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The Holes We DigBy Andrew Stacey

The engine roars as Frank pushes the accelerator to the floor. Get thefuckout of

the way! he bellows out of the driver-side window while sitting on the horn. Rush houris not the time to need to get to the hospital.

Frank turns on his wipers as the rain starts to pick up. His knuckles whiten as he

grasps the wheel tighter. There is a pounding in his ears but he is too frantic to identify it.

A thousand thoughts race through his mind now, jumbled, incoherent. He cant focus. Hetries to think.Im going to the hospitalis the only grip on reality he has remaining.

As he runs another stop sign, his thoughts finally zero in on his daughter

Victoria. Shes so young; this cant happen. Not again. Frank honks again at a car thatdoesnt make a right-hand turn fast enough. His horn cuts through the air and rain as he

swerves around the obstacle, nearly clipping the mans rear fender. The pounding in his

ears persists. Frank takes a deep breath and tries to situate himself in this new reality.What day is today?

Today is Thursday, he says aloud, freely participating in the one sided

conversation.Where are you?

On Arlington Street.

Good. Now where is Victoria?

She should be at home, safe!Yes, but where is she?

At the hospital; I dont know, something about a car accident.

He always warned her about driving with that boyfriend of hers. Frank nevercared for him. His stomach curls whenever Victoria runs out of the house and jumps in

the car with him. Frank cringes as he plays the accident out in his mind. He can see his

daughters face engulfed in horror as she braces for impact; two mangled vehicles

creating a grave of twisted metal for his innocent daughter. I hope she was wearing her

seatbelt.

He recalls the phone call he received nearly twenty minutes ago, the impersonal,

clinically calm voice telling him his daughter was in an accident. Shes in criticalcondition, is all the nurse would tell him. Frank shudders as he imagines his poor little

girl laying in a hospital bed, plugged with wires and tubes of all kinds, fluids coming and

going, surrounded by doctors shrouded in facemasks staring coldly down at her. Aloneand hurt, she stares back at the masked men who only look to each other and shake their

heads. For the second time in his life, Frank rushes through traffic to spend with a loved

one what may be their final moments.Ten years ago, Frank watched as his wife, Margaret, gave into cancer. Here he

was, ten years later, rushing to the same hospital. Frank remembered sitting at his wifesbedside after work, night after night, unable to help the first love of his life. The best he

could do was hold her hand as the cancer slowly took her. Victoria was only five then,but he now imagined her in that same pitiful position, weak and debilitated. He could not

bear his little girls life wasting away while he raced through traffic, speeding ever faster

as the bleeps of Victorias MRI machine slowed and then finally ceased. Frank was notwilling to let go of his daughter. He was not willing to lose the best thing in his life.

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He chuckled uneasily and with a tear in his eye. Funny how a parent alwaysexpects the worst, how the unbearable and unimaginable seem the most likely , he

thought. As the knot in his throat grew and his eyes began to well, he reassured himselfof Victorias health. He tells himself that Victoria is fine, probably chatting with the

nurses, a few bruises here and there. She is her bright, beautiful self with that little hint of

mischief in her eye, laughing at the thought of her poor father coming in all worked upover nothing. Yes, Im sure she is just fine. She must be, he utters, not taking notice of

the crack in his voice.

Frank swerves into the Emergency Room entrance, tires screeching. Before thetruck even comes to a complete stop, Frank explodes from the driver-side and sprints

towards the automatic double doors of the hospital, ignoring the smell of burning rubber.

The pounding in his ears only increases as he approaches the ER waiting room. He

whispers a prayer to himself and God before he reaches the front desk. It is then herealizes, heaving and unable to speak, the pounding in his ears is his heart.

* * *

Frank Gavin lives for his family; he works for his family; he mines for his family.

The Pewterfield coal mine is all hes known; it is his world. The mine is the lifeblood ofCainsforda small mining colony thirty miles outside of Pittsburgh. For nearly two

decades now, Frank has made those dark shafts and tunnels his place of business, pulling

coal from deep within the earth.

