The Underdwelling

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Second month on the job at the Hobart Mine in Iron City they put Boyd on the night shift and he knew he would be going underground where the raw ore was. No more sweeping up and running errands and driving truck, working the rock pile until his back was filled with needles. Maybe it meant he’d passed the initiation and maybe it just meant that they were short-handed. Either way, he was glad. Because this was what it was about: going down into the tunnels. It was cold and damp and weird down there from what he’d heard, but if you wanted to get in the Union, then this was the path.

And with a kid on the way, he wanted that real bad.

Russo, the mine captain, told him about it, getting right in his face as was Russo’s way. Day before, as Boyd clocked out, Russo came right up, pressing him into a corner like he was horny and Boyd was available. “Hey, Boyd,” he said, “how do you like this fucking pull? You figure on sticking with it or you just passing the time?”

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