Olivia's Mine (15 page)

“That sounds wonderful. Doing what?”

“That’s the problem, I’m not quite sure. I
have no skills. I can’t type. I don’t know bookkeeping. It’s not
going to be easy.”

“Maybe Mr. McMichael can find you
something?”

“Mr. McMichael thinks the widow Bentall is
quite insane.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. Frank said
that McMichael always liked you. He said he was always
complimenting you, telling everyone how lovely you are.”

“Oh, I’m sure that part’s true. He came to
visit me a few times at the hospital. It’s fair to say I wasn’t my
best, especially when he was breaking the news about my parents. He
doesn’t look at me quite the same way anymore.”

“I’m sure he still thinks you’re lovely.
Frank says he has quite the crush on you and that the men are
taking odds on, well, the two of you getting together some
time.”

Lucy laughed.

“No. That won’t happen. I just don’t find him
attractive. I know a lot of women do. He’s a handsome man.
But…”

Lucy’s thoughts wandered for a moment.

“You’ll find something, for work I mean,”
Olivia assured her. “Listen, since you want to get out more, why
don’t you come for Easter dinner? Maybe we can come up with some
job ideas for you, together? Frank and I would love to have
you.”

“I’ll think about it,” Lucy said. “It happens
to be my birthday this year. Easter, I mean. Could there be some
cake, do you think?”

“I think that could be arranged.”

“Then I think I will accept your kind
invitation. Thank you Liv.”

“That’s wonderful Lucy,” she said, and gave
her friend a hug.

Olivia returned home humming a light melody,
closing the door quietly behind her.

Frank sighed in relief.

The full moon was shining its light through
the window as Akiko swept the floor in the mining office. The
clock, striking one, reminded her that it was getting late.
Finishing, she closed the door to McMichael’s office, pausing to
spell out the lettering on the nameplate on the door.

“J. W. M-c-M-i- c- h-a-e-l,” she
spelled, reading the name out loud as she did every night. “J. W.
McMichael.”

She had learned her English ABC’s the hard
way, listening as her husband taught them to Jimmy when he was
young. Even today, sometimes when she got stuck, she would sing the
letters out. This was her classroom, alone at night at the office
where she could practice reading and speaking as she cleaned. No
one was usually around to criticize her or think she was slow.

She wiped away some of her long black hair
that had escaped her ponytail and hung in her eyes. It had been a
long day and she was growing tired. One more room to clean and she
could go home. She always left Sarah’s office to the end. Some days
Sarah’s office got a little out of control, but Akiko had been
there long enough to wipe up the spills and know what not to throw
out, and occasionally, what to keep when it had been thrown
away.

Sarah, being Sarah, was extremely
appreciative of this, and often left Akiko a little something in
their secret hiding spot, a brown cardboard box tucked out of sight
under Sarah’s desk. It began one night when Sarah had returned to
work to retrieve her purse. She startled Akiko when she came in,
and she could tell Akiko was hiding something behind her back.
Sarah noticed Akiko’s meal beside her.

“Having a little snack, Akiko?” she
asked.

Akiko nodded ashamedly.

“Not to worry,” Sarah smiled. “You’re
entitled to a break just like everyone else is. I won’t say
anything. What do you have behind your back?”

Akiko realized that Sarah might have thought
she was stealing something, so she took from behind her back what
she had been afraid to show her. It was a child’s picture book.

Sarah saw the pain in Akiko’s eyes and knew
that she was reading the book for herself.

“Oh, she said. That’s a good book. I read it
to Mrs. Cook’s children when I was baby-sitting them a few years
back. I think it’s wonderful that you are learning to read English
Akiko!” Sarah said. “Do you have any more books?”

Akiko shook her head.

“Baby Jimmy,” she said.

It was the first time Sarah had heard Akiko
say anything in English, ever.

“Well, your son Jimmy’s grown quite a bit
since then. Why don’t I get you a copy of one of his primary
readers from the schoolhouse so you can read together?”

Akiko shook her head and Sarah saw a tear
coming from her eye.

“Well then,” Sarah said, “maybe you’d just
like to learn by yourself, hmm?”

Akiko pointed at the pictures and then moved
her fingers under the words.

Sarah understood what the woman so
desperately wanted her to know, but couldn’t say.

