by Rita Feutl
Oh joy! Oh joy! She was back at the construction site. Rain pelted down, making her colder and wetter with every second’s passing. But the seconds belonged to this century, and not to some period in the past. Janey stood up stiffly, lumbered over to the fence, and clambered over.
The ride back in the storm felt like she was peddling at least twice her weight in water. By the time she reached home, she was convinced that every eyelash, every buttonhole thread, and every last bit of her sneaker laces were soaked through and through.
As soon as she swung open the garage door, Janey noticed that Marilyn was missing. Dust motes hung motionless in the shaft of odd light that trickled in through the raindrops on the garage window. Had something happened to Granny?
She dropped her bike, flung off her grandfather’s clothes, and ran toward the house.The sight of Granny standing at the kitchen window almost made Janey falter. Instead, she opened the back door.
“Granny! Marilyn’s gone!”
“I’m not surprised, kiddo.Your dad took her out to look for you.”
Janey faltered. Oh, yeah. Her dad. She’d almost forgotten about him in the rush of everything that had just happened.
“Did he...I mean, was he mad at me?”
“The weather’s bad, Janey, and he was worried. I was worried,” said Granny, handing Janey a towel. “I know you’re getting to be a big girl, but you can’t be taking off without letting someone know where you are.” Granny’s voice, uncharacteristically sharp, made Janey look up at the thin woman who had turned away to pour a cup of tea.The bright red kerchief on her grandmother’s head made Janey think of the one she’d worn at Edmonton House. But this one hid hardly any hair at all.
Her grandmother poured a cup of tea and moved toward the living room. “Come sit with me, kiddo. I got stuff I need to talk to you about.”
Janey changed out of her wet clothes, then snuggled up beside her grandmother.
“I hear your dad told you about him losing his job and you guys maybe moving out here,” Granny began.
Janey blinked, but said nothing.
“He didn’t tell you the whole story.” She took a sip from her tea.“I’ve gotta go in for an operation. It’s that cancer.The operation’s kind of an iffy procedure. And if I make it, it’s going to take a long time before I’m back on my feet.”
Janey blinked again. What did Granny mean, “if I make it”? What was going on here? She was about to interrupt, but Granny went on.
“I’m telling you all this because I think you were brought out here under false pretences.You’re growing up, and if you’re going to make a decision you need to have all the facts. I don’t want you moving here with any kind of illusions.This place will be a sick house for a while.”
“Granny,” said Janey, her voice small.“What do you mean, ‘if you make it’?”
“Oh, kiddo, when you get to my age, a lot can go wrong on the operating table. It probably won’t, but it’s a possibility.A real possibility.” She took another sip of her tea.
“But...Granny!” Janey’s voice caught in her throat. Tears collected and threatened to spill down her cheeks.
Granny put down her tea and gathered her tearful granddaughter in her arms.“There now, there now. It’s all right.This old body of mine has survived all kinds of calamities, and one more is just...one more.”
“But Granny...this is so...so unfair.” She was wailing now, tears soaking into her grandmother’s T-shirt.
“It’s just life, kiddo. But I’ll tell you something. Since you’ve been out here, you’ve been making me feel...I don’t know, as if I can make it. Maybe it’s just all that youthful energy of yours rubbing off on me. But it’s sure been good having you around.”
They sat quietly for a moment.“When’s the operation?”
“Next Tuesday.”
Janey counted. Four days. Four lousy days left. She started crying even louder. “But Granny, that’s only four days to...to...” Janey’s mind went blank.
“To teach you how to play rummy properly? You bet. Go get the cards.”
“Oh, no, Granny. Not now. Tell me something instead. Tell me...tell me about Grampa. About how you met.”
“You don’t want to hear that old story, do you?” said Granny, fumbling in her pocket until she’d found a clean tissue to give to Janey. Janey blew her nose and nodded. Granny finished her tea and settled in against the sofa.The black, roiling storm clouds darkened the room, but the light from the street lamp caught the raindrops on the window. Janey snuggled in against her grandmother, watching idly as the drops tracked down the pane, and listening to the steady thump, thump of her grandmother’s heart.
