Godfrey: Book Two

They hadn't had to concern themselves with irrigation back in Saint Timothée - their access to the Saint Lawrence and the Beauharnois Canal being more than adequate. Sighing with exasperation, Godfrey wiped the sweat from his brown and returned to weeding as he wondered what to do.

  The United Farmers of Alberta, son. You haven't heard of us?"

  Godfrey shook his head as he accepted the pamphlet the man offered him.

  "John Love. He'll be our man in Edmonton. Going to stick up for farmers. Are you a farmer, son?"

  Godfrey nodded.

  "And are you eligible to vote, son?"

  Godfrey wished the man would stop calling him son. "Yes, I'm a farmer and I'm eligible to vote."

  The man clapped him on the shoulder just as Leo came out of the pharmacy. "Excellent! Take another pamphlet - one for your friend," he said, glancing at Leo. "And be sure to spread the word. United Farmers of Alberta. John Love."

  "Got it."

  "Thank you for your time."

  "What was that all about?" asked Leo, glancing at the pamphlets in Godfrey's hand.

  "Some guy from the United Farmers of Alberta. Who are they exactly?"

  Leo shrugged. "Exactly what their name says. What is it with you and not understanding regular names? Cheval is horse. United Farmers of Alberta is the farmers of Alberta. United."

  Despite his seemingly impatient tone, Leo's face wore an amused expression.

  "And? What do they do? What do they stand for?"

  "They stand for farmers," Leo answered, taking one last look at the man as they turned and headed for the hitching post where they'd tied their horses. "Basically they're a cooperative turned political party. They want what's best for farmers. Better prices for our crops. Lower freight fees. A single-desk marketing system. Like that."

  "Hmm. Are you going to vote for them?"

  Leo chuckled. "I don't vote."

  "Why not?" Godfrey asked, perplexed.

  "Because. Politicians are all the same. No matter what they claim to stand for. They're all in it for the money."

  Godfrey disagreed, but said no more. "So you probably don't want a pamphlet?"

  He held out the extra pamphlet the campaigner had given him.

  "Hell no. I'd sooner wipe my horse's arse with that."

  "Alright. Just thought I would ask."

  Godfrey pocketed the pamphlets, but made a mental note to talk to Isaac about the upcoming provincial election. Perhaps he'd have more sage advice to give.

  July 2, 1921

  Dear maman,

  How are you? How are Jules and Arthur and Rosa and Delphina? Have I missed any big events? How's Rosa doing in school? Does she like it? I'm picking up English pretty quickly. I work at it every day and I'm almost as good as Leo now - and he's been out here four years longer.

  There are lots of Quebecers here. A lot of families and extended families. Mainly from the Monterégie, but a few from further north and east as well. There are the Touchette's, the Rajotte's, the Messier's, the Benoit's, the Lapalme's, the Labonté's - and that's just a few. I'd guess that there are about three or four hundred in total. And what's even better is that they all stick together - the Quebecers that is. Except for the Côté's and the Larivière's - they're a little dysfunctional and somewhat like the other Leduc's of Saint Timothée.

  Anyway, I was thinking today that you'd really like it out here. If I sent you the money for a ticket - would you come and visit? It'd be good to see you. You can bring Rosa too as kids under ten are free on the CNR.

  I miss you all very much. Leo and Isaac send their regards. Say hello to papa.

  Love always,

  Godfrey

  "Pass the potatoes, would you please, Godfrey?"

  "Of course," the young man replied, taking up the pot of mashed potatoes and handing it to his sister-in-law.

  "Great meal, Antonia," said Leo, digging eagerly into his tourtière. "Just like back home."

  Isaac's wife smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying it. Bon appétit."

  "Did you hear about the Laroute's?" asked Isaac suddenly.

  Antonia shook her head. "No. Why? What happened?"

  "Their youngest - the little boy there - Joseph or whatever - " he stopped as he spooned a quantity of steamed peas onto his plate.

  "Yes? What? What happened? Something bad?"

  Isaac nodded grimly. "He drowned. In the pond behind their house."

  "Good Lord in heaven."

  Antonia crossed herself and Godfrey did the same.

  "How is she coping? Mrs. Laroute."

