Chapter 61

Two Sides of a Coin

The wagon stopped at the drop point in the western mines. Dust was still falling off the wheels.

The old shed they used for handover sat beside the storehouse door, stuffy with sweat and dirt. Eren jumped down from the wagon bed, settled the hammer at the small of his back, and checked the crates once with the mine guards who'd come off the same wagon. The last wood box went in. Goods matched the sheet. He signed the bottom of the handover list.

A few mine guards sat on the long bench drinking water. Outside, another wagon of men waited to swap in. Eren loosened the collar of his ash-blue vest a little. Dust from the road still clung to the back of his hand. He didn't go to the water bucket. He went straight to the rough wood table.

West Sector squad leader Marco sat behind it. Around forty, face reddened by wind, lids heavy. A charcoal pencil was clipped behind his ear. He was turning a paper.

Eren stopped, let a breath settle, and spoke.

"Squad leader. I still have to get to the town hospital this afternoon," he said. "Want half a day. I'll swap a shift with someone."

Marco looked up. No surprise on his face.

"Again?"

Eren's knuckles dug into the table edge.

Marco slapped the paper down. The sound wasn't hard, but the men drinking water nearby went quiet.

"I'm not heartless. I signed you off the last few times. Count them yourself—how many trips these last few days?"

"I know you're short," Eren said. "But my friend's still in that bed. His family's been sitting it out over there. They're about done."

"I know," Marco said. "You're not wrong. Work's sitting here, though. What do you want me to do? You walk today, I have to dock you. You keep asking off after this, don't blame me if I move you somewhere else."

Eren's fingers on the table edge closed. The words came to his mouth and he swallowed them. Meals, rent, school, the hospital—every one of them was waiting on money.

He went still a moment and forced that breath back down.

"Fine. Dock it," he said, voice rough.

Marco watched him a while, then shook his head.

"Skip it this time," he said. "Don't be late tomorrow."

Eren nodded once and turned out of the shed. Wind came up the road, dust and a little Crystone powder in it. He walked fast. His boot soles made short sounds on the gravel.

By the time he reached the hospital, the corridor lamps had just come on. Long wood benches stood along the wall. By the window a family member sat holding a medicine jar, staring at nothing. Two people still stood at the settlement window. Herbal smell and lime hadn't left.

Lila was waiting outside the ward.

She had on the plant's gray cloth outer shirt, a ring of dark under her eyes. When she saw Eren come up the stairs she glanced into the ward first, then let the curtain down gently.

"You're here," she said. "I have to go. Late for night shift, the supervisor docks half a day."

Eren looked at her face.

"How long did you sleep last night?"

"Not much," Lila said, and even she could hear how thin it sounded. She twisted the talk back to business. "Little Meng woke twice today. Hurts bad, but he can still talk. Same as before—all that I'll-be-fine talk. Shoucheng's in there. Eyes are red too."

Eren nodded.

Lila passed him the old water pot. "Nurse'll remind you about the medicine. Doctor said don't let him turn tonight. Don't talk much in there. Let him rest."

She kept it short, but half a beat slower than usual, like every line had to be pulled out of the tiredness.

Eren took the pot. "Where's Nova?"

Lila paused. Her voice went lower. "Home. I didn't bring him today."

"What about his dinner?"

"I left rice by the stove this morning," Lila said. "He can heat it."

Eren looked up. "Couple days ago…"

Lila saw what he was about to ask and let out a breath. "All right. He did burn the pot a couple days ago. It'll be fine. He'll get it after a few more tries."

Eren was quiet a moment.

From behind the curtain came Meng Shoucheng's muffled cough, then a light sound from the bed frame. Lila looked back at once, made sure nobody was calling her, and turned again.

"I know you're worried," she said. "I really can't get back tonight."

"I'm just worried about fire…" Eren said.

"Water bucket's by the stove. He's scared now. He won't mess around."

Meng Shoucheng put half his face out through the curtain, saw the two of them in the doorway, and came out. He looked worse than the last two days, hem of his clothes in a wad, the dark under his eyes sitting heavy.

"Eren. You made it." He said, "Lila, you go. We've got it, him and me."

"All right." Lila turned for the stair.

Meng Shoucheng's hand was still on the curtain. He didn't let it fall. He looked once toward the far end of the corridor and spoke again.

"Foreman sent word this morning. Said he'd already asked about the injury claim. Might come by today."

A little light came into Lila's eyes. "There's news?"

Meng Shoucheng said, "I don't know how far it's gone."

Eren didn't pick it up. He only shifted the pot to the other hand.

Right then, footsteps came from the stair.

A man around forty came up. Ordinary height, burned dark. A checked shirt under the same cut of gray-green short jacket Shoucheng wore. The copper buckle on his old belt was worn bright; under the corridor lamp it caught the eye. Jean cuffs gone pale, work boots with dry mud. Half a cigarette behind one ear, a cowhide folder under one arm, a small paper packet in the other hand.