“Well. It was just after the war, and I was pretty old by then, maybe twenty-two, and still no steady boyfriend,” began Granny.
“That’s not very old. Mummy says I’m not even allowed to think of marrying before I’m twenty-five.”
“We did things differently then. Anyway, I’m walking along Jasper Avenue in the spring and there’s this nice breeze picking up the scent of lilacs and the sun is out. I’m wearing my red-and-white striped, second-best dress and my new red shoes that pinch my toes but make me look really good. And I’m minding my own business and suddenly the door of the tailor shop beside me swings open and this fella steps out onto the sidewalk and just about squashes my foot.”
In spite of herself, Janey started to giggle.“Was that Grampa?”
“Course it was. Large as life, dressed in the best suit money could buy – he’d just got out of the army – and there he was, stomping all over my foot.”
“What did you do? Scream at him?”
“No! I almost fainted with the pain. Those shoes really were dreadfully tight, but oh, they made me look so good. Still, when your grandfather practically jumped on them...”
“So what did you do, Granny?”
“Well, like I said, I almost fainted, and he had to grab hold of me, and...that was that.”
“It wasn’t exactly sweeping you off your feet, was it?”
“Stomping them off was more like it. But he used to say,‘Amanda Logan, I’d been hunting for you in that red-and-white dress just about all my life. I only stepped on your toes so you wouldn’t run away from me.’” Granny chuckled.
“We had such good times together.” She paused, remembering. “You know, he was really, really excited when you were born. In fact, I think it was him who suggested we call you Janey. It’s too bad you two never met. He’d have loved to see you now.”
“He was born somewhere else, wasn’t he?”
“Yup. His family was from Ukraine and his parents died when he was a kid. An uncle, I think, brought him over here. He seemed to have lost contact with him by the time I came into the picture. But there was an Edmonton family he knew that he kept in touch with for quite some time.”
“Is that where he got the name Kane? It seems a bit short for a Ukrainian name.”
“Grampa shortened it when he was in the army. He was tired of people making a mess of the proper pronunciation. Besides, I liked being Mrs. Kane. Gave me an excuse to buy extra candy canes at Christmas.”
The kitchen screen door slammed, and Janey’s dad appeared.“I see you’re back, Janey,” he said, hanging an old raincoat by the door before he turned to look at her.
Janey rose from Granny’s side and went to face her dad. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I shouldn’t have left you like that. And I’m really sorry about your job.” When he held out his arms to hug her, Janey stepped gratefully into his embrace. “You’re the best,” she whispered in his ear.
“Okay, you two, break it up. Did you bring something home to eat, Alex?” asked Granny, pushing herself off the couch. “I’m suddenly famished.”
“Good,” said her dad, hauling groceries into the kitchen.“Tonight’s menu includes pasta primavera and fresh garden salad. Or, if that doesn’t sit well with the ladies, Chef Kane can scramble up some omelettes.”
THE RAIN HAD STOPPED by the n
ext morning, and Janey was outside checking to see if the sunflowers had survived the storm when her father came up beside her, a mug of coffee in his hand.
“Grampa had this complicated way of staking those flowers; I’m going to see if I can remember,” he said.
“I’m not sure it’s going to be worth it,” said Janey finally. She’d slept badly, waking several times when thunder and lightning seemed to rip through her room. The weather mirrored her thoughts, which dashed between worries about her grandmother and the agony of leaving Toronto.
“What do you mean, Janey?”
“Granny might not make it and then it just wouldn’t be worth it, would it?”
“Honey, it’s just as likely that she will, and then she’d have these beautiful flowers to cheer her on.”
“What happens if she doesn’t die and we don’t move back here?” Janey finally asked.
“Well, in that case she’d have to go into a nursing home for a while, and she’d feel uncomfortable about leaving the house empty for that long. It might be time for her to sell it. Even with the students around, it’s a big job for her.”
“What’s Mummy say about all this?”
“Oh, she’s happy to do whatever we decide. It looks as if she’s going to be getting another assignment anyhow, so she won’t be in Canada lots, whether it’s Toronto or Edmonton.”
