No Small Victory

by Connie Brummel Crook

  The Keene boys were coming closer now. Angela and Bonnie backed off the bridge and onto the grass again. But Marianne stood still in the middle of the narrow bridge and eyed the boys warily.

  “Well if it isn’t the three Misses—Louse, Critter, and Cootie—coming for a swim!” shouted a loud boy with sandy hair flopping over his freckled nose. He wore a blue, silky bathing suit with a shirred waist. His chest was bare. Two others, with their dark brown hair lifting slightly in the breeze, were dressed the same.

  “Go back and swim in Rice Lake,” yelled Archie, pushing past his sister to stand beside Marianne. Slinky and then Tom pounded past Bonnie and Angela and halted right behind Archie and Marianne.

  “This here is our swimming hole,” said Slinky, his arms folded. He sauntered out in front of the Lang kids. “If you want us to share it, you better keep a civil tongue in your head! And go back to the other side of the river!”

  “Bug Town doesn’t own the river!” yelled one of the Keene boys. “Cootie Kids from Bug Town don’t own no river!”

  In one leap, Slinky bounded ahead and pushed the loudmouthed boy. But Slinky tottered and lost his balance. Into the deep river he shot with a mighty splash.

  Tom came next and threw a punch at the other boy, who dodged. Tom went flying into the deep water.

  Bonnie gasped.

  “Don’t worry,” said Angela. “They can all swim like fish. But they shouldn’t fight in the water. That can be dangerous.”

  “Yeah,” said Archie. “Look!” Two of them had jumped in after Slinky and were holding him underwater.

  Archie dove for the spot and pulled at the nearest boy who held Slinky.

  “Help! Help! Help!” screamed Angela. “They’re drowning Slinky!”

  Tom was now helping Archie, but the three Keene boys still had Slinky. They pulled him up once for air as he sputtered like a fountain, then pushed him under again.

  “Let him go, Henry!” yelled two Keene men from across the river. One man came running along the log bridge and dove right in—clothes and all. The boys let Slinky go. He’d gone limp. The man grabbed him and held his head above water while Archie and Tom swam alongside. Then they helped to push Slinky up to the other Keene man, who laid Slinky on his stomach on the bridge.

  Slinky coughed and choked and sputtered up water. At last, he sat up, looking pale, his eyes and nose running.

  “That was scary,” Bonnie said.

  “He’ll be fine. He can hold his breath a long time,” said Archie. “And it’s a good thing. I’d have been a goner.”

  The nasty boys had all swum to their own side and were surrounded by women who were shouting angrily at them. One had a huge, wooden, ladling spoon, and she used it to hit one boy across the back. It was probably her own son, Bonnie thought. It was almost funny.

  “Sorry,” said a Keene man. “The swimming spot is all yours—we won’t let any of them back in today.”

  Bonnie just shuddered. She didn’t even want to go swimming now.

  “That’ll be their punishment,” the man added. “They’ll get plenty of ribbing from the others, too. And they’ll just have to take it!”

  Bonnie didn’t think that was enough punishment.

  Tom, Archie, and Marianne had already jumped off the log bridge and into the water. Marianne held her nose as she hit the deep, dark water with a mighty splash.

  Slinky blew his nose with his left hand and wiped water out of his eyes with the back of his other hand. He sat there, still on the log bridge, and let his feet dangle in the water.

  “C’mon in, Bonnie,” said Marianne. “The water’s great. It’s so much easier to swim in deep water. It just holds you up. C’mon, Angela.”

  Angela smiled, stood up, and clasped her hands over her head. She cut the water with a perfect smooth dive. It was just like Angela to do everything perfectly. Was there anything she couldn’t do? Bonnie wondered.

  Bonnie sat down next to Slinky. They were alone on the bridge now. “Are you all right, Slinky?” she asked softly.

  “Sure,” he choked out in a hoarse voice.

  Across the river, the adults were packing up their dishes and collecting their noisy children. Bonnie looked over anxiously.

  “They won’t come back now,” said Slinky. “Not after their parents took them over there. Why don’t you go for a swim?”

  Bonnie hesitated and then mumbled, “I like to swim where I can touch the bottom.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Slinky. “I’ll get you if you need help.”

  “But don’t you need to rest some more?”

