“Wow. You don’t waste time.”
“Are you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m getting a sense of it, that’s all. From you and Eva both.”
“Okay. You’re right.” Bird decided not to pretend otherwise. She slumped. “I don’t know why. We can’t agree on anything, even to agree to disagree.”
“Anything specific?”
“Everything specific! She hates my haircut, hates my clothes, can’t imagine why I prefer my friends to the kids of her friends, and walks around the house modelling her new clothes and asking for compliments! She buys me skanky outfits and wants to teach me how to get a boy! She points out makeup tips and wants me to practise walking in heels! I’ll probably smack her!”
Hannah listened carefully. “Is that all?”
Bird was offended. “Isn’t that enough?’
“Plenty. But I hear more real pain in your voice than those trivial things merit.”
Bird decided not to react to the “trivial” comment. She sat silently. After a moment, she spoke in a low voice. “It’s happening all over again. She makes me feel … inadequate.”
“How so? You’re talented, smart, accomplished in many ways, as well as being attractive. How can you possibly feel inadequate?” “I don’t know, I just do! After Mom met Stuart, we got along so well. I thought things had magically become perfect. I should’ve known better. I guess I just wanted it to be true.”
“I know what you mean,” agreed Hannah. “What does Eva complain about most?”
Bird gave Hannah’s question some serious thought. “That I’m a freak, an alien. She doesn’t use those words, but she definitely thinks I’m odd. She wants me to be just like her. She doesn’t understand how I think, or why I do the things I do. I feel like I’m in the wrong family.”
“And what bothers you most about her?”
“That she wishes I looked like Julia.” The words popped out of Bird’s mouth before she’d even thought them through. Still, Bird knew it was true.
Hannah tilted her head. “You mean like Eva?”
Bird nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “Like them both.”
“You’re a beautiful girl, Bird. You must know that!”
“I wish my mother thought so.”
“I’m sure she does.” Hannah sighed. “Eva can be insensitive. She’s always been that way. She most likely has no idea what you’re feeling. You need to talk to her, Bird. She won’t figure this out on her own.”
“I’ve tried, Aunt Hannah. Many times. But I went too far, and it only made things worse.”
“How do you mean?”
Bird slumped further onto the table. “I need to know, and she never tells me, and I know she wants to forget, but last week I asked her again about my father.”
“Oh.”
“I only asked her if I looked like him, and she went crazy! She screamed at me and I ran out the door. Is that such a bad question?”
Hannah shook her head. “Not at all. It’s an excellent question, and you do look quite a lot like him. But Eva doesn’t want to discuss that chapter of her life. It’s her story to tell.”
“It’s her story, but it’s my life!”
“I’m sure she’ll tell you when she’s ready.”
“She’ll never be ready! I keep asking her! All I know is that he rode in the rodeo.” Bird reached across the table and grabbed her aunt’s arm. “You can tell me, can’t you?”
“I only know what I heard from Eva.”
“Please?”
“Bird, you’re putting me in a corner.”
“Was he so horrible? Was my father a murderer? A rapist?”
“No! Nothing of the sort!”
“Then why can’t you tell me about him?” Bird was in tears. She let them fall down her face.
Hannah reached across the table and wiped them away with her hand.
Bird said quietly, “Please, Aunt Hannah? Tell me about my father?”
Hannah studied her. She nodded slowly. “Okay. Eva may never speak to me again, but I’ll tell you everything I know.” Hannah took a deep breath and released it slowly. Bird waited while she found the right words.
“I’ll have to tell Eva I told you, Bird, and I don’t look forward to it, but I’ll start at the beginning as I understand it.” She paused, and began. “My sister, your mother, was a gorgeous, headstrong young woman. She loved having fun. Still does, but she makes better choices now.” Hannah smiled and briefly shook her head. Bird knew the two sisters had had a troubled relationship over the years, but since Eva’s visit the previous summer, things had been much better.
“Eva met Fred Sweetree at the Stampede in Calgary, in the province of Alberta. That’s why she named you Alberta, but you knew that.”
