Chapter Thirty

Yolande

 

Yolande was born on a cold, frosty day in November in the town of Bracken. Dr. Lupien had warned Lea ahead of time that he’d be absent and that she shouldn’t try to give birth with a midwife because of her age. Anything could happen at thirty-six, and Bracken was the nearest town with a hospital.

Lea gazed at the baby girl she held in her arms. Soft, silky, dark hair and fine features—a definite resemblance to the vision Maman had shared with her. The birth had been difficult, but she had been rewarded with a wonderful child who after only a few months was already sleeping through most of the night.

The twins, however, were another story altogether, climbing everywhere they weren’t supposed to, grabbing things from the others with a haughty “mine”, having temper tantrums when they didn’t get their own way, throwing food on the floor. Lea sighed. Two babies, triple the trouble. It would have been so much easier had she only had one, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She was going to make the most of it. Besides, she had the older kids to help out now.

The crop had failed again, and the grasshoppers had been worse than ever, but Nap’s income of thirty-five cents an hour enabled them to buy what food they needed at the general store though they still had to accept relief from the government to feed the livestock.

Then one day, great news came to the family when Nap announced the government was compensating a whole three hundred and fifty dollars to farmers who built an irrigation dam on their land.

“Perhaps you could enlarge our coulee to meet the government standards,” said Lea.

“That’s what I intend to do,” he said. “And it’ll double as a bit of a swimming hole in the summertime for us too—a break from the heat.”

“Oh, boy, a giant pool,” said Claire, her voice enthusiastic. “And we could all learn to swim. Even the babies.”

“No.” Lea gave her head a vigorous shake. “You don’t want them to drown.”

“No.” Several voices echoed her words.

“Life is far too precious,” said Lea.

When Nap began building the dam, Pol, now fifteen, stayed to help him more often than attending school. Unfortunately, they’d lost two more horses when one of them broke into the wheat storage and eaten his fill. Pol had taken the kids to school in Val Marie, but on the way back, the horse collapsed and died, its belly bloated. Belle, the other horse, passed away shortly afterward, leaving Nap no option but to recapture the slightly wild King and Queen. After several attempts, he was able to break them, but not until they spooked and stampeded, one horse jumping the fence while the other dug in its heels, splitting the wagon in two. Nap repaired the cart as best he could with what scraps of wood he could find and continued to train the horses. When they were finally broken, the work on their dam began in earnest. Nap hired a neighbour, a Mr. Laturnes to help excavate it, adding his two horses to make a team of four. Together they ploughed the existing coulee, digging it deeper and wider than ever before. When it was the desired length and width, Pol helped his father to rip-rap the water side. Taking the walls of rocks Nap and Lea had cleared away over the years, they lined the bottom to prevent seepage. The work seemed to suit Pol well. It was good use of his time since he wasn’t very school-minded anymore.

But the greatest surprise of all happened the following summer on an afternoon when Lea thought she’d drop in on some new people in town. She’d heard a woman from France had moved to Val Marie along with the other families who’d come to work the irrigation project. And since it had been a particularly frustrating morning with cranky babies and plenty of crying, she packed up all seven kids in the wagon and drove them to town.

It was a hot day, the kind that tormented them each summer. The sun was merciless, forcing trickles of sweat down their foreheads, but the threat of the heat didn’t worry Lea this year. The wheat had been planted and was growing well. The spring had been wet, and the rains had continued. She knew they’d finally get that bumper crop they’d dreamed of for nine years.

When she arrived at the small house on the edge of town, several children played in the yard, their clothes mismatched and patched, their feet bare. She counted them—ten in total. The cabin they lived in was tiny and dilapidated, in need of a coat of paint and a new roof. Lea clucked her tongue in sympathy. Then she spied a pile of lumber that lay hidden within its shade. Was this going to be used for repairs?

Pol jumped down off the wagon first, followed by Lilian and Claire. Lea handed them each a twin. After helping Denis, she lowered herself, gathered Yolande in her arms, and walked up the path to the house.

A plump, blond woman with her own baby hanging on her hip answered the door. Lea frowned. There was something familiar about her. “Hello,” Lea said. “I heard you were new in town and thought I’d drop by to introduce my family and bring some cookies.”

