car, then lifted the heavy hem of her too-long dress and headed toward the exit, her heart slogging in her chest. She felt like she was watching herself from someplace else, in a dream or on a moving picture screen. Then she stepped off the train and covered her mouth, the sulfuric, rotten egg odor of burning culm confirming the awful truth. She had returned to Coal River.
After Albert died and her parents had taken her back home to Manhattan, she smelled the culm on her clothes for months, no matter how many times her mother washed them. For years, the stench of burning mine waste swirled through her nightmares, emanating from her pillowcase in the morning like a cloying, phantom perfume. Then one day it was gone, and she thought she’d never have to smell the wretched odor again.
Now, she tried not to gag, shaking her head when the baggage handler offered to take her suitcase. The other passengers milled about, carrying their luggage, waving and calling out to waiting friends and relatives. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to see over shoulders and backs, searching the crowd for Percy and Uncle Otis.
Two cars down, a group of men in worn jackets and work pants exited the train, their faces somber. The miners shouted at them to go back where they came from, and started throwing rocks and sticks in their direction. The police shoved the miners backward, yelling at them to simmer down. One of the miners broke through the line and started toward the train. Four police aimed their rifles at the rest of miners, while three others grabbed the escapee, pushed him to the ground, and wrestled his arms behind his back. Emma ducked and hurried toward the station, one hand on her hat, trying to remember where she saw her uncle. Suddenly, a strong hand closed over the handle of the suitcase and she turned, ready for a struggle. Percy smiled and pried the luggage from her grip. He tipped his top hat in her direction. His eyelashes were so light, they were nearly invisible, and his hair was such a bright shade of blond, it looked white.
“Hello, Emma,” he said. “I’m sorry you’ve returned to Coal River under such sad circumstances, but it’s so good to see you.”
She nodded once. “Percy,” she said.
Just then, a miner in a tattered coat broke through the police line and headed toward Uncle Otis, his face contorted with rage. A policeman caught him, wrapped an arm around his neck, and dragged him backward across the train platform. A second policeman hurried over to help, handcuffing the man’s wrists behind his back.
“What in the world is going on?” Emma said.
“Everyone is restless these days,” Percy said. “It’s the heat.”
“But why are the miners throwing rocks at those men?”
He glanced over his shoulder, as if noticing the disturbance for the first time. “Those men are new immigrants,” he said. “The miners think they’re here to take their jobs.” He extended his elbow, asking permission to escort her through the crowd. “Shall we?”
She lifted the hem of her skirt and reluctantly took his arm. “I suppose.”
“You look exactly the same,” he said. “That is, I mean to say, you look wonderful.”
She gave him a thin smile and searched the faces of those around her to avoid his probing eyes. No doubt he was surprised she was still so small in stature, despite the fact that nine years had passed since her last visit. She wondered how long it would be before he made fun of her for being so short. He ushered her through the crowd, using her suitcase to nudge people out of the way. Near the ticket window, Uncle Otis was talking with a policeman, his face red, his brow furrowed.
“Take down the names of anyone who gives you trouble!” he said.
“Yes, Mr. Shawcross,” the policeman said.
“Father,” Percy said. “Look who’s arrived.”
Uncle Otis smiled and opened his arms. “Welcome back, Emma,” he said. “I’m sorry about your parents, but it’s a pleasure to see