When Cheryl came back a few hours later, I looked up and was shocked. Cheryl’s long hair had been her pride and glory. Now, there was hardly any left, and it was cut in stubbles. As she told me what happened, my anger mounted. After she finished telling me about it, Cheryl added, “And she made me sweep all my hair from the floor and then do the dishes. But I didn’t cry, April. Not once.”
Still, I wasn’t going to let that old hag get away with that without voicing my opinion! My fury outweighed my normal fear of Mrs. DeRosier. I stormed into the kitchen, saw Mrs. DeRosier there, and demanded, “Why did you scalp my sister?”
Instead of answering me, Mrs. DeRosier slapped me. I ignored the sting from the slap and yelled, “You had no right to do that!”
“No two-bit little half-breed is going to yell at me like that!” Mrs. DeRosier screamed back. Out came the scissors again. I actually pushed her hand away from my hair. I think we would have had a fight except that she used the threat of separating Cheryl and me for good. So, in the end, I also went back to our room minus my own crowning glory. I was still breathing hard when I walked in. Cheryl looked at me and did a double take. Her eyes, like saucers, remained on my hair. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but she remained speechless. She had heard the commotion in the kitchen, but Mrs. DeRosier’s threat had kept her back. I looked in the mirror. My new hairdo looked worse than Cheryl’s. There I was, the big, protective sister going out to avenge the humiliation of my little sister, and I came back, myself properly humbled. It all seemed ridiculously funny, and I started to laugh. Cheryl joined in. It was good to be able to laugh in the face of defeat. After all, our hair would grow back.
The next morning, though, the DeRosier kids told the others that we had tried to dye our hair, and that’s why our hair had been cut. We were jeered and laughed at. At lunchtime, I confided in Jennifer, and she went to the Home Economics room and got some scissors. In the washroom, she cut Cheryl’s hair and mine so that it looked better. The aggravation over this incident gradually died down. The DeRosier kids were back to fighting with each other, although I sometimes had the feeling they were conspiring against Cheryl and me.
Left to ourselves in our room, Cheryl and I did our homework and read a lot. Sometimes, she would read my geography book and daydream. But mostly, she’d read about animals and adventure stories. I was into Nancy Drew and other mystery books, and occasionally I would read some of Cheryl’s animal books. So far, I had not read the book on Louis Riel. Whenever Cheryl wanted to talk about him, I would change the subject. I guess she got the hint because she began staying away from such topics.
On Saturdays, Mrs. DeRosier would take her eggs in, do her visiting and her shopping, and usually her kids would go with her. Mr. DeRosier, Raymond, and Gilbert went to work in the barns, or in the springtime they would work the fields all day. Cheryl and I would have Saturdays to ourselves. Since I was good at doing the floors, I’d let Cheryl go rambling outside with Rebel. One Saturday morning in the springtime, Ricky and Maggie didn’t go to town with their mother. Later that day, Cheryl and I knew why.
Cheryl was outside looking for Rebel. I was cleaning the kitchen. Ricky had already gotten hold of Rebel and he brought the dog close to the house for Maggie to watch. Then, making sure Cheryl didn’t see him, he slipped out to the pasture where the bull was kept. When he saw Cheryl nearing the pasture, he climbed back through the fence as if he had just come through the pasture. He yelled to Cheryl that Rebel had been hurt and that the dog was on the other side of the pasture. He said he was going for help.
Thinking that Ricky had just come across the pasture, Cheryl climbed through the fence and started running. She didn’t notice the bull raising its head to watch her. She didn’t see it start moving towards her. Her mind was only on Rebel.
I saw all of this through the kitchen window. I flew out the door, saw Maggie giggling to herself, and ran horrified towards the pasture. The bull was now charging across the field, straight at Cheryl. I called Rebel and raced toward Cheryl. I climbed though the fence and yelled to Cheryl to run.
Cheryl heard the pounding of the bull’s hooves at the same time she heard me. She stopped to look around, and when she saw the bull, she froze in terror. I was screaming all the while for her to run, and at the last minute, she did move. The bull narrowly missed her. It slowed to a stop and turned around. Cheryl heard Rebel barking, but she didn’t know that he had streaked behind her and was now preoccupying the bull. I was running towards her, and when I reached her, I grabbed her hand and we ran back to the safety of the fence. We turned to see how Rebel was doing. The dog was prancing around the bull, easily avoiding the short charges. Cheryl called him, and he came happily loping back to her.