They were silent for a bit, watching a magpie chase a neighbour’s cat down the back lane.
“But if Granny dies, we wouldn’t have to move here, would we?” asked Janey, when the bird and the cat had disappeared.
“Well, that’s one way of looking at it,” said her dad, turning back toward the house.
“I didn’t mean... Dad!” she called after him. The screen door banged shut behind him.
ON THE DAY OF THE OPERATION everyone was up early. Because Granny hadn’t been allowed to eat anything since the day before, she took a long bath while Janey and her dad had breakfast.
The two hardly spoke to each other, and had been uncommonly silent over the last few days. Her dad had been busy painting and fixing up stuff around the house. “I’m getting it ready in case we have to sell,” he’d told Janey curtly. In the evenings he disappeared into his old bedroom in the basement. Even Granny was quieter than usual, choosing to spend her time under the lilac bushes in the backyard.
It had taken Janey the past two days to come to a decision. She’d realized, finally, that the disaster she was meant to prevent had nothing to do with her, or with Anna or Lucas or even Louisa. The connection had always been Granny’s locket, and somehow, if Janey was to stop anything bad from happening, it had to do with Granny, who would have been a little girl called Amanda Logan back in the 1920s.That was the only era at Fort Edmonton Park that she hadn’t yet visited – in the past – and it was the one in which she was sure she could prevent something horrible from happening. Deep inside, Janey felt that if she could do this, then somehow Granny would survive her operation.
As her dad swallowed the last of his orange juice, Janey announced,“I’m not going with you to the hospital this morning. I’d rather go to Fort Edmonton Park.”
He stared at her for a moment. Granny came up behind her son and put her hand on his shoulder. “What a good idea, Alex. I don’t want her sitting around that gloomy old hospital on such a glorious summer day.You can pick her up later this afternoon, and then both of you can come and see me when I’m more coherent.”
“Yeah, sure. Good idea. We’ll drop you off,” said Janey’s dad.
“Oh, that’s okay. I’ve got the bike and this way you don’t have to come back for me. I’ll be fine, Dad. And I’ll be here by, when? Four?”
“That’ll be just fine, kiddo,” said Granny, coming over to Janey’s side of the table. “I think it’s time we went, Alex. That toast is looking mighty tempting. Janey, can you get my bag from my bedroom?”
Janey collected the small suitcase on the bed, and brought it out to the garage. Granny followed, the bright red scarf tied around her head.“Janey, once I’m better, could you bring my wig along? I won’t need it over the next few days, but it’ll be nice to have in case someone comes to see me.”
“For sure, Granny.” She gave the suitcase to her dad, and turned and put her arms around her grandmother. “You’ll be just fine, you’ll see. And you’ll be even more beautiful once this is all over, and I’ll bet you’ll even find a new husband.”
“Oh my dear, I wouldn’t quite...”
“It’s true, Granny,” whispered Janey fiercely. “It’ll be all right. I’m going to make it all right for you, Granny.You’ll see.”
Granny pulled back to look directly at her granddaughter. “I’m so glad you came out this summer, Janey. It’s just been glorious to get to know you properly,” she said, eyes glistening. “It’s too bad Grampa isn’t here to see you. He would have been so proud of you. You are quite the strongest, most resourceful young woman I’ve ever met.” She leaned close and whispered: “Look after your dad. He needs a little bit of attention.”
Janey nodded, unable to say anything more. Granny gave her a last squeeze and got into the car. Once they’d driven down the lane, Janey shut the garage door and opened her grandfather’s trunk. Remembering the weather from her last visit, she pulled out the pea coat, a pair of woollen mitts, and the white silk scarf and stuffed them into her backpack with the overalls, flannel shirt, and cap. In the house she found a pair of her dad’s heavy-duty thermal hiking socks, and shoved those in her pack too.
She was the first one through the gate when the park opened.Ten minutes later she was at the fence. An instant later, she was underground.And this time, there was only one tunnel. Pushing, shoving, and sweating, she wedged her way into the small shaft, and struggled up to the surface.
