Janette Oke

by Laurel Oke Logan

  Helen had elaborate plans of becoming a writer—of westerns, of course. Janette listened and smiled, never allowing herself to share her own private dreams of writing someday. At the time, the dream seemed far too remote and impossible.

  But Helen was serious. She filled notebooks with her stories, with much encouragement from her parents.

  Meanwhile, Janette contented herself with reading all the books she could get her hands on. Since the school had little in the way of a library, books were precious indeed. The students brought their own books from home, exchanging them with one another and faithfully returning them to the owners.

  Westerns were popular, and when Janette borrowed a new one and brought it home, Fred and Amy would often manage to sneak enough time to read it too, before it was returned.

  As much as Janette and Helen loved their make-believe world—the West—they did not realize at the time that the characters presented in the comics and books were phony—that the white-hatted, white-fringed, sequin- and satin-bedecked good guys fighting against grubby, cattle-stealing, black-hatted bad guys did not really exist. Neither in the Canadian West, nor in America either.

  Janette loved her farm life. And one of the best parts of that life was the animals—especially the horses. Perhaps some would say that a farm wasn’t very exciting—but country kids seem to generate their own excitement. And for Janette, it was enough to have family for games, cousins who visited, friends who dropped by on long summer evenings, and horses to ride whenever she pleased.

  Of the horses kept at the Steeves farm, Trix was one of Janette’s favorites, even though he could not entirely be trusted. He was black with white markings and had so much energy that he never walked, he always pranced. The family used Trix exclusively in harness for fieldwork, but there was a young neighbor man who had taken quite a fancy to him and wished to buy him for “showing off” on the road. When he came to the farm for a trial ride, it was the first that Janette had seen a rider on Trix. She expected the horse to buck—but instead he pranced around, throwing his head in an attempt to survey the rider and saddle, as if they were some strange new harness that had settled over him. His coat glistened in the summer sun as he sidestepped and danced on nimble feet. Convinced that Trix would make a good saddle horse, the young man made another offer—but Fred just shook his head. Trix was not for sale, and Janette was able to continue enjoying him herself.

  The Steeves children were allowed to harness and drive Trix only after they had learned to handle horses well, but even then he sometimes got the best of them. They learned that if he was paired with a slower, steadier horse he could behave, but if he was teamed with the wrong mate, he did not need much of an excuse to run away.

  One cold winter day, June and some of the others had taken the closed sleigh and set off into the crisp sunshine. Since the prickling cold air crept even under their blankets and through their clothing, some of the riders had pulled off their shoes to warm their feet by rubbing them. It was just then that Trix and his teammate, Nell, bolted. June lost control, the horses made a quick turn, and the sleigh lurched and spilled. The young people tumbled out into the snow with only their stockings to protect them from the icy drifts. Their shoes were still tucked inside the blankets of the sleigh as it was whisked along behind the runaway horses. In the end they bundled themselves as best they could and began the walk back home, arriving with feet bright red but thankfully with no permanent damage done.

  Another of the horses that Janette and her siblings used often was Midnight, a half Shetland with a white star on his forehead. Used both to ride and in harness, Midnight was as smart as a whip, and ornery besides. He seemed particularly well suited for harness, though small, and could do his fair share of the work. If he were ridden, he was full of tricks, and often seemed to remember his riders much better than they knew their horse, reacting to each in a way that brought the most upset.

  With Jean his trick was to rear up. He had done so once, and she had panicked, slipping his bridle and letting him go home on his own. Since it had worked then, he tried it again. From then on Jean rode Midnight only occasionally.

  More often, Jack and Janette rode him to school, and there were a few occasions when they hit the ground rather unexpectedly. Once Janette even landed on her metal lunch kit. With the throb in her side, it was easy for Janette to harbor some ill feelings toward this horse.

