The Serial: Far From the Rowan Tree Day 53

Ronald held out his arms to take the sleeping baby. Together, we explored the little house and like two children, were enchanted

Adrian and Elmer were there too as they were both near at hand, it being too bad a day for working further afield. Everyone marvelled at how much Ronald had managed to pack in the car.

The three boys were perched high up in the back seat on top of everything like three little sparrows. Betty Jacobs, kind as ever, had made us sandwiches for the journey.

Nothing much was said but I noticed that her eyes were as moist as my own.

At last the emotional moment was over and we were off. The snow had stopped falling, much to our relief but the gravel road looked different with its new white covering.

Ronald drove more slowly than usual, not knowing what effect snow might have in these deep ruts. Also the car was well loaded down and we didn’t want to break any springs.

I sat back with Mahri-Louise in my arms and breathed a sigh of relief. At last we were on our way with the work all done.

Darkness

It began to snow again. We drove on into its confusing whiteness. It began to worry Ronald and me who, up until then, had had no time to worry about the weather.

Fortunately, after a while it stopped but by now the road in front of us and the prairies around us were taken over by darkness.

It was a strange experience, this steady moving on into the night, the old Chevrolet holding all the paraphernalia we possessed and our dearest treasures – the children, squabbling in the back, the baby in my arms.

The boys were not worrying at all. They were so sure father and mother knew where they were going and would shortly find another nest. But did we? Would we?

For what seemed a long time we went on through the night with no lights of human habitation visible anywhere.

Yet all the time I felt a light I could not see but knew awaited us at the other end. I started to sing and soon everyone was joining in.

One by one the children fell asleep and to the soothing steady drone of the engine, the swaying motion of the tin-can body that held together all that we had, I felt myself nodding off also.

It was midnight when we reached the outskirts of Edmonton. For some time the lights of the city had come closer and closer as if to say “Welcome to the city of dreams”.

I was sceptical of finding anywhere at this late hour but Ronald appeared more confident. As it turned out, it seemed as if he drove without a compass but we were dead on course.

We came to a collection of cabins on the edge of the highway – half a dozen at least. They stood, attractive shadows, each with its own pool of light radiating from a lamp above the door.

Surprised

Across the white gate leading into this small complex spanned a sign which said in large easily read letters “WELCOME TO JOE’S LITTLE ACRE”.

After midnight it may have been but the place didn’t look dead. We saw a young couple slip from a car and open one of the cabin doors.

We turned in through the gateway and were confronted by a cabin somewhat larger than the others. Over the door it said simply “JOE” and further down “PLEASE RING”, an arrow pointing to a bell.

Ronald drew the car to a halt and stepped out. Before he had time to reach the bell the door was opened by a tall man with a rugged face sporting a generous mouth. I liked his appearance. He had an open and kind face.

“You guys are sure late on the road,” he said but he didn’t sound surprised. “Come a long way?”

“Over 100 miles, east,” Ronald said adding, “Any possibility of getting a cabin for the night?” “Sure, sure just wait a moment until I get my keys.” Soon he was striding in front of us guiding us along the rough track that led to the furthest-away cabin. Joe slipped the key in the lock and the door opened easily.

“It’s all yours, folks,” he said and left us to it. He didn’t even ask for money in advance, which gave us a warm glow inside.

Because we had no credit rating, we had come to expect to have to pay for things when or before we got them.

Joe didn’t know us. We had driven in out of the night.

In this sort of situation, who knows, we could have kipped down for a few hours and then made off in the early hours of the morning to be in another state before anyone could catch up with us – British Columbia, Saskatchewan – another country even – America!

I remarked on the fact to Ronald. “Yes it’s good isn’t it,” he said. We didn’t need to say any more, knowing exactly how each other felt.

The boys, perched in the back of the car, uncomfortable as it was, were still fast asleep.

They had wakened momentarily when we stopped at Joe’s house but had fallen asleep again.

Cramped

I got out of the car. I felt stiff with sitting in a cramped position for so long. Household goods were all packed round my legs.

Ronald held out his arms to take the sleeping baby. Together, we explored the little house and like two children, were enchanted.

It was small but we found that everything we could possibly need was there – the luxury of a flushing toilet, a shower, electric cooker and a vacuum sweeper for the floor.

There were two bunk beds in one small bedroom and one double bed for us next door. There was even a cot lying against one wall ready to assemble should it be required.

Like children going to a new house or hotel we tried everything, especially the plumbing. The taps actually ran with hot and cold water.

The shower splashed down like warm summer rain. The toilet flushed with a noisy rush, music to our deprived ears. (More tomorrow.)