Rescue at Fort Edmonton

by Rita Feutl

  Great. History and Halloween all rolled into one. That’s all she needed, thought Janey. But as she glanced at the locket in her hand, she figured she ought to do something nice in return for Granny’s gift. One day wouldn’t kill her.

  WELL, IT NEARLY HAS,THOUGHT JANEY, trapped in the dark in what seemed like the centre of the earth. She’d gone to the stupid park, and watched her grandmother ooh and ah over old washboards and young men dressed in bowler hats and vests. Most of the interpreters, which is what the costumed people called themselves, were university students, but some, as her grandmother had said, were volunteers, from toddlers to seniors, all decked out in old-fashioned clothes.

  None of it really grabbed Janey’s attention. While her grandmother was poking through some dumb farmhouse, Janey’d wandered over to the horses. Bored, she’d taken off her new necklace, and whipped the chain around on her finger. The locket swung around like a demented one-bladed helicopter propeller.

  When the horses realized she had nothing to feed them, they ambled back to the barn. Janey wandered over to the other side of the corral, crossing the rails of the old steam engine that thundered past every half-hour or so.

  On the other side of the tracks was a huge, chewed-up field, surrounded by fencing. “Future home of the Blatchford Field Hangar,” read the sign at the front. Janey wandered over to look at the work-in-progress, swinging her locket.When it flew over, she just seemed to fly in after it.

  And now here she was, trapped underground in some creepy pit.And after all that, she didn’t even have the locket with her. What was Granny going to say? Janey’d barely had the thing for twenty-four hours and she’d already lost it. How could she have been so careless with such an old piece of jewellery?

  Jewellery! That was it! She still had her watch on, the one with the light-up face. Quickly, Janey pushed the small button on the side, and an eerie green glow lit up the space. She undid the watch strap and used the tiny light to explore her surroundings. She was in a cave, she realized, and as she moved the watch around, she discovered four tunnels leading away from the collapsed roof. Now what?

  She released her watch light. Peering into each tunnel in turn, Janey thought she detected a glimmer of light at the end of the one with the smallest opening. She thrust her little light into it, where it glimmered weakly in the dark. What if she ran into some kind of awful animal? What did they have out here anyway? Did skunks live underground? Porcupines? What did you do if you met one?

  But there was no sense just sitting still. She strapped her watch back on. “Here goes,” she muttered aloud, and wedged herself into the opening. Hardly big enough to crawl in, the tunnel forced Janey to wriggle past rocks and stones that scratched her bare arms and legs. But the light was growing bigger and brighter, and Janey sensed she was moving uphill toward outside air.

  At last she reached the opening. Pulling herself from the hole, Janey tried to stand, but her knees gave way. She collapsed onto the grass and glanced around. No airport hangar construction here. No horses, no barn, no old farmhouse with Granny inside. She must have crawled a good distance underground to some other part of the park.

  She was in a field surrounded by scrubby bush. At one end, a pond glinted in the sunshine. Janey watched as a deer wandered daintily forward and lowered its head for a drink.

  They keep deer in this park? Cool, thought Janey, and then realized that she, too, was thirsty. She stood up again, this time more steadily, and glanced down at herself.“Oh man, just look at me!” she wailed, sending the deer skittering. Her new GAP T-shirt, the one she’d wheedled her mum into buying, was streaked with muck, as were the pink shorts she’d matched it with. Determinedly, she headed toward the pond. If she washed it off right away, it wouldn’t stain as badly.

  With the deer gone, Janey had the pond all to herself. She waded in up to her knees, realized how warm it was, and impulsively took a shallow dive into the water.

  It felt good to get the mud out of her hair. She could even feel it loosening from her eyelashes. Coming to the surface, she flipped over onto her back, and did a lazy crawl to the other side of the pond.This isn’t so bad, she thought, the water swirling while the sun warmed her face. She floated languidly, relishing the light that penetrated her closed eyelids after the darkness of the tunnels. She wondered what Rachel and Kira were up to.

