by Rita Feutl
It was on one of those walks through the ravine – after a liberal dose of bug repellent – that her dad told her what had happened.
“In a nutshell, Janey, I’ve been laid off,” he said as they stopped on a wooden footbridge to watch the creek trickle by underneath.
“Laid off? They fired you?”
“No, not fired. I didn’t do anything wrong. But there’s no more work for me. It’s just a bad time in the computer industry and has been for the past year.”
“But what about those people in Seattle?”
“It fell through, Janey. In fact, I was hoping the Seattle stuff would lead to a new job. It’s been looking bad for a while. It was really lucky Mummy got that assignment in Turkey.”
“You mean she wasn’t just going to Turkey because she thought it would be cool?”
“Well, she thought it would be cool, but she certainly didn’t want to leave us – you – for such a long period. But things, as I said, were already looking shaky this spring.”
Panic suddenly gripped Janey. “There’s nothing shaky between the two of you, is there? Are you guys...are you two...still married?”
Janey’s dad laughed ruefully as he pulled her close to him. “Of course we are, sweetheart. We love each other as much as we did on the day we were married, probably more.”
They both leaned against the railing, watching the creek. “So what happens when you’re unemployed?” Janey asked finally.
“Well, Mummy’s job means we don’t have to do anything drastic yet. But sitting around in Toronto twiddling my thumbs while you’re out here doesn’t really appeal to me.” He paused, watching a twig float past. “So I was kinda thinking that maybe I’d move back here, with you.”
Janey stared at him. “What do you mean, move? Like, for the rest of the summer?”
“Well, probably for longer than that, until the economy picks up.We could save some money...”
“You’re crazy!” Janey pulled away from him. “Leave everyone and everything that I know and love, to move here?” Janey’s voice rose until she was shouting. “That’s the worst idea you’ve ever come up with! No wonder they fired you! Move away from all my friends in Toronto, from school, from... from...everything? Move here?! No way! You’re just – ”
“Janey! Whoa! Hold on here –”
“No! This is stupid! I’m not listening to this...” Furious, Janey turned and flew up the path, leaving her father far behind. How can he possibly think I’d want to move here? she thought.What a stupid, stupid idea.Why did he have to go and lose his job? And why did they need to move? Other people lost their jobs and they stayed at the same place. They went to the same school and...and...nothing changed. Everything was moving so fast here.
She reached her grandmother’s garage and stood panting beside it. No way was she going to let anyone talk her into moving.This was just such a disaster.This was worse than...than losing some dumb letters in a river. This was a catastrophe. This was...this had to be stopped.
Janey’s heart skipped a beat. If ever there was a disaster she was meant to stop, this was it! This was what she was supposed to be doing when she went into the past! Somehow she was linked to Edmonton’s history, and if she could just get to the right point, she could convince her dad that he didn’t need to move back here – that it would be okay to stay in Toronto. Somehow, she was the connection, because otherwise some other kid would be crawling through those tunnels. Janey fingered the locket around her neck and made a decision.
Five minutes later she was wheeling Granny’s bike from the garage, clad in the coveralls and flannel shirt. The cap was stuck in her pocket. It took a half-hour of riding to get her to the park. She paid her admission and strode directly to the construction site, removing the locket from around her neck as she walked.When she reached the fence, she leaped over and dropped the locket to the ground. She was swallowed instantly.
CHAPTER SIX
WHAT WOULD IT TAKE TO REMEMBER TO bring a flashlight? grumbled Janey, pulling herself out of the dirt and sitting up in the darkness. She fumbled for her watch and pushed the button for the light.
She’d been right. Now there were only two corridors leading away. Janey released her watch and saw, once again, a faint glimmer of light down the tunnel on her left. Nothing but darkness on the right.
Considering all the awful things that had happened when Janey had chosen the last two tunnels, maybe, she thought, she should go down the path that was dark. She went so far as to stick her head into the opening, then panicked. It was too black, too spooky. She pulled back and turned toward the opening on her left.
