All Fall Down

by Jean Little

  I limp along trying to hold Davy with one arm and the cane Uncle Martin loaned me with my free hand. We are quite a sight.

  Bird was serious about staying away from the mountain. Her eyes grow wide when it is mentioned. When she hears anyone talking about opening a new section of the mine, she almost begins to tremble. Her grandfather says danger is waiting. Danger and even death. She believes her grandfather is the wisest man in the world.

  Whenever the mountain is mentioned, he shakes his head and grows upset. I’ll bet he has heard about the way it rumbles and loose pieces of coal fall down inside. It frightens me to think about this.

  Tuesday, August 19, 1902

  I helped with canning all day. My ankle is throbbing now and I’m too tired to write.

  Wednesday, August 20, 1902

  Uncle Martin and Aunt Susan have told Mother I must go to school! Uncle Martin said I was far too intelligent to do nothing but mind Davy. He also said I had showed how quickly I learned things by mastering the Morse Code so speedily. Mother wants me to go too, of course, but she is worried about Davy. Aunt Susan said firmly that there are plenty of people here to keep an eye on him.

  “Olivia for one,” she said. “He is her brother too and it is time she faced that fact. She should grow to know him. She hardly looks at the child, let alone helping out with his care.”

  I was sitting silent in the corner, not believing my ears, but when she brought up Olivia, I had to speak.

  “Davy is afraid of her,” I told them.

  “Abby, stop talking to the floor. We can’t make out what you’re saying. What was that?” Uncle Martin boomed at me.

  “Davy is afraid of Olivia,” I said, looking straight at them. “She is ashamed of him and somehow, he knows. When he sees her coming near, he crawls away.”

  “If she cannot help, someone else can. Maybe Nellie could be hired to do it. They could use the money and she seems to like him. I have seen her smiling at him, and that girl is not given to smiling,” Aunt Susan said.

  “But she’ll be going to school herself, won’t she?” I asked.

  “No, their family lives near Pincher Creek,” Uncle Martin said. “But when her mother is working here, she often brings the girl with her. Mrs. Fairchild might not mind staying here into the fall and keeping Nellie out for a while.”

  “We’ll discuss it with them later,” Aunt Susan said. “We’ll see what the new teacher thinks too. She’s arriving this afternoon and she’s going to be living here at first. I’m sure we can work it out somehow. But you must go, Abby. We believe in education here.” She sounded as though she was serious — stuffy almost — not as jolly as she usually sounds.

  I wonder what will happen. I love the thought of going to school! And Davy does like Bird. But keeping him out of trouble is not always so easy.

  Later

  The new teacher has come. She is young and pretty, which surprised me. Uncle Martin says she will have trouble with the big boys, but Aunt Susan claims she will have them eating out of her hand in no time. Her name is Jemima Wellington.

  Mother likes her. She took her on a tour of the hotel. When they came back down, I heard Miss Wellington say, “Thank you for filling me in. It helps to know a child’s background.”

  I wonder which child Mother was telling her about.

  Friday, August 22, 1902

  Miss Wellington made friends with Davy and me today. Can you say that about a teacher? Yes, I think you can. She came outside where we were rolling a ball back and forth and she sat and watched. Then she reached out and caught the ball and rolled it to Davy. He saw it coming from a new direction and just sat until it rolled against his leg. Then he made one of his chortles and rolled it away, not to her or to me but between us. We both went after it and Davy laughed as we bumped heads. Then he lay down on the ground and closed his eyes, which means “Stop, Abby.”

  Miss Wellington turned to smile at me. Her smile lights up her whole face. Then she asked me how I would feel about his coming to school with me for a bit. He would be able to see me, but he would get used to someone else taking care of him. If I liked the notion, she would ask Bird’s mother if Bird could mind him.

  I felt myself grinning and I said it would be great.

  Saturday, August 23, 1902

  Aunt Susan went to Bird’s mother and asked if “Nellie” would like the job of helping with Davy in the schoolroom. They will pay her. Her mother thought it would be fine and Bird did, too, of course. As usual, she looked serious when the grown-ups could see, and when they went away, she grinned. She looks like two different girls.