When five oclock rolled around on that Thursday afternoon, Frank saw it as justanother day coming to an end. He had gotten the call from HQ to pack it in and, with the

rest of the crew, made his way to the surface elevator. Six other men accompanied Frank

up the main shaft to the surface, a trip that took a little over six minutes.Hey Frank, you comin out with us tonight to The Workshop? Its game one of

the playoffs, David Grale asked, a tall, gawky man with an eternally sunny disposition.

The Workshop was one of the many pubs in town, and earned its name due to the factthat nearly anyone who walked in walked out hammered. A testament to the busty, barely

legal waitresses and bartenders it employed.

Nah, after this week I think Ill stay home with the kid, if shell have me, Franksaid, as he peered at his friend with hard, light brown eyes which shown brightly through

his rather shadowy countenance. Like all of his co-workers, Frank had a perpetually dirty

appearance due to the accumulation of coal dust over the yearsa distinction in the

appearance of miners.Good luck. You know, Ive got two teenage girls and Im lucky if they so much

as give me a nod every once in a while.

Yeah. Frank lowered his gaze to the rusted grated flooring of the serviceelevator. The air smells of oil and grease mixing with the earthy odor of the shaft walls.

The elevator motor hums. He kept his silence for the remainder of the ride out of

darkness, not taking part in the repartee and off-handed comments his co-workersenjoyed.

Once on the surface, the October sun brushed the sky with shades of orange and

washed the earth in a glow as it began its descent into the horizon. The maples and oaks

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on the perimeter of Pewterfield already boasted their brilliant foliage, creating a collage

of autumn beauty. The grounds of the mine, however, were black, barren and lifeless.

Then, just as Frank stepped out of the elevator, looking forward to his drive home,the radio which hung from his utility belt crackled to life. Gavin! Report to HQ before

you leave.

Hmm, sounds like a good time. Im jealous, David laughed. He slapped Franksshoulder, a black cloud of dust rose from the impact.

Thanks for the concern, Dave. Dempseys got some bug up his ass over some

damn thing. No worries. He shrugged and started in the direction of the main office.I still wouldnt want to be you! David yelled, hoping to get a response and

cheer up his believed friend with some jostling. Frank just kept walking, not turning to

return a jibe. He just muttered under his breath, Me either.

Entering the main office at HQ, Frank was met by the stench of stale coffee andbody odor. A sloppy looking man swiveled around in a chair to meet Frank. Grady

Dempsey was the senior administrator at Pewterfield Coal Fields, a large man with a

demeanor to match his sour hygiene.

You were five minutes late today. Whats the excuse? he sneered from behind afull, graying beard that added to the roundness of his face. Grady Dempsey was a man

who made his presence known, and malignantly so. His sheer size, tipping the scales at atleast three hundred seventy-five pounds, and well over six foot, made him a character to

contend with, especially in close quarters. It was usually considered dangerous to linger

near the man for fear of being pushed to the ground if he happened to turn abruptly. This

happened quite often. Too often. He was also the type to add physical motivation to hisorders, never missing an opportunity to add a slap or a push to get you on your way.

When discussed by the miners, the word of choice to describe the man was usually

prick.Just one of those days boss. Traffic, you

No, I dont know. After so many years with us, I would expect a veteran such as

yourself to know our protocol. Six A.M. sharp youre here for briefing. No bullshit.Understood? he asked while lifting himself from his chair, which seemed to just

materialize as if it were an egg he had just laid. He positioned himself in front of Frank

and crossed two tree trunk-like arms over his massive chest. He stood there for a momentstaring at Frank with intense brown eyes, waiting for the result of his scare tactic. Frank

took a step back towards the door, more from disgust of the odor emanating from the man

than fear of him.

Look, shit happens. Ive been here for nearly twenty years and have shown upeveryday. I dont think five minutes is a crime.

Im not askin you. Im tellin you. Be here on time, or dont fuckin come, he

said, jabbing an oversized finger into Franks shoulder. Frank was unaffected by the prod,but couldnt stop his shoulder from swinging back. The man was powerful, no doubt.