“Sweetree,” Bird repeated. “Fred Sweetree. Wow. I never even knew his name until now.”
Hannah stretched her back and got comfortable. “Fred was a broncobuster of enormous fame. He won more rodeos that year than anyone ever has, before or since. People said the horses bucked better for him, and less viciously, than for anybody else.”
Hannah looked at her niece and smiled fondly. “Your father was a star. No — a legend. And above all the women flirting with him, he noticed Eva. They happened to be in the same bar one night, and he bought her a drink. Then another. Eva fell head over heels. It didn’t hurt that all the other women were jealous. They left the bar together, and spent the Stampede week as a couple.”
Bird could imagine the whole scene — Eva would have loved every minute of being with the toast of the town. The charismatic cowboy and the glamorous party girl.
Hannah continued, but her voice was more guarded now. “The last day of the Stampede, things went terribly wrong. Rumours circulated that Fred drugged horses. Some of the cowboys, not all, believed what they heard because of the change that came over the horses when Fred was around.” She paused. “They were plain jealous. They couldn’t figure out how else he was so successful.”
Bird could guess the rest, but she let her aunt finish the story. “The big awards dinner was that night, but Fred knew what people were saying about him and left town before the big trophy and the shiny new belt buckle could be presented.” She paused, and her voice dropped.
“He also left your mother. Eva was heartbroken. She really loved Fred, Bird.” Hannah moved chairs to sit beside Bird, and put her arm around the girl’s shoulder. “When he left town, he took your mother’s heart with him. But Bird,” Hannah said gently, “he left her with a rare and beautiful gift. He left her with you.”
Bird imagined her mother, young and irresponsible, but in love and crushed. Alone and pregnant.
“By the time she found out she was going to have a baby, Fred Sweetree was far away. She tried to contact him through the Stampede and various cowboy associations. After a while she accepted that she was going to have to raise you on her own. She tried her best to forget her dashing cowboy.”
Bird remembered something she’d once overheard. “Mom once said that when my father saw her for the first time, he came up to her and asked, ‘Do you want to play cowboys and Indians?’” Bird looked intently at her aunt. “Is my father from a First Nation?”
“Yes, Bird. And very handsome. His rodeo name was ‘Indian Fred.’”
Bird let this sink in. She was half Aboriginal. That made her Metis. She sat up straight. Her father was maybe Cree, or Sioux, or Blackfoot. Or some other people, like Apache or Mohawk or Oneida. How astonishing! Why did she not know this until now — this very important fact about who she was? There were so many questions that she needed answered. Which First Nation did she belong to? Did she have aunts and uncles and grandparents? Even brothers and sisters? She resolved to find him and ask.
“Thanks so much for telling me,” said Bird. “Where is Fred Sweetree now? How can I find him?”
“Oh, Bird. I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”
Hannah drew in her breath. �
��Eva’s quite convinced he’s dead.”
Bird felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. “Dead?”
Hannah nodded.
“How?”
“He was in a bush plane accident. There were no survivors.”
“Oh, no!” Bird’s stomach flipped. “That’s horrible! When did it happen?”
“Years ago. I’m so sorry. I thought you knew.”
“How could I know? Nobody tells me anything!” Bird’s pain turned to anger as she tried to digest all of this new information.
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” warned Hannah.
Bird relaxed. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. My mother should’ve told me a long time ago.”
“I hope I did the right thing, telling Eva’s story.”
“You did, Aunt Hannah. It means so much to me to finally hear the truth.” Bird turned to hug her aunt. “I can always count on you.”
Bird simply couldn’t understand why her mother had never wanted to tell her about Fred Sweetree. Maybe Hannah was right, her heart was still broken, but Eva was nothing if not resilient. She’d gotten married to someone else before Bird was even born, and she’d had Julia a few years later. And now she was madly in love with her newest husband, Stuart Gilmour.
Bird snorted at the thought. The solid, predictable public school principal was the polar opposite of the dashing, carefree rodeo star.