As she crawled along, Mrs. Black Bear’s words about dressing warmly rushed back toward her. The closer she came to the surface, the colder the earth became. At the mouth of the tunnel, Janey realized she could see her breath in the sunlight. It was going to be cold here, and all she was wearing was a flannel shirt and overalls on top of summer clothes. She thought longingly of the coat in her grandfather’s trunk.
Pulling herself cautiously from her hole, Janey scanned her surroundings for possible dangers. Before her, the river was clogged with huge chunks of ice. Dirty patches of snow and piles of soggy, dead leaves mottled the ground. The few trees that clung to the riverbank were naked and scraggly, though Janey noticed hints of green buds forming on the tips of the branches. And the sun was making an attempt to melt the snow, thought Janey grimly. As far as she could see, there were no other people about.
Yet as she clambered to her feet, Janey became aware of a steady hammering. Even a city girl like her knew that this wasn’t some odd woodpecker burrowing into bark, but the sound of someone building something. She stepped gingerly around the snow patches and followed the noise up the side of the embankment. By the time she’d reached a stand of fir trees at the top and hidden herself behind them, the steady hammering had stopped, replaced by the sound of angry voices.
In a clearing before her stood the skeleton of a small house, its freshly cut wooden frame as bare and sparse as the poplars in the background. Inside the house frame, a small canvas tent flapped noisily whenever a chilly gust of wind caught its opening. But the sound wasn’t enough to drown out the half-dozen men crowding threateningly around the unfinished doorway.
“Now look here, George. Be reasonable,” said one voice from the back of the crowd. “You have no right to be settlin’ on this land.You’re jumpin’ this claim, and if everyone starts doin’ that we won’t have any kinda order out here.”
“You tell ’im,Wilson!” called another man. “If we let this one go, then no man can turn his back on his claim for an instant without losin’ it.” Grumbles and mutterings rose from the rest of the group.
“I’m tellin’ you again,” said a hoarse voice from just inside the door frame.“There’s never been anyone on this particular land to develop it, and I have just as much right as anybody to settle it.”
“You ain’t got the right, George. This land was divided up fair and square after the men left the fort and it ain’t yours to jump.”
“Pa?” A small boy scooted through the wooden frame. “Why are these men shoutin’ at you?”
“Because they haven’t heard that on the Lord’s Day a body shouldn’t raise his voice in anger,” said the hoarse voice, gentler now.
“You still oughtn’t to be here, George.”The grumblings died down. “Let’s leave off for today, men. But be warned, George. If you’re still here tomorrow, we’re goin’ to get you off this land, whatever it takes.” Muttering amongst themselves, the men drifted toward their horses and slowly rode away.
The man left standing in the doorway eyed the retreating group warily. “Son, I want you to follow them and see what they’re plannin’.Take some of that bread and bacon with you, and find out what they’re sayin’ at the smithy’s or McDougall’s store.”
The child ducked into the tent, emerging several minutes later, fists stuffed with provisions. His father smiled briefly.
�
��You’re only goin’ into town, Lucas, not clear across the territory. Best have some of that now, and put the rest in your pocket.” The boy nodded, crammed half a fist into his mouth, and then headed in the direction of the men. Janey edged around the clearing and followed, as the sound of slow and steady hammering rang out behind her.
But the noise did little to muffle Janey’s movements, and the sparse winter woods offered nothing in the way of camouflage. The small boy turned, peering sharply into the scraggly forest. “I know you’re in there,” he called fiercely, bending down to scoop up a rock. “You’d best come out so’s I can see you.”
Janey could hardly suppress a giggle as she stepped from behind a prickly rose bush.“It’s all right, Lucas. I promise not to hurt you.”
The boy looked puzzled for a moment. “How’d you know my name?”
“I was watching back there. I heard your dad calling you.”
His blue eyes narrowed.“Are you one a them spies sent out to keep an eye on my pa?”
“Oh, no. I’m Ja...Jamie. Jamie Kane. I’m from the East. I just got here.”
