Sadie Pfiefer

 

Sadie Pfiefer
by Dave Wright

Nine-year-old Sadie Pfiefer is at her place in the cotton mill. It’s six a.m. A steam whistle shrieks. A single light bulb hanging over the hall dims as the colossal looming machine rumbles to life. The South Carolina heat has already invaded the textile factory. Flecks of cotton stick to Sadie’s hand as she pieces together the first broken thread of the day. She wipes the back of her hand on her dress, a rag that has been handed down to her by four older sisters.

Hundreds of bobbins spin like a parade of ballet dancers. She approaches a spindle that has lost its pirouette a few feet down the row. A strand of cotton thread hangs loose from the spool above it. Wisps of cotton flutter over the floor. The noise is deafening. As Sadie pulls the stalled bobbin from its place and pieces the thread together, the foreman rushes past her with a snort. She tries to hold her breath. He smells like Pappy—a rank combination of sweat, onions, and beer. They call him The Boar. He shouts at her friend, Anna who has just found her place at the end of the long hall. It is 6:05. Sadie strains to listen above the din of the machine.

“You’re late!” snarls The Boar. “I’m docking you half a day’s pay…and if it happens again, you’re sacked.”

Anna looks at the floor as she accepts her reprimand. She is a gangly girl two years older than Sadie. Her bare feet are large and dirty. With a pang of guilt Sadie glances down at her boots. Her older sister outgrew them a week earlier. Sadie can call them hers until her next growth spurt. It will be a long time before she admits they’re too small.

Half a day’s pay, thinks Sadie. What’s half of seventy-five cents? Too hard to figure. I know what half a dollar is, though. It’s fifty cents—two quarters. She moves to the next disabled bobbin and considers the twenty-five cent raise she was given two months after starting at the factory. She has told no one—not even Mammy. Why me? she asks herself. Maybe ‘cause I’m a fast learner with quick fingers. She looks at Anna again. She’s awkward with big hands. Maybe ‘cause I have the face of an angel—least that’s what Pappy says when he comes home late. Anna’s face is freckled and hard. Maybe it’s ‘cause I don’t say nothin’ when the smelly Boar touches me whenever no one’s lookin’. Anna gave The Boar a swat when he tried to touch her boobies. I know better ‘n to do that.

The whistle blows at eleven o’clock for lunch—a fifteen-minute break when the girls bolt for the bathroom, then to the stuffy break room. Sadie catches up with Anna and says, “I can wait. Let’s sit together.”

Sadie takes a seat on a bench at the far end of the wood-planked table and pulls a hard roll and a piece of cheese from the pocket of her skirt. “Why was ya’ late?” she asks as Anna sits down next to her.

“Had to help Momma get Daddy to the loo.”

“Can’t he git there by hisself?”

“Daddy’s paralyzed,” said Anna. “He used to work at the mill. He was tryin’ to fix one a them steam engines when somethin’ fell on him. He cain’t work no more.” Then a shadow passes over her face. “Momma’ll be sad when she finds out I won’t get full pay today.” Anna folds her skinny arms as if she were chilled.

“Ya’ gonna git a whuppin’?” asks Sadie.

Anna looks at her in surprise. “’Course not. Momma and Daddy know I do my best.”

“Best ain’t ever good ‘nough fo’ Pappy,” says Sadie. “I’d have a welt ‘cross my bottom size a Pappy’s belt if I come home short a pay.” Then she leans closer to Anna and whispers, “I gotta secret I ain’t told no one.”

She looks down the table full of girls concentrating on their lunches and returns her gaze to Anna. “They give me a dolla’ a day, ‘stead a three quarters like ever one else,” she says proudly. “But I still give Pappy his three quarters—then hide the otha’ one under a brick.” She straightens up and says, “I fixin’ to run off soon’s I can.”

“I could never leave Daddy or Momma,” says Anna. “They need me.”

Sadie lifts her roll to her mouth and is about to take a bite. “Ain’t you got no lunch today?”

Anna smiles, her cheeks pale and sallow. “Not today.”

Sadie tears her roll in half and offers a piece to Anna.

“You sure?” says Anna.

“Take it. We havin’ grits tonight,” says Sadie, “but I gotta get there early so’s the bowl ain’t empty afore it gits to me. Supper’s the only reason I likes to go home.”

Sadie takes a bite of roll and chews on it thoughtfully. “Don’t ya’ have other kids to help out?” she asks.

“I’m an only child,” says Anna, “so mostly we live on what I make.”

“Ha!” laughs Sadie. “They nine of us at our house—all girls. Pappy sends every one of us kids to the mill soon’s we turn eight and a half. Don’t your ma work?”

“She sews at the factory across town,” says Anna, “but she can only work a few hours a day since Daddy needs help all the time.”

“Too bad,” says Sadie. She nibbles thoughtfully at her cheese. “I hear you’s off at one o’clock to go to school for couple hours. Why you goin’ to school if you’s so poor?”

“Daddy says I hafta go. Says it’s the only way to get ahead. Says I could be a teacher someday.”

Sadie scoffs, then laughs loudly. “My pappy says only thing girl’s good fo’ is makin’ babies. Pappy keep on tryin’ to get a boy, but all he gits is us girls…Mammy says it’s God’s punishment for all his drinkin’.”

Sadie stares across the room and thinks, It’s punishment fo’ sumthin’ else. But she keeps the thought to herself.

Anna swallows the last of the roll. The whistle blows. She gets up to return to the looming machine.

Sadie gulps her cheese and reaches into her pocket. “Here. Take this quarter. Didn’t have time to hide it last night. Give it to yo’ daddy.”

Anna’s eyes brighten with appreciation. “Thanks, Sadie.”

Sadie wipes the crumbs from her mouth and says with a sad smile, “Wish I was you.”

[This is a fictitious story based on a photograph taken by Lewis Hine in the early 1900’s. After reading the story, I invite you to go to the link below. Compare the photograph to what came to mind when you read the story.]
https://www.artic.edu/artworks/23336/sadie-pfeifer-a-cotton-mill-spinner-lancaster-south-carolina

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