Olivia's Mine (27 page)

“Let’s just say the next time you come for a
visit, you’d better be bringing white shoes,” Olivia said.

“What?”

“Size nine, I believe. Yes that’s right,
nine. Don’t bug her about it and don’t stand there like an idiot.
Go after her.”

Jason ran up the dock after Sarah.

As Olivia returned home, Frank had the radio
playing soft music and her bath poured for her. A glass of wine and
soft candlelight was awaiting her arrival.

Olivia’s heart skipped a beat. It had been
the first romantic gesture Frank had offered in quite some time.
She closed her eyes and held her breath.

“Come here Liv,” he said, in a soft tone she
had been longing to hear. He took her in his arms and stroked her
hair.

“I know it’s been rough,” he said, “but I
love you. I’ve always loved you and I always will.”

They made love like two strangers, having
begun to forget the intimacies of their bodies with their
estrangement.

“You’ve lost weight,” Frank commented.

“I’ve been under a bit of stress,” she
offered.

“You look great, Liv.”

Again they made love. This time the
nervousness fell away, and the passion they had experienced as
newlyweds returned. The tension Olivia had felt in every bone in
her body was cleansed away. She was almost asleep when she heard
Frank’s voice.

“So what’s going on between you and
McMichael?” Frank asked.

“What do you mean by that?” Olivia asked,
desperately hoping that Frank wasn’t going to spoil things.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Nonsense,” Olivia assured her husband. “He
has called me every name in the book when there’s been a problem at
the mine, but he has never whispered sweet nothings in my ear.
That’s your job.”

She tried to cuddle next to Frank but the
mood had been broken. What was going to happen next between them,
she didn’t know.

Forgiveness.

It really wasn’t something you can do until
you’re good and ready, Olivia thought. It had taken Lucy Bentall
all of a year to begin to forgive Britannia for what it had taken
from her. It had taken Sarah all of an evening to forgive Jason for
not proposing. Where she was with Frank, she wasn’t quite sure.

Things had improved, she admitted. They were
speaking to one another once again. At least they were
communicating, she thought. Frank had moved back into the bedroom,
and while there was a lot of sex, she didn’t feel there was a lot
of tenderness involved. Still, for Olivia, it was an improvement
over the past few years with her husband.

It had been a month since the threatened
strike at the mine, but there seemed to be an undercurrent of
anxiety toward her, just the same. Olivia knew she couldn’t trust
the men completely and as the days neared towards the signing off
of the concentrator installation, she found herself having to watch
their every move. They were trying to get under her skin, she knew,
and she was desperately trying not to let them.

Things finally came to a head one afternoon
when Bobby Ashton, one of the workers, returned from work, reeking
of alcohol.

“Mr. Ashton,” Olivia said. “Kindly explain
yourself.”

“I had a beer for lunch, no big deal.”

“Where were you drinking beer at this hour?
The bars aren’t open.”

“Prohibition ended with the war, boss lady.
We can have beer in our house. McMichael knows all about it.”

“It is a big deal, Mr. Ashton. I highly doubt
it was one beer. And I doubt Mr. McMichael knows all about it. Not
on a workday. Go home and sleep it off.”

Bobby picked up his welding torch, fired it
up and turned, waving it in front of her. She could feel the heat
from the flame on her face.

“I don’t think you heard me, Mr. Ashton.”

“Oh, did you say something?” he smirked.

“You, Mr. Ashton, have two choices. You can
either go home and sleep it off, like I said the first time, or we
can invite Mr. McMichael up here to discuss your termination. You
know as well as I do he does not let men with alcohol on their
breath work their shifts. And don’t flatter yourself into thinking
you’re intimidating me with that torch.”

Bobby Ashton tried to stare her down, but she
stood her ground.

“Well? I’m waiting. Time is money.”

Bobby Ashton put down his torch and sulked
off.

“You! Ronnie Sykes! Get over her and finish
this weld,” she shouted.

When word of the incident eventually reached
McMichael, he smiled. He’d been smiling a lot lately, Sarah noted,
but she dared not mention it. The coffee invitation had been
unnerving enough.