Several children stopped and stared, the word “cookies” repeated over and over while they licked their lips in anticipation.

The woman gave her a very curious look. “Lea? Is that you?”

“Yes….” Lea drew out the word as though it were a question.

The woman’s face lit up. “Why, you haven’t changed a bit. You’re just as skinny as you ever were.” When Lea gave her a blank stare, she asked, “Don’t you recognize me? I know I’ve put on a few pounds, but…”

“No…I don’t.” Lea searched the woman’s features for a clue, feeling helpless.

“It’s me, Marie-Ève. Don’t you remember? We traveled across the Atlantic together, and then to Quebec City by train.”

Lea’s chin dropped. Nearly losing her grip on Yolande, she threw her arms around her long lost friend. “Marie-Ève? I can’t believe it! What are you doing here in Saskatchewan?”

The blond woman let out a boisterous laugh. “It’s a long story,” she said. “Come inside and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Oh, no. Why don’t we just sit outside where there’s a nice breeze? It’s too hot to go inside today.”

“Good idea.” Marie-Ève said, turning back.

The two ladies sat on the steps, their babies still clinging, the cookies laid out on a plate between them only to disappear into appreciative mouths within a few minutes.

“So what have you been doing all these years?” Lea grabbed the last sweet before it vanished.

Marie-Ève took a bite of her cookie, then began her story. “Well, if you recall, we started out in Quebec City.”

“Yes, I remember. And you hoped to spend your wedding night at Château Frontenac. Did you?” Lea asked.

The woman laughed. “No. But we did stay at a nice little inn. It was quite romantic.”

“Oh, good.” Lea took another nibble of her cookie.

“Anyway, things went well and Guy had plenty of work as a carpenter. I felt like I was back home in France…except for my family. But that soon changed because of Guy’s huge clan.”

Lee smiled since she knew what was coming.

“Such warm people,” Marie-Ève said. “Such a joie de vivre. I just loved them, and I soon felt safe again despite all that happened during the war.”

“I know what you mean. My experience was similar. When I met Nap’s family in Wide View, I felt like I’d found a new family too.”

“That’s good.” Marie-Ève’s face changed. “But then we fell on hard times like everyone else. By that time, we had six kids and no way to support them other than the garden in our back yard.”

Lea nodded, understanding all too well.

“So Guy traveled the rails back and forth across Canada looking for work. Sometimes he’d get a job for a few months, send money home, and then he’d move on, going from one province to the next. Oh, how I’d worry about him every time he left. I’d heard stories about fights in the camps and how men were beat up and left to die. And just as I began to despair, he’d show up at the door. Of course, you can guess what happened every time he’d come home.”

Lea’s eyebrows raised, questioning. “What?”

“Another baby.”

The two women covered their mouths as they erupted into knowing giggles.

“But it must have been tough bringing up so many children on your own,” said Lea.

“Well, yes and no. There were plenty of cousins who gave us clothes. Sometimes they weren’t always in the best shape, but it’s amazing what one can do with a thread and needle and a patch here and there. And Guy’s sister lived close by, so we had lots of help from her. And, of course, as the other kids grew older, they helped too.”

“So how did you end up here?” asked Lea.

“On one of Guy’s trips, he stopped in Swift Current where he joined some men in a hobo camp. And as they ate their beans around the fire, he heard one of them say the government was building an irrigation project near Val Marie. The men were pretty excited and several of them planned to set out the next morning. Guy knew he had to get a jump on them, so he rose in the middle of the night and walked all the way here.”

Lea’s eyes widened. “He walked?”

“Of course. There was no train to Val Marie. What else could he do?” She shrugged. “And when he finally arrived, there was already a long lineup for the jobs. Anyway, to make a long story short, he was the last one hired. And since it was an ongoing job, he sent for all of us.”

“But that must have been expensive, bringing you all here—eleven children!” Lea said.

“Twelve….” Marie-Ève winked. “There’s another one on the way.”

Lea gasped. “Oh, my!”

“I kept saving a little bit in a jar each month. It wasn’t much, but after a while it added up. No one knew about it except Guy and me. So what about you, Lea? We always wondered what happened to you. Remember how we tried to exchange addresses just as the train was leaving? And neither Guy nor I could find a piece of paper to write on?”