Frank then stared back at the man who was a full head taller, fists balled at his sides,

heart increasing its pace, holding his breath. Thickly built and barrel-chested, Franklooked larger than he was. If it werent for his rather low hanging brow and shoulders,

Frank Gavin would not appear to be a man to meet in a dark alley. What? You got

somethin to say? Go ahead. Say one word and Ill dock your pay for insubordination,

the large man said with a twitch at the corners of his mouth.

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Frank released a long, whistling breath through his nose, his fists losing their

tension. He then reluctantly sighed, Yeah boss, it wont happen again.

On his way home, Franks shoulders hung just a little bit lower. As he made hisway down the winding streets leaving the coal fields, a familiar knot grew in his chest.

He took a deep breath and relaxed in the drivers seat, loosening his white knuckled grip

on the wheel and letting up on the gas. He put the window down to allow the crispOctober air to blow through his mop of thick, dark brown hair. His composure was kept,

but the knot remained unmoved.

Fifteen minutes later, Frank pulled his red Bronco into the driveway of his small,two bedroom home. He sauntered up the front walk, taking his time. He paused at the

door, took a deep breath, and tried his best at a wholehearted smile before entering. He

walked in to the sound of a television turned up too loud, a radio blaring, and the intense

smell of scented candlesvanilla. Victorias backpack was on the floor, leaning againstthe side of the couch, her few books strewn across the coffee table, her shoes thrown to

the far corner of the small living room, as usual. From the doorway, Frank could only see

the back of the couch, but could easily make out the four legs hanging over the arm.

Frank crossed the threshold to the couch and reached over to grab the boy whowas so comfortable on top of his daughter. Effortlessly, Frank flung his daughters

boyfriend from the couch to the wall. What the fuck! her boyfriend squealed in mid air,before landing with a thud.

Ignoring his daughters high pitched objections, Frank glared at the skinny young

man on the floor, I believe visiting hours are over for today, Brian. Get out of my

house. Despite the situation, Frank was entirely calm; in fact, he took pleasure inthrowing the boy across the room. Brian picked himself up off the floor and ran out of the

house in a huff, to his car, which he so cleverly parked across the street.

Victoria still kneeled on the couch, leaning over the back. Her mouth wasmomentarily agape before she began coldly, Youre home early, Frank.

Frank didnt pay much attention to his daughters icy tone. Nice to see you too,

darling. How was your day at school? Frank asked, an ounce of sarcasm in his voice.Peachy

Excellent. Frank let out a sigh of exhaustion. Well, since youre not doing

anything now, you can clean this mess up, he said, looking around the room. This isreally not what I expect to come home to.

How would you know what to expect? Youre never here. This is like what, the

first time Ive seen you in like three days? Victoria stepped off the couch and crossed

her arms in defiance. And why do you have to treat him like that? Whatd he do to you,Frank?

He who? Oh, you mean Numb-nuts? I told you, that kid is no good. I dont want

you around him. And you know my rough work schedule. If I didnt need to support youI wouldnt work so hard. And what did I tell you about calling me Frank?

Well he is my boyfriend. Hes around more than you are, she said under her

breath as she looked away from her father.What was that? The thought of what she just said made his blood boil slightly.

He didnt know what implication infuriated him more; the stab at him for not being

around or the fact that Numb-nuts was.

Nothing.

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Care to say that again, Frank said as he took a step towards his daughter, eyes

narrowed. I didnt quite catch it the first time. There was a harshness to his voice.

No, she said impishly, shying away from her fathers bullish presence.What are you doing tonight? asked Frank rather gruffly.

Im going out to meet Brian later. There was a quizzical look on her face. It was

unlike her father to ask of her plans.Oh no youre not. Not after what I just came home to. Youre staying in tonight.

What the hell is your problem? We werent doing anything wrong! Hes my

boyfriend for Christs sake!And hes not allowed in my house. I told you that, he said matter-of-factly.

Youre too young to be dating anyway. Besides, its a school night.

Im fifteen! she shrieked, her arms flailing, green eyes burning.

And hes eighteen! Frank could feel his heart begin to quicken. Lately,arguments like this were a habit. It didnt usually take much to spark it, but when the

argument began, it usually burned fiercely.

God! Cant I get any privacy in my own house? Why dont you trust me? Youre

like a fucking Nazi! She trotted around the living room dispensing her usual contentionson her fathers fascist authority.

