The Serial: Far From the Rowan Tree Day65

We had several things in common – we were young, lacked money, had young children and had, beyond the gardens, a busy road to contend with

Tanya said: “Thought you might be a little short of food seein’ as how you didn’t figure about the storm. You’ll get out today, I guess.” Long afterwards I wrote a poem remembering that first summer at the lake ...

Mention fireflies, I think of Nakamun; that Indian lake Beyond the reservation. Mention Nakamun, I think of fireflies sudden sparks in the dark, phosphorescent light, undreamed of experience thrilling the blood, conjuring possibilities, questions in the night. Mention fireflies and Nakamun I think of schools of strange fish in hazed light beneath blue, a hummingbirds backward flight, the loons eerie laughter over sunset’s red water, a white tent full of children asleep in the forest ... say firefly say Nakamun say firefly say Nakamun say firefly ... A spark in the dark of infinite possibility.

Once, at an even later date, after reading this poem out at a meeting, a lady rushed up to me at the end and said: “I was in Alberta in the 1950s and your poem brings it all back to me but for one thing. What about the bears?”

Well, I guess I had too many other distractions to worry about bears and all the time we were at Nakamun we didn’t actually see one.

Most weekends that summer found us at the lake. Sometimes it was difficult to get there due to lack of money to buy petrol, even although petrol was cheap in Canada.

One Friday we had absolutely no money but by this time we had a few friends. Ronald found the Canadian men difficult to get to know.

He didn’t have much in common with them and felt more akin to the Germans. It seemed as though they spoke the same language although they didn’t always in terms of speech.

Ted Shroers was one such friend. He hadn’t been in Alberta much longer than we had but he could speak understandable English.

He had a wife and family and worked for the Hudson Bay Company. His pay wasn’t good but it was regular and they were thrifty and managed. Ronald knew he could ask him for a loan.

On that particular Friday when we were completely broke we called at Ted’s house on the way to Nakamun. Ronald asked for five dollars. “Five dollars would do. It’s just for gas and a bit over in case we get stuck somewhere.”

Odd mixture

The houses in the street we now lived in, running along the top of the avenue we had just left, weren’t so picturesque. They were an odd mixture – some new, some old by Canadian standards, some low, some high and mostly made of wood. The people were from various backgrounds.

A few were Canadian but mostly they were of different nationalities. Some were recent immigrants like ourselves. It was a moving population with people always coming and going.

We had several things in common – mostly we were young, lacked money, had young children and had unfortunately, beyond the gardens, a busy road to contend with.

A mother I got to know well lived next door in a flat in a big wooden house. The house was owned by a Ukrainian couple whose children had grown and gone. They had divided it up into flats. They lived in one themselves and let the other two out. Carmen and her three children had come to live in the basement flat several months after we had moved into our house.

Her two boys, Tommy aged seven and Billy aged five, soon struck up an acquaintance with our boys.

Carmen was younger than me. She was 23. She was pretty with dark hair and soft Spanish eyes and had a neat figure that gave the lie to having had three children. All summer she wore smart blouses and figure-hugging shorts that couldn’t have got much shorter. Men turned twice to look at her.

Her boys were often in our garden so inevitably I got to know her. Occasionally she too would pop over for a coffee bringing her little girl Chillas with her.

One day not long after our first visit to the lake I confided to her that I was pregnant again. This unexpectedly released the predicament she was in. She told me her troubles.

“I got married to Elmer at 16 – had to – I was expecting Tommy and then I had another two. He bullied me and beat me up from time to time.

Unbearable

“I suppose it was a bit my fault as well. I must have been unbearable to live with at times. Eventually it got all too much and I took myself off to the high level bridge. Some guy who happened to be around stopped me from jumping off and then I was in the mental hospital for six months getting over a nervous breakdown. Mother looked after the kids.

“Elmer had gone off with someone else. I didn’t want him around anyway. For a while they couldn’t get me out of my depression. I had an awful job.

“They tried everything but I just didn’t care whether I lived or died. I wished I could die actually. I didn’t even care about the kids and Chillas was just a baby. Eventually they tried a treatment using insulin. I don’t know how it worked but it did. I began to care again, to bother how I looked and wanted to see my children.

“Everyday I got better. Mother was a tower of strength. I don’t know how I would have managed without her but it was all a bit much for her I think.

“She doesn’t keep too well so here I am now in a flat of my own with the kids. I love them now more than anything else on earth, but haven’t I gone and made a god-darn mess of things again.

“There’s no one to blame but myself. Dirk’s a big fellow and was nice to be with at the start, but he’s turning out like Elmer only worse.

“I think there’s a screw loose somewhere. Boy, can I pick em! This guy can get real violent at times. Cut my phone wires the other night.”

(More tomorrow.)