Ricky and Maggie had stopped laughing, and they glared defiantly at me as I walked up to them. Without saying a thing, I hauled back and punched Maggie right in the face. Her nose started bleeding as she landed on the ground. Ricky jumped on me from behind, and his weight knocked me off balance. Cheryl, who was still shaking, walked over to him and kicked him hard. I motioned for Cheryl to leave things to me. Ricky and Maggie fought back and screamed bloody murder. I was silent as I ploughed into them. The fury in me wouldn’t let their punches and their scratches hurt me. When my anger had evaporated, I stepped back and looked at them with contempt. They were bloody and crying. As I turned to ask Cheryl if she was all right, I noticed Mr. DeRosier and the two foster boys in the distance. The boys, who were standing just behind him, had big grins on their faces, the first time I had ever seen that. The expression on Mr. DeRosier’s face was unreadable. He didn’t say or do anything. He just turned and continued toward the garage.
At suppertime, Ricky and Maggie came down after everyone else was seated. Maggie wore a sleeveless dress to show off all the bruises and scratches she had received. Ricky had also dressed for the occasion. As they expected, their mother noticed their appearances right away.
“What happened? Did you two get into a fight?”
Maggie turned the tears on, so Ricky explained. “April and Cheryl were teasing the bull this morning, and we tried to make them stop, so they beat us up.”
Before Mrs. DeRosier could turn on us, Mr. DeRosier spoke up in a quiet voice. “Now, try telling the truth for a change. The tractor broke down this morning. I came back for some parts. You didn’t see me, did you, Maggie and Ricky? But I saw you, and what you tried to do. You’re both darn lucky I didn’t have time to get to you first.”
“Are you calling my children liars?” Mrs. DeRosier asked him, angrily.
“They’re worse than liars! What they did this morning could have gotten Cheryl killed. What the hell’s the matter with you? You three make me sick!” He slammed his fist on the table and silenced Mrs. DeRosier from saying any more. After a minute, he got up and stormed out of the house. Raymond and Gilbert looked lost. Even though they had barely begun to eat, they got up and left after him.
The rest of us finished our meal in silence. Mrs. DeRosier told Cheryl and me to go to our room when we finished the dishes. I knew she wasn’t going to let this go by without doing something, but I kept this worry to myself.
On Monday, Mrs. DeRosier kept Maggie home from school. When we got off the bus that evening, Maggie was in her good clothes, and it looked as if they had gone somewhere. She looked gleeful and triumphant. She whispered to Ricky, and they went into the living room, laughing.
About a month after the incident, at the beginning of the summer holidays, I was in the house one morning when I noticed a car enter the driveway and saw that it was Miss Turner. Then it hit me. Miss Turner was here to take Cheryl away. Of course; that’s what their secret had been. That’s why we had never been punished. I panicked. I couldn’t be separated from Cheryl again! I just couldn’t! But what could I do to stop it? Nothing! Nothing, except run away with Cheryl! But where could we go? Cheryl was outside somewhere. I didn’t stop to think what we would take. I just ran out the kitchen door and looked around
the farmyard. I saw Cheryl coming towards the house. Ricky and Maggie were still upstairs, sleeping. I heard Mrs. DeRosier calling for Cheryl from the other side of the house. I ran towards Cheryl and urged her to duck behind a building.
“Cheryl, Miss Turner is here. I’m sure she’s come to take you away.” I was shaking. I was glad to see that Cheryl had her jacket on.
“April, I don’t want to go away from you. They told me I’d never see you again.”
“I know, Cheryl. We are going to run away. Right now.”
I looked around the corner of the building. There was nobody in sight. We ran across the open grain field as fast as we could, trying to keep low. When we were into the safety of the woods, I said, “We’re going to Winnipeg. I’m sure I know the way there. We’ll just follow along the roads through the fields. When we get there, I’ll try to find the Dions. I’m sure they’ll help us. I know Mrs. Semple; she’ll just believe whatever Mrs. DeRosier tells her. Okay?”