Hey! Watch your mouth! And last time I checked, I pay the bills here. When youhave your own place, you can do whatever the hell it is that you want. Got it, kiddo? In

their sparring, Frank felt the knot in his chest growing again, slowly. It would pain him

deeply to be so mad at her, especially when she looked so much like her mother. Victoria

had the same eyes as her mother; an intense green that showed bright in any light, andthat would burn furiously when enraged. Frank even remembered sleeping next to the

same silky, chestnut hair when Margaret was alive. It was all he could manage to see

those blazing eyes turn on him.Why cant you just leave me alone?!

Because Child Services would take you away and Id lose my tax break, Frank

said wryly. Victoria wasnt having it. She stood before her father, eyes burning and handstensed.

Oh sure you could, just like you left mom to die alone in some hospital bed. You

left her alone,Dad.Frank wasnt ready for such a knockout punch. His mind went reeling. Wounded,

he reacted like a cornered animal. Dont you ever, ever, bring your mother up to me like

that againever! He looked at her then, wondering if he had it in him to reach out and

crush her like he wanted to. He didnt. I cant even look at you. Go to your room. Getout of my sight.

Tears welled in her eyes then. Fine! Ill just leave then! she shrieked as she

scurried for her shoes. Frank felt himself losing control of his temper and his life. Hesearched for the words that would prevent her from walking out the door. Nothing came.

He wasnt sure if he would have even spoken had he known what to say. He watched as

the last woman in his life darted out the front door. Frank remained standing in themiddle of his living room, growling to himself.

She knew better than to use her mother as a weapon. It was dirty, but she was

right. When Victoria was only three years old, Margaret was diagnosed with an

aggressive case of cervical cancer. It moved through her body quickly, infecting her

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kidneys and liver before moving to her lungs. She went through a session of chemo but

the cancer generated too quickly. Eventually, Margarets condition worsened to the point

where she needed around-the-clock care and couldnt stay at home. She continued tofight the cancer for seven more months after moving out of the house, laying in a hospital

bed. She was twenty-eight years old.

Frank watched as his wife succumbed to the cancer eating away at her insides.The vibrant young woman he knew wasted away until she was merely a shell of the

woman he had loved since high school. Victoria was too young, only five, to remember

her father spending long hours by her mothers bed side every night. Still, he wasnt therewhen it would have mattered the most.

The care his wife was receiving was not free, and Frank was already pulling

double shifts at the mine. He just couldnt keep up with the hospital bills. When

Margarets prognosis went south, Frank started dipping out of work early. Dempseycaught him one day. I dont care where you have to go. There are still two hours on the

clock. If you leave, you leave your paycheck, too. Now get back on the line before I lose

my temper. Frank couldnt afford to lose his job; not with bills to pay; not with Victoria

to support. He went back to work and counted the seconds, praying for his wife to holdon. When he went to the hospital that night he found an empty bed.

He sat on the couch for hours, watching a black television screen, thinking. Hehadnt even realized he was sitting in the dark until the phone rang. Frank picked up the

phone frantically. Victoria?!

Hey buddy, whats goin on?

Oh, hey Dave. Frank said, unable to hide his disappointment. He could hear agreat ruckus in the background, sounds of cheers and numerous loud, slurred voices. The

game was going well.

Hey Frank, listen, you gotta get down here. Half the guys from the mine cameout. Its a fuckin mad house down here. Were all getting completely sloshed. Its a

great time, cmon. Dave was clearly yelling, but the cheers in the background drowned

him out. You there Frank? Cmon, you have to come over. Even that prick Dempseyshowed up for a while before he stumbled out of here.

No thanks, Dave. Im kinda goin through some shit right now. Ill pass.

Okay, your call man. Hey, let me call you back real quick. Two bombshells justwalked in.

Frank put the phone back on the receiver and remained sitting in the dark. He

looked to the time displayed on the VCR. Seven thirty and still no sign of Victoria.Where is she, he thought. A pitter-patter sounded on the windows then, the beginning of arainstorm. He heard the blast of thunder far off. Frank gripped the couch with tense

fingers. He eyed the clock again. Then the phone rang, breaking through the sounds of

the gentle pitter-patter like a brick through a pane of glass.Dave, Im still not

Mr. Gavin?