“I’m Lucas George,” said the boy gravely, coming up to shake her hand.“Are you looking for land too?”
“Not me. I’m here by myself. I...”
“You’re an all-over orphan? That’s too bad.” He looked at her sympathetically. “Me, I just lost my ma, but I still got my pa.That’s why we’re here.” He turned, naturally assuming that Janey would fall in beside him. She did.The child barely reached Janey’s elbow.
“I don’t understand, Lucas.Why are you here?”
“Pa said he couldn’t bear to live in Wyoming no more after Ma died. She was supposed to be givin’ me a baby sister, but she died too. So we came here.” He paused, then asked, “How come you’re here?”
Janey wasn’t sure young Lucas would understand about her mission, given the fact that she hardly understood it herself. Instead of answering, she asked the boy how old he was.
“Six. Almost seven, come June.”
“What happened back there, with all those men?”
“It’s about the land. Pa says there’s lots of land out here. And since the government ain’t sent out a surveyor, then it belongs to anyone that wants to settle on it.” He looked up at Janey. “What’s a surveyor?”
“It’s someone who measures out land, I think, and makes it all official.”
Lucas nodded as if that made sense. “Anyways, Pa says he’s gonna build us a fine house with a place for his fiddle. He’s gonna play it for me as soon as the house is finished.” He frowned, trudging along the rutted, frozen path. “He ain’t touched a string on that fiddle since before Ma died. It’d sure be nice to hear him play again.”
The wistfulness in his voice made Janey forget, momentarily, the cold seeping in through the bottoms of her runners. Unlike Lucas, she did, in fact, have two parents, even though one was halfway around the world. She suddenly felt a pang of sheepishness. Here was this poor little guy, coming all the way to Edmonton because he’d lost half his family and they were trying to make a new life. Meanwhile, Janey’s mum could keep them afloat even if her dad lost his job. Compared to little Lucas, her troubles hardly counted.
“So, if you got no folk, how come you’re here?” Lucas persisted.
“I think I might be able to help someone out here,” she said finally. “You know how you sometimes get a feeling inside you about something?” Lucas nodded. “Well, I’ve got this feeling that I might stop something bad from happening.”
The sound of an approaching horse and rider cut off the boy’s reply. Janey and Lucas moved to the side of the path to let them pass.
A beautiful chestnut mare with a black mane and matching black socks cantered toward them.The rider, a middle-aged woman wearing buckskin leggings, a shawl, and a bonnet, nodded at them as she went by. She was almost gone from sight when the horse pulled up short, turned, and slowly cantered back. The woman peered intensely at Janey.
“Are you Jamie? Jamie from the East?”
Janey’s heart leapt. How did anyone know she was here? She could only nod dumbly.
The woman in the saddle began to chuckle. Lucas looked from the rider to Janey and back, especially as the chuckles escalated to roars of laughter.
“Mama was right!” the woman finally gasped, wiping her tears with the corner of her shawl. “She dreamed you’d be back, and here you are.That flannel shirt of yours has lasted a long time.”
Janey felt shivers clambering up and down her spine. “Louisa?” she asked tentatively.
“Mrs. Louisa Black Bear,” said the woman, dismounting and coming toward them, a huge smile lighting up her plump face.
A dozen thoughts and a jumble of emotions swirled inside Janey as she ran up to the short, round woman and hugged her fiercely. Here was someone who actually knew her; who might be able to help with her mission. And here, in her arms, was a grown female whom she’d just seen as a child – was it only a few weeks ago? Louisa’d been about the same age then as Lucas, and now here she was again, looking older than her own mother.
What had happened in the meantime? What about the letter? What about Louisa’s father?
“Louisa, I have to know,” she said, breaking the embrace to step back and look into the woman’s eyes, which still twinkled as merrily as any mischievous seven-year-old’s. “What happened to the letters? Did you join your father?”
Janey might have imagined the fleeting look of pain that shot across Louisa’s eyes, but the woman turned briskly from Janey.“That’s for a quieter time.Who is this young man here? A travelling companion?”
