New Beginnings (New Beginnings Series)

by Doreen Winona Logeot

  Another man joined them holding the key to their room. He introduced himself as Pierre and was there to escort them to their temporary accommodations. Near the rotunda they came to the grand staircase. Sara could hardly keep moving there was so much to admire. On each side of the lower steps, on top of two high pillars, two huge bronze Iroquois figures stood. Each held a long staff which supported shining light fixtures. They proceeded to the steps made of white slabs of marble. Sara ran her hand along the balustrades of beautifully-carved black walnut, her other arm still held by her husband.

  Pierre leaned to Sara, as if to speak so others would not hear him. “Princess Louise, Mark Twain and Sarah Bernhardt, herself, have walked up these stairs and run their hands over the banister.”

  Sara looked at her fingers touching the railing. “Mark Twain?” she whispered back to the valet.

  He nodded back and continued up the steps. Once on the landing they followed him to a strange room with something resembling the face of half a clock over the entrance. The clock had one hand on it which was pointing to the number two. As they stepped inside, another uniformed man greeted the new guests. It was a rather small room, having only enough space to hold themselves and possibly two others if they stood close together. As the others did, they turned around to face the entrance. The gentleman they met inside the room pulled an expandable gate across the front, latched it and repeated with another gate on the inside. Sara could see through the gateway and watched as business continued as usual before them. Sam felt her hold more tightly onto his arm.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Sara,” he said quite sincerely. “This is one of those newfangled elevators. I have never been on one before either, but I have read how they work.”

  The man who held the key stated, “Six, please.”

  The operator spoke, understanding someone who had never been in such a device before could find it frightening. “It is safe, really,” he assured Mrs. Fielding, “Otherwise I wouldn’t be in here and I am assured these young fellows wouldn’t be either.” They smiled back at him. “This lever determines the direction we will go, either up or down.” He moved the handle gently ahead to the word marked “up” and the small room gave a slight pull upward and Sara’s knees almost gave way for a second, but Sam held her arm firmly. She glanced at him and saw his smiling eyes and as he showed no hint of concern, she relaxed a little. As they travelled upwards they could see the top of the doorway moving downward as the wall through the one gate kept them safely inside. A number announced the next floor, then another gate through which a hallway, carpeted in red, could be seen. But they continued higher, passing similar hallways two more times until they came to the sixth floor. The attendant was a friendly fellow and eager to tell them how the elevator worked, stating it was powered by steam. He stopped the car a few inches above the adjoining floor, pulled the two gates open and instructed the couple to “Watch your step and have a nice day.” The gates closed and the elevator lowered itself out of sight.

  The Fieldings followed Pierre as he led them to their room five doors down from the elevator, the bellhop following with their luggage. The valet stepped inside, holding the door for them. Sara stood spellbound as she saw the impressive room, unable to say anything. The bellboy set their luggage near the bed and left after Sam presented him with a tip, as he had with the elevator operator. Pierre showed them the conveniences the suite held. A pushbutton bell was available if they wanted, at any time, to call the chambermaid. The room contained a porcelain sink, but unlike the ones at home a turn of the tap on the faucet, the valet called it, brought water to their command … cold and hot. They were told down the hall was one of several washrooms on each floor. Later upon their inspection they found it came complete with a large porcelain bathtub and one of the innovative toilets Sam told her about. It held the water in a tank high above on the wall and gushed through the bowl with the pull of a chain.

  Sam generously tipped the valet as he left their suite. “Makes for good service if you treat them right,” he told her.

  Their room was obviously designed for complete comfort with luxurious plush carpets, velvet furnishings and striking marble mantels. The walls were elegantly decorated in an unusual pink with suffused colour washed over. On the ceiling small cupids looked to be wishing them well as they looked down upon them.

  Sam answered her unasked question of the unusual design. “I asked for a bridal chamber.”

  She quickly hugged him close, her whole face smiling. “I can’t imagine all those tiny eyes watching us.”

  “Thank goodness for darkness,” he answered with the same look of satisfaction.

  Going to the window, Sara opened it for a moment to admire the view. Sam followed, wrapping his arms around her, as it was still cold, even dressed in their winter outerwear. They were high enough from the ground the breeze was stronger than when they were standing on the street. They looked out onto the park across the way where children were playing and dogs were running after balls or sticks. As they both looked to the south they could see the stone-boats going into the park loaded with the blocks of ice and empty ones leaving. This city seemed to contain a feeling of joy. Laughter and sleigh bells filled the air and the mood was quite contagious.

  Feeling the cold, they stepped back and closed the window to enjoy their lavish, temporary home.

