Discovering Emily

by Jacqueline Pearce

  Discovering Emily

  Jacqueline Pearce

  Copyright © 2004 Jacqueline Pearce

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Pearce, Jacqueline, 1962-

  Discovering Emily / Jacqueline Pearce.

  (Orca young readers)

  ISBN 1-55143-295-1

  I. Title. II. Series.

  PS8581.E26D58 2004 jC813’.6 C2004-904720-5

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2004110935

  Summary: At the age of eight, Emily Carr struggles to develop her artistic ability within a strict family and in a conservative time.

  Free teachers’ guide available.

  Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP), the Canada Council for the Arts, and the British Columbia Arts Council.

  Typesetting and cover design by Lynn O’Rourke

  Cover & interior illustrations by Renné Benoit

  In Canada:

  Orca Book Publishers

  1016 Balmoral Road

  Victoria, BC Canada

  V8T 1A8

  In the United States:

  Orca Book Publishers

  PO Box 468

  Custer, WA USA

  98240-0468

  07 06 05 04 • 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Printed and bound in Canada.

  For my good friend, Jean-Pierre,

  who has shared an interest in art

  with me since we met in grade two;

  for my daughter, Danielle,

  who also likes to draw and paint;

  and for all you readers who love art.

  Table of Contents

  1 The Cow Yard

  2 In Trouble Again

  3 No Supper

  4 Sunday

  5 Following the Path

  6 The Saloon

  7 Escape

  8 The Drawing

  9 Art Class

  10 Dede’s Visitors

  11 Dede’s Revenge

  12 The Exhibition

  13 The Praying Chair

  14 The Birthday Present

  15 Christmas

  16 Mill Stream

  17 The Contest

  18 The Lily Field

  Afterword

  1

  The Cow Yard

  “It’s so unfair!” Emily grumbled as she stood inside the cow yard fence, scratching the stiff hair on top the cow’s head.

  She glanced back at the house and scowled. All she’d done was slide down the banister and maybe sing out a bit as she sailed down. How was she to know that her oldest sister, Dede, was entertaining church ladies in the drawing room? Emily fumed at the memory of the scolding Dede had given her in front of the visitors. She could never do anything right in Dede’s eyes. When Mother wasn’t feeling well and Father was at work, Dede was in charge, and she took the job seriously. Dede, whose given name was Edith, was fifteen years older than Emily. Sometimes it seemed she was even stricter and harder to please than Father.

  Emily held out a handful of long grass, and the cow munched it slowly. The cow’s warm breath touched Emily’s fingers, and her big dark eyes seemed to regard Emily sympathetically. The chickens pecked in the dirt near Emily’s feet, making their soothing clucking sounds. Emily sighed. She always felt better after visiting the cow yard. She picked up a stick and began drawing in the dirt. Lazy circles began to take the shape of the cow.

  When she was smaller, Emily and her youngest sisters, Alice and Lizzie, had often played together in the cow yard. They’d visited the animals, fished for tadpoles in the pond and sailed paper boats down the little creek. But first Lizzie, then Alice, had tired of the cow yard. It was too dirty for them now. They liked to keep their frocks clean and pretend to be proper ladies. Emily had no interest in sitting around being a lady. She would much rather be a farmer’s wife, with lots of animals to take care of, or a circus horse rider who jumped through hoops of fire.

  Emily looked over at the flower garden in front of the house where Alice and Lizzie were playing with dolls. Alice would be the mother, as usual, while Lizzie was probably pretending to be a missionary, quoting the Bible to everyone. Lizzie looked up.

  “Milly!” she called, using the shortened name the family often called Emily. “Come out of there before you dirty your frock. Father will be home soon.”

  Emily turned her back on Lizzie. How dull playing at ladies was. She set down her stick and gazed at the cow. She was no horse, but she was the right shape for riding. Emily hitched up her skirt and climbed onto the fence beside the cow.

  “I’m a circus horse rider!” she called as she grabbed hold of the cow’s neck and flung one leg out over her back. Suddenly, the slow, calm cow transformed into a bucking, kicking wild creature. Emily tried to hold on, but she lasted only a moment before she was thrown off into the mud beside the creek.

  Alice and Lizzie screamed and ran to the cow yard fence.

  “Milly! Are you hurt?” Alice cried.

  Emily got slowly to her feet, rubbing her bruised backside. The cow had run off kicking to the other side of the yard. Now she was calmly chewing again, her tail switching lazily.

  “It serves you right,” Lizzie said. “You have such silly ideas, Emily. Imagine, pretending the cow was a horse. You couldn’t ride a horse, anyway.”

  Emily scowled at Lizzie and turned back to the cow. It seemed that she wasn’t good at anything. She walked over and stroked the cow’s side.

  “Sorry, cow,” she whispered. “I won’t try that again.”

  The cow looked at Emily with her soft eyes, her ordeal already forgotten. Sometimes animals were much nicer than people, Emily thought.

  2

  In Trouble Again

  Emily hurried up the stairs into the kitchen at the back of the house. With all her strength, she pushed down on the handle of the pump at the kitchen sink. Water gushed out of the pump mouth and into the basin. She stopped pumping and scooped the cold water into her hands. Father would be home any minute, expecting to look over a row of clean, tidy children, and she was a mess.

