Page 61 of Our Own Light
On a Saturday toward the end of June, Floyd and Ollie walked together to the company store. Ollie wanted the two of them to take a train to Charleston, have an adventure. Normally, Floyd would have resisted the urge to travel to the city, mostly because it was too much of a hassle, especially when it came to converting scrip over to United States currency. It was a pain in the rear end to figure out how much you’d need to change over at the company store in order to buy whatever it was you wanted to buy out there.
Complicating matters, the exchange rate wasn’t too good. If a miner was feeling bold (or foolish), he might want to borrow from his future self—to request a loan, of sorts, from his future paycheck, and exchange that money over so that he could spend it in the city. If a fella kept this up, he’d end up in debt. Floyd had seen it happen a few times. Coal companies were probably happy when it did. Miners who owed the company money couldn’t very well leave, could they? Luckily, Floyd had never needed to borrow money from his future self, even to cover necessities, which also happened to folks sometimes. He never borrowed for entertainment purposes neither, even taking it so far as to avoid changing scrip over entirely. He thought it best to stay away from all that. But...
Lord help him, how could he say no to spending time with Ollie? If Ollie wanted to explore the city, Floyd supposed he’d have to explore it, too.
Floyd and Ollie approached the counter where Charlie was reading a newspaper.
“Morning, Charlie,” Floyd said. “I need to change some scrip over.”
“You?!” Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow. “Now that’s new.” Floyd prepared himself to receive some sort of lecture, but instead, Charlie held up a finger and walked away toward the windows. After resting his hands on his hips, Charlie looked up like he was searching the sky. For what, Floyd didn’t know. After another few seconds of this, Charlie returned to the counter. “Strange. There ain’t no pigs flying out there.”
Floyd snorted. “You’re worse than Effie.”
Ollie arched an eyebrow. “Jeez, you weren’t exaggerating when you told me you never leave Rock Creek, were you?”
“Nope.” Floyd tossed a little cloth poke onto the counter. “In there’s twenty in scrip. How much is that in dollars?”
Charlie dumped the tin-colored coins out onto the counter to count them.
“Yep, twenty.” He opened the register and proceeded to count out paper bills. “That’ll earn you an even fifteen.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Ollie said in rapid succession. “Floyd, no, keep your scrip. I hadn’t realized you would lose that much money for the exchange. I have plenty to cover both of us.”
Charlie whistled. “Wow, that’s some friend you got there.”
Floyd ignored Charlie’s comment.
“I ain’t taking your money, Ollie.”
“You lose five dollars!” Ollie protested. “I’ve been told that’s nothing to sneeze at.”
Through a brief flash of envy, Floyd had to fight to keep a straight face. Of course Ollie been told, because Ollie wouldn’t know otherwise. He had come from money. He still had money. Sometimes, it felt like Ollie was a little boy playing pretend out here in the mines.
“Well, fortunately, I ain’t sick,” Floyd said before turning his attention back to Charlie and holding out his hand. “I’ll take the fifteen.”
Floyd heard Ollie let out an irritated huff beside him.
“What are you planning on buying?” Charlie asked.
“Probably a phonograph or whatever it is they got in the stores nowadays. We need a new listening device. Effie’s sick of my sad banjo playing.”
“Good luck to you. I know them things are expensive.”
“Fifteen should cover it. Ollie and me want to see a picture, too. Maybe I can pick up a new toy for Jo if there’s extra.”
Ollie tugged on Floyd’s sleeve. “Come on,” he said, voice rife with irritation. “I think the next train will arrive soon.”
Floyd shoved the empty cloth poke back in his pocket and folded up the bills.
“Have a nice Saturday, Charlie,” Floyd said, sliding the paper money into his wallet.
After that, Floyd and Oliver walked across town to catch the train. Floyd could still sense some tension between them. He knew Ollie wasn’t very happy with him for refusing his offer. But Floyd took care of his family his own self. If they needed a new listening device, he would be the one to buy it. Ollie could keep his money, maybe buy more of them fancy suits he liked so much.
Minutes into their train ride, Ollie still looked pretty mad—his brows furrowed slightly and a scowl on his face. Meanwhile, most of Floyd’s earlier upset had since faded away. Now, instead of feeling bitter about Ollie’s expensive suits, Floyd found himself thinking ’bout how nice Ollie looked in them. He wondered if a compliment might lift Ollie’s mood.
Floyd tapped Ollie’s foot with his own.
“I know what you can spend your money on,” Floyd said before leaning in close, hoping to sound playful. “How about another one of them fancy suits? I like seeing you in those.”