Frank was caught off guard by the mature feminine voice. Yes?My name is Nurse Wright Mr. GavinIm calling from Suffolk County

Hospital.

* * *

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Daddy? murmurs Victoria, unable to open her eyes, pain racking her body. She

remembers vaguely where she is, although the memory is fragmented. The room is acacophony of voices, making it impossible to zero-in on just one. The sounds mesh

together like a net of indistinguishable vocal knots, trapping her within herself. She wants

to scream and cease the noise for a moment. When she attempts she cant bring muchmore than a hissing breath to pass her lips.

Where is he? Why isnt he here with me? She asks herself of her father. Fear had

set in long ago, when her body lay broken on the pavement as she looked up to see thered SUV speed off, its tail lights burning the hazy autumn air. Before she lost

consciousness then, her thoughts dwelt on her fatherwhere are you? Help me!I needyou.

She only vaguely remembered her father before her mother passed. They werecloser then. Victoria always thought it a shame that her and Franks relationship peaked

when she was only five. She had grown up watching her father shrink away from their

little family, the mine drawing him from home, consuming him. She didnt know why he

never saw, never noticed the girl who needed a father. He was too busy providing for herto be with her. She knew he was doing what he had to, but Victoria could never forgive

Frank for his well-intentioned abandonment.A father should know better.Victoria wonders if this is how her mother felt years ago, alone and scared. Her

loneliness in the dark is complete; the faceless voices the only comfort that surround her,

sharing in her misery. She listens for a while, trying to position them in a room she

cannot see. She begins to lose herself in the chatter of the voices when a touch to her lefthand brings her back. She opens her eyes slightly to see a frightened, disheveled man

standing over her, her hand in his. She looks at the man as his eyes scan her face in teary

horror.Dad? Victoria whispers, her voice hoarse and gritty. She examines her fathers

large, rough hand engulfing her own with satisfaction.

Im right here, kiddo, says Frank, holding back his obvious distress. Youscared me there, hun. Frank was searching for more words, but nothing was coming to

him. He was hoping that the tears that were welling in his eyes were enough.

They werent.Dad, I was so scared. Victoria began meekly, tears streaming down her face. I

was all alone. I wanted you to be here, but you werent here, an

Shhhh-shh-shh, baby its okay. Youre safe now. Im here. Im righthere.

Frank squeezes her hand as reassurance but lets go when she winces.No, she objects meagerly. She looks to Frank with wet cheeks and two soft eyes

and says, Thats all I ever wanted from you. Thats all. She begins sobbing again.

Thats allI ever wanted from you.Looking at his daughter, Frank let go of the tears he was holding back. Pulling up

a nearby chair, Frank sits familiarly by Victorias bedside and massages her hand with

his. Victoria rolls her head to the side to look at her father, not having the strength towipe the streaks from her face. Looking at him, he seemed to be in more pain than she

was. His tear soaked face, his wrinkled brow, the ugly, distorted shape his mouth took

his face was an exemplified model of misery. He does not meet her gaze, but rather looks

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at the floor. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, but the shutter that comes upon his

exhale gives away his vulnerability. Tear drops collect at his feet.

I remember sitting herein this very hospital, but, uh.I was holding yourmothers hand then. Victoria gently squeezes her fathers hand so as to say, Im

listening. Well, I never told you this, but, manages Frank. A weak smile appears on his

face but quickly vanishes, before your motherpassedI, uh, made her a promise. Ipromised her that I would always take care of you and that, um, Franks voice brakes.

He takes another breath and continues, and that I would give you enough love for the

both of us. Finishing the sentence is as much as Frank can bear. He wipes his eyes andsteadies himself once more. Andand Im sorry for not being there for you, Victoria. I,

uhI guess I fell short on the second part. Im so sorry.

Victorias lip quivered and she closed her eyes in disbelief. She had never seen

this part of her father prior to now. Before her was a man beaten down by years of laborand guilt. This is the closest she has ever felt to him; however, she could not embrace it.