  “No. I’ll come back for you,” said Slinky. Then he stood and dove into the river. Children on both sides of the river watched as he swam, his arms cutting the water with smooth strokes. He silently sped up the river. He was showing off again. But Bonnie didn’t mind at all when he swam swiftly back and held out his hand to her.

  Gingerly, she slid off the log bridge and into the water. Angela had been right. It was easier swimming in deep water. Slinky kept right beside her, even when she turned around and headed for the bridge again.

  Then he crawled up on the bridge and held out his hand. Smiling up at him, Bonnie took it and then shivering, she grabbed her towel from the bridge.

  Archie suddenly rose from under the water and crawled up beside Bonnie and Slinky.

  “I’ve got news for you, Bonnie,” he said. “Marianne says her dad’s organizing a farewell for Mr. McDougall in the town hall. They’ll be introducing the new teacher also. There’ll be a real concert—with songs and recitations. The biggest event of all will be a spelling bee. And there’ll be kids competing from the schools around.”

  Bonnie turned to stare at Archie. “Really! Oh Archie! Are you sure? That’s grand! About the spelling bee, I mean.” She could hardly believe such an event would be happening. Then she grabbed her towel and, throwing it around herself, she said, “But maybe it’s just for the older kids, Archie.”

  “Actually, there’ll be a Junior and a Senior spelling bee.”

  “You’ll win, Bonnie,” said Slinky. “We’ll show those Keene kids. I bet you could even beat the Peterborough kids!”

  “It’s just the country schools,” said Archie. “But Keene will be one of them. They always accept a challenge.”

  “I’ll think about it,” said Bonnie, as casually as she could. As she looked over to the road she saw Dad driving his team and wagon across the bridge from the mill. He had a fresh load of chop. “I better go,” she said. “Bye, Archie. Bye, Slinky.”

  Bonnie ran off the bridge and bent to snatch her bag of clothes from the grass. Archie followed her. “Bonnie, wait! There’s more. I haven’t told you the best part yet. There’ll be a cash prize!”

  Bonnie spun around. A cash prize?

  “How much?” she asked breathlessly.

  “I’m not sure. But I’d say at least twenty-five cents. Maybe more,” Archie replied.

  “Small eggs are five cents a dozen. That could buy sixty small eggs or half that many big eggs!”

  “You got it!”

  Bonnie grinned widely at Archie and raced over to where her father was waiting.

  Clambering up onto the wagon seat, she plunked down beside Dad. A spelling bee! That was right up her alley! Of course, she’d get picked for the Junior competition! Mr. McDougall didn’t like her much, but he’d want his school to win. What luck! Maybe she’d be able to win some money yet. It wouldn’t be enough, but it would be a start!

  “Cat got your tongue?” Dad asked.

  Bonnie laughed.

  “No, Dad. I was just thinking about a spelling bee.” Then she told Dad all about it, but she didn’t mention the cash prize.

  She’d keep that hope to herself for now.

  TWENTY-TWO: THE SPELLING BEE

  The evening of June 29, 1937, was clear and bright. A breeze blew fresh and light through the auditorium in the old town hall as Bonnie and her mother stepped in through a side door. Dad was still tyin
g Duke up in the shed, but when he arrived, he would be surprised. The place was packed with folks from Keene, Lang, and surrounding areas. The community concert had already begun, so Bonnie and her mother stood at the door, looking for a place to sit. Mum held her new blue crocheted purse proudly under her arm while Bonnie smoothed down the front of her white cotton middy.

  Just then, Slinky jumped up from his seat near the front and joined Bonnie. “Our school has the front two rows,” he said. “Just follow me.”

  Bonnie looked up at her mother, who nodded. “Go on. I’ll wait here for Dad.”

  Bonnie hurried along after Slinky. He motioned her to sit in the second row. There was Archie, right by the aisle, and Angela and Marianne were next. Marianne squeezed over to make a place on the bench. Bonnie stepped along in front of Archie to sit next to Marianne, and then there was another wholesale slide down the row as Slinky plunked himself down next to Archie.

  “Whatever kept you?” Marianne whispered. “The Junior Spelling Bee comes right near the first. I was in a dither thinking you wouldn’t make it in time.”