Cheryl nodded, and we started on our journey. I had no idea how far it was, or how long it would take. We followed alongside Highway 200, the same way we went to Winnipeg by car. We walked all that day, ducking low in the tall grasses in the ditch whenever we saw or heard a car. Sometimes, we walked through nearby woods. Once, we saw a car moving slowly, and when it came closer, we saw that it was an RCMP car. I knew they were looking for us, and that we’d have to be more careful.
It grew dark, and the darker it got, the harder it was for us to walk through the weeds. We waited until it was pitch-black and returned to the road. Cheryl began complaining that she was hungry and tired, and wanted to stop and rest. I urged her on, saying that we had a better chance to make it if we continued through the night. In the middle of the night, Cheryl insisted she just couldn’t go on anymore. I knew how she felt because I was dead tired myself. We left the road and found ourselves in a field. Cheryl fell asleep, her head resting on my lap. I sat for a while to guard her, but I soon lay back and fell asleep too.
I was awakened by somebody who prodded at me. The sun was shining down on us, and when I remembered where we were, I felt exposed. I blinked and was dismayed to find a police officer standing over me. Cheryl was already sitting up, and she was still rubbing her eyes.
We were told to get into the car, and I sat there, glumly. The Mountie talked to us, but we ignored him and didn’t say anything. I was so disappointed that I couldn’t think of anything, except that we had been caught. I wondered if running away was a crime. We couldn’t possibly go to jail just because we wanted to stay together. I was surprised when we got to Winnipeg, after all. But we were taken straight to a police station. We were told to sit in the waiting area. After a while, the officer came back and gave us milk and cinnamon buns. I was wondering why we were waiting there.
“We almost made it, didn’t we?” Cheryl said. “If I hadn’t gone to sleep, we would have made it.”
“I went to sleep, too, Cheryl. Don’t worry, we’ll explain everything to them.” I had read about the RCMP. I knew they were good guys and that they would listen to us. I began to wish that I had talked to the Mountie in the car, after all.
We never did get another chance to talk to the Mounties. Mrs. Semple came in first, and she gave us a disapproving look. “I never expected this of you, April. Mrs. DeRosier is worried sick. Don’t you know how much she cares for you? You girls put a scare into all of us. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Do you know what could happen when you hitchhike? Why you ... could have been hurt.”
“We didn’t hitchhike. We walked,” Cheryl said, sullenly.
“Don’t try to tell me that you walked all that way. You girls have had a very bad influence on each other.” She turned to stare at Cheryl. “And you, young lady, I won’t be surprised if you land in reform school.”
“Why should she land in reform school?” I said, bitterly. “I’m the one who talked her into running away. I didn’t want us to be separated again.”
“And I suppose you’re the one who attacked Maggie?” Mrs. Semple asked.
“I beat her up. And Ricky too. They tried to kill Cheryl.”
After I said it, I realized it must have sounded ridiculous. Nothing was coming out right. I had wanted to explain everything in a very sensible manner. Instead, here I was sounding almost hysterical.
“You have too much imagination and not enough common sense,” Mrs. Semple said. “Mrs. DeRosier brought her poor daughter in and showed us what happened. Now, they have no reason to lie about who did what. It was a very vicious act, Cheryl, especially when Maggie refused to defend herself. Furthermore, Mrs. DeRosier brought a report from school to back her claim that you are a troublemaker. April, it’s touching that you want to cover up for your sister. But if we don’t do something now, she’ll end up in a reform school.”
“I’m not covering up! I’m telling the truth!” I shook my head in disbelief. How come they couldn’t see through Mrs. DeRosier and Maggie? How could I convince them of our honesty? Then I remembered Mr. DeRosier and the boys. He had spoken up for us once. If he knew about this, surely he would speak up again.
“Did you talk to Mr. DeRosier and Raymond and Gilbert?” I asked excitedly.
Mrs. Semple eyed me suspiciously and said, “April, you’re a beautiful girl. I advise you to keep your charms to yourself. Mrs. DeRosier told us that you’ve been flirting with them.”
Of course. The old hag had that covered too. After that, I just didn’t know what to say. Then Mrs. Semple gave us a little speech about what she called the “Native girl” syndrome.