“I’m Lucas George, and me and my pa are building a new home back there,” said the boy solemnly, offering his hand to shake.“Is you a woman with them breeches on?”
Louisa laughed again. “I am. Watch.” She untucked some of the bulky material around her already generous waist and let it fall to the ground. Instantly she was dressed in an ankle-length skirt, with the leggings hidden demurely underneath.
“I can’t ride properly with a skirt on,” she explained, “but before I reach town I do this to look decent. Otherwise I’d scandalize the Reverend.” She giggled, then looked at the pair.“I think I got the idea from you, Jamie.”
Lucas looked puzzled, but before he could ask any questions, Louisa asked one of her own. “Want a ride into town? Blackfoot could carry all three of us.”
Janey was grateful to be off the icy ground and nestled comfortably against Louisa’s back. She was dying to ask more questions, but thought it might be better to wait until Lucas was out of earshot. Instead, she half-listened as Louisa questioned Lucas about the house his father was building, and marvelled at the fact that she was holding onto a woman who had, for Janey, just been a little girl.This must be what all those old people felt like who hadn’t seen a kid in a few years. Granny must have felt like this when she saw me at the airport, Janey realized.
Her mind wandered. Old people must see an awful lot of stuff changing, she mused. Suddenly, she sat bolt upright. That old woman in the market! No wonder she knew me, she thought excitedly. That was Louisa! This Louisa! Louisa Black Bear! I’ve met her before! I mean, even before the fort time!
Burbling with impatience, she hardly noticed that Louisa had reined the horse to a stop.“Louisa! Louisa, we have to talk.”
“Not now, Jamie. I have an errand to run.” Louisa slid down and unhitched her skirts from her waistband. Her passengers tumbled after her, then followed as she led the horse around a bend and onto a broad, rutted road. A motley assortment of wooden houses and false-fronted shops lined the avenue. One wagon lumbered past, wheels screeching. Church bells rang out over the scene, curiously empty of people except for a small crowd gathered in front of a two-storey building with the words J.A. McDougall’s General Store grandly displayed in the two large front windows. Louisa hitched her horse, then headed toward the store. Just before Louisa reached the wooden sidewalk, Janey pulled her over.
“Um, Louisa? What year are we in?”
“I remember you asked Mama the same question,” she said, turning to study Janey.“She said then that you were a child who had lost her way. I can see that now.” Louisa’s dark eyes penetrated Janey’s. “It’s 1882.”
The woman was about to turn away when she stopped, and added, “In public I am called Mrs. Black Bear by almost all the white people in this place.You can do the same.”
Janey fell back a step. Louisa’s sparkling eyes might have been those of a little girl, but the lines around them were deep and creased and her body moved with the swaying dignity of a middle-aged woman. The mischievous little girl with the unstoppable tongue had become an adult who not only weighed her own words, but expected others to do the same.
THE MEN GATHERED in front of the store parted to let Louisa through to the door. Before she reached it, however, it flew open and a young, pretty woman dashed out, grabbing Louisa by the hands.
“Oh, Mrs. Black Bear! Did you find some? I’ve been so worried about my sweet little Alice.Wherever did you...? Oh, how foolish of me! Do come inside, please. Of course, the store’s not open because it’s Sunday, but I’ve been watching for you...” She bustled Louisa in, and Janey followed on her skirts, while Lucas planted himself on the boardwalk outside.
The store’s interior was high-ceilinged and lined with display cases. Bolts of cloth, kitchen utensils, building tools, and canned food were stocked on shelves, while sacks of flour and seed were propped against them. A wood stove glowed cosily in the corner, where a small baby fretted in a cradle.
“I’m just so worried about her, Mrs. Black Bear. With my mother so far away, it’s so hard...”The young woman’s voice trailed away helplessly.
Louisa pulled a small, stoppered bottle from her pocket and handed it to the young woman. “Your baby will be just fine, Mrs. McDougall. Rub this oil on her chest every few hours and that will help. And give her lots to drink.The fever dries a baby up.”