  So Bird and I are going to school together after all. If Davy is good, maybe she can stay longer. She likes reading too. Her father taught her, she says. He has been away working in the city somewhere, but he does sound nice. She has a copy of Pilgrim’s Progress he gave her. He got it second-hand. It says in the front, For Flossie, with her Mama’s dearest love. Bird and I wish we knew who Flossie was.

  I tried to read this book when we lived in Montreal, but it was not easy. I liked some parts, but not all. The March girls in Little Women have copies and act it out but I did not like it as much as they did. Maybe they had fewer storybooks then.

  Later

  Bird’s father has come home for a few days. He came to the hotel this afternoon and took them to visit some relatives who live nearer Pincher Creek and he has also forbidden Bird to go near Turtle Mountain. He agrees with her grandfather that it is perilous. That is the word he uses. She shivers when the subject comes up. I don’t like it either.

  Sunday, August 24, 1902

  Mark says he can smell snow but I think he’s teasing me. I thought it would not snow before November.

  Davy is going to be thrilled. He loves watching things that move — blowing leaves or racing squirrels or flying birds. He might remember snow. But I think snow here will be different from Montreal snow.

  Wednesday, August 27, 1902

  I keep skipping days in this notebook, but life is so busy right now. We have all the regular work, and we are getting me set to start school. Mother is making me a skirt and a sailor blouse.

  I met Jeremiah’s younger sister today. She is a darling little girl. Her name is Polly. She likes walking with Jeremiah and holding hands. She has straight black hair that hangs down over her eyebrows, and huge brown eyes. Most of the time she looks very solemn and then, all at once, she beams at you and it is like the sun shining through a chink in the clouds.

  I keep thinking about school. It will start soon.

  Saturday, August 30, 1902

  Davy took his first step alone! He was standing holding onto a chair as usual and then, all at once, he let go of the chair, took one step and sat down with a flump on his bottom. He was not hurt at all, but he surprised himself and astounded me.

  When I stood him up and put his hands back on the chair, he stared at the carpet as though he was puzzling it out. Once I was back sitting down, he did it again, very carefully and slowly.

  Bump!

  They say people’s mouths drop open in surprise. I am sure mine did. My little brother got up slowly and stood still for a moment. Then he did it for the third time and laughed. Maybe by the time he goes to school with us next Tuesday he will be taking more than one step at a time. He doesn’t hurt himself. His thick nappies soften his landing, but that is not the whole story. Having such short, stubby legs is part of it. He hasn’t far to fall and he doesn’t topple exactly. He sinks.

  He was so proud of himself. When I called them, everyone — even Olivia — came to applaud.

  Sunday, August 31, 1902

  Davy and Bird and I went with Miss Wellington to the schoolhouse today. We swept the floor and cleaned the blackboard and took the erasers out and banged them on the outside wall. Davy loved helping with that part, although he dropped the erasers often and got covered with chalk dust.

  Miss Wellington had boxes of books and pictures to sort out. She had brought them from her ho
me. She had other supplies too. It was exciting smelling the chalk and crayons and mixing up paints and making paste.

  September 1902

  Labour Day

  Monday, September 1, 1902

  Today is my twelfth birthday. That’s why I am up so early. Are they remembering? Surely Mother will. But everything is so different here and everyone is so busy. She hasn’t mentioned it.

  After breakfast, we are going back to the school with more things for Miss Wellington’s classroom. My ankle still twinges, which will give me an excuse to sit down sometimes.

  I had just written that much when Mother slipped into my room and quietly wished me a happy day. She kissed me then and gave me a mechanical pencil to use when I write in my notebook. It is great! You don’t have to worry about upsetting the ink bottle or making blots.

  We did not mention my birthday at breakfast. I told Mother I thought she had forgotten; she looked at me as though I was a stranger. Then she said, “Never would I forget my Abby.”

  I asked her what time of day I was born, but she did not answer. When I asked again, she said she couldn’t remember. I can hardly believe this, but she left the room before I could press her.