Just then, Eva flew through the screen door, letting it slam behind her and startling both of them. Aunt and niece were still sitting side by side at the kitchen table. “Speak of the devil,” whispered Bird.
Eva was out of breath. “Hannah, I have a big, big favour to ask.”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Can Bird stay over for a few days? Stuart and I have been invited to visit some old friends at their cottage in Muskoka. They have a daughter Julia’s age. Bird would have nothing to do, and I’m sure she’d much rather stay here!”
Bird frowned. “Hello? I’m here? Can I make my own decisions?”
Eva waved a freshly manicured hand in Bird’s direction. “You’d only cause trouble, and you know it.”
Bird jumped up from her chair. Her heart was pounding. She wanted nothing more than to break something over Eva’s smug, over-painted head. Instead, she looked at Hannah and said, “Can I move back in with you? Not just for a few days but forever?”
“Bird!” said Eva sharply. “What a hurtful thing to say!”
“Hurtful?” Bird stopped trying to control herself. “You ignore me, exclude me, say I’ll cause trouble, and you call me hurtful?”
“It was better when you couldn’t talk!”
Hannah tried to intervene. “Enough! Look, folks. If I could make a suggestion —”
“Hannah, my daughter and I will work things out our own way. Can she stay here or do I have to find a sitter or leave her alone at home?” Eva looked pointedly at her wristwatch.
“Of course she can stay.” Hannah’s face was flushed. “I love having her here. You don’t have to ask. It’s not a favour.”
Bird was ready to explode. “I was unacceptable when I couldn’t talk, remember? That’s why you sent me here last summer. You wouldn’t even admit to being my mother! And now you have the absolute nerve to say that it was better then? Well, now I can talk! And I’ll say whatever I want to say! I hate you! I wish you weren’t my mother! And you can just … go! … just go! … to Muskoka or wherever you want. Because … I … don’t … care!”
Bird ran outside, letting the screen door slam. She clambered over the rail fence and raced across Sunny’s field, only stopping when she’d climbed the fence on the other side. She flopped down in the soft grass and closed her eyes. Hot teardrops warmed her face. She hadn’t felt this miserable in a very long time.
Her mother was utterly foreign to her, that much she knew. Lucky for her that she had Aunt Hannah. Otherwise, who knew where she might end up? Maybe on the streets. Or foraging in the woods like her Uncle Tanbark, Hannah’s half-brother, before he’d gotten help earlier in the summer.
And then there was her father. She’d just found out two rather large pieces of information. One, he was an Aboriginal, and two, he was dead. She would never be able to meet him. She would never be able to ask him about her family. Never be able to ask him why he’d left her before she was born. And why he had never even tried to meet her before he died. Not once. She really wished Alec were here to talk to. He always understood.
Bird girl.
Bird opened her eyes. Cody!
The small coyote stood close by, his head tilted. You make water from your eyes. Are you in distress?
Yes, but not in danger.
I will help you.
Thanks, Cody. There is nothing you can do.
Call on me. Cody disappeared from view.
I have my animals, thought Bird. What do I need Eva for, anyway? She doesn’t understand anything about me.
A revelation hit Bird — she really didn’t understand anything about her mother, either. Eva was a complete mystery.
Bird sat up and looked across the field at the Saddle Creek farmhouse. She watched as Eva rushed Julia from the house. Eva was full of energy, and even from across the field Bird could see that she was happy, now that she’d gotten her way. She ushered the limp, resistant Julia into the car, closed the door with a flourish, and spun girlishly to wave goodbye. Hannah stood at the kitchen door. She waved absently as the car drove down the driveway to the road.
Once the car was gone, Bird stood and brushed the grass off her jeans. Her anger had dissipated, but she still felt the sting of her mother’s rejection.
While Bird had been watching the house, Sunny had strolled over. Now he stood at the fence looking at her. Hey, Bird.
Hey, Sunny.
Don’t be sad.