  Emily washed her hands and face quickly, and then raced from the room and up the stairs to the bedroom she shared with Alice and Lizzy. She didn’t have time to change into a clean dress, but she tore off her soiled pinafore and pulled on a fresh one. Then she ran back down the stairs, buttoning the pinafore behind her as she went.

  Dede stood at the bottom of the stairs, hands on her hips.

  “For heaven’s sake, Emily, slow down to a civilized pace and walk quietly. Mother is resting.”

  Emily slowed. She glanced up towards her mother’s bedroom, which was upstairs at the front of the house. A faint cough made its way down to their ears, as if to emphasize Dede’s words. Emily frowned. She hadn’t wanted to disturb Mother. Sometimes she wished she could behave more like Dede and the others wanted her to. But it was hard always remembering to do this and do that and don’t do this and don’t do that.

  Emily concentrated on walking in a quiet and ladylike manner out the front door to the garden. She took her place between Alice and their little brother, Richard, just as Father walked through the front gate.

  Father strode up the walk between the rows of English flowers he’d planted. Many were still blooming although winter was getting closer. He looked tall and important in his dark
suit and hat. His eyes checked over the flowers. Then he seemed to notice the children for the first time, and he raised his walking cane slightly to greet them. He walked along the row of children, inspecting them like he had the flowers. Emily squirmed. Father stopped in front of her and frowned.

  “That’s not dirt I see on your face, is it, Emily?” he asked. He stepped closer and looked her over more carefully.

  “There is dirt under your fingernails,” he pointed out with disapproval. Then, he nodded downward. “And what is that?”

  He bent closer. Emily pulled her hands behind her back. She’d forgotten about the drawing she’d done this morning on the back of one hand. She must have washed only the palms.

  “Hands in front!” Father ordered, thumping his cane on the ground in front of Emily.

  Slowly, Emily drew her hands out from behind her back.

  “What is that?” he demanded.

  “It’s a face,” Emily said, looking up past his tall black suit and square gray beard to meet his eyes. For a moment she thought she saw a twinkle of amusement there. Then Dede stepped up.

  “I told her to stay clean,” Dede said. “But all she does is misbehave. She should go without supper tonight.”

  “What!” exclaimed Emily. “All Dede does is boss, boss, boss. She should be the one to go without supper!”

  “There!” Dede said. “That is the kind of insolence I have to put up with.”

  Father stamped his cane on the ground once more. His eyes had darkened like the sky suddenly covered by storm clouds.

  “Emily, I won’t have any more of that kind of talk. I am afraid you will have to go without supper while you work at improving your manners. You must show your sister more respect.”

  Emily looked down. Why couldn’t anyone ever be on her side?

  3

  No Supper

  At supper, Emily had to sit at the table with everyone else, but she was given nothing to eat. She stared down at the blank space in front of her, keeping her eyes from the food that seemed to cover every other spot, but it was hard not to breathe in the smell of roast beef and potatoes and not to listen to the sound of the others chewing. Little Richard, who sat beside Emily on her left, was an especially noisy eater. Worse, pieces of food kept falling from his fork onto her section of the table. Emily glanced up at Father and Dede. They seemed to be busy with their own food. Emily’s hand crept onto the table.

  “Emily!” Father barked.

  Emily’s hand froze, then retreated back to her lap, empty.

  “You pick your food up, Richard,” Mother said gently. She gave Emily a sympathetic look, and Emily sat on her hands, resolving to take her punishment more stoically for Mother’s sake — even if she did feel it was unjust.

  After supper, it was time for the children’s weekly Saturday night bath. Dede dragged the big tub from the back porch into the middle of the kitchen and set pots of water boiling on the stove. When the tub was full, Lizzie shucked off her clothes and stepped into the steaming water. Dede helped to scrub Lizzie’s back while Alice and Emily waited for their turns. Because she was the dirtiest, Emily went last.

  By the time Emily climbed into the tub, the water had already cooled down. Dede dumped a fresh pot of boiled water around Emily’s knees, nearly scalding her. Then, Dede set to work on Emily’s back with the soap and scrub brush.

  “Ouch!” Emily protested. She was sure Dede was scrubbing her skin much harder than she had Lizzie’s or Alice’s.

  “Sit still, Emily,” Dede ordered. “Remember, cleanliness is next to Godliness.”

  Emily clamped her teeth shut tight on the words that wanted to come out and worked at scrubbing the ink face off of her hand. She didn’t want to give Dede any more opportunities to punish her tonight.

  After the bath, Emily wrapped herself in a towel and ran up the stairs after her sisters. She put on a fresh nightgown and jumped into bed next to Alice. She pulled her knees up tight against her hungry stomach and wrapped her arms around them. She wished she had a puppy that would curl up next to her, warm and comforting. But Father had already told her he wouldn’t allow a puppy. Puppies were hard to control. They made messes, had accidents on carpets, dug holes in flower gardens. Father kept his own dog, Carlow, chained up outside. But it would be so nice to have an animal of her own. A puppy would love her no matter what. A puppy wouldn’t care if she got dirt under her fingernails or slid down banisters or sang too loudly or did things the way she wanted. Whatever that way was.