  On another school day, Janette was alone on Midnight. The snowplow had been through the area and had left a little pile of snow near a neighbor’s gate. Midnight, who had been plugging right along up to that point, suddenly threw up his head and glared at the small heap of snow. He stopped, snorted, and refused to take one more step. Janette urged him, kicked him, and then slapped him with the reins, but he would take no more steps forward. Instead, he backed up step by step until he had retreated right into the ditch.

  The farmhouse door opened, and a young neighbor fellow called out, “Do you need some help?”

  At the sound of a voice Midnight’s ears flicked forward. Then he looked directly at the neighbor, started forward, and walked right over the very pile of snow that he had been making such a fuss about. Janette, fully embarrassed, would have gladly sent him off to the meat packers on the spot had anyone offered.

  There were other instances when Midnight showed a streak that was as stubborn as a mule. While Janette was riding him to Hoadley one day she met a cream truck coming toward her. A young man was driving, and Janette, a teenage girl, was tired of being placed in awkward positions by the stubborn horse. Again for some reason, Midnight stopped right in the middle of the road and stared at the truck, refusing to take one step out of its way.

  Janette was mortified. The driver was forced to stop and wait, then to call and see if Janette needed any help with the horse. At last, Midnight decided that he’d had enough of the sport, and moved off to the side. Janette, a deep blush hot on her face, averted her eyes as the driver pulled past her and was finally on his way.

  At the opposite extreme, Midnight also loved to run. If another horse were around he immediately assumed it was a race, though he was a notoriously poor sport. If he got ahead he would often cut in front of the other horse to slow him down. If he got behind he showed his displeasure by starting to buck. In fact, he had earned sufficient reputation locally that some of the neighborhood boys felt they might like to take on the challenge of riding him. Claude Estelle traveled a number of miles out of his way home from school one day just so he could try his horsemanship on Midnight. Shifting the saddle from his own horse onto Midnight’s back, Jack and Janette were left to ride Claude’s horse bareback. The skinny old nag had a sharp backbone and no plump padding to cushion the ride. They realized then that for as much as Midnight lacked in discipline, his rounded sides certainly beat Claude’s horse for comfort.

  Fred, too, would sometimes ride the little black horse. One winter day, some of the livestock had strayed and Fred needed to begin looking for them. Midnight was small and there were many drifts of snow across the roads, but Fred chose him and set off, though his legs hung low on either side, almost dragging on the crests of the drifted snow.

  They had been out for quite a while and Fred began to feel sorry for the poor, tired little mount beneath him. He had been making it just as easy on the pony as he could, noticing that Midnight was trudging with his head low, his steps slow and laborious.

  Suddenly, without warning, Midnight shied right out from under him, and Fred was astounded to find himself standing on his own two feet. So the once sympathetic rider decided that if Midnight still had enough life in him for such a bolt, the two could hurry just a bit faster on the way home.

  During one summer’s rush to bring in crops and hay, Janette was given the job of driving a team made up of Midnight and Trix, while Jack and Fred performed the more strenuous work on the stack. They were haying a field at a neighbor’s farm where the train track ran right through the field. Since the Steeves lived some distance from
the tracks, their horses were not at all accustomed to the sound of the train.

  Janette was operating the rake, a rather dangerous implement if one happened to lose one’s seating and take a tumble. Jack was up on the stack, and Fred was forking hay up to him. Just then along came the train with its clacking wheels and shrill whistle.

  Trix and Midnight lurched, and Janette, who was just a young teen and not overly experienced, was sure she would be unable to restrain them. Instantly, her muscles tensed and she instinctively worked to hold in the horses. All action on the stack stopped as Fred and Jack both turned full attention to her plight, knowing they were too far away to be any assistance. As the clatter and racket continued, Trix and Midnight lurched and pranced, hooves dancing and ears twitching at the strange noise. Miraculously, Janette won the struggle and was soon able to settle them down. Later, Jack teased her about wanting to put on a show, but Janette was sure he’d been somewhat proud of her, even though he would probably not be willing to say so.