Lea nodded and let out a sigh. “It was hard, to say the least.” She recounted the story of how they’d worked for the Gilberts before acquiring their own homestead, about the hardships of clearing the land, and of the hopelessness of the drought. Her voice lowered to a whisper when she relayed what happened to Emma, Palma and Roger, wiping helpless tears as she spoke.

Marie-Ève dabbed her eyes too as she listened. Taking Lea’s hand in hers, she squeezed it. “You poor thing. But everything turned out for the best, hein? You had six children and now this beautiful little girl.”

Lea gazed down at her baby and ran her fingers through her hair, admiring her cherubic face. “Yes, my little Yolande. I had her in November.” She tipped her head toward Pol. “That’s my oldest one over there,” she said. “His name’s Pol. He’s fifteen. He’s helping Napoleon finish the dam.”

“You’re building a dam?” asked Marie-Ève. “But I thought Nap was working on the irrigation project with Guy?”

“Yes, he is,” Lea explained. “He’s building the dam after work and on weekends.”

“On weekends!” said Marie-Ève. “But doesn’t he ever get time off?”

“Not much. But he doesn’t care. Not when the government’s offering three hundred and fifty dollars for it. He’ll do anything to get a hold of that kind of money.”

“Wow! Three hundred and fifty dollars! That’s a fortune!”

“It sure is, and it’s awfully welcome after years and years of living off our garden…and the government.” Lea’s face reddened at her confession.

“It’s okay, Lea,” said Marie-Ève. “We’ve all had to accept help one way or another.”

“I know. It’s just that Nap is so proud. He doesn’t want anyone to know.”

Marie-Ève placed an arm over her friend’s shoulder. “Lea,” she said, her voice earnest, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. The Depression has been difficult for everyone. I think you’ve done quite well.”

Lea nodded. Could it be true they’d succeeded despite everything?

When Lea left Val Marie that day, her heart soared. Perhaps she’d lost Cécile, but now she’d found Marie-Ève, and she knew they’d pick up their friendship where it left off.

One day, Pol ran to the house, a letter in his hand. “Maman!” he shouted. “It’s from the Government of Canada!”

Lea abandoned the bread she’d been kneading and raced to meet him. Could it already be the cheque they’d awaited? After all, the government officials had already given their mark of approval, impressed by the work Nap had done. “Let’s see.” Grabbing the envelope from him, she frowned. “Why has it already been opened?”

“I’m sorry, Maman,” Pol said. “I couldn’t wait. I had to look.”

Lea took the contents out and read it. She let out a whoop.

“What is it?” Lilian jumped up from the floor where she was having a pretend tea party with the younger children. The others turned, their eyes wide with excitement.

“It’s the cheque from the government!” She waved it in the air. “Three hundred and fifty dollars!”

“Three hundred and fifty dollars?” repeated Lilian.

“Yes!” Lea cried. “Three hundred and fifty dollars!”

The cheque passed from Lilian to Claire, then back to Lea again.

“I wanna see it too,” said Denis.

“Okay.” Lea held it down to his level until the boy seemed satisfied.

“What are we going to do with all that money?” asked Claire.

“I don’t know, but let’s surprise Papa tonight.”

“Yeah!” said Denis.

When Nap returned that evening from the irrigation project, a beautifully decorated store-bought cake graced the table. “What’s the occasion?” he asked. “Another baby? It says Congratulations. Congratulations?” He eyed each one in turn, searching for a clue.

Lilian’s finger flew to her lips, a warning for the younger children to keep quiet, but Denis leapt forward.

“We got the money, Papa!” he shouted as he jumped in his father’s arms.

“Denis!” cried Lilian.

“What money?” Napoleon asked.

“The three hundred and fifty dollars,” said Claire. “It came in the mail!”

“Blabbermouths!” Lilian took the cheque from its spot on the cabinet and handed it to her dad.

Nap’s eyes rounded as he read it. He broke into a wide grin.

“So what are we gonna do with it?” asked Lilian.

“I know exactly what we’ll do. We’ll build the new house, the one I’ve been promising all these years.” He slipped his arm around Lea’s waist and kissed her.

“A new house! Yay!” shouted Claire.

“Yay!” The younger children copied her.