  Emily wasn’t sure what it was that she wanted to do or be. Alice wanted to grow up and be a mother. Lizzie wanted to be a missionary. It was easy for them. They were good at things. But Emily didn’t seem to be good at anything — except, maybe, getting into trouble.

  Emily’s stomach growled. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. She felt as empty as her stomach.

  Alice touched her shoulder, and Emily pretended to be asleep. Then she felt Alice’s arm reach across her. Emily opened her eyes and saw that Alice was holding out something wrapped in a cloth napkin. The something smelled good.

  “Thanks!” Emily whispered as she pulled the little bundle under the covers with her and sank her teeth into the delicious thick bread and cold meat.

  4

  Sunday

  “Rise up! Rise up! It’s Sunday, children,” Father called, stepping into the girls’ bedroom.

  Even if he hadn’t said anything, Emily would have known it was Sunday by Father’s smell — Wright’s coal tar soap and camphor. Every Sunday Father washed with his special soap and dressed in clean clothes stored in the big camphor-wood chest of drawers, which he’d brought with him on a sailing ship from England.

  Father left the room, and Emily climbed reluctantly out of bed. Some things she liked about Sundays and some things she didn’t.

  “Milly,” Alice said, interrupting Emily’s thoughts. She nodded meaningfully at the bed.

  Emily took up her side of the bed covers and began straightening them. Once the bed was made Emily went to the wardrobe to take out her Sunday dress. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Alice lean over the bed to smooth out some wrinkles Emily had missed.

  Emily pulled on her long black stockings, climbed into starched bloomers and petticoat, and wiggled her corset with its loosened laces down over her head. She adjusted the corset around her middle, then turned her back to Alice, sucked in her stomach and held her breath as Alice pulled the laces tight.

  “Oh, I hate corsets!” Emily complained. “Why do I have to look like I have a tiny middle when I don’t?”

  “All ladies have to wear them,” Alice said patiently, as she held in her own small stomach so that Lizzie could tighten and tie her corset laces. “Even young ladies like us.”

  “Well, I’d rather not!” said Emily.

  Lizzie poked her head over Alice’s shoulder and scowled at Emily.

  “You’d rather be improper,” scolded Lizzie. As Lizzie turned back to the laces, Emily stuck out her tongue. Lizzie’s eyes snapped back suspiciously, but Emily quickly pulled her stiff blue dress over her head, so that it hid her face. Once the dress was on, she had to turn to Alice again for help with all the tiny buttons she couldn’t reach down her back. Finally, she buttoned on her tight black boots. Clothes were definitely one of the things she didn’t like about Sundays.

  Emily, Alice and Lizzie headed downstairs in their matching blue Sunday frocks. Emily’s two oldest sisters, Dede and Tallie, said they were too old to dress the same, but Father insisted that at least his youngest daughters dress alike for church.

  “I don’t want my daughters looking like orphans,” he’d say. “Only orphans have mismatched clothes.”

  Emily helped her sisters set the table in the dining room. That was the only work that could be done in the Carr house on a Sunday. Sunday was the Lord’s day of rest, which meant everyone else had to rest too and “think of God,” as Dede said. Everything in the house was cleaned and polished extra well the day before, and
all of Sunday’s food was prepared on Saturday. The servant, Bong, milked the cow in the morning, then went away until evening milking time.

  Once the table was set, it was time to leave for church. Mother was feeling better, but the two-mile walk to church would still be too difficult for her. Emily’s second oldest sister, Tallie, and little Richard also found the walk hard, so they stayed home too. Everyone else set out for church, following Father across the back of the Carr property. The walk was one part of Sunday that Emily liked.

  The air was cool and fresh. They followed a path through the cow’s pasture, then came to a picket fence. Father lifted up a section of the fence that acted as a gate, and Emily’s sisters stepped through. Emily came last, walking slowly. She didn’t want to rush her favorite part of the walk. Ahead of her, tall pine trees stood amid grassy open spaces. In spring the grass would be full of wild lilies. Now, Emily stood, breathing in the memory of the flowers. She closed her eyes and saw them, dotting the ground in an unruly dance, their brown hearts bent close to the earth and their white petals reaching for the sky.

  “Emily!” Dede called. “Hurry up or you’ll make us late for church.”

  Emily sighed. She’d much rather stay here in the lily field—even without the lilies—than have to sit and listen to one of Dr. Reid’s long sermons. But she followed Father and her sisters to the end of the field and out through another gate to the road.

  The road was dry, so Emily, Alice and Lizzie held hands and walked down the middle of it. They only had to get out of the way of a horse and buggy once. This way was never busy—especially on Sundays. When the road was muddy they had to walk on the wooden sidewalk. Sometimes a cow, escaped from its pasture, stood on the sidewalk blocking their way. Dede would poke and wave her parasol, but it was never the cow that made way. Always it was Dede and the rest of them who had to step down into the mud and go around the cow. Emily was always secretly pleased when this happened, and she’d reach out to give the cow a friendly pat as she walked by.