  A splash quite close to her snapped her out of her reverie. Pulling her feet beneath her, Janey trod water and searched the shoreline.Two rocks flew toward her, and then the pond was peppered with them. Someone was using her for target practice and getting close to the mark. Janey swam the other way, but saw, from the corner of her eye, two boys – no, three of them, in dirty shirts and odd-looking shorts that seemed to gather below the knee – running around the edge of the pond, flinging stones as they went.

  “Hey, stop that, you idiots! This is not funny!” Janey shouted, veering away from their aim.

  “Ha! Ha! Look at her. Betcha she’s got no clothes on! Let’s get her!” shouted the biggest, nastiest looking one of the bunch.

  What jerks! More angry than frightened, Janey swam backwards. “Stop it!” she called sharply. Jeering, the boys ignored her, firing their ammunition ever faster. One rock caught her arm, then another nicked her side as it sank under the water. This was getting serious. Should she head back to the centre of the pond? But she’d be a sitting duck for them there. Instead, she turned and swam toward the opposite beach. Her knees scraped the muck at the bottom and she struggled to stand. But another rock caught her on her shoulder blade, and she threw herself forward onto the beach.

  Abruptly, the shouting stopped. Janey raised her head slightly, and came nose to toes with a pair of beautifully embroidered moccasins.There were feet in the moccasins, she realized. Janey’s eyes rose higher, past a pair of trousers and a long-sleeved shirt and an oddly formal vest, until they came to the face of a tall, dark-eyed man with black braids hanging past his shoulders.

  “Can you help me?” she asked. The man nodded, turned and walked into the bush. “Hey, wait a minute!” Janey called out, annoyance and fright mixed equally in her voice. She knew that the boys, though quiet, were still somewhere around the pond. Heaving herself out of the water, she stumbled toward the bushes where she’d last seen her rescuer.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “HEY! WAIT UP!” JANEY SHOUTED, PANTING and stumbling through the underbrush. She may as well have been talking to the poplars and pine trees surrounding her; the man up ahead didn’t stop. Her waterlogged running shoes squelched a muddy staccato as she dodged branches and tree roots.

  What kind of a stupid park was this? she wondered. Sinkholes in construction sites, killer kids around the pond, and now this guy pretending to be a Cree hunter, who couldn’t even show her how to get out of here.

  “Hey! You! Just because you’ve got a role to play in this dumb park doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me normally. Can’t you wait up and tell me how to get out of here?” she called.

  It was no use. Her guide slipped through the trees and Janey crashed along behind. Just when she figured she’d take her chances with the three idiots by the pond, they reached a clearing in the brush.

  “Oh, man – I knew I’d run into cows while I was here,” Janey wailed. And not just one or two. Grazing contentedly in the pasture ahead of her were dozens and dozens of caramel-coloured beasts, placidly chewing away while Janey stared at them in horror.

  “Mister! What if those cows attack me! I have an uncle who’s a lawyer! We’ll...we’ll sue you. We’ll take this park to the cleaners!” she called. No answer. Weaving his way calmly through the cows, the man was making for an odd, round structure at the far end of the field. Janey skittered after him, stepping in two cow pies as she tried to keep up.

  The man reached the curiously shaped building and slipped around it. Following him, Janey caught a whiff of hay, animals, and something earthier. Of course! It was a barn, and there, across the field, was a farmhouse, which her guide ha
d already reached.

  The white of the apron on the woman who opened the screen door was the first thing Janey noticed. There was so much of it, starting near the grey-haired woman’s chin and dropping down to just above her ankles. Not that Janey saw any ankles. A dark skirt peeked out underneath the apron, but the woman’s long-sleeved blouse was rolled up to the elbows. She must be boiling in that getup, thought Janey. These park people took their jobs way too seriously.

  “Good day, Omâcîw,” said the woman. “Is your wife still feeling poorly?”

  The man spoke in a language that made absolutely no sense to Janey.

  “Now wait a minute,” fumed Janey as she approached the door.“This is taking this whole reality thing a bit too far.”

  As the Cree hunter continued to speak, the woman’s eyes swept over Janey. “The Jameson boys caught you swimming at the pond, did they?” she said when he’d finished.“Well, you’re not likely to see your clothes again – they’re probably buried behind their outhouse by now.”

