Godfrey: Book One

by Adrien Leduc

  #

  “Those poor boys.”

  “They’re not boys, Josephine. They’re men.”

  “Well, they’re someone’s boys. You know, Catherine lost her son last year to the rapids. Being one of them cageux, it’s no picnic. This latest tragedy just proves it. Would you pass the ham please, Arthur?”

  “Of course, auntie.”

  “What happened?” Godfrey asked, taking a sip of his wine.

  Benjamin ripped a piece of bread from the loaf in the centre of the table and dipped it in the puddle of gravy on his plate. “They lost another cage at the rapids yesterday. Twelve men dead.”

  “And some of them are our relations,” Josephine murmured, signing the cross.

  Benjamin shrugged. “Distant relations and that’s the job they chose, Josephine.”

  “Does it pay well?”

  “Now, don’t you think for one second, Godfrey that anyone in this family would stand by and let you sign up to be a raftsman,” said Josephine Leduc sharply. “Jules, would you pass the carrots?”

  “Yes, auntie.”

  “But, if it pays well - “

  “Nephew, ain’t no amount of money in the world can make up for the danger of pushing logs up the river,” Benjamin said slowly, chewing on a slice of carrot.

  “Jules? Don’t you like peas?”

  All eyes turned to the youngest Leduc at the table who was busy pushing the peas on his plate around in circles. He shook his head and Arthur suppressed a fit of laughter.

  “You know there are plenty of children ‘round the world don’t have peas like that to eat,” Josephine continued, eyeing her nephew. “Ain’t got nothin’ to eat. Are you going to let those peas go to waste?”

  The boy shook his head slowly.

  “Eat your peas,” Godfrey hissed. “You’re being rude.”

  “Ah, what eight year old boy likes peas?” Benjamin balked as he popped a large chunk of ham into his mouth.

  “An eight year old boy that wants dessert,” his wife answered smartly, staring down her youngest nephew.

  Arthur giggled as Jules began to shovel the peas into his mouth as though he’d die without them.

  “Stop laughing at everything,” Godfrey snapped. “People will think you’re stupid.”

  Arthur ceased his laughing and glared at his older brother.

  “You’re stupid.”

  “Alright, boys,” said Josephine, as Godfrey shook his head in exasperation. “Let’s finish our lunch in peace, please. It is the Lord’s day after all.”

  “Yes, Aunt Josephine.”

  “Sorry, auntie.”

  “It’s alright.”

  Several moments of silence passed before talk turned to Leopold and Isaac.

  “And how are your brothers, Godfrey? Are they keeping well?”

  Godfrey nodded as he finished the remaining wine in his glass. “Yeah, they’re doing pretty well. We got a letter from Leo last week. Said he was having a good year and that he stands to make a good profit on his crops. And Isaac’s getting married.”

  “Isaac!” Josephine shrieked with delight. “Our little Isaac is getting married!? Gosh, Ben, don’t you remember when he wasn’t three apples high? Seems like yesterday…”

  Benjamin met his wife’s excitement with a hearty chuckle.

  “I can’t believe it,” Josephine continued, placing a hand to her mouth. “Oh, I do wish your mother had come today. Then we could gab all about the wedding. When is it? They’re having it out there, I suppose?”

  Godfrey nodded. “Yeah.”

  Josephine sighed. “It’s really a shame we can’t go. It’s so far. Been ages since I’ve been to a wedding.”

  Benjamin looked wide-eyed at his wife. “We were just at one in April!”

  “And it’s July, Ben.”

  The broad-shouldered man shook his head in disbelief and resumed eating.

  “Who’s the girl?” asked Josephine, returning her attention to Godfrey.

  “I’m not sure. He said she was French though.”

  Josephine nodded as though she was listening to every word very carefully. “A lot of Quebecers out there now, eh?”

  “Apparently,” Godfrey answered, scraping up the last of his mashed potatoes. “Some from France and Belgium too.”

  Josephine nodded, waiting for her nephew to finish speaking, before returning her attention to her husband. “Who’s that, Ben,” she said, putting a hand to his arm, “whose son is moving out there? Woman we spoke to yesterday at the hardware store…”

  “Oh, Madame Boivin.”

  “Yes, Madame Boivin.”

  “Yeah, her son’s moving out there sometime soon. You ever think to join your brothers out West, Godfrey?”

  Godfrey gaped at his uncle. “Did my mom talk to you?”

  The man shook his head and stared curiously at his nephew. “No, why?”

  “Well…” he began, glancing at his younger brothers.

  Did he mention the possibility of him leaving in front of them? It might upset them. Maybe not Arthur, but Jules for sure.

  “There’s a chance I might,” he said slowly, hoping Jules wasn’t listening too closely.

