Jade asked if she could hold the baby. She lifted Daisy out of the car seat with strong, thin arms. When Daisy stretched out her legs, Jade let her stand up.
I loved to watch Daisy being held by someone else. It was like I could see her better as herself. And she could see me, and that made her happy. She jumped and bent on Jade’s knee, dancing to the music. I kind of wanted to dance, too, to try out my new jeans.
A couple of guys asked Jade to dance, but she smiled and said she was taking a break. Everybody gave me a nod of the head or shook my hand. Most people said how cute Daisy was. They were a lot like Drayton Valley people.
“I could use a drink,” Jade said.
She got up and handed Daisy over. I was glad to have her in my arms again.
“You?” Jade asked me. “Or are you still nursing?”
I said I was.
“How about soda water with a little cranberry juice in the bottom?” she suggested. “I used to like that.”
Jade started for the bar.
Out on the dance floor, someone began shouting. The music broke off, then someone crashed into the band platform. The old guys shrank back to the wall with their instruments.
A couple of kids were yelling at each other. The dancers stood still, watching. Everybody in the hall was watching.
One young guy shouted, “You don’t even know who she’s—”
The other one swung a punch and connected with a sound like fudge boiling, a wet plop. The first guy went down, out cold.
At that, three or four other kids rushed onto the dance floor and started hitting wildly. The dancers got out of the way, Sharla among them.
The fight looked nothing like a movie. These guys weren’t good at fighting, but they really wanted to hurt each other. They grabbed each other, clung together, then swung. They hit too slow or bashed heads. Pretty soon, most of them were bleeding and some of them were crying.
A woman at the table beside us stood up on the bench to take pictures. Tears were running down her face. She kept yelling, “Stop, you boys! Stop them!” Then she’d snap another picture. I think she was the mother of one of the boys.
Sharla worked her way back through the crowd.
I was strapping Daisy back into her seat, figuring that was the safest place. I wanted out of there. Those country fights can get bad fast, because everyone’s related.
Somebody smart must have stuck a head out the door and yelled for the cops.
Ron and Grady walked into the back of the hall. They looked really big coming in. Ron still had his long flashlight in one hand.
Grady’s navy parka looked like an RCMP coat. But Grady always looks like a policeman. The one you would want to see coming up to the car window after an accident. I think that’s why he joined the Mounties.
Ron and Grady made their way up to the dance floor. The crowd parted so they could get through.
Sharla gave me my coat and whispered, “Time to go.” Jade tucked the blanket tight around Daisy in the car seat.
Nobody wants the RCMP wives around when people are getting arrested.
The boys had pretty well knocked themselves out already in their fury. One smaller guy still had some fight in him, but Grady held his upper arms in a tight hug. The kid gave up.
We were in the porch of the hall by the time the fighters all came out. I didn’t know if Grady saw us as they went by. He was pretty busy.
Somehow he and Ron got all the fighters out to the police cruiser. They fit four of them in the back seat. The father of one of the boys said he’d drive the last two over to the police station. Ron patted his shoulder and said, “See you there.”
I hoped this was not going to mean a lot of paperwork.
But of course it would.
Ron and Grady drove away, with the father’s truck following.