  She turned back to the man.“Thank you, Omâcîw. Before you go, please take along some of my spruce and tansy tea for your wife. It’s the least I can do after her mother showed me what it was good for.”

  She stepped inside and returned with a fragrant bundle wrapped in white cloth. Omâcîw took the bundle and turned to retrace his steps. The woman beckoned Janey. “Step inside and I’ll see if I can come up with some of Mag’s old things – she’s my youngest, but a bit older than you, I’d imagine,” she said.“By the way, I’m Mrs. Henderson. You must not be from around here. I can’t say as I recognize your face.”

  “Oh, I’m Janey Kane. I’m from Toronto, but I’m visiting my grandmother in Edmonton for the summer, and we came out here to look around and then I fell into this hole and crawled through the mud and then those stupid boys pelted me with rocks...”

  “Child, I can’t stand here all day letting flies into the house,” said Mrs. Henderson firmly. “I’ll find you some things and then you can ride into Edmonton with Anna. She’s promised to stop by and take a case of my butter to the market.” She was about to turn away when she glanced at Janey’s T-shirt. “I can’t say I’ve heard of the GAP milling company. Peculiar name. Must be some kind of new Eastern flour. Out here we make our underwear from Brackman & Kerr flour sacks. Wipe those feet on the scraper before you come in.”

  Puzzled, Janey did as she was told, then entered a good-sized kitchen. A tangy, unfamiliar scent mixed with the pungent smell of herbs drying over the stove. Bowls and buckets covered with cloth crowded the table. A water pump crouched over a sink in one corner, while in another corner stairs rose to the second floor.

  “I’ll see what I can find,” said Mrs. Henderson as she disappeared up the stairs. “You may sit down by the table. Mind you don’t upset the buttermilk.”

  Janey lifted the tea towel that covered the bowl closest to her and the tangy scent grew stronger.That white, thick-looking stuff must be the buttermilk, she thought. She let the cloth drop and wandered over to the cast-iron stove across from the sink. It radiated heat. How on earth could you cook over a fire on a hot day like today? she wondered.

  Arms full of clothes, Mrs. Henderson returned to the room and thrust them at Janey.

  “Here. I know the style’s a bit old-fashioned to someone from Toronto, but these will make you presentable until you can meet up with your grandmother. And if I can’t find Mag’s old straw hat, the sunbonnet I use in the garden will do.”

  Janey nearly burst out laughing as she inspected the bundle of clothes. Long – really, really long – black, scratchy-looking socks topped the pile. Not a chance, she thought. Underneath, she discovered a soft white petticoat and a long, navy blue cotton dress that appeared to button up the back. Last in the pile was a huge white cotton apron.

  “Best get on with it,” continued Mrs. Henderson. “Anna will be here presently and I don’t want the butter to stand out in the heat.” She stood, hands on hips, waiting for Janey to dress. “I’ll help you with the buttons on the back.Then you may have a glass of buttermilk before you set out.”

  “But I don’t want to wear all this stuff,” said Janey, eyeing the layers with dismay.

  “Well, you can’t go prancing around town in your underdrawers, child! The very idea!” She bustled over, popped the petticoat over Janey’s head and drew her arms into the sleeves.

  “But this is on top of what I’m already wearing!” Janey wailed. Physically resisting this commanding woman seemed, somehow, impossible.

  “Oh, for goodness sake! Don’t tell me they’re wearing their camisoles over their petticoats in Toronto! What a queer idea. Here, let’s get this dress on you; I can hear Anna’s wagon coming up the hill.”

  “But, but –” Janey’s sputtering protest was muffled as Mrs. Henderson yanked the dress on top of her. She spun the bewildered girl around, buttoned up the back, tied the apron over top, and plonked a straw hat on her head.

  “I’m assuming you can put the stockings on yourself. I need to get the butter.” Mrs. Henderson swept out of the kitchen, leaving the screen door shuddering in her wake.

  Janey had never been so hot in her life. But she couldn’t reach the buttons behind her, and it was almost too hot to try. Instead, she rolled the long woollen socks into a ball and looked for a place to hide them. She opened a door on a tall cupboard beside her, but a great hunk of dripping ice blocked her way. Inside the next door was better – the metal-lined container held shelves filled with pitchers of milk and blocks of butter. She thrust her hand behind two jugs and dropped the socks, then closed the door reluctantly on the cool interior just as Mrs. Henderson returned.