  When haying time and the scurry of activity had passed, there was time for more leisurely pursuits, which sometimes led to pranks. One particular day, Jack and Janette wandered into the barnyard, looking around for some kind of mischief—something they could enjoy while still avoiding any serious trouble. Spying a long rope and the nearby horses, the plan began to form. Soon the rope was tied to the gatepost and then stretched inconspicuously along the ground across the gate’s opening, the second end hidden behind the woodpile. Then, they were ready for the real fun!

  Janette was to shoo the horses through the gate while Jack held the end of the rope. At first, she had little success, and the horses were driven vainly back and forth across the “spot.” Then, finally, things worked out as planned.

  Just as Trix ran across the rope, Jack gave a mighty heave and the rope snapped up, hitting Trix squarely on the under belly. His reaction was explosive. Hooves flashed and Trix bucked while Jack and Janette rolled with laughter. He had had no idea what had hit him, and all the effort was counted as well worth it—there was great satisfaction in turning tables on the ornery horse.

  Soon another horse was added to the herd. It was not unusual to buy or to sell farm horses, and one day a neighbor arrived leading a bay behind his wagon. Fred had gone to a farm sale, and Jack and Janette were told, “Your dad bought him. He’ll be home in a bit.”

  The man handed the lead rope to Jack and the two looked over the new horse, wondering what he would be like. Was he mean? Could he be trusted? And what was the strange lump on the side of his jaw?

  Jack led the bay to the barn and fed him. He seemed gentle enough. Later, when he was turned out to pasture, the other horses began to pick on him. It made Janette worry that he might be hurt. They nipped and kicked and chased him around and around. Her anger rose as she watched, but finally the herd stopped their initiations and Dan, as the bay was dubbed, was accepted.

  He was a good horse, gentle and trustworthy, both in harness and to ride. He quickly became Janette’s choice whenever he was available. She even liked to pretend that Dan was her own, though of course he was not. He was a workhorse that belonged to the farm and family, but she loved him deeply anyway. And Dan repaid her devotion by doing everything he was asked to do—or at least he tried. Once Janette made him plunge into a pond of cold spring water and urged him to climb aboard floating ice blocks. The idea failed, but not from lack of effort on Dan’s part. The ice kept chunking off just as he extended his hoof and thrust his weight onto it. But he kept right on trying valiantly until Janette gave up the attempt.

  There were other farm horses too. An old white horse named Jack died one cold wintry day and gave the coyotes a feast down in the pasture. And there was King, a dark brown horse, and Old Bob, who fell down a shallow, deserted well. The group of men who gathered to try and save him had a terrible time fighting with him until they were finally able to hoist him up. Horses were only a part of farm life, but they were an important part. And for Janette and those who shared her equestrian pleasures, not only were they depended on for many of the farm tasks, they became dear friends as well.

  Fred continued to receive offers to buy Trix. His answer continued to be “no,” but as the years slipped by Trix grew old. The time finally came when Fred decided it was best to get rid of him. More cold winters would have been hard for the old horse, and Fred was far more practical than the children would have been. Had they kept the animal until he dropped of old age as some of the other horses had done, his carcass would have surely been pulled down to a distant field and left where the coyotes would have squabbled over its remains. There was nothing to be gained by allowing the old horse such an undignified end.

  So Fred sold Trix to a man who made frequent horse-buying trips through the area. Janette stood behind the living room curtains, tears spilling down her cheeks as she watched the dealer cross the yard, Trix in tow. The dear, stubborn old horse was still prancing as he was led out to be loaded on the truck, unaware that he was taking his last trip. And Janette was certain she would miss him, despite all his senseless antics.

  Midnight, too, was eventually sold, this time to distant neighbors. He was no longer a young horse, and Fred felt that the family needed the money more than they needed him. He had never been a really “good horse,” but the Steeves children had all learned to love him anyway, so it was hard to let him go.

  It was even more difficult when, a few days later, Midnight appeared back in the yard, a piece of rope dangling from his neck. Apparently he had not cared much for his new home and had decided that no mere rope would keep him from returning to where he belonged. The girls pampered and fed him, soothed him and petted him, and begged to be allowed to keep him. However, they were old enough to know better. For, of course, Fred notified the new owner and Midnight was taken away again.

