No Small Victory (6 page)

“Of course. I'd even come over to help you, but I have a boatload to do up myself and then there's the cleaning up afterward…. That seems to take even longer!”

“Well, I'm used to hard work,” said Mum. Bonnie rolled her eyes to the ceiling, which made Archie smile.

“But you don't know about preserving suckers, Amy,” said Mrs. Johnson. “Listen—why don't I send Lizzie home with you to help?”

After dinner, Mrs. Johnson refused to let Bonnie's mother help with the dishes. “Angela and I will manage just fine and you need to get back to the suckers,” said Mrs. Johnson.

“Thank you so much for a lovely visit and a delicious dinner,” said Mum. “And it's so kind of you, Alice, to send Lizzie to help me.”

Then Dad got the wagon ready, and Bonnie and Lizzie climbed onto the back while Mum and Dad clambered onto the seat up front.

“Wait! You can't go yet!” shouted Archie as he pelted toward the barn. “I have something for you, Bonnie. You can't leave without it.”

Archie soon rushed out of the barn and raced back. In his arms, he held a furry golden pup. When he sat it on the ground, it started running around him in circles. It was a collie, just like the one Grandpa Brown had back in Massassaga.

“We've been training him to be a cow dog!” said Mr. Johnson. Archie picked up the pup and sat him beside Bonnie. The little fellow promptly jumped up, putting his two white paws on Bonnie's chest.

Startled, Bonnie fell back. “My goodness!” she exclaimed.

The pup jumped off the wagon and whimpered. Archie's face drooped into a look of utter disappointment. Then Bonnie looked down at the little puppy.

“You have all-white feet!” Bonnie smiled. “Just like boots!”

“Hey! You guessed his name!” Archie smiled, hopeful. “I call him Boots.”

“We thought you might like a friend in your new place,” said Angela. “He'll be good company.”

“C'mon, Boots,” said Bonnie. At the sound of her friendly tone, the little dog jumped toward the wagon. Archie lifted him up again. This time, Bonnie stroked the puppy's head. He had a white star just above his nose. “Well, I'll always miss my cat, but you're not bad—for a dog. Thank you, Archie.”

“We can sure make good use of a dog. Collies always make fine cow dogs.” Dad smiled as he and Mum turned around to look back at the little pup.

“But you'll have to take care of him, Bonnie,” said Mum. “He'll need feeding, you know.”

“Oh, sure,” said Bonnie.

“I'll make a warm spot for him in the barn,” said Dad. Everyone knew that farm dogs lived outside and slept in the barn like all the other farm animals. Then Dad handed Mum the horses' reins while he came around back and tied a piece of binder twine around the dog's homemade leather collar and attached the other end of the twine to the front seat of the wagon. Boots whined a bit as they drove away and shuffled around to look for Archie. Bonnie stared at the lonely little fellow and at the sad look on Archie's face.

Suddenly, Bonnie knew just how the dog felt. She pulled him over to her side and stroked his back. Then he set his head on her lap and stretched his long nose across her knees. He lay very still and quiet as the wagon pulled out onto the road leading back to the farm.

Bonnie scratched and patted the white star on his forehead.

The golden pup made a happy grunting sound. When she let her hand fall down beside him, he looked up at her with his big eyes and nudged her hand. Taking the hint, she stroked his head again. While Bonnie vowed never to forget Shadow, she could already tell that Boots was going to be a good friend.

FIVE:
A ROUGH START

Out of the corner of her eye, Bonnie could see Dad scything down the tall yard-grass as she and Mum hurried out the front door. The sky was bright blue. It was the first Monday in October and a cool, gentle wind moved the branches of the maple trees west of the house. Boots ran in and out of the shade of the trees, happily chasing his tail. Bonnie was on her way to school.

Mum tugged at her hand. “Hurry up, child, I don't have all day.”

“I could go to school with Archie and Angela. Why don't you drop me off there?”

“Because I have to speak with your new teacher.”

Bonnie started trotting to keep up with her mother, who was already heading up the steep, twisting laneway leading to the bush. She started swinging her blue tin lunch pail for fun, but her clothes were making her more clumsy than usual. Her wool stockings were itchy, and the garters holding them up bit into her legs.