  Bonnie just shook her head and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. She and Mum had tried hard to finish all the chores before Dad came in from the field, but there was still milking left to do. And it took them longer than most to get to the town hall because they’d come in the horse and buggy. There was no money to get the car going this spring.

  As everyone had expected, Mr. McDougall had chosen Bonnie to represent the school for the Junior competition. She would be competing against Keene and three other rural schools—Rice Lake, Indian River, and Westwood.

  Bonnie could feel her cheeks flushing as she waited. So much depended upon her winning the prize money. Please, God, she prayed silently. Help me win.

  Marianne’s sister Maribelle was belting out “Danny Boy” on the stage, accompanied by her mother on the piano. Both were dressed in purple chiffon with ruffles. But Bonnie wasn’t really listening or watching. She kept shifting in her seat and twisting the clean, white handkerchief her mother had stuffed into the pocket of her skirt. “You’ll do just fine, Bonnie. I know you will,” Marianne said, to calm her down.

  Now the audience was clapping loudly as Maribelle curtsied. She didn’t look one bit nervous. Bonnie cleared her throat and waited.

  Mr. Hubbs, smiling widely, stepped up to the lectern at the front of the stage. As master of ceremonies, he squinted at his list and opened his mouth to announce the next event. But the audience was still clapping and shouting, “Encore!”

  So Mr. Hubbs stepped aside to allow his daughter and wife to come back up on stage. This time, Maribelle launched into “The Bonnie, Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond.” That was a fine one to pick, thought Bonnie. She imagined herself, Bonnie, running off into the night to Loch Lomond because she’d lost the spelling bee. It almost made her wish she’d never been chosen for the competition.

  Bonnie clutched the edge of the bench and looked down at the floor, overwhelmed by nerves. No doubt she’d lose—right in front of her parents, her school and the whole community. Surely, she could have thought of a better way to earn some money.

  Finally, Maribelle was seated and Mr. Hubbs was at the lectern again. “And now the Junior Spelling Bee. Will all the contestants please come to the stage?”

  “Show them up, Bonnie!” Slinky said, a bit too loudly, as Bonnie gathered up her courage and made her way to the aisle. Bonnie flushed, hoping not too many had heard the cheer.

  Mr. Hubbs continued. “We are honoured this evening to have the well-known principal, Dr. Kenner, from Peterborough Collegiate and Vocational School, to adjudicate this competition. Dr. Kenner was already at our school to pick up the entrance examinations written by our graduating class so they can be marked by teachers chosen by the Ontario Ministry of Education. We’re very pleased that he’s agreed to stay with us a little longer to adjudicate both the Junior and the Senior spelling bees. The Junior includes Grades Four and under; the Senior, Grades Eight and under.”

  Dr. Kenner, dressed in a fine brown suit and yellow plaid tie, stepped up to the stage as the audience clapped. He shook hands with Mr. Hubbs.

  “It is indeed a great honour for me to be here this evening. I do see how interested your community must be in your school activities, as so many are here to participate tonight and to bid farewell to Mr. McDougall. Lang’s loss will be Peterborough’s gain when he continues his career in our fair city in September.” Then he looked down at the little brown spellers on the lectern.

  By now, two girls from the other side of the auditorium and one boy from the middle had come up on stage beside Bonnie. But Bonnie barely glanced at them. She twisted her handkerchief so hard, she felt as if it was going to rip in two. Then she looked down directly at the Lang kids in the first two rows, where Angela and Marianne were beaming proudly up at her. Even Tom and Slinky were jumpy with excitement. A surge of courage seemed to bolster Bonnie for the moment.

  Next, she glanced over to where Mum and Dad were sitting. They, too, were staring up at her with expectation in their eyes. They knew she was a good speller. Maybe this would be another small victory! And even if she didn’t win, maybe Mum would see that Bonnie was trying to be brave. But she didn’t feel very brave.

  Then she stared at Dr. Kenner, wondering which spellers he’d use. Unfortunately, they were all the same colour, so it was hard to tell. But, of course, it would be The Canadian Speller Book One because it covered Grades Three to Six.

  Mr. Hubbs turned and smiled at the entrants, and Bonnie began to relax a little. “Let us hold all applause until the competition is over, for we must remember that these pupils have all been chosen from their schools as top spellers. We don’t want to distract them from doing their best. All do deserve our applause—but at the end.” Mr. Hubbs then nodded to Dr. Kenner, who began reading out the words to be spelled.