  “Oh?”

  Godfrey rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah…”

  “When?” Josephine asked, her face registering a look of concern.

  “Well, I’m not sure exactly…and it might never happen anyways,” he added hastily as Jules, who’d finished with his meal, began to take note of the conversation.

  “Well, that’d be a big change,” Benjamin remarked, setting down his knife and fork and leaning back in his chair, his plate empty and the top button of his trousers undone.

  Godfrey glanced surreptitiously at Jules who appeared to be picking at something on the tablecloth. “Yeah, it would be.”

  “Are you really going, Godfrey?” Arthur asked, lines of worry etched on his young face.

  “Well, it’s not a definite, but, there’s a chance…”

  Crestfallen, Arthur looked at his aunt as though hoping the older, wiser woman would tell the silly, young man across the table that he was dreaming and to stop saying such foolish things. But she didn’t. Instead, she sighed and began to clear the table.

  “She’s sensitive about people leaving,” Benjamin said quietly once his wife had disappeared from the dining room. “Her dad and her two brothers all died in the war, you know.”

  Godfrey nodded grimly. “Yeah, I know.”

  “But, let me tell you, Godfrey,” the hulking man said, pressing his finger into the table cloth. “I’ll give you the same words of advice I gave to Léo when he was thinking of moving out there. Of course, the war had just started and things were much more difficult then. Economy’s in much better shape today. But, he said to me, ‘Uncle, what if I move out there and I fail? And I have to return a penniless bum?’ And I looked at him and I said, ‘Léo, you decide whether you fail or not. The land is good. You’ve got money from the bank and from me’ - I’d lent him some money - ‘you’ve got all that going for you. If you want to make it a success, you can. It’s like a poker game where you’ve got the best hand. It’s up to you whether you want to lay it on the table or fold.’”

  Godfrey nodded to show that he was listening.

  “So, that’s the way it is. And it’s easier today, boy, I tell ya. Back during the war, you couldn’t get a penny from the banks. These days it’s like they throw the money at ya. They want you to borrow. You work at a bank, you know how it is.”

  “Yeah.”

  Benjamin shrugged, his face apathetic. “There you go then. If you want to go, there’s nothing but yourself to stop you.”

  The brawny farmer finished speaking just as Josephine returned to the table, a freshly baked apple pie in hand.

  “Wow, Aunt Josephine! Is that dessert!”

  The woman gave Jules a small smile. “It is. But only for boys who’ve finished everything on their plates,” she said, eyeing the carrots on his plate.


  “I’m eating them! I’m eating them!” the boy cried, shoveling them one by one into his mouth and bringing on a round of laughter from everyone at the table.

  “Oh, alright,” Josephine said with motherly affection as she began dishing out generous slices of pie. “You can have your dessert.”

  “And a game of horseshoes after lunch,” Benjamin added with a flourish as he watched his wife hand out the pie. “I believe a re-match is in order after last week’s debacle.”

  At this, Arthur smiled. “And a dollar if I beat you as bad as last time, Uncle Benjamin?”

  The farmer chuckled as he popped a toothpick into his mouth. “We’ll see.”

  - 5 -

  Monday. Raining. A bit of relief from the heat.

  “It’s like a bloody steam room out there,” Mr. Peverley complained as he entered the bank. “Pierre, give the lobby a mopping on the half hour, every hour until this blasted rain has ended. Customers are here for banking services, not swimming.”

  Watching from his teller’s booth, Godfrey could see that the custodian was none too thrilled with the task, but he nonetheless nodded and made his way towards the janitor’s closet.

  “What are you staring at? Haven’t you any work to do?”

  Godfrey turned to find Mr. Peverley looking directly at him, a cold sneer plastered to his pasty face.

  “Nothing, Sir. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, it’s too late for apologies. You’ve got time to gawk and daydream, you’ve got time to file Friday’s deposit slips.”

  Filing deposit slips was a two or three person job. Everyone knew that - especially Mr. Peverley.

  “By myself, Sir?”

  “Yes, by yourself. Who else here has got your kind of time?”

  “I can help him, Mister Peverley,” Edith piped up, throwing Godfrey a supportive smile.

  “No, Edith,” the bank manager answered tersely, both surprised and annoyed by her offer. “He can handle it by himself, I’m sure. If not, we can always find another teller who can.”

  The discussion over, Mr. Peverley turned and marched to his office, slamming the door behind him so hard, the pane rattled.

  “What’s got into him?” asked Lucille with palpable angst.

  Pierre paused his mopping and glanced at the young woman. “Who knows. Best stay out of his way today, though.”

  Opening the box of deposit slips to begin the sorting and calculating, Godfrey couldn’t agree more.