The family sat down to dinner, chattering about the details of the new home now that providence had smiled upon them.

“We’ll build it in town,” said Napoleon, poking a piece of potato with his fork. “That way no one will ever have to miss school again because of the snow.”

“But what about the farm?” asked Lea.

Nap laid down his fork and finished chewing before speaking. “I know a fellow who’s looking to rent land. He says he’ll plant and harvest the wheat. I could offer him two-thirds of the crop in payment and keep a third for us.”

“That sounds fair,” said Lea.

“And perhaps Pol could help me build the house since he’s not too keen on school anymore.”

Pol gave a sheepish smile. “Okay.”

A few days later, Nap surprised them again when he gathered the children around him and announced, “I bought a lot in town behind the school today.”

The family broke into excited chatter.

“But that’s not all. I also bought a small house that we’ll move to the site. We can live in it while we build the new one.”

The kids nearly burst with excitement.

“Pol, how’d you feel about starting the basement tomorrow…instead of going to school?”

“Sure,” said Pol, smiling.

Within a week, they’d prepared the small cabin to be moved. Nap and Pol built the formations for the foundation using rocks encased in cement. When they were ready, they transported the temporary dwelling onto the land, moved in, then began planning the rest of the structure. Nap bought a second shack, dismantling it for the lumber. Each day, he and Pol took the wood to the site where they stored it until needed.

When the time came to extend the small house they lived in, Lea set up a tent beside the cabin where they spent the summer months until it was ready.

The new house was the envy of everyone in town. Painted white, it had two front windows, and was decorated with scalloped shingles. Inside, were three bedrooms—one for the girls, one for the boys, and one for Lea and Nap. The living room was large enough to host plenty of company, though it would be difficult to hide Nap’s buffalo berry wine from the RCMP now that they were living in Val Marie. But best of all, the kitchen had a pump so they wouldn’t need to fetch water from the well.

Lea lovingly painted the walls and stenciled them with images of roses. She made curtains for each of the windows with flour sack fabric—pink and blue blossoms for the girls; cowboys and horses for the boys; and for her own room, men and women dancing beneath umbrellas. But the best part about the new house was the outdoor facilities. At last, she could throw away the hated bucket! What a luxury! Lea felt as though she were back in Belgium. She couldn’t wait until Nap built the small barn in the back for King and Queen.

One night, as they sat outside, watching the children play, Napoleon took her hand in his and asked, “Are you happy now, my love?”

“You mean because of the house?” asked Lea. “Of course!”

“No, I mean the rest. I never did fulfill my promise to you,” he said. “I promised you a successful farm, and now I’ve gone and rented it to someone else.”

Lea’s fingers closed around his. “You haven’t broken your promise, mon homme,” she said. “We can still see fields of wheat that stretch out as far as the eye can see. And the skies are still splendid. It’s just we’re not living on the farm anymore. And I’d much rather be here than in Europe with everything that’s happening with Hitler.”

She thought of the second-hand radio Nap had bought and how they’d listen to the news each night about how Hitler had stolen Austria, torn up the Treaty of Versailles, and redrawn the map of Europe. War was imminent at the hands of such a tyrant.

“And you don’t mind if I support the family doing carpentry?”

“Of course not,” she said. “You’re very good at it, so why not?”

They sat in silence for a time, watching the children. Pol would soon be old enough to join the forces should Canada join the resistance against Hitler. And before long, Lilian would be dating. But the other kids would keep her busy for years to come. Yolande crawled up to her and pulled herself up, her little fingers clutching Lea’s dress. Lea bent down and took the little girl in her arms.

Her thoughts traveled to the graveyard in Ponteix where the twins and Roger lay. A familiar hurt tugged at her heart. She’d had difficult times for certain—the solitude, the loss of children, the drought, the grasshoppers, the dust storms, Cécile’s death, Claude’s suicide. But in the end, she had a great deal to be thankful for—seven healthy children, a house, and a husband. She leaned back and watched the movement in the sky. Tall, blackened clouds promised rain.

“Dark castles of hope in the sky,” she whispered.

“What did you say?” asked Napoleon.

“I said everything is perfect as pie.” And with that, she reached over and kissed her husband’s cheek.

 

The End

 

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