  Crossing the street to start their afternoon of sightseeing, Sam and Sara walked through the park where the blocks of ice were being left. A lot of construction noise was coming from the area and their curiosity got the better of them. One gentleman, who the others called Hutchison, walked around carrying a large paper rolled up under his arm. He looked to be the supervisor and was directing the others as to how to cut the blocks of ice and where they were to be placed. Being quite interested, Sam asked a worker, as he was walking by, what was going on.

  “This here architect, Hutchison, has designed a large ice palace for the upcoming carnival in February. It is going to take a lot of work to get this thing done by then. It is supposed to be at least ninety feet high.” He excused himself and continued on his way to retrieve something for the work crew.

  Already the structure was several feet high and covered a large area of the park they learned was called Dominion Square. Sara came to a standstill when she let her gaze pass the soon-to-be palace and saw a beautiful building, built of materials safe from melting when the year started to warm.

  Near the far side of the park was an enormous cut stone and brick building. It had eight large pillars at the front appearing to hold up the overhead awning. On the flat roof another storey above the other were thirteen large bronze statues, looking to be scenes depicted from the Bible. Set further back, a big domed roof held a spire and cross on top. The covering shone a copper colour, but was already starting to show the greenish tinge such roofs eventually turned.

  “It looks like a picture I saw once of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. I never imagined there would be such a beautiful cathedral to see on our travels,” Sara said starting to walk toward the church.

  “The valet told me of sights to see while we are here and called this St. James Cathedral, built a little over ten years ago. He did say it was fashioned after such a building in Rome, but is smaller.” Sam offered Sara his arm and they walked together toward the building.

  It was really quite magnificent and they felt rather minuscule as they walked through the enormous doors. The inside was beautiful and displayed an elegance neither had seen before. They looked at the beautiful stations of the church and the intricate design and fine craftsmanship it all contained.

  “A lot of love and faith went into everything designed for this place,” Sara whispered to her husband as they sat for a spell admiring the sight.

  “It seems to bring it closer to home,” Sam answered her, but Sara remained silent, not agreeing or disagreeing.

  At the moment few people were inside the vast room. Some were like the Fieldings, admiring the structure and others w
ere knelt near the front, their hands clasped together as they were deep in prayer. Occasionally steps trying to be quiet, or the rustling of clothing could be heard as the echo in the room seemed to magnify each minute sound. A woman several benches ahead of them covered her mouth to try to stifle a deep, raucous cough which seemed to intensify with the resonance. Sara felt a shudder go through Sam and looked into his face. Without saying anything he gave a slight smile and shrugged, not understanding why it startled him.

  After they went outside into the cold again Sara stopped for a moment taking his arm in hers. “What made you tremble like that? It seemed to come from deep inside of you.”

  “I don’t know really. Occasionally I hear someone give a cough in a room which echoes and I always give the same reaction. I wonder if it isn’t a memory from a long time ago, but I never could figure what of. It seems so far away it really can’t be important.”

  The date was the ninth day of December and the daylight hours were becoming fewer and fewer, making the workdays shorter for many. As the darkness was starting to set in and most of the workers at the ice palace were packing up for the day, Sam pulled his watch from its pocket. It was already after five and he told Sara he made reservations at the hotel’s dining hall for six-thirty. They both thought it was time to go back to their room and prepare for dinner.

  Walking into the hotel they were greeted with the atmospheric lighting the kerosene fixtures gave and it made the room dream-like. Around the walls of the lobby were lamps, obviously cleaned often, giving everything a soft glow. The subtle lighting led them back to their room.

  They prepared for the evening and Sara went to take a bath. It was the first time in her life she sat in a tub full of warm water which wasn’t poured from a bucket. She marveled at the way the water was there immediately at her command, hot or cold, as much as she wanted.

  They dressed in their finest, quite prepared for a special evening. They walked along the Promenade on the second floor, a hundred-and-eighty-foot long and thirty-foot wide hallway leading to many elegant rooms. The dining hall was another magnificent room with a ceiling near thirty feet high. At least fifty impressive columns and pilasters with black walnut bases and shafts of highly-polished butternut presented an impressive air. Looking around the room they found murals expertly painted on the walls displaying scenes from Europe and tropical areas.

  The host greeted them and led them to a candlelit table, pulling the chair out for both of them. From each plate he removed the cloth napkins, gave them a light flick and placed each on their laps.