“... and you girls are headed in that direction. It starts out with the fighting, the running away, the lies. Next come the accusations that everyone in the world is against you. Then there are the sullen, uncooperative silences, the feeling sorry for yourselves. And when you go on your own, you get pregnant right away, or you can’t find or keep jobs, so you start with alcohol and drugs. From there, you get into shoplifting and prostitution, and in and out of jails. You live with men who abuse you. And on it goes. You’ll end up like your parents, living off society. In both your cases, it would be a pity. Miss Turner and I knew you both when you were little, and you were remarkable youngsters. Now, you’re going the same route as many other Native girls. If you don’t smarten up, you’ll end up in the same place they do: skid row.”
I thought if those other Native girls had the same kind of people surrounding them as we did, I wouldn’t blame them one bit. Much of the speech didn’t make sense to me anyway. I’d never heard the terms shoplifting and prostitution, and I didn’t even know what drugs were. I’d been into drugstores and they sold all sorts of useful things. So far, I hadn’t had a crush on a boy ... well, not a major crush. And what the heck was skid row? All I knew for sure was that somewhere in that speech, she had insulted our parents, and I could see that it rankled Cheryl. I held her hand.
I thought once more of trying to reason with Mrs. Semple, but then Miss Turner walked in. Mrs. Semple went over to her and they talked for a few minutes. Then they came to us and told us we were going to the Children’s Aid office.
There, we sat alone in one room while they discussed our futures in another. I was still angry and felt like a criminal. We hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, maybe I shouldn’t have laid such a beating on those two brats. But it was Cheryl who was getting all the blame. Between the two of us, she was the more innocent. It was unjust.
“Cheryl?” I said quietly.
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re not the one who should be sorry. All of them are the ones who are doing wrong. They’re the ones who ought to be sorry,” Cheryl said, vehemently. After a few minutes, she said, “I guess I’m going that syndrome route, huh?”
“Of course not. Why do you say that?”
Cheryl smiled. “I just kind of accused everyone of being against us, didn’t I?” We both laughed.
It was awhile before Mrs. Semple and Miss Turner came ba
ck into the room. Mrs. Semple said to me,“April, we’ve decided it’s in your best interest for you to return to the DeRosiers’. You never got into any trouble until Cheryl came to live with you.”
“No, don’t send her back there. They’re mean people. Mrs. DeRosier said we’d never see each other again,” Cheryl shouted.
“Cheryl, we’ve arranged for you to go to the Steindalls’. If you give them a chance, you’ll be happy there. And don’t you worry. There’ll be visits between you and April,” Miss Turner said.
“Please don’t send April back to the DeRosiers’. They’ll do something bad to her. I just know it. Why can’t she come with me?”
“Because you’re not good for each other. Now, I don’t want any more nonsense, Cheryl. April, if you can talk any sense into your sister, you’d better try,” Miss Turner said to me.
“I want to talk to Cheryl alone,” I said. The two women looked at each other, shrugged, and left the room.
I knelt before Cheryl and said, “Cheryl, we can’t fight them. I know I’ll be okay with the DeRosiers. I don’t want you to worry about me, okay? And I don’t want to have to worry about you. I want you to be good at the Steindalls’. I want you to keep your grades up. This won’t last forever. When we’re old enough, we’ll be free. We’ll live together. We’re going to make it. Do you understand me? We are going to make it. We are not going to become what they expect of us.” I sat back on my heels and looked her in the eyes. She nodded and smiled through her tears.
“Okay, April; I’ll try to be good.”
5
On the ride back to the DeRosier farm, I went over what I had said to Cheryl. Those were big words, said on the spur of the moment. I had this idea that anyone who went to reform school was doomed for life, so I didn’t want Cheryl to end up in one. I could let the DeRosiers suck out my dignity for now, and I could pretend they had me where they wanted me. But my future would belong to me. I had said to Cheryl that one day we would live together, but that was a long way off. Maybe things would change and I wouldn’t have to live up to that statement. Or maybe if I became rich and important, people wouldn’t care that I had a proud Métis for a sister. As we approached Aubigny, my thoughts returned to my present predicament. Just what was in store for me? It was easy to think to myself that I didn’t care, but living it was different.
In Search of April Raintree Page 6