She had to admit that the rest of her clothes weren't too bad. Even though she didn't have much money, Mum always made sure Bonnie looked stylish. Today, she was wearing a navy blue pleated skirt that her mother had turned upside down and re-hemmed, so the thin parts could be at the very bottom. A clean, starched white middy blouse with a navy blue collar hid the worn bits at the top of her skirt.

“It's too bad this path goes right through the middle of the woods. Do be careful. I'm trying to get you to school on time and with no rips and tears in your clothes—at least for the first day.”

“Golly, Mum. It's hard to walk in these new shiny shoes!” said Bonnie.

“Bite your tongue, child. I had to give up buying a new pair for myself to get those.”

Bonnie noticed the holes in the sides of her mother's brown Oxfords. “I'm sorry. But could I take off my shoes and walk in my bare feet for a while? It'll save wear on them.”

Mum huffed, “Keep them on! I will not let you go to school in bare feet.”

Shadows fell across the path in the woods. Bonnie didn't mind trees, but there seemed to be too many right here.

“Do I have to go through these woods when I go to school by myself?” she asked.

“Yes, but you can see the trail easily. When you see more light come through the maple and oak trees, you'll know you're near the end of the woods.”

They'd come to the edge of the woods and could see the rolling hills beside the Johnsons' farm.

They were on the road now, and Mum picked up the pace. “Now, Bonnie, before we get to school, I feel I should prepare you a little.”

“Prepare me?”

“Yes. Sometimes, schoolchildren pick on the new kid.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when my sister and I started a new school, the children would put our coats and toques on the floor. Viola would get to the cloakroom before me and pick them up. But eventually it got to her, and when she told me what had been going on, she started crying. Well, even though I'm two years younger than Viola, I wasted no time on tears, I can tell you!

“The next day I went around the whole room and dropped all the other coats and toques on the floor and hung mine and Viola's back up on their nails. Then I waited as the pupils came in one and two at a time to get their coats. I'd have fought them if they'd tried to take our coats down again.”

“You…what…?”

“Yes. The ones that complained got a good yelling-at by me. You have to stand up for yourself in a new school. It's the only way or they'll take advantage.”

Bonnie looked up at her strong, brave mother and felt fear rising in her throat. She wasn't a scrapper like her mother. For a while they walked on in silence. Bonnie hardly saw the dusty road beneath her feet, or the rail fence and thick bush on either side of the road. Her mind was now on unknown dangers ahead of her. They crossed a bridge over the gleaming blue waters of Indian River, and Bonnie looked around fearfully for the school building. The dozen or so houses they passed were mostly frame and clapboard—smaller than most farm homes—but there were two brick ones off the road to the right and behind trees. There was only one side street. It branched off to the south.

“Now, here's my advice to you,” said Mum as they headed past the last house in the village. “Stand up for yourself but don't go tattling to the teacher! No one likes a tattletale.”

“But the teacher should know what—”

“He's too busy to know everything.”

“He!” Bonnie gasped. “Mum…did you say
he
? Is it a man? I've never had a man teacher before!”

“Bonnie! Pull yourself together! I'm just trying to prepare you. Now, here's the school. Don't worry too much about being the new kid here. You'll do well, just like you always do with your lessons.”

Mum opened a heavy wooden gate just underneath a flaming red maple tree and pointed across a field of goldenrod and asters. There stood the little, grey clapboard schoolhouse. But Bonnie was staring at the strange swing hanging from the tree. A long, heavy rope was tied to a thick branch high up in the tree. Near the bottom it divided, one part going into an inverted V with a seat across the widest part, the other hanging limply to the ground.

Bonnie followed her mother to the schoolhouse. As they came closer, she saw it had sagging, wooden steps up to the small stoop. An old shed stood at the side where wood was stacked and where pupils had once left horses and wagons. At the moment, however, there was no one in sight.

“Where is everyone, Mum?”

“They're all inside, working on their lessons.”

“We're late!”

“No, I timed it this way. Now that the pupils are busy, the teacher will have time to meet us.”