  She was followed by a dark-haired, black-eyed girl who stared curiously at Janey. “Anna Hirczi, this is Janey Kane,” said the older woman. Groggy, hot and uncomfortable, Janey stared miserably at the slim girl who was dressed much like her, but moved with a cool, fluid grace to accept a glass of buttermilk from Mrs. Henderson.

  Janey took hers with more suspicion.Tiny beads of condensation gathered on the rim of Janey’s glass as she considered when she’d last had buttermilk. Probably never. But Anna had already emptied her own glass and was still eyeing her inquisitively.

  Here goes nothing, Janey thought, and took a small sip. Cool and slightly sour, it tickled the back of her throat as it went down.The next sip went down more smoothly, and in half a second, her glass was empty. “Refreshing on a hot day, isn’t it?” asked Mrs. Henderson. Surprised, Janey nodded, and wondered briefly if buttermilk Slurpees would ever make it at the corner store.

  “Off you go,” said Mrs. Henderson, holding the screen door open. Anna was already in the wagon. “Once you find your grandmother, Janey, you can send the clothes back with Anna.”

  With pleasure, thought Janey, hot and clammy once more as she climbed up into the wagon.

  IT WASN’T UNTIL THEY DESCENDED the hill and rounded the corner that anyone spoke. Janey could tell Anna’d been watching her, but when they lost sight of the house, Janey turned to her and said: “Look, you may want to go on playing this game, but I can’t stand it anymore.You’ve got to help me out of these clothes. Aren’t you roasting?”

  Anna stared at her.“Mrs. Henderson said you are a small bit strange. What is wrong with these clothes? With the new styles the skirts are now shorter, but if you are older, then long is still good. How old are you?”

  “I’m twelve, and I’m boiling. Look, stop this wagon. Are all of you guys weird? Man, I can’t wait to get out of this stupid place.” Janey jerked around to try to catch a button on her apron, and accidentally popped one off.

  Anna caught the button before it rattled off the wagon seat.“Here. I will help you with the pinny, even though it makes your dress more cheerful,” she said, undoing the row of tiny white fasteners.

  “Don’t stop. Do the dress too,” urged Janey after the apron came loose.“I can’t reach the dress buttons.”

  “What?You cannot waltz into the city
in your petticoat,” said Anna.

  “I’ve got shorts on underneath!” Janey shrieked, exasperated. “Look!”

  “But...you are not wearing any stockings,” said Anna, awed, looking at Janey’s bare legs. “And such shoes! What are these? A Toronto moccasin?”

  “Oh, quit fooling around. Those are my sneakers, for Pete’s sake.We all wear this in Toronto,” said Janey impatiently, squirming until she could reach the buttons on the back of her dress.“Why didn’t they design dresses back then so a girl could get them on and off without any help?” Furious, she lifted the dress and the petticoat over her head and flung them into the back of the wagon.“What time period is this supposed to be anyway?”

  Anna’s eyes just about bugged out of her head. She brought the pony to a stop, then looked at Janey with a mixture of fear and pity.“Now look,” she said soothingly, “we will find your grandmamma and she will take care of you, but to walk through the streets with only these clothes is...not right! No good! What is the matter with you? Even in Toronto at the train station last year the ladies did not show such legs. Now in 1907 they change this much? No.You must put on the dress,” said Anna firmly.

  Janey had just about had it. “Would you stop playing around,” she demanded furiously, stamping her foot and startling the pony. “It’s not 1907 – give me a break! I am sick and tired of being in these stupid olden days. Look. Forget about my grandmother. Just take me to entrance of the park. Man, are they going to get an earful from me. What a stupid place.And you – how can you even be working today when it’s sweltering like this? You must be crazy; the whole lot of you.”

  “Just look who is crazy,” said Anna, reaching her own boiling point. “You scare poor Rosa, you take all your clothes off, you talk about a park...what park? Did those Jameson boys hit you on the head? You are either crazy or...rude.”

  “I am usually not either,” said Janey through gritted teeth. “But you seem to be both.”