Over the last ten years, Frank had created a distance between the two of them that was

possibly insurmountable. She looks at him again, watching his eyes. Why did you run

away from me? she asks as the tears subside, her hand squeezing his ever so gently.I dont know, baby. Frank lowers his head to meet her hand, which lays clasped

in his on the bed. His eyes are still welling.No, tell me she mutters. Speaking is getting to be too strenuous.

He looks up to meet her gaze, to tell the truth to her face. When your mother

died, II took refuge in working. Being around the house only hurt. When I was busy, I

forgot about the pain, thethe he searched for the right word, hole, the hole that wasin my heart, my soul. You look so much like your mother. Every time I look at you I see

her. I guess everything was just a reminder of what Margaret meant to me, and what I

lost.I just wanted you to see me; to know who I am. The whisper that is her voice

quivers. She closes her eyes again. Tired. She takes another breath and tries to start again.

I wanted a father You gave me everything I needed, but you.You dug those holesyourself. With that, Victorias eyes remain closed. She takes a deep breath and rolls her

head to the other side, still weakly clenching her fathers hand. Dad?

Yes honey? says Frank, trying to shake the impact of his daughters words.Stay with me? Im scared.

Ill be right here, baby. Ill be right here when you wake up. Im not going

anywhere.

Frank sits in the dark of his daughters room in his small, two bedroom home. He

sits on the edge of her bed and stares. His hands in his lap, shaking; tears soaking his

cheeks before dropping to his chest. His thoughts dwell on Margaret. He screams out inmisery, filling the room with an air of agony that few ever come to know. Between sobs

he utters, Oh my God. Margaret. Im so sorry. He raises his shaking hands to his face

in hopes that he can plug his flowing eyes. Im so sorryI let our baby die. Oh God. Ohmy GodI letyourbaby die. Why? Why God? He sobs uncontrollably. Whhhyyy!

The burst of force makes him collapse over onto the bed. There he lays crying,

looking around his now deceased daughters room. He doesnt remember the last time

hed been in her room. Looking around he thinks, She has grown up so much. Over her

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bed were magazine rip-outs of bands and singers he has never heard of. In her closet were

clothes hes never seen her wear, a far cry from the clothes he had dressed her in himself

when she was still a toddler. His baby had grown-up around him and he had missed thewhole thing.

Thinking about it makes tears rush from his eyes in a burst of emotion that chokes

him. The world around him crumbles. He feels like hes suffocating, the memoriessmothering him. The walls he painted a pale blue when she was seven; the knobs on her

dresser he fixed for her over and over; the spot on the carpet when she spilled a bottle of

her mothers nail polish when she was six; it all washes over him in a wave of sweet-tempered woe. He rolls over in pain. His stomach is a bottomless pit while his heart beats

so fast he thinks it might burst out of his chest.

Thats when he sees the frame turned facedown on her nightstand. It makes him

pause for a moment. He reaches out to grab it, sniffling. He turns it over, taking in theimage of him and Margaret holding an infant Victoria in their arms. This is the only

picture of all of them together he can remember. His lips tighten and purse as his eyes fill

with water again. He runs his hand over the faces in the picture. Oh, Im so sorry. Im so

sorry, he sobs. He kisses the picture and puts it to his chest, wrapping his arms around itin a bear-hug.

He leans back and gently weeps, Victorias words playing in his head. You dug

those holes yourself. The words run a constant loop in his mind. Shes right, he thinks.

Frank cannot believe his life has come to this. It was only hours ago that she asked him to

stay with her. He held her hand, not willing to let go, as if the small gesture bridged the

gap that had taken ten years to create. She slept and, after a while, so did he.Not even an hour later he woke to the long beep that told him his daughter was

gone. He tried desperately to wake her but she wouldnt. The doctors who rushed in tried

to revive her but suffered the same result. They tried to explain to Frank that she had bledout internally. There was too much damage to be helped. There was nothing they could

do. You dug those holes yourself.