Bird patted his soft nose. I’ll be fine. Really.
People confuse me. You were happy before you went in your house, and sad when you came out. Is something bad in there?
No, Sunny. My mother made me sad. I’ll get over it.
Good.
Sunny bent his neck and resumed grazing. Bird rubbed behind his ears and breathed deeply. She was starting to feel better already.
FOR DINNER, HANNAH MADE her special dessert, rhubarb and cream cheese pie. It was Paul’s favourite, and he had two pieces.
“I love your cooking, Hannah,” he sighed as he leaned back in his chair.
“I love cooking for you,” replied Hannah. “You’re so appreciative!”
“I’m appreciative, too,” said Bird. “I just don’t gush as much.”
Hannah chuckled. “You don’t need to. I saw how you ate every bite and asked for more.”
I like Hannah’s cooking, too. Lucky thumped his tail under the table.
You like anybody’s cooking.
I do. I do.
“You made an extra pie,” noticed Bird. “Is that for tomorrow?”
“No, that’s for the Piersons.” Hannah filled Paul in on her conversation with Laura. “Pete is under the weather, and he really likes this kind of pie.”
Paul rubbed his belly. “Can you blame him? It’s amazing.”
“Do you have time to run it over to them, Paul?” Hannah asked with a smile as they cleared the table. “Do you mind?”
“Anything for you,” he answered, and kissed her on the cheek.
“Why don’t I go instead?” Bird asked. “I haven’t seen them for a while. I could ride Sunny, and leave you two alone to get mushy with each other.”
“One day you’ll understand.” Hannah grinned as she began wrapping the pie.
“I understand already. I’m the three in the ‘two’s company and three’s a crowd’ rule.”
“Never!” exclaimed Hannah.
“I want to ride over and see the Piersons anyway, if it’s okay with you.”
Paul looked at Hannah, who nodded. “Great,” she said. “Just be home before dark, okay?”
“Okay.”
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Can I come? Can I come?
“Can I take Lucky with me?”
“Sure.” Hannah added. “Be careful on the road.”
“Okay.” You can come.
Hooray! Hooray!
Bird helped Hannah put the wrapped pie in a cloth bag with handles so she could safely carry it on horseback. She left the house with the brown dog happily following her.
5
MERRY FIELDS
Honour all with whom we share the Earth;
four-leggeds, two-leggeds, winged ones,
swimmers, crawlers, plant and rock people.
— anonymous Native American Elder
Sunny and Bird took their time getting to the Piersons’ farm. Leisurely, they hacked down the gravel road, followed by Lucky, who sniffed every bush happily. Bird smiled with pleasure. There was nothing she liked better than to ride her horse bareback in the cool, fresh evening air.
Hannah’s pie smelled delicious. Bird was sure that Laura and Pete would be delighted. The Piersons had always been good to her. She counted them among the people she could rely on in times of need. They’d helped her when her grandfather had tried to sell Sundancer, and counselled her wisely whenever she needed to get on the right track. They cheered her up, too, Bird thought. They had a wonderful, sunshiny, practical outlook on life. Merry Fields was the perfect name for their farm.
Bird could just picture them now, sitting by the fire in their roomy kitchen, chatting about the day’s events as Laura stitched a ripped pocket or mended a worn sock. The house would smell of fresh flowers and home cooking, and the kettle would be on, ready to offer a friend or neighbour a cup of tea. It was always like that.
Merry Fields was not far from Saddle Creek, and soon Bird and Sunny were strolling up the driveway. Lucky was busy somewhere, but Bird wasn’t worried. Cody was likely around, and he’d keep an eye on the pup.
Interesting, Bird thought. There were no lights on in the kitchen, and the truck wasn’t parked in its usual spot beside the house. Maybe the Piersons had gone out somewhere. But where would they go if Pete was not feeling well?
Bird slid off Sunny and removed his bridle so he could graze. Don’t go far, Sunny. I don’t know how long I’ll be.
Dark Days at Saddle Creek Page 5