Nobody on the south loading crew called him by his name. They called him Buckle.

He wasn't close yet when Meng Shoucheng straightened.

"Brother Buckle."

The man saw them and slowed, glancing first toward the ward curtain.

"Little Meng awake?" His voice was coarse. "I came to see him."

"Just dropped off," Meng Shoucheng said.

The foreman nodded and held out the packet.

"Bought some pastry on the way. Give it to him when he can eat. You keep it if he can't." When he finished he looked at Eren and Lila.

Lila stepped half a pace in. "The work injury. Any word?"

The foreman nodded. He'd known she would ask.

"Asked. I went to the company. Paperwork's filed. It's in process."

Meng Shoucheng's shoulders, tight for days, eased a little.

"Good. That's good." He said it twice. "I was afraid nobody'd take it on."

"Somebody'll take it on." The foreman lifted a hand, patted his shoulder, and pulled the hand back quick. "We all work the same yard. Nobody wants to watch Little Meng like this. I filed the papers. I'll stay on the rest. You take care of this side."

This time Lila really did let the breath out.

"Told you—world can be this messy and there still have to be rules," she said. "We just heard the Guild President up on that platform talking work-injury protection. They can't turn around and act like they never said it."

"Company side—how long does that usually take?" Eren asked.

The foreman tucked the folder tighter under his arm. His free thumb rubbed once across the copper buckle.

"Still waiting on the company," he said. "We get the papers ready first. They have to run it up the line. If something's missing you resubmit, and that takes longer."

Eren asked again. "The hospital bills these next few days—can they advance a little?"

Meng Shoucheng heard that, and the look that had just eased went tight again.

The foreman coughed once.

"I'm working on it," he said. "Company said they have to…"

He stopped there.

Lila watched him. "Have to what?"

The foreman swallowed the rest. "Have to get the papers complete first. They aren't complete, nobody dares put money out. Don't rush. I'll push again. A case like Little Meng's—I've got a handle on it."

It sounded fine. It didn't give a day.

A very light sound came from inside the ward, like Meng Xiangyang shifting on the bed. Then his weak voice behind the curtain: "Brother Shoucheng—is that the foreman?"

Meng Shoucheng hurried the curtain open a slit. "Yeah. Foreman came to see you. Don't move."

The foreman came half a step closer but didn't lift the curtain. He only said through the cloth, "Little Meng, rest up. Don't worry about the yard."

Quiet a beat behind the curtain. Meng Xiangyang's voice had a scrap of a smile in it, light enough to break at a touch.

"Okay."

The foreman patted the wood post by the curtain, afraid that talking more would bother the injured man. He stepped back into the corridor and dropped his voice again.

"Shoucheng, you can't sit this forever either," he said. "Yard's been asking these two days. One man short and the loading crew can't make the lineup. People are filling in, but that's no way to go on. Your cousin comes first—sure. Your own job and pay, you can't drop those either."

The color went out of Meng Shoucheng's face a little more.

"I know," he said. "There's people who can sit with him here. If I still can't get away tomorrow, I'll talk to the crew about swapping a shift."

Lila glanced at Eren, then back at Meng Shoucheng. "Shoucheng, don't worry about the hospital. You've still got us."

Eren made a sound in his throat.

"Yeah. Don't lose the job. We'll need money again later."

The foreman nodded. "All right. You sort it."

Lila asked, "So on the injury, we just wait for the company?"

"Wait a bit," the foreman said. "I'll push again in a day or two. News comes, I'll send word."

He didn't stay. He told Meng Shoucheng one more thing and went downstairs. Meng Shoucheng walked him to the stair, and when he came back he was still holding that packet of pastry, like a scrap of something that had finally landed.

Lila looked at the light outside the window and finally remembered she still had night shift.

"I really have to go," she said. "Eren, stay through the dressing change, then see. Don't worry about Nova."

"I'll go back later and look in," Eren said.

Lila shook her head and went down in a hurry. Her steps were fast. Past the corner, they were gone.

Eren stood a while, then lifted the curtain and looked in. Meng Xiangyang had his eyes shut again, face white like it had been soaked in the broth. Meng Shoucheng sat back at the bedside and set the pastry on the stand.

"Don't worry," Eren said, low. "Foreman came. We wait like he said, for now."

Meng Shoucheng nodded. A little light caught in his eyes, and he dropped his head again quick.

When Eren stepped back out, someone at the settlement window was arguing a few words over a form. The clerk pushed the form back. "Family, get ready for what's next."

The words carried halfway down the corridor. Eren heard them.

He felt for his own coin pouch. It was already light enough to pinch between two fingers. The few Crystone coins inside touched, a very small sound.