Frank grabs at his head, picture still in hand, trying to stop the words fromswirling around his brain. How did this all happen?Aargh! Why wasnt I there...for both

of them? How did I fail? What is wrong with me?! Frank starts working himself into a

rage. He argues with himself, trying to sort out the many thoughts coursing through hismind. You should have been there! The rage he feels is turned inward, creating a solid

knot of contempt in his chest. It grows with each new accusation, putting an even greater

weight on his shoulders. Like Atlas he drops to his knees under the weight, his hands

clenching the carpet. His head becomes light. He rolls over onto his side, finding securityon the floor. He spends the rest of the night like this, staring at the chipped paint on the

baseboard.

The next morning, Frank slothfully lifts himself off of Victorias bedroom floor,not taking notice of the phone ringing. He looks at his watch. Seven oclock. Without

thinking he walks out of the house and gets in his truck, the phone still ringing. His

clothes are wrinkled and disheveled, his hair a mess. In a silent daze he backs out of thedriveway and continues down the street, no particular destination in mind. He doesnt

even know why hes driving, he just is. Frank rolls the windows down to let in the cool

air. He takes comfort in the habitual drive around town. For the moment he is at peace,

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his mind vacant of thought. He just focuses on his foot on the gas and his hands on the

wheel.

He pulls up to a stoplight, alongside is a worn-out Cadillac. The black finish isdull and worn through in some places; numerous dings and dents adorn the rear fender

and passenger side. As he comes to a stop, he sees an old man in the drivers seat tapping

his fingers on the wheel and bobbing his head. Frank gives the man a blank stare as helistens to the words of the song on the radio.But they never told you the price that you

payFor things you might have done. The man turns to Frank with a friendly smile and a

wave. Only the good die young. Upon hearing the words, Frank snarls like an animal atthe man and floors the gas peddle, not minding the red light. He continues on his way,

wishing there had been oncoming traffic.

As he speeds down a long, heavily wooded road, Frank realizes where he is. The

road only leads to one place. The treads of his tires toss leaves of gold and red into the airas he speeds past a reflective green sign that reads: Parking Authorized Personnel Only.

Frank recklessly swerves into the dirt and gravel parking lot, fish-tailing his Bronco. He

skids into a handicap parking space and puts the car in park.

Sitting in his truck outside of the northwest entrance, Frank is confronted by theheavy, chalky odor of coal. His hands fall from the wheel as he leans back into the

drivers seat. Why the hell did Ihmmpff, Frank wonders to himself with amusement.It wasnt really of any wonder to him. He has gotten up every morning and has come to

this place. The majority of his life thus far has been spent in the darkness of Pewterfield,

running away from promises and obligations that meant much more than a paycheck. He

couldnt help it. He is drawn to the black fields by the security its cavernous tunnels andshafts offer, a hideaway from the rest of the world.

A great breeze crosses the fields and sends a gust of sand and coal dust into

Franks face, waking him from his stupor. He covers his face, protecting his eyes fromthe onslaught of sand and coal particles. As soon as he closes his eyes he is bombarded

by images of his wife and daughter, glimpses of a life that left him behind; a life he will

never know again. The knot in his chest settles in once more as a reminder of his miseryand self-loathing.

As the wind subsides, Frank breathes deep with indignation. Lifting his head

slowly from his hands, he looks out to the main facility fifty-some yards away. WellImight as well put in for time-offsince Im here, he says somberly.

Frank walks up to HQs main office looking for Dempsey, but finds it empty. Hemust be in the mine. He makes his way towards the main surface elevator, passing a

number of signs that warn and caution against safety hazards. In twenty years Frankhasnt looked twice at them. He gets in the elevator, closes the accordion door, and

presses the down button. The cool autumn morning disappears as Frank descends into the

earth.Where the fuck have you been? was Franks greeting as the elevator made its

stop. The air was musty. Grady Dempsey and a small assembly of miners were going

over digging preparations for the day not far from the elevator. And have you lost yourmind? You know you cant be down here without all your gear. Gavin, what the fuck is

wrong with you? The large man was made to appear even bigger in the dim lighting of

the mine tunnels.

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Franks walks down the tunnel to meet the group of miners, shielding his eyes

from the glare of Dempseys hardhat mounted light. I came to tell you Im taking some

time off. Theres been adeath in the family. The last thing he wanted to do wasrecount last nights events, especially to Dempsey.