“Lucy,” Sergeant Wolanski shouted as he saw
her coming out of the café, “come here a moment. Please.”

Lucy smiled and walked over to Rudy.

“I was wondering Lucy, if you’d do me the
honour of accompanying me to the moving picture show tonight at
7:00.”

“Oh Rudy, that would be lovely!” Lucy
exclaimed. “I was looking for a reason to get out of the house
tonight to leave Frenchie and Margaret alone.”

“I was hoping you wanted to come to the show
for more than that,” Rudy said.

“But still, beggars can’t be choosers. I’ll
take you for coffee afterwards, thereby delaying your return by
another half an hour, how’s that?”

Lucy laughed.

“You could probably keep me out until
eleven,” she winked. “I won’t mind.”

If the truth be known, and the truth seemed
to be known by just about everyone but Lucy, Lucy thoroughly
enjoyed Rudy’s company.

“Well, what’s stopping you?” Olivia asked her
one day. “Good-looking single men like Rudy don’t come along every
day. Just ask Sarah.”

“But he’s been married before,” Lucy
said.

“Well, so have you. What’s your point?”

“The point is...we know what happened to my
husband. What happened to his wife?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Olivia said. “That’s
the only way you’ll ever find out. That’s the only way any of us
will ever find out. He sure doesn’t like to talk about it.”

Jason’s moving picture house, which he had
called “The Caprice” after the movie houses in the United States,
had been an instant hit. And while it wasn’t a marriage proposal
like Sarah had wanted, it did manage to keep her man in town and
she considered it a blessing.

“He’ll be able to provide for a family,”
Sarah had noted to Olivia.

As if the picture show were his main source
of income, Olivia thought. Sarah apparently hadn’t thought it all
through. Or maybe she just didn’t know of the family’s wealth. Or
maybe she just didn’t care. Sarah’s biggest thrill seemed to be
that Jason let her into the pictures free whenever she wanted, and
even sprung for popcorn.

It took a long time for the films to reach
Britannia. They were sent city to city by train, and when the big
cities didn’t need them anymore, Frenchie brought them up to Jason
by boat. The film they were watching tonight was a few years old,
but no one cared. No one had seen it before. Tonight they were
showing “The Poor Little Rich Girl” starring Mary Pickford. Mary
Pickford wasn’t only a Canadian, she was probably the most famous
woman in the world! In the picture, she portrayed a young girl who
was sadly neglected by her social-climbing parents.

“I don’t know,” Rudy had said after the show,
“it’s a bit hard to believe a twenty-four year old woman playing
the role of an eleven year old girl.”

“Perhaps,” Lucy commented, “but I thought she
was wonderful. How glamorous to be a movie star.”

“You could have been a movie star,” Rudy
said. “You sure have the looks for it.”

Lucy kissed him on the cheek. It was the
first time she had extended that type of affection towards him.

“But the poor girl,” Lucy continued, “left
alone in the hands of evil servants who tried to poison her. How
tragic. Imagine what that would do to her emotionally.”

Rudy grew silent.

“Rudy,” Lucy said, “I’m fine, really, don’t
worry.”

“It’s not you Lucy. Let’s go have some
coffee. I’ll tell you all about it.”

After the crowds had left the show, Jason
still had some closing up to do. Jimmy Yada came by at nine thirty
each night and swept and mopped the floor for him. He said he was
saving the money for university. Jason hoped the young lad made it
there.

“Sarah,” Jason said. “Come here, I need you
to do me a favour.”

“What?”

“The extra set of keys fell into the popcorn.
Jimmy must have left them on the top shelf. If you find them, I’ll
take tomorrow night off to take you out to dinner.”

Sarah giggled in delight.

“What will the people do with no show?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m sure they can
get by for one night, they managed up until now without any movie
house at all. I’m just going upstairs to go lock the money up in
the safe. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Do you really want me to stick my arms in
all that buttery popcorn?” Sarah asked.

“Yes I do,” Jason said. “Find the keys so I
can throw all that buttery popcorn out. It will go rancid in a
day.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier just to get some more
keys for Jimmy?”