  At first, they were easy. Bonnie couldn’t believe that the boy and one girl went down on cracker—not really a difficult word at all. The judge nodded at her.

  “Cracker. C-r-a-c-k-e-r,” Bonnie said easily.

  Soon, she and another girl, named Jennie, were the only ones left. They both knew that Dr. Kenner would now be reading out words higher than their grade level. Bonnie was glad. She’d taken most of the Grade Five words the previous spring. She suspected that the other girl had never seen them before.

  “Jumping,” said the adjudicator, turning to Jennie. That was a Grade Four word. It had appeared in the spelling list just last week. Bonnie sighed. Maybe she wouldn’t win after all. Jennie spelled it quickly and correctly.

  “Chopping,” said Dr. Kenner, his grey-green eyes looking straight through Bonnie.

  Tricky, thought Bonnie. She knew that jumping did not double the “p” but chopping did—she recognized the word from the Grade Five list she’d studied back in Massassaga. “Chopping,” Bonnie began, then drew a big breath. Immediately, she launched into a major coughing spell. Dr. Kenner raised both eyebrows as he waited.

  Finally, Bonnie squeaked out: “Chopping. C-h-o-p-p-in-g.” Where did that cough come from? Bonnie wondered in a panic. She hadn’t coughed in a long time. It was that old nervous habit of hers. How horrible. But she must drop it from her thoughts. If ever she needed to think, it was now!

  “Correct, Bonnie.”

  The words continued: women, weighed, forgotten, addition, geography, handkerchief, success. There were more from the Grade Five list than the Grade Four.

  “And now, Jennie,” said Dr. Kenner.

  Would it be another Grade Five word? Bonnie wondered. She hoped so.

  Dr. Kenner cleared his throat. “February.”

  Bonnie knew that was a tricky word, since most people pronounced it “Feb-u-ary.” But she was not fooled and could hardly wait for Jennie to answer.

  “Febuary. F-e-b-u-a-r-y,” said Jennie.

  “I’m sorry, you are wrong—but the competition is not over. Bonnie, please spell February. ”

 
“February. F-e-b-r-u-a-r-y,” said Bonnie. That felt good, but there was still a long way to go. Everyone knew that the second one to spell a given word had an advantage, so she would be given another word to spell correctly as well. Then, if Bonnie made a mistake on that second word and Jennie spelled it the right way, the two girls would be tied for winner. But if Bonnie spelled the second word correctly, she would win the competition. Bonnie took in a deep breath as she waited. She hadn’t started coughing…yet.

  “Bonnie, your word is carbohydrate.”

  Bonnie smiled. She’d met this word in the Grade Five speller. “Carbohydrate. C-a-r-b-o-h-y-d-r-a-t-e.”

  “Correct!” said Dr. Kenner. “We have our winner!”

  The audience erupted in applause. Archie and Slinky let out a couple of loud cheers.

  As for Bonnie, she could hardly believe that this had really happened. She knew she could win but after she got up there, she’d been afraid her mind would go blank and she would ruin it all. But she hadn’t! Slowly, a feeling of delight—and relief—crept over her.

  When the clapping died down, Dr. Kenner spoke again. “You have all been fine participants and good spellers. Mr. Hubbs, I believe, has a ribbon for each of you.”

  Mr. Hubbs came forward and pinned a ribbon on each child’s left shoulder. Then he gave Bonnie an envelope, which Bonnie knew had a hard coin in it. She felt it and was certain it was a twenty-five-cent piece.

  The pupils stepped down to more cheers.

  Mr. Hubbs spoke again. “We are now going to continue with the Senior Spelling Bee, since Dr. Kenner has kindly agreed to judge it as well. Then he will be leaving us to travel home to Peterborough. Would the Senior contestants please come up now?”

  While two girls came up from the left side and one boy from the right, Mr. Hubbs stepped down from the stage and came right over to Bonnie. “This competition is for Grade Eight and under,” he said. “If you wish, you may compete in this spelling bee too.”

  “No, sir,” Bonnie shook her head. She was wanting only to go and sit down between her friends. Her knees were shaking too much to stand there any longer. Best she make it quietly to her seat. “But thank you.”