  Olivia said she was born at three in the afternoon. She sounded so smug that I changed the subject.

  Afternoon

  Mark has been hanging up pictures and maps for our class.

  I am getting excited about coming here tomorrow as a proper pupil. Bird is too, although she is not letting it show. I think she’s afraid something will go wrong and she won’t be allowed to come after all.

  I wish Davy could understand what will happen. He liked being there with us doing the cleaning and sorting. He unsorted things, but nobody minded.

  While we stopped to eat our lunch sandwiches, I let out the news that it is my birthday. Everyone clapped and sang. It was lovely.

  Then Miss Wellington made us come home early and she slipped out to the kitchen to speak to Mrs. Mutton. I should have guessed, but I didn’t. Luckily we had supper a bit late and, at the finish, in they came with an iced cake and candles and wished me a happy birthday.

  Mrs. Mutton told me I should have said something earlier on and she could have made me a special cake. This was one she had ready for dessert, but when Miss Wellington told her what day it was, she made special icing and put in the candles.

  I told her it was the proudest birthday cake I had ever had. I didn’t say that I did not have one at all before we moved to Alberta. Father did not believe in celebrating birthdays. “Gimmie, gimmie days,” he called them. Mother would quietly wish us a happy time, but Father acted as though it was the same as any other day.

  Yet when I went to bed, there were two parcels on my pillow. One was from Aunt Susan. It is a beautiful blue scarf which she says matches my eyes. The other is a book of poems. It isn’t new. In the front Jemima Wellington is written in black ink. Miss W. has written in From over her name and then for Abby in blue ink underneath. Then it says Happy Birthday for a girl who loves poems. She must have heard me reciting the Robert Louis Stevenson poem about swinging when I was pushing Davy yesterday.

  Anyway, I am now TWELVE! And I had a cake and presents! Davy is asleep so I can read poems before I put out the lamp.

  Tuesday, September 2, 1902

  First day of school

  We started attending officially this morning.

  Miss Wellington was already there when we clustered outside the classroom door. She smiled and said good morning to each of us as we arrived. I had Davy by the hand, but when he saw Bird waiting inside, he tried to trundle over to her. He managed a step before he had to crawl. I was glad and sad at the same time.

  When the clock struck nine, Miss Wellington lined us up and took something from her pocket. We were astonished when she began to play a song on a mouth organ and we found ourselves marching into our classroom. She played “God Save the King” too. I still feel strange singing “king” instead of “queen.” Then we said The Lord’s Prayer and took our seats. I was going to school at last. It was hard to believe.

  Bird and Davy have a table right behind my desk and Miss Wellington had put things there for them to do. There was a jar of big buttons to string on a shoelace. He loves doing it. When they are all strung, he takes them off carefully and starts all over. And Bird murmurs, “Good, Davy.”

  Davy loved that. I wanted to hug her but I couldn’t, not at school.

  Connor was there. So was Jeremiah’s cousin Mary Ruth and some other girls my age. Two of them are named Priscilla and Mildred. They looked sideways at Davy and poked each other. Jeremiah’s little sister Polly is the youngest in the class. Connor’s sisters are too young to come to school yet. But Connor sat right across the aisle from me. There is another small boy called Joseph who is extremely shy. He kept his head down and never spoke a word.

  It was nice to see some familiar faces.

  Davy, with Bird holding onto him, stood at the window gazing out, watching leaves fall from the schoolyard trees, as wide-eyed as he can get, softly making “oooh” sounds. He certainly was no trouble. Bird stayed right with him, looking serious and not meeting anyone’s eyes but mine.

  After a bit, Miss Wellington quietly took her a book to read. It was Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Bird’s face brightened. She moved so Davy was still steady and began to read Alice. We were all three of us totally happy.

  When it was time for recess, Bird stayed with Davy but the teacher told me to go out and breathe some fresh air.

  I’ll tell what happened then, later.

  After supper

  At recess, Mildred and Priscilla came up and began asking about Davy. They pretended they were interested, but really they were being mean. I tried to keep my face blank, but it was hard.