“Not if you want to go out to dinner
tomorrow.”

Sarah sighed and started to dig for the keys.
About half way down she came upon something larger than keys. She
brushed the kernels away to find a little box.

“How odd,” she said aloud.

She took the box out of the machine. It
reminded her of the days she and Akiko used to leave presents for
each other hidden under her desk. That seemed like so long ago
now.

She opened the box.

Jason could hear her squealing with
delight.

Thank God, he thought. She found it. He
didn’t want to go sifting through the garbage for it later.

“Jason!” she screamed. “I’ve found it.”

Jason went back downstairs.

“Oh Jason,” she said, daring not to hope,
“look what I found.”

Inside the palm of her hand was a diamond
ring. The biggest diamond ring she had ever seen in her life.

Jason got down on one knee.

“So Miss Lieboldt, light of my life, will you
marry me?”

“Oh, wait until I tell your sister,” she
cried.

Jason took that as a yes.

“Please tell my sister, I am not an
idiot.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Never mind,” he said. “Just go order your
shoes.”

Sarah’s smile went from ear to ear.

When they reached the door of the café, Rudy
paused and turned to Lucy.

“Let’s not go in yet. Let’s go for a walk. Do
you mind?”

“Not at all,” Lucy said. It was a nice night
and she could see Rudy wanted to talk.

“Was it something I said?” she asked.

“No,” Rudy began, “I just found the movie a
bit disturbing. Not that it had anything to do with the movie
really; it just brought up emotions in...me. I find the theme of
mental illness a bit discomforting.”

Lucy felt a chill go through her.

Rudy felt it too. He took her hand.

“No, not you Lucy. Come, walk with me. I have
a story to tell you, the story of my wife Renae.”

The two strolled arm and arm towards the
water.

“We had a fight one night. About nothing
really. I think she asked me to help with the dishes and I said no.
That was the last time I saw her alive.”

Lucy was speechless.

“She had taken my service revolver out of the
closet I kept it in, and went out back and shot herself.”

Lucy gasped, covering her mouth with her
hand.

“Suicide?” she said.

Rudy nodded. “I tell people she walked out on
me, but that’s not really the truth. She left me, but not like
that.”

“I had thought about it myself once,” Lucy
said, “shortly after my family was killed, but...”

Rudy had been a young constable in Regina,
Saskatchewan when he met Renae LeBlanc. She was a Métis who had
moved to Saskatchewan from Manitoba.

“Métis?” Lucy asked. “Was she from
France?”

“No,” Rudy explained “The Métis are a group
of people of mixed heritage who live across Canada. They are the
children of Indian women and European fathers. Their numbers have
grown over the years, and they have married also amongst
themselves, forming their own nation. Renae’s parents were both
full-blooded Métis.”

Like Frenchie, Lucy thought to herself.

“She was a beautiful girl,” Rudy continued.
“Not unlike yourself in a lot of ways. Lively, vivacious. But she
was troubled.”

“What happened?” Lucy asked.

“I don’t know. We had run up against a lot of
prejudice. Me, being of Polish decent, marrying an Indian. A
half-Indian at that. But I loved her. She was one of the kindest
people I had ever met. She was very proud of her heritage. She was
so beautiful. I would see the other men looking at her and it would
drive me crazy. I’d get so mad. It wasn’t fair to her. I was just
insecure. I was young. I sometimes wonder now if that helped push
her over the edge.”

“Do you have any children?” Lucy asked.

“No,” Rudy answered. “Perhaps that’s a
blessing, I don’t know. I don’t know how I would have raised them
alone. I actually admire McMichael for that.”

“Tell me about her. Tell me about her
family.”

“I honestly don’t know much about them. She
didn’t talk much about them. She was taken away to a residential
school when she was quite young. She said horrible things happened
to her there, but she wouldn’t talk about it. It must have been
tough for her to leave her family.”

“What do you think happened there?” Lucy
asked.

“What could have happened, Lucy? It was run
by some Catholic priests.”

“And she just shot herself one night?”

“Yes,” he said. He broke down and cried.