  Isaac shrugged as he struggled to spear a stubborn carrot with his fork. "Don't know. I only heard the news today - from Mr. Welch. When I was getting the lumber."

  Antonia sighed and began to chew vigorously, a nervous habit of hers that Godfrey had come to notice.

  "When we have children, Isaac, they're not going anywhere near a body of water until they're old enough to swim."

  Isaac smiled in disbelief. "We can hardly do that. Kids are drawn to the water like fish to the sea."

  Antonia shook her head vehemently. "Not our kids. I'll keep them under lock and key if I have to."

  Godfrey caught Leo's eye and suppressed a smile as he imagined what his brother was thinking. He'd complained about Antonia's anxiety before and had said that her behaviour was partly what dissuaded him from taking a wife.

  "How's your crop coming a long, little brother?" asked Isaac, clearly intent on changing the subject.

  Godfrey nodded, acknowledging the question as he hurried to gulp down the food he'd just put in his mouth. "It's good. Excellent, actually. I think it's going to be a good one...and I might be able to pay Uncle Benjamin back as soon as this year."

  "Beginner's luck," Leo muttered, as though disappointed Godfrey stood to make a profit his first year.

  "Hey now," said Godfrey, bristling. "How about the whole Wheat Board thing. Two-eighty a bushel last year. Two-ten a bushel this year. I'm earning less."

  "That is a fair point, little brother," said Isaac cheerfully, casting a challenging gaze at Leo.

  "Alright, alright. But remember that drought we had our first year?" Leo asked, staring at Isaac. "I thought it was going to be like that this year."

  "But then it rained," said Godfrey stiffly. "And my crops came in. Boo hoo."

  "Just be thankful, little brother, that it did finally rain. 'Cause Leo's right, you know. Our first year here - nineteen sixteen - it hardly rained a lick. And after harvest, after all the bills had been paid, we were still in the red. And being in the red in war time isn't good at all."

  "Well, let's just be glad for him then, shall we," said Antonia, trying make a foray into the conversation.

  She smiled at Godfrey and he smiled back appreciatively.

  "Poor guy. Would have probably had to sell up and go back home. You two," she said, staring across the table, "should be happy he got lucky. It takes a bit of luck to succeed in this business. When my dad came out here, he hardly had a penny to his name either. But it's been almost ten years now and he turned a profit eight of those ten years. And so he made it. But not everyone makes it. We had this neighbour even. Mr. Mallette. He left the year after we arrived. Couldn't take it anymore. Kept losing money. His land was no good. Too much water. Dad bought him his train ticket home. Poor guy. I wonder where he is today..."

  "Yeah, well. That isn't going to happen to Godfrey here. I'll even square up his bills this year if he can't."

  Godfrey looked at his older brother, about to say thank you, but Antonia spoke first.

  "You can afford to pay your brother's bills - yet you don't know whether we can afford to buy that half section at Irma?"

  Isaac sighed. Deeply. Irritably. "Sweetheart, I want to get you that half section. I just need a little more time. I'm happy in Greenshields at the moment. We've got this great house that we built," he added, extending his hands in gesture towards the walls of their sturdy, single-storey home. "I don't just want to pack up and leave. It's n
ot happening. Not for another year at least."

  Godfrey felt a sudden chill descend upon the room - even though outside it must have been close to eighty degrees - and he exchanged a nervous glance with Leo. Leo however, seemed little fazed by the change in atmosphere and he continued eating, even reaching across the table to help himself to more potatoes.

  "Well, that - "

  Antonia stopped herself and stared down at her plate, speechless. Godfrey peeked at her out of the corner of one eye. She was completely motionless.

  "Sweetheart, I - " Isaac began.

  "No. No, Isaac. You just sit and eat your dinner," said Antonia angrily, pushing her chair back roughly and rising to her feet, "and when you want to talk about moving to Irma, I'll be ready and waiting. Until then, I don't want to speak to you."

  With that, she turned and left the dining room.

  "Well, that's women for ya, you see, Godfrey," said Leopold, chewing through a mouthful of food, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  "Don't talk about my wife, Leo," said Isaac, his tone dangerous.

  "I'm sorry if that bothers you, Isaac. But I'm simply making a point to our little brother - that's what in store if ya decide to get married."