When she emerged, the air was colder than anything she’d ever imagined, and the world was white.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE VAST EXPANSE OF SNOW SURROUNDING Janey sparkled with a cold, clear brilliance that took her breath away.Truly, she could barely breathe, because the frosty air seemed to pinch her nostrils shut whenever she inhaled through her nose. She reached into the pocket of her pea coat, pulled out the white silk scarf, and wrapped it over her face.
As her eyes adjusted to the frozen landscape, she realized she’d come up on a flat, open plain. In the distance, specks of black crept along with ant-like slowness. Squinting, Janey made out small, old-fashioned cars. Her heart leapt. She must have made it to the right era!
The cold chased her along the road, forcing her to break into a run just to keep warm. If this is what Edmonton’s like in the winter, maybe Granny should move to Toronto with us, thought Janey grimly. She reached an intersection at the same time as an old-style truck puttered up from the opposite direction. It turned left, skidding wildly. Janey heard a thump and a groan before its driver found the right gear and drove on toward the rest of the vehicles. Another groan forced Janey’s eyes back to the intersection.
A boy almost as big as Janey was rising from the side of the road, dusting the snow off his sweater. “I almost got all the way there!” he said, grinning amicably at her.
“All the way where?”
“To Blatchford Field, of course!” The boy looked at Janey’s puzzled face. “Wop May an’ Vic Horner? Haven’t ya heard? They’re flyin’ off today, way up to FortVermilion – that’s more ’n 600 miles north a here, an’ it’s minus 33 degrees. Where’ve ya been these last few days? It’s been all over the radio.”
The boy fell into step in the wheel rut next to Janey’s. With no mittens or overcoat, he set an even brisker pace than Janey had earlier.
“I haven’t heard. I’ve just come from...away from here.” She switched the topic of conversation from herself. “What’s so special about this Wop what’s-his-name? Why’s he flying up there?”
“They’ve never flown that far in such cold weather before. But there’s a diphtheria outbreak up in Fort Vermilion an’Wop May an’Vic
Horner said they’d fly the medicine up. They called it the anti-toxin on the radio.”The boy savoured the word slowly, repeating it under his breath as he jogged along.
Unaccustomed to running in freezing temperatures, Janey had to slow down.“But couldn’t they just get it up there some other way?” she asked, hoping her new companion would slow down too.“A truck or something?”
The boy looked at her momentarily, and Janey was struck by how similar his hazel eyes were to her own. “A truck?” he said scornfully. “In this weather? With all this snow? They’d be lucky if they could get dogsleds to bring it up, but it would take weeks! By that time whole towns could be wiped out.”
They had reached the first of the parked vehicles, and more and more cars were pulling up behind them. “C’mon, we’re almost there,” said the boy, picking up speed again.
“Hey, wait a minute! What’s your name?” Janey called.
The boy stopped and turned again. “I’m Oleksiy. An’ who are you, besides not knowing about the biggest thing that’s ever happened in Edmonton?”
“I’m Jamie,” said Janey, puffing alongside.
“Well, I’m pleased to meet you, Jamie, but now could we hurry so we can get to the airfield?”
He pushed through a huge crowd of people milling about near a rickety wooden building.
“Not so fast, buddy.” A huge, uniformed figure stepped in front of Oleksiy.
“But...but I just wanna watch Mr. May take off.”
“You an’ everyone else, buddy. C’mon, stay behind the fence. The less of you whippersnappers on the runway, the easier it’ll be for Mr. May to take off.”
“But...”
Janey tugged at Oleksiy’s arm. She’d spotted a side door into the rickety hangar. If they got into the building, it might open out onto the runway. And even if it didn’t, it would be a darn sight warmer than it was out here.
Oleksiy grumbled as Janey pulled him away, but when she opened the door of the hangar and slipped inside, he followed her quietly. The sudden gloom after the brilliant light made them both stop in their tracks until their eyes adjusted. Then Oleksiy broke the silence with an excited whisper. “That’s the Edmonton, the one Mr. May flew under the High Level Bridge last summer. Ain’t she a beauty?”