  “What’s wrong with your brother?” Priscilla said in a sugary voice. “Why do his eyes slant like that?”

  She was smiling but it was a put-on smile, not friendly.

  I didn’t know what to say so I did not say anything.

  “He must be foreign,” Mildred said. She smirked and gave Priscilla a jab with her elbow.

  “Stop it, you two,” Mary Ruth told them.

  I remembered she was Jeremiah’s cousin and I felt grateful, even though she did not smile at me. When I saw her in school today, I thought back to when we arrived in Frank. She was at the station to meet Jeremiah. She looked me over with eyes filled with questions, but she did not speak.

  Jeremiah said, “Greetings, Mary Ruth. Why don’t you try saying ‘Hello’?” in a loud voice. But she went red and stepped aside with a swish of her long skirt. I wish he hadn’t teased her. She seems nicer than Mildred and Priscilla.

  “Are those noises he makes meant to be words?” Priscilla asked, as though Mary Ruth had not spoken.

  I longed to slap her face. I told them to watch what they were saying or I would report them to Miss Wellington.

  “Teacher’s pet,” Mildred jeered.

  “Quit that,” Mary Ruth snapped.

  Priscilla sniffed and backed away.

  Mildred tossed her head and announced that her mother would not like her being at school with a red Indian and a backward boy.

  None of us had seen Miss Wellington come out. She stood silently listening. She did not speak until Mildred finished. Then she said in an ice-cold voice that she would go over to have a talk with Mildred’s mother as soon as school was dismissed.

  “If they want me to stay and teach here,” she said quietly, “Davy and Bird will stay too.”

  I knew from something Uncle Martin had said that getting a teacher to come to Frank had not been easy. I longed to cheer. Mildred went very red and said please don’t talk to her mother. She had not meant anything rude. She was sorry.

  Mary Ruth moved so her back was turned toward Miss Wellington. Then she winked at me and grinned. I think I will get to like her even if she is a bit pushy. I think she enjoys being the boss. I wanted to wink back but I couldn’t.
Miss Wellington would have caught me.

  We all went back in and no more was said. I saw another teacher talking to Miss Wellington later, looking worried, but Miss Wellington just laughed.

  Mother is giving Davy a bath, so I can keep on writing.

  When school was over, Mark was waiting in front with the wagon to give us a ride home on our first day. It is a long way to lug Davy.

  “We’ve got room for you, Mildred,” he called. She lives behind the hotel.

  It is plain to see that she is sweet on Mark. (She’s not the only one.) She was a bit flushed, but she climbed in. Davy patted her arm. She was wearing a bracelet. “Ooooh!” he said, smiling at her. She started to snatch her arm away, but then she stopped herself and smiled back. It was a weak smile — but still, a smile.

  I had schoolwork to do tonight. I have forgotten a lot. I had to review my times tables, for one thing, and study a list of Spelling words. Davy went to sleep early, which was a blessing.

  When I was putting on my nightgown, Mother told me the teacher had said it was no trouble having Davy there with me today. I don’t think she told Mother about Pris and Mildred. I’m relieved. It would make Mother sad. And angry.

  I just had a surprising thought. Could it be that Mildred is jealous of the extra attention Davy and I are getting and that’s what made her call me “teacher’s pet”. Miss Wellington is being awfully nice to us. I think she really likes Davy.

  I did hear one other bit Miss Wellington said, which pleased me. “I believe it will make Abby’s life easier if she has her brother nearby,” she told Mother and Aunt Susan after supper. “Otherwise, she would be worrying about how he was getting along without her. She’s a fine sister, is Abby.”

  I do try. It was nice to have someone notice.

  Wednesday, September 10, 1902

  Things are better at school now. What with homework, looking after Davy and helping to send and receive telegrams, I don’t have as much time to write in this journal though. Well, I am also reading more. Miss Wellington had some books sent out from her home and most of them I have not read. I am reading Black Beauty at the moment. It is wonderful, although it is heartbreaking at times. There are tear stains on some of the saddest pages.