  The day of the school track meet was fast upon them, and joyous excitement buzzed throughout the school building. A classmate, Alice Hurteau, the youngest member of a French Canadian family in the community and another of Janette’s school companions, was athletic and ready to challenge whomever contested her from the other schools. Janette shared her enthusiasm, though not quite all of her competitiveness.

  On the morning of the appointed day, Janette rummaged through her clothing, trying to find a blouse that would suit the slacks she was wearing for the special event. There was none. It was her sister June who came to the rescue. From her closet of carefully maintained clothes, she produced a lovely white blouse. Janette could hardly believe that she would be able to wear the snowy-white garment and promised fervently that she would do her best to take good care of it.

  All day long she was conscious of keeping the blouse from getting dirty, or spilled on, or smudged from track dirt. At the end of the day, she looked at the blouse in triumph, confident that it was no worse off for her use of it.

  Some friends gave her a ride home from the track meet in their car, and as they bounced along over the rutted roads they talked about the day and relived its most exciting moments. Their small school could boast of capturing a good share of the day’s ribbons.

  The car pulled into the Steeves’ yard and Janette stepped out, bursting with news to share with her older siblings and parents. Just as she leaned back toward the car for one last farewell, someone inside reached for the door and pulled it closed. The sound of tearing cloth ripped through the air. Somehow, the car handle had caught the front of the blouse, ripping where it pulled against the buttons. Janette felt heartsick. She had spent so much of the day concentrating on the blouse and now, just at the last moment of it being in her possession, was to go into the house with it torn. How could she ever face June?

  She knew she should be scolded, but June said nothing. Later she carefully and skillfully mended the tear. There was no money for the luxury of a new blouse, and Janette was sure that each time June wore it, she was reminded again of her little sister’s carelessness, but June never said one word about it.

&nb
sp; Janette had a number of boy cousins around her own age and one girl cousin just a few months older than she. She loved being with Eva. During their early years before the move North, Eva’s family lived nearby on the prairie and the two girls had seen each other often. Later Eva’s prairie family also moved north, and the two families attended the same country school.

  It was fun getting to know each other again, and they shared many good times. When sometime later the Burt Ruggles family moved several miles away to Ponoka, it was still close enough so that the families could spend time visiting in one another’s home.

  On one such occasion when Janette was in her early teens and visiting with Eva, they attended a special service in the Ponoka Baptist Church. It became one of the pinnacle events of her young life, for it was at that service, prompted by an invitation, that Janette dedicated her life to be used in any way God chose. Many years before at Bible camp, Janette had prayed for forgiveness of her sins; now she was stepping out further in her walk with the Lord. Now she was giving over all the big and little decisions that lay ahead of her. It was a significant experience for her, and she felt her dependence on God and her desire for His will grow.

  Church attendance was still a regular part of the Steeves’ life, and their church was currently being ministered to by the Lloyd Torgersons, who had recently taken up residence in the small church parsonage with their two young girls. While they were with the church, Mrs. Torgerson lost the baby that she had carried to full term, and the stillborn baby was prepared for burial by the pastor himself.

  Reverend Torgerson was a handy carpenter, so he made a little wooden coffin and lined it with soft white material. He then lovingly and sorrowfully laid the baby into it himself, and arranged the small frame and tiny limbs to look comfortable and peaceful.

  For some reason Janette found herself at the parsonage, and after Reverend Torgerson welcomed her into their home, he asked if she would like to see the baby. Chills ran up and down her spine at the thought of it but Janette agreed. The young girl had never before looked upon death, and struggled to force herself to gaze at the tiny infant lying among the soft white folds of the casket interior. The impression stamped itself on her mind, and though the experience was in no way pleasurable, it had not been terrifying either. Perhaps a merciful God was even then preparing her for later years, when she would look into the face of another infant so newly born and yet so still.