  Isaac said nothing and no one spoke for the remainder of the meal, the scraping of forks and gargling of water being the only sounds to punctuate the silence.

  July 19, 1921

  Dear Godfrey,

  I've not been well. Having a lot of headaches these days - and not much appetite. Doctor Roy says it's just "lady troubles", but I have my doubts. Pauline said I should go and see a physician in Salaberry-de-Valleyfield or even Montreal to get a second opinion. I don't know. I recite the rosary everyday and have prayed to Sainte Germaine Cousin and Sainte Louise de Marillac. Perhaps my suffering shall abate soon.

  That's enough of your mother's doom and gloom though, You said you wanted to hear how everyone's getting on. Well, Rosa started school this year, as you knew she would. She's really enjoying it and Madame St. Gelais says she's one of the most promising pupils she'd had in years. Jules is in fourth grade now and he's struggling a bit with all the extra reading. As for Delphina, she's made some new friends and broken off with some others. I'm glad that she's no longer friends with the Perreault girl. There always seemed to be trouble between them. Arthur is growing into a fine young man. Very capable. He's helping your father a lot on the farm and slowly taking over the jobs you used to do.

  Godfrey felt a wave of guilt flood over him as he read this line.

  I suppose we still feel your absence when it comes to the farm tasks. But then again, as much as I've missed you, you being gone has been a blessing in a way because your father has much more work to do now and he can't be running off to his woman in Chateauguay. At least not as often. I think he's only been twice since you've been gone. I've come to terms with his infidelity so don't feel bad for me. You're a good son, Godfrey, and I can imagine what you're thinking as you read this. Don't curse your father. He's just a foolish man when it comes to affairs of the heart. I pray he doesn't go to hell for his actions.

  Say hello to your brothers for me and to the Messier's. Everyone here, including your Uncle Benjamin and Aunt Josephine send their love.

  Good luck, my son.

  Maman

  "Once we get the last beam in place, it'll be a quick job," said Leo from his perch atop the skeletal roof they'd constructed thus far.

  Godfrey nodded and glanced at Isaac who was clutching his side. "Something the matter, Isaac?"

  "Nah, it's fine," he answered, waving his hand. "You two keep working. I'm just going to sit down for a minute."

  "Pass me that beam, little brother."

  Leo was getting impatient.

  "Here," said Godfrey, lifting it from the ground and holding it upright so he could grab hold of it.

  "Good. Now walk with me," and with that, Leo pulled the heavy length of wood up with one arm.

  Godfrey held the bottom and walked forwards as Leo positioned the beam alongside the others.

  "I'll need some more spikes."

  "Here," said Isaac, seated against one of the corner posts.

  He held out the tin bucket that contained the six inch framing nails.

  Godfrey took the bucket and handed it up to Leo.

  "Good. Now just get up on the crate and hold the other end while I nail this in."

  It took ten minutes of intense hammering, but when the last beam was finally in place, Leo hopped down, a look of triumph on his face.

  "That's it. Now all we've gotta do is get the slats on and then some shingles. Unless you wanna go with sod. The Skinner's have a sod roof. Have you seen their house?"

  Godfrey wasn't sure. "The Skinner's are the ones beside the school, right?"

  "That's right."

  "Yeah, I've seen it. Better insulation than shingles? The sod?"

  "It can be," said Leo slowly. "Trouble is when it snows - you've got all that weight - Isaac? What's the matter? You alright?"

  Godfrey turned to look at Isaac who was now doubled over in pain, gasping for air.

  "Jesus..."

  "Isaac!"

  "Quick, get him up," said Leo sternly. "And fetch my horse. Hitch up the wagon too."

  Godfrey took off running. When he returned ten minutes later, Leo had Isaac propped up against the corner post.

  "It's right here," he said, clutching his lower left side. "It feels like fire."

  "We've gotta get you to the clinic."

  "Let's go. Is Doctor Packham still open, you think?"

  Godfrey shook his head. "I don't know. I've never been to his clinic."

  "We'll have to go to the Anderson's," said Leo, beads of sweat running down his nose. "That's only four miles from here."

  "Who are the Anderson's?" Godfrey asked as they helped Isaac into the wagon.

  "Vets. Both of them. They do good work."

  "We're taking Isaac to a vet?"