“Words and pictures,” Sarah said. “I
understand, Akiko. That’s how you learn. That’s how we all
learned.”

A smile passed between the two women,
signalling the beginning of their silent friendship.

Sometimes Akiko would leave some cookies or
some tea for Sarah’s morning coffee. But Sarah, oh sometimes Sarah
left some wonderful things for Akiko, and this was one of those
nights. Inside the box, Akiko found one of the McMichael banned
Eaton's catalogues, an old one, but new to Akiko. She had never had
the opportunity to look through one before; although she knew what
it was. There was some jam from Sarah’s morning toast on the torn
corner, and the book had been well thumbed through. Akiko smiled.
There was a little note attached in what Akiko had come to
recognize as Sarah’s handwriting. Akiko began to spell and
struggled as she sounded the words out. The note said simply:

Words and
pictur
es

From Sarah

Akiko opened the catalogue. How wonderful!
There were pictures of everyday common things, everyday adult
common things, all laid out like a child’s picture book. She
pointed at the pictures and tried to make out the words beside
them. “D-r-e-s-s,” she spelled, then “$8.95.”

Akiko reached into the pocket of her apron
and found the piece of cake she had brought from home. She slipped
it into the box. She reached in her pocket again and found Harry’s
measuring tape. She had seen Sarah looking at some bedroom curtains
in the catalogue and remembered that Sarah said they were lovely
but she could not afford them. She didn’t understand everything
Sarah said, but Sarah had pointed to the pictures of the curtains
and sighed woefully. Akiko had figured it out.

The next day, while Sarah was at work, Akiko
rose early and went to Sarah’s parents’ house. She measured the
bedroom window she knew to be Sarah’s from the outside of the
house. What good, she asked her self, was having all the silk she
had brought from Japan, rotting in a cedar trunk?

Three day later, Sarah cried when she came in
one morning and found hand sewn silk curtains, exactly the size of
her bedroom window in her home, folded neatly and placed in the
secret box. They were the same colour as the one’s she had seen in
the catalogue. There was a note, which in handwriting not unlike a
child’s said:

C-u-r-t-a-i-n-s

From Akiko.

The tenor voice was loud and booming, and
more than a little off key, as Olivia made her way down to the
wharf. It was a beautiful Easter morning and many of the women were
wearing their spring best, including new Easter bonnets for the
occasion. They had been conveniently on sale the week before at the
general store. Still overpriced, but on sale just the same. The
wind picked up a little, and Olivia’s newly white-gloved hand
reached to steady the hat Frank had bought her. It was quite a nice
hat actually, for having been picked out by a man who took little
interest in the latest ladies’ fashions.

“Oh, I’se the b’y that builds the boat, And
I’se the b’y that sails her’.

I’se and b’y that catches the fish, And takes
‘em home to Lizer.

Hip yer partner, sally Tibbo’! Hip yer
partner, Sally Brown!

Fogo. Twillingate, Mor’-tons’ Harbour, all
around the circle.”

Olivia could see Frenchie on his boat,
swabbing the deck. He was wearing a light grey suit. Olivia had
never seen him dressed up before. She believed that might even have
been a new Easter toque that sat upon his head. Grey, to match his
suit.

“What on earth are you singing Frenchie?” she
asked.

“Ah, good Easter morn’ to you Liv. Nice to
see you. It’s a Newfie folk song I’m singin’.”

“A what?”

“A Newfie folk song,” he repeated. He read
the blank look on her face. “A traditional song from de est coast
de Newfoundland. We call dem Newfies.”

“Ah,” Olivia said. “A sea shanty?”

“Ach, yes. Dat is it. A liddle bit of de
pirate song. For us pirates. It’s traditional I tink. I dunt know
who wrote it. I tried to find out once, cuz I was tinkin maybe ‘e
could write a song about de ouest coast, but nobody knew. But I
sing it anyways cuz I like it.”

“You seem in a particularly good mood today.
And all dressed up. You’re looking quite handsome, I must say.”

“Aye lass, I am. I’ve been invited for Easter
dinner at da widow Wolfe’s. I tink she kinda fancies me.”

“Oh, I see,” Liv said. “And do you fancy
her?”

