.
“Elma…” The name hangs in the air, but before Matthew can continue, a grunt comes from behind her, reminding them both they are still standing in the entrance to the store. Moving aside as Elma walks through the door, Matthew reaches forward to relieve her of a heavy sack of flour. “Please, let me help you on home?”
The question in his voice is a reflection of his uncertainty at being welcomed back in Elma’s graces. Hearing it, Elma is filled with an indignation that, after all these years, Matthew Radnor can waltz back into Matewan and fit into his old life with such ease when Elma’s own life is being turned upside down. Defying a deep yearning in her heart, Elma pulls the sack of flour back to her chest, pushes past Matthew and makes quick work up the street toward the house that won’t be her home much longer.
Matthew knows better than to follow after. Elma Williams is not a woman one pushes against her will. She’ll dig in her heels so deep not even a six-team of horses can get her to move. But he stands and watches her go, noting the straight back and strong pitch of her jaw. She is fighting something awful.
Matthew wishes he could have given his regrets for her family but knows the paltriness of those words. Elma wants more than apologies and remorse. She wants her brothers back, her life once more secure, perhaps even a close friend who once selfishly left her to pursue youthful dreams.
Long after Elma is out of sight, Matthew enters the Company store and begins gathering his goods. Lining up to fill out the ledger, Matthew’s thoughts are interrupted by a hard hand on his shoulder.
“Well, if it ain’t the day-dreaming Radnor back in the mines! Good t’have ya back son. Sorry ‘bout your old man.”
Matthew turns to see Robert Elkins, an old friend of his fathers, arms loaded with bags of beans and flour. “Thank you, Mr. Elkins.”
“No, no son, Robert’ll do just fine. You’re a miner now.” As if this is all the explanation needed for a sudden familiarity between the two men. “I seen you talk’n to that Elma Williams. You still sweet on her after all these years?”
Matthew is surprised by the blunt question but small towns do like to talk. “To be honest…Robert, I just thought I’d pay my respects. Her brother, Hal, was my closest friend once. Haven’t had a chance, what with the efforts up at the mine and gett’n things situated with mother, to do much reconnect’n.”
“Well, don’t you be surprised if Elma don’t reconnect much with you. She’s a quiet one, that gal. Pretty as can be but never had much of an eye for anyone other than those brothers o’ hers. With them gone now, can’t imagine what her and old Ida are gonna do to get by.”
“The Company won’t do anything to help?” Matthew knows it is a ridiculous question. The Company has always been out for their own profit. They’d even pushed the miners to give up on the search at Shaft One after just three days, with seven men still lost. What are a few dead men when there is coal to be got out of the ground?
“Hah, that’d be the day!” Robert laughs but there is no smile on his face. “Those ladies are in God’s merciful hands now, I reck’n.” Seeing the anxiety on Matthew’s face, Robert adds, “Elma’s a tough girl. She’ll find a way, don’t you worry. She’s stubborn, that one.” Ending with another pat on Matthew’s shoulder, Robert hoists his purchases and leaves Matthew standing, once again, deep in thought.
ooOoo
On Matthew’s fifth day of work, he returns to the Company Office. This time on someone elses behalf. He’s spent three days contemplating the Williams women’s dilemma. He knows it isn’t his problem but he can’t shake the responsibility he feels. Or maybe it is just the desire to see those green eyes smile again.
Matthew had paid a visit to the Williams’ house on his second day but Elma was out doing washing at the creek. Or so Ida had explained. Her floundering, plus the recently hung linen on the line outside, gave Matthew the impression he’d been spotted coming up the road and perhaps was an unwelcome guest. He isn’t quite sure why Elma would be avoiding him, other than being a reminder of what she has lost, but it isn’t going to stop him from helping out however he can.
He’s asked a few questions around the mine and spoken to Mayor McCoy. Now he finds himself putting forth a proposition to the Company Superintendent. There is an old two-story house just at the foot of the mountain. Owned by the Company and used to board visiting Company Men, the house has seen better days. Occasionally, a woman is paid to go in and clean and cook when visitors are there, but generally the house remains empty and in disrepair.
Matthew’s proposition is that the Company invests a little in the property to make it a proper Boarding House. They can still have primary claim to its beds when they have people to put up, but otherwise, they can rent out the rooms to the occasional town visitor and make a little profit. The real point he has to sell is who should run the House. The Superintendent has no reason to take his offered suggestion of Elma Radnor but he’s eager enough about the idea and sees no reason not to.
So it is settled. The Company offers the deal to Elma. She has a job and a roof over her head and they have a proper place to entertain guests. In the process, they look good for helping out a widow and her daughter. A fact the Company will hang their hat on for quite some time, as it is the closest they have ever come to being generous to the town of Matewan.
ooOoo
It is three months since Matthew returned to Mingo County. His body is bulkier, his nails perpetually black, his beloved books dusty on the shelves of his room. But he is happy. Happier than he’d imagined he could be when he’d first received the telegram that foreshadowed his father’s death.
Working in the mines is hard but Matthew has once again found peace in its rhythms. The town is quieter than he is used to, but it is becoming home. The people were quick to welcome him back, a long-lost son returned. His mother is good company and cooks far better meals than he’d eaten while living alone. And the time he isn’t below ground is spent at the new Boarding House, doing odd jobs to help Ida get the place in shape.
He’s technically working for Elma but it is Ida who he speaks to the most. She is the one who asked him to take on the jobs the women can’t do themselves. And she is the one who sits on the veranda and keeps him company as he nails and paints and replaces old shingles.
He sees Elma often enough. She works harder than he does, Matthew thinks. At first she rarely said more than hello but lately it seems her tasks match his own. Hanging linens when he’s out sawing new planks or scrubbing floors when he’s inside mending pipes. And as they work side-by-side, Elma talks just a little bit more. Comments on the weather or the mines or the upcoming town festival. Nothing too personal, nothing about when they knew each other from before. But it’s something, and it gives Matthew hope.
When he’s finished up his last task of the day and put his tools in the storage room, Matthew makes his way out the front door to find Elma sitting on the porch swing he’d installed the week before. She very nearly smiles when he catches her eye and Matthew is dazed by the soft curve of her rosy lips.
“Thank you, Mister Radnor.” She pauses and Matthew is momentarily disappointed that she still insists on the formality of his surname. “Thank you for everything. The work you’re doing and …well…everything,” she says with a wave of her hand that seems to encircle the entire property.
Her voice is soft and halting. She looks nervous and Matthew takes a moment to actually think about what she’s said and it dons on him that she somehow knows. She’s somehow found out that he had something to do with her getting this place.
He hadn’t wanted that to happen. Hadn’t wanted her to feel he was intruding or overstepping or, even worse, that he was trying to earn her favor. But she doesn’t look upset as she raises her green eyes to his brown and lets her smile widen across her face.
She seems quite content with the role he’s played and all his fears and insecurities vanish as her normally stoic face comes to life. Matthew simply nods his head, not knowing what to say or even sure he can speak. She appears to accept that and smiles just a little bit brighter.
“See you tomorrow, Matthew.”
Matthew can’t help the grin that splits his own face as he descends the stairs and sets off down the dirt road into the fading sun. He looks back once as he comes to his turn and can still see Elma sitting on the swing, swaying back and forth gently. Her chin lifted up so her face is bathed in the waning light of the sunset.
It’s probably ridiculous, but Matthew swears he can see a sparkle in her green eyes even from this distance. His gaze wonders over the house that is quickly becoming Elma’s home. He can only hope it might become his home one day too.