Anywhere but Schuykill: Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour. 
In 1877, twenty Irish coal miners hanged for a terrorist conspiracy that never occurred. Anywhere But Schuylkill is the story of one who escaped, Mike Doyle, a teenager trying to keep his family alive during the worst depression the nation has ever faced. Banks and railroads are going under. Children are dying of hunger. The Reading Railroad has slashed wages and hired Pinkerton spies to infiltrate the miners’ union. And there is a sectarian war between rival gangs. But none of this compares with the threat at home.
EXCERPT
A skinny boy in in overalls entered the stable. He had pale blue eyes and a faint mustache, and wore a miner’s cap, tilted slightly to the side, as if he didn’t care what others thought about him. He walked right up to the mule next to Betz, fed him a carrot, and began stroking his muzzle. “Here ye go, Jonesy. This’ll cure what ails ye.” He spat a gob of brown tobacco juice into the stall and the mule promptly slurped it up. He spat another at Betz, who licked hers up, then started drinking from the trough.
The boy looked at Mike and extended his hand. “Tom Hurley, best driver in Shendo. Anyone tells ye otherwise, ye let me know. I’ll show him!”
Hesitating, Mike shook his hand. “I’m Mike Doyle. Best stableboy in Shendo. At least I intend to be.”
“Nothin’ to it. Just gotta treat ’em right. The trick with these mules is tobacco.” He reached in his pocket and handed Mike a chunk. “In case ye get into trouble with ’em later.”
He pulled a collar and blanket from the wall, tossed them over Jonesy’s back and led him outside. Mike followed with a bridle.
“People think they’re stubborn,” Tom said. “But they’re as smart as can be. They’ll pull three coal-carts, no problem, but soon as ye hook up a fourth, they’ll stop. Might even kick ye. They know when you’re makin’ ’em do somethin’ dangerous. But they’re faithful, too. Once saw a mule drag a man out of the rubble after the overburden collapsed on him.”
“You’ve worked in the pit?”
“Sure. Inside stable at Rainbow Coll’ry, in Saint Clair. Think Betz is skittish? Ye oughta see the inside mules. Poor bastards spend their entire lives underground. Never get to see the sunshine or nibble fresh grass. Once saw a pack of rats devour everything in their trough before they even poked their noses in.” He shuddered forcefully before continuing. “But if ye bring one of ‘em out in the sunshine, might as well take it home. Give it a pillow by the fire. It’ll never do another lick of work. Inside or out.”
Mike handed him a bridle, but he just rolled his eyes and pushed it away.
“But how’re ye gonna steer?”
Tom laughed. “Didn’t I say I was the best driver in Shendo?”
“Sorry, your honor.”
“Relax. Only grudge I bear is against someone who mistreats the animals, like Allen.”
“Who’s Allen?”
“Gregory Allen. Welsh boy. Always shows up last and gets stuck with Betz ’cause no one else wants her. Has no idea how to handle a mule. Look.”
He went back inside. Betz walked up to the gate and nuzzled him. When he ran his hand along her neck, she stiffened and shook her head violently. He pulled his hand away. There was a bloody wound on her neck. “That sonofabitch!” He spat a gob of tobacco at her feet which calmed her down. “That’s how he got the last stableboy fired.”
“Please, Tom. I don’t wanna get fired. Can’t ye take Betz today? Give her a chance to heal?”
“Not a chance, Doyle. Me and Jonesy are a team.” He pressed his face against Jonesy’s. They had the same silly smile, as if they were brothers. “Why don’t ye get Johnny Morris to take her. He’s good with females.”
“Take who?” said another boy, stepping into the stable. “A pretty new girl in town?”
“Now you’ve done it,” Tom whispered, jabbing Mike in the ribs with his elbow.
“Not a new girl?” The new boy wore a black vest and a felt derby. He was taller than Mike and Tom and looked like a grown man, except for the softness of his cheeks. “Someone’s taken Jack an’ left me with Betz?” He shot Mike a glance. “Who’s this guy?”
“That’s Doyle,” Tom said. “New stableboy. And Jack’s still here.”
“Really?” The boy’s eyes brightened. He walked up to Jack’s stall and stroked his sleek buckskin fur. “That’s a good boy.”
“Johnny Morris,” Tom whispered, wiggling his eyebrows. “Notice how his vest and hat match Jack’s fur?”
Mike nodded. “But what about Betz? How do I get Allen to stop whipping her?”
Morris yanked back his hand and thrust out his chest. “He uses a whip?”
“I don’t wanna get fired.” Mike pleaded. “Couldn’t ye take her today?
“Sorry, Doyle. What would the girls think if they saw me on that beat-up nag? But I’ll straighten that little bastard out for ye. There’s no excuse for whipping a mule. In the meantime, there’s liniment in here somewhere. Rub it on her twice a day. That’ll doctor her up quick.”
Tom walked toward the door. “Time’s a-wastin’, boys.”
“Wait,” Mike followed him outside. “If Miller sees you without reins, he’ll have a fit. Lemme put a halter on him. At least then we’re doing things according to Hoyle.”
“Rules are for suckers,” Tom said, as he hitched a cart to Jonesy. “Besides, what did Hoyle ever do for me?”
Mike clutched the halter to his body. “Kept ye employed, I reckon.”
“You sound like my wife.” Tom climbed onto the bumper of his cart, like a trick rider at a wild west show, and blew Mike a kiss. “Home by supper, dear.”
Buy Links:
Universal Buy Link: https://books2read.com/u/496Ag0
Historium Press: https://www.thehistoricalfictioncompany.com/it/michael-dunn
Michael Dunn writes Working-Class Fiction from the Not So Gilded Age. Anywhere But Schuylkill is the first in his Great Upheaval trilogy. A lifelong union activist, he has always been drawn to stories of the past, particularly those of regular working people, struggling to make a better life for themselves and their families.
Stories most people do not know, or have forgotten, because history is written by the victors, the robber barons and plutocrats, not the workers and immigrants. Yet their stories are among the most compelling in America. They resonate today because they are the stories of our own ancestors, because their passions and desires, struggles and tragedies, were so similar to our own.
When Michael Dunn is not writing historical fiction, he teaches high school, and writes about labor history and culture.
Author Links:
Website: https://michaeldunnauthor.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MikeDunnAuthor
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Michael.Dunn.Fiction
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Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Michael-Dunn/author/B0CJXGQYZ8
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/45063197.Michael_Dunn
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