  Leo grunted but didn't answer as he climbed into the driver's seat. "Damn good thing I bought this Hackney from the Rajotte's. He can pull a rail car if he has to."

  Godfrey climbed in beside him, but immediately turned in the wooden seat to watch over Isaac, laid out on the sacks of hay in the bed of the wagon. Leo whistled, cracked the reins, and they were off.

  "Roads are dry. We're lucky."

  Godfrey nodded. His hands were shaking and he felt a little nauseous.

  "What do you think's wrong with him?"

  Leo shrugged. "Not a clue. I've seen men doubled over like that and then an hour later they're perfectly fine. Could be anything. Mr. Anderson's a smart fellow though. He'll figure it out. And if not, I'll call on Doctor Packham."

  "Appendicitis?"

  "Appendicitis."

  Godfrey helped an ashen-faced Antonia seat herself on the couch.

  "And where is he now?" demanded Hermenegilde as he paced the livingroom of the Messier home.

  "At the Anderson's. With Doctor Packham. But they're getting him prepared to go to Edmonton. Doctor Packham removed his appendix, but he's concerned with the way he closed it all up afterwards. He wants them to have a look at it in Edmonton. At the hospital."

  Antonia let out a pitiful moan as her mother wrapped her arms around her. Godfrey glanced at Hermenegilde.

  "Well, we're going to follow them to Edmonton. Rosanna. Get your coat. Antonia. Let's go. Can you stay and watch the house, son?"

  "I...yes...I can do that," answered Godfrey.

  The boorish and portly Hermenegilde looked satisfied. "Good. You'll have to feed the cats and I'm not sure - whatever else Antonia needs you to do. Antonia? What needs to be done while we're away?"

  The young woman, her face still wearing its shocked expression, took a long time to reply. "Um...there's..."

  "Come on, darling," cooed Rosanna Messier encouragingly as she rubbed her daughter's back. "What needs to be taken care of? Will you need more ice for the ice box? Will the stove in the hen house need l
ooking after?"

  The young woman nodded, her eyes still exhibiting the shock she felt at hearing about Isaac's health scare. "Yes...yes to both of those. And..." she looked at Godfrey now and Godfrey thought she looked as though she'd just seen a ghost, "there are some strawberries on the counter...that need canning. Corine can help you with that."

  Rosanna Messier moved her head in long ups and downs. "Yes. Corine can do the canning. Godfrey?"

  She turned to face him.

  "Yes?"

  "Can you mind the stove in the hen house and stock the ice box whenever Mr. Newman delivers it?"

  "Yes, of course."

  "Good, that's settled then," Hermenegile barked. "Now, let's go. Both of you. We'll stop at the house and tell Corine to come here in the morning. Alright, son? You're good?"

  Godfrey nodded.

  "There's...bedding in the closet...and you can sleep in the guest room," said Antonia slowly as her mother helped her to her feet.

  "Don't worry," said Godfrey gently. "I'll figure it out. You go and see my brother. Make sure he pulls through. I need him."

  Though he said this with a smile - having no doubt that Isaac would survive - Antonia seemed to look even more surprised and Hermenegilde and Rosana suddenly had to assure their daughther that yes, everything was going be alright. Finally, after ten minutes of Antonia fretting and dancing about the house in a tizzy, trying to make sure she had everything she needed for Edmonton, the three Messier's left and Godfrey found himself alone in the darkened living room.

  So much for getting my house built...

  Chapter Eight

  August. Hot and dry with little respite, save for the occasional rainy afternoon. Farmers' fields - pale gold, emerald green and canary yellow - depending on the crops they'd planted. The sky, an endless canopy of blue during the day and pinkish-purple at night. The streets of Wainwright, dusty and well-trodden. Horses hot under the summer sun, flicking at the flies assaulting their backsides. Women in town on Sunday afternoons for shopping, donning their finest lace-trimmed hats and long, flowing dresses, transforming Wainwright's public square into an impromptu fashion event. Men, tired and cranky from days spent working in the stifling heat, their necks burnt to various shades of burgundy red and coffee brown. Carefree children making the most of their summer holiday - swimming at Clear Lake and playing baseball at the park. Everyone waiting for the weeks to pass and the harvest to begin.