As they walked up the wooden steps, Bonnie looked right through the cracks and holes to the dusty ground below. But she did not see anything. She was thinking about her new teacher—a man.

They walked quietly through the small vestibule to the next door, where Mum knocked briskly.

In a minute, the door opened.

“Good morning, Mrs.…” Bonnie jumped as the teacher stood there in front of them. He was slim, with grey-green eyes and reddish-brown hair. He looked younger than some of the boys at the back.

“I'm Mrs. Brown,” said Mum. “We're new in the neighbourhood, Mr. McDougall. So I've come to enrol my daughter Bonnie in class today.”

“And this is Bonnie?” the teacher asked.

“Yes, and here's a report from Miss Anderson, her teacher at the Massassaga school. That's in Prince Edward County. Bonnie attended that school for the past three years.”

“Who's that? Shirley Temple?” a voice grumbled from the back of the room. “Do a dance for us, squirt.”

Mr. McDougall lifted his head and gave the back-bench boys a look that would have made a giant shrink.

“I've heard you have a good, iron hand,” said Mum.

“Yes, I do—when it's needed.”

“I'll leave you to it, then,” said Bonnie's mother, handing Mr. McDougall the report. Then she turned and disappeared out the door she had entered.

It all happened so quickly that Bonnie's “goodbye” didn't have time to come out. It turned into a hiccup instead. She stood there, stunned, staring at the four-foot, black box-stove near the door. It had a tin frame around it, which Bonnie thought was strange. Her last school was heated from a big furnace in the basement.

Inside the schoolhouse, the October sun was shining through the tall, narrow windows, throwing beams of dust and light on rows and rows of wooden desks. As Mum had predicted, most of the twenty-five pupils were busy writing in their scribblers. Bonnie looked for Archie and Angela, but she was so nervous she could not even spot Archie's white-blond hair among the darker heads. In the back row, on the east side, sat five big boys who looked too old even for Grade Eight. One of those had called her a squirt.

“Come here, Bonnie,” said Mr. McDougall, ignoring the second hiccup and motioning her to the front of the room. “Stand beside my desk and I'll introduce you to the class.”

Bonnie's hiccups turned into hacking coughs. Mr. McDougall ignored them, too. He just sat down in the big armchair behind his desk and said, “Class, we have a new pupil, Bonnie Brown. I know you will make her welcome at recess. For now, please go back to your work. Lawrence and Tom—no recess for you this morning. You'll be staying in and cleaning the blackboards. Now, Bonnie,” his voice became softer, “I have some questions to ask you.”

“Yes, ss…irrr,” said Bonnie, stopping a cough by putting her red polka-dot handkerchief over her mouth. As she walked closer to Mr. McDougall's desk, she noticed a head of white-blond hair out of the corner of her eye. Archie! So he was at school today. Maybe she'd find Angela in a minute, too.

“To begin with,” said Mr. McDougall, “what grade did you start this September?”

“Grades Four and Five, sir,” Bonnie coughed.

“How could you possibly be in two grades at the same time?”

“Well, I finished Grade Three last Easter; so the teacher started me in Grade Four. She said I'd be finished Grade Four by this Christmas, and could finish Grade Five by—”

“Enough! How many years have you gone to school?”

“Three.”

“How old are you?”

“I turned nine at the end of August.”

“You are the right age for Grade Four.” Mr. McDougall took a book from the stack on his desk and handed it to Bonnie. “You'll do the same exercises as the Grade Fours. Turn to page ten in the arithmetic book and start with those sums.” He pointed to his copy of the book on the front of his desk.

“But, sir, we used that very same book, and I did all those sums. I'm on page ninety-eight!”

“Do you have all those answers with you?”

“No, sir. Only the report from Miss Anderson.” They had left Massassaga in such a hurry that all of Bonnie's scribblers were still at the school.

“I'll read the report in a while. For now, sit at the empty desk in the seat beside Betty.”

Mr. McDougall gestured toward a pale-haired girl at the front of the room, then rose and turned toward the blackboard. As Bonnie walked toward Betty's desk, someone on the other side of the classroom leaned out, grinning and waving—Archie. Bonnie smiled and waved back, relieved.