What? Dempsey scoffed. Funny, Gavin. He adjusted the light so it didnt

show directly into Franks eyes. You want to show up Dempsey looks at his watch,an hour and a half late, break regulation by comin down here without the proper gear,

and then tellme youre taking time off? Gavin, youre dreaming. I dont care what the

reason is. I told you yesterday, if youre late again Im docking your pay. The lightsmade shadows dance across Dempseys face, making him look sinister. Dempsey turns

his massive back to Frank and snaps his fingers at one of the miners. He turns back

towards Frank and pushes a shovel into his hands. If you want a paycheck at all, youre

goin to gear up and start workin now.Irritation starts to bubble under the surface and Franks composure weakens. Im

taking two weeks. Thats all. He holds the shovel out for Dempsey to take, but it gets

pushed back, slamming into his chest, by two fat hands.

I said now, Gavin, Dempsey growls, jaw clenched, teeth showing through theblack of his beard. He holds the shovel to Franks chest. Start digging!

His jaw drops as he processes each syllable.Dig. The word resonates deep withinFrank. Victorias voice rings out in his mind. A flash of his hand cradling hers. A

promise made and broken in a matter of heartbeats. A life lost. Franks eyes narrow and

his whole body tenses. With a roar, Frank tears the shovel away from Dempsey and

hurdles it down the long, dark tunnel. Dempsey moves in astonishment to grab Frank. Hisenormous hands close around Franks arms in an attempt to hold him. Are you fuckin

crazy, Gavin?

Frank tries to step away but his hands are like bear traps on his biceps. He wincesas Dempseys hands clamp tighter. The other miners stand and watch in amazement.

Franks heartbeat skyrockets. Dempsey spins Frank around, pushing him further into the

mine, his large chest heaving from the effort. Frank takes hold of Dempsey, watching ashis face shifts in the shadows. Frank digs his heels into the earthen floor and stops his

procession backwards.

With all the force he can muster, Frank pulls Dempsey with a grunt. At the lastmoment, Frank shifts all his weight to one side, allowing his boss to fly past him. Too

heavy to catch himself, Dempsey is sent crashing to the floor, his helmet tumbling down

the tunnel, clanking as it goes. Frank is drunk with rage as he walks over to Dempsey,

who is sprawled out in the dirt. He straddles him and lifts his rotund head up, each handgrasping a fold of his shirt. He lowers his head until their faces are inches apart. He can

smell the dirt, coal and sweat on the fat mans skin. Im done digging your fucking

holes, snarled Frank. He lifts his right fist into the air, ready to deliver a devastatingblow. Dempsey puts his hands up and cries out.

Frank! What the hell are you doing? cries a familiar voice from behind Frank.

Frank pauses and looks to see who it is, fist still hanging in the air. Turning inmy resignation, Dave. He turns his focus back to Dempsey.

Ive been calling you all morning. Frank, what the hell is going on? David asks,

stunned at what he is witnessing. Have you lost your mind?

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Staring at Dempsey, the knot in Franks chest pulsates. Ive lost everything

else. He lets his fist fall, connecting right in the center of Dempseys bulbous face. The

man convulses in pain, his hands shooting up to catch the torrent of blood that rushesfrom his nose. Frank lets him go and turns back towards the elevator, not saying a word.

The other miners stand and look at each other in disbelief as Frank steps into the elevator.

They watch in silence as the elevator disappears up the shaft, Dempsey writhing on theground in pain.

Frank stands with his eyes closed, chin to chest, listening to his heartbeat slow.

The knot in his chest loosens and seems to fall away, taking with it the burdensomeweight from his shoulders. He breathes in deeply, taking in the familiar odor and stale air

of the elevator shaft for the last time. He can see the faces of the two women he loved

most, looking at him with kind eyes. Mother and daughter together. So much time was

lost. He opens his eyes and looks up the dark shaft to the blinding light above. Fresh airfills the elevator as the morning sun bathes Frank in a warm glow. Covered in dirt, Frank

steps out into the cool air.Im sorry.