by Ken Busato
Chapter 29
We did not stay long in our colony house along the banks of the Red River.
It was in the middle of September when we started to realize that wintering would be impossible. The harvest was poor, the fishing even worse, and there was not enough stored up to last the cold winter months on the plains. Papa’s worries came true. This was an off year, and we had no choice but to go back from where we came.
I hope Calum makes the journey alright. He is not growing as fast as he should. It has to do with this diet of prairie turnips we are forced to eat at every meal. Sometimes, without warning, he cries and begs to be held. I take him up in my arms and sooth him as best as I can, but there are moments when he is inconsolable.
My uncle had big plans, but they will have to wait. He was going to build his own sod home, establish a small farm, and then wed Chloe. With the difficulties we have all experienced, there has not been a chance for him to follow through. He had a good long talk with Chloe’s father who would have nothing better than to see his daughter wed, but not until there is certainty she can be provided for. Being able to provide is far from certain for all of us.
Our reception at Pembina was cold to say the least. As we quietly passed by the Saulteaux natives on our way back to Fort Daer, many of them shook their heads in disgust and spat on the ground. Peguis simply looked sad.
Our first night back in this prison was one of the saddest I have ever had in this country. For October, the night was cold, and I could not get rid of the chills. Closing my eyes, I started to dream wildly. I was alone, waist deep in snow. Try as I might, I could not call out to anybody. The sky was gray and barren, with no animal or person within sight. Looking down, I saw dried blood on my hands. Rubbing my hands with snow could not get the stain off. The snow started to sting, and I was losing feeling in my fingers. I then looked a little to my left and saw a trail of blood leading to a single feather, the same feather my mother received from Peguis as a gift almost a year ago. To my right I saw the remains of a buffalo, staring at me with lifeless, sad eyes. Panicking, I tried to lift myself up but I was stuck…
“Molly, child, wake up! You’re having a terrible dream.”
“Mama, what happened? Where am I?”
“Oh poor girl, you dozed off by the fire. We need to find you some more blankets. This is a cold October evening.”
Mama got up to find me another blanket. Still shivering, I looked around the room to see everyone else in just as poor shape as I was. Papa was using his knife, working on a small scrap of wood he found on our march here. He was probably making a toy for Calum, but he could just as easily be whittling the wood down to a sharp point.
He is not near the man he once was. The strain of being a colonist has taken its toll little by little. Papa used to have a full head of hair, and over the last while it has started to thin, with a small bald patch forming on the top of his head. His face has thinned, and his beard has turned completely gray.
My two brothers are pale and thin. Across the room, they huddle together underneath a blanket for warmth. There is just not enough meat on their poor little bones.
“Molly, are you alright dear?” Mama asked as she spread an old blanket around me for warmth. She started rubbing the sides of my arms to help me get the blood flowing.
“I don’t know if I’m alright or not. We have tried so hard. I have worked my fingers raw. Sometimes my hands start to bleed because they are so cracked and dry. I rub them on my arms and it feels like coarse sand. You would think after a while, all of this work would count for something. It seems every time we make some progress, every time we are about to get on our feet, another problem is placed in our way we have to solve. We can’t go forward because we always end up going backwards.”
“I know Molly. But remember, we are Frasers, and we can handle the things the Lord puts in our way.”
“Hmmm,” Papa snorted to himself in the corner where he was working quietly.
“You’ve got something to say John?” Mama asked.
“Since what has the Lord got anything to do with what has been put in our way? We’ve got a problem with people all around us who don’t want us to be here. As far as I can tell, our problem is we work too hard and trust too much.”
“We’ll figure it out John. For the sake of the kids, we will make a life for ourselves in this country.”
“When!!” my father screamed getting up from his chair so forcefully it almost shattered as it hit the wall behind him. His sudden outburst woke Calum and Liam. Both boys hid under the blanket, whimpering softly. “When do you see this happening Fiona? When one of your children has a foot stuck in their own grave? Damn it, this is not what we were expected to have. If I knew two years ago what I know now, I would have stayed in the dirty stinking city New Lanark and never bothered with this hellish plan. That’s right Fiona, God has forsaken us here. There is no Lord who makes us suffer. There is only suffering.”
“John! Not in front of the kids!”
“Why not in front of them Fiona? They have a stake in this life every bit as much as we do. They need to know what their chances are, what all of our chances are.”
“For the sake of your family John, calm yourself and let the boys try to get some sleep. And stop waving that knife around before it slips out of your hand by accident.”
Papa started to shake a little as his whole body heaved with the force of his own breath. With his free hand, he quietly picked up the chair from the ground and sat down. Putting the knife down on his lap, he lifted both his hands to his face and he started to weep quietly. I turned to my mother and gestured for her to remain still as I went over to him.
“What were you doing with that piece of wood Papa?” I softly asked as I delicately placed a hand on his shoulder.
“It was for your brother. Do you remember Molly when I would carve out little figures for you and Liam to play with? I wanted to do something for Calum, give him a little toy to spend some hours with as we sit here for another winter.”
“I’m sure he would love it. Are you almost finished?”
“It’s just a little soldier, a Highlander really. It will take a bit more time, and I hope I can paint it too.”
“It’s important to do things that keep your spirits up, right Papa?”
“I guess so. It feels like we are always waiting…” His voice trailed off as he took the toy on his hands and started to twirl it around. After a few moments, Papa looked me in the eyes and asked, “How do you keep your spirits up Molly?”
“Why taking care of all of you of course.” I turned my head around and gave my mother a little wink. “If it wasn’t for me, I’m sure this family would go to hell but quick.”
Shaking his head, my father started to smirk and then chuckle a little to himself. “My courageous daughter, forgive an old man his anger. Sometimes I start to think the worst.”
“Oh Papa, you know it is alright to be angry. We all have moments, and we will probably have many more before we are truly settled.”