“Livvy I’m old, I’m losin’ me teeth and me
hair. I pretty much fancy anytin’ dat fancies me.”

“Frenchie!” Olivia said in mock disgust.

“I’m sorry Livvie darlin’. I was only
kiddin’. She’s pretty fine, she is, the widow Wolfe.”

“Dat’s …I mean, that’s better. You’ve got me
talking like you Frenchie!”

“Dat’ll happen to you when you’ve been here a
few more years, ‘tis sad to say.”

Olivia laughed.

“Did you get it?” she asked.

“Shhh!” Frenchie said, laying his finger upon
his lips. “Der’s ears everywhere. Dis is almost contraband you
know. But yes. ‘Ere are de packages you asked me to bring you. Tuck
‘dem in yer bag der. If anyone asks, I ne’er saw dem befer. Riskin’
me life fer ye pretty ladies, I am.”

“Your secret is safe with me Frenchie,” she
said. “Thank you. And good luck tonight. Be careful of that dirty
mop. You wouldn’t want to get your suit dirty before this
afternoon.”

Frenchie did a little jig around the
pail.

“I’ll keep dat in mind. Ya dunt know the
words to dat squid jiggin’ song do ya? Ya know, in case I need to
sing to her during the appetizers like? Suppose not. Okay den, Weez
‘avin de calamari. Da widow Wolfe, she calls it calamari, but I
knows dat it’s squid.”

Frenchie waved good-bye to her.

“Have a nice day. Oh, and yer fadder says
hello! I ran into him when I was in Seattle. Never forget a face,
do I.”

Olivia smiled.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to
church with me Frenchie?”

“Tanks for the invitation, but we dunt want
to get de widow jealous now, do we? Especially not before de turkey
dinner.”

“Frenchie, does the widow Wolfe have a first
name?”

“Uh, yes…but…okay I can’t remember. But dunt
go tellin’ ‘er dat. Okay, dat wud be bad.”

“It is
so
bad!” Olivia laughed. “What do you call
her?”

“I call her “luvvy.” Seems to work.”

“Frenchie, that’s so sweet. Tell you what, I
will find out her real name and let you know, okay? To repay this
favour.”

“Oh, dat wuld be magnifique, Liv.”

Olivia waved goodbye and started walking
towards the church. It was the first Easter service in the new
building, so it was quite an occasion in itself.

McMichael was coming out of his home with his
girls and Mrs. Schwindt in tow. He noticed Olivia, and waited for
her, letting the three go ahead. The girls had received new jumping
ropes and were anxious to try them out. Even Christina had one,
although he supposed it would be the last year she would want one.
She was growing up too quickly, he thought. Next year he would buy
her a lady’s hat. She would like that. He had given Mrs. Schwindt a
new hat for Easter, black of course, with a small veil as she had
insisted.

“Wouldn’t you rather have one of those
colourful new straw ones?” he had asked her.

“No. I want a black one with a veil. Jesus
died. I am wearing it for his funeral.”

He reminded her that Easter was a time of
celebration, that the time for mourning was over.

“That’s okay, I will wear the veil up then,”
she said.

“You still want the black one?” he tried
again.

“Yes, someone will die sometime and I will be
glad I have it,” she replied.

He glanced again at Olivia. He thought she
looked quite lovely, her hair tied up under her hat. He could see
the slender nape of her neck above her coat collar. She was quite a
striking woman, he thought. He felt his heart speed up.

“Frank working?” he asked, as she caught up
to him.

“You know he is,” she said matter of
factly.

“True enough. May I escort you off to church
then? I assume that’s where you’re headed.”

“That would be nice, thank you. There was
something I wanted to ask you, if this isn’t an inappropriate
moment.”

“Well, ask me and I’ll decide.”

“Do you have any jobs going right now?
Anything a woman could do? I thought I saw a sign in the general
store the other day.”

“I’m sorry Olivia, that job is taken
now.”

He saw her face fall.

“It required some heavy lifting anyway, not
really suitable for you, I don’t think. Still, if anything comes
up, I’ll be glad to let you know.”

“Well, actually it’s not for me.”

“Frank’s not planning on leaving the mine, is
he?”

“No, I was asking for Lucy.”

She thought she saw McMichael wince, just a
little.