  Without delay, an ice bucket on a stand was placed beside them. The waiter showed Sam the label on the bottle that followed. After Sam gave his approval, the man poured a small amount of the clear wine into an elegant crystal-stemmed glass, handing it to him. Sam rolled the wine around the sides of the glass, held his nose over it for a moment, tasted the liquid, rolled it across his tongue for a few seconds, swallowed and said, “Excellent.”

  The waiter returned the nod, filled Sara’s glass and added to Sam’s. Before leaving he said with a strong French accent, “Le garçon will be taking your order shortly.” He bowed slightly and stepped away.

  Sara gave her husband a questioning look to which he answered almost laughing, “I used to work in a gentlemen’s club in Toronto and many would test their wine this way. I used to think they were high-classed snobs, but I have always wanted to do it.”

  Sam raised his glass to his wife, “To an enlightening journey.”

  Slightly mystified, Sara ‘clinked’ her glass against his, wondering how informative this expedition would be.

  Within moments the garçon arrived at their table telling them from memory what was available for their dinner. Together they enjoyed a wonderful meal of ‘Pheasant under Glass’ served with tiny whole potatoes and baby carrots. A dessert of maple syrup over a small cake completed their meal. A tiny cup of a strong coffee was set at each plate. They sat and enjoyed their evening together as a concert violinist serenaded the patrons in the room.

  It was near nine when they left the dining room and decided to take a stroll further along the Promenade. On the mezzanine were Egyptian and Turkish salons and the Victorian Vice-Regal Suite where royalty stayed while visiting the city. They walked down the Grand Staircase and couldn’t help but feel rather elegant and maybe a little bit like one of the important people for at least a moment. Returning to the Rotunda they discovered a men’s smoking room, a room for billiards, a barber’s shop, cigar shop and finally a mixed room for men and women for reading and writing. Entering that room they decided to sit for a short while. They chose comfortable chairs and sat near the marble fireplace. On a small table sat complimentary newspapers from many cities, some from outside of the country, offered to the guests at the hotel.

  As they sat quietly, Sam read the news from New York. Sara watched as couples dressed quite elegantly came through the main doors into the hotel. Most men, as they stepped inside, removed their top hats. In turn the people walked into a room off the reception area, then returned without their expensive outerwear. Sara let out a slight gasp as she saw one lady wore several diamond necklaces and a tiara in her hair. The gentleman, who held out his arm to her, wore a smart suit, with not a thread out of place. The creases in his trousers were as straight as possible. The collar on his stark white shirt stood quite stiffly at his neck. To finish off the formal look his moustache was carefully waxed so it stood out horizontally a good three inches on each side. As the others had before them, the pair turned and continued down a hallway, their noses in the air.

  Sam, hearing his wife’s gasp, followed her gaze to where she was staring, which was uncommon for her to do. He carefully folded the newspaper, rose from his seat and offered her his hand saying, “Let’s take a stroll.”

  She rose and took his arm, not sure what to expect. He led her to the hallway where the others were disappearing from sight. Already they could hear what sounded like a symphony orchestra.

  “Want to see if we can join them?” Sam leaned to her and whispered.

  “Even in this beautiful gown, I feel slightly underdressed for whatever occasion it might be.” A couple moving as stiffly as possible pushed their way past the Fieldings, not offering an explanation or an apology.

  “Well, it won’t do for you to feel underdressed. I must take you shopping on Monday.”

  “You will do no such thing,” Sara whispered back. “I don’t think I am capable of looking down my nose quite well enough to deserve such elegant clothing.” She made a slight face, crossing her eyes and let out a giggle.

  The woman standing behind her, holding onto a gentleman’s arm, let out a huff of disapproval. The man stood straight and tall but his eyes sparkled showing his amusement.

  Sam and Sara stood at the double doorway into the ballroom until an usher informed them it was a private party and calmly closed the doors sending them away. They had seen the dance floor covered with men and women moving all in unison, bowing and curtsying at the appropriate times. Large crystal chandeliers sparkled as the flames from what must have been a thousand candles flickered.

  Sara laughed as they walked away. “I bet none of those ladies have ever milked a cow while sitting on a three-legged stool.” Sam laughed along with her until she added, “That felt like peeping under the tent wall at the summer fair, where the men went to watch the dancing girls.”

  “Sara! You didn’t!” Sam was quite surprised.

  “My friend, Anne, dared me once when we were still in school, but all I saw were the men’s shoes. My mother hauled us both out of there by the scruffs of our necks.”

  They both continued laughing at the events of the past and the present as they went back to their room. Leaving the elevator, Sara pinned Sam against the wall saying, “You make me feel like I am sixteen again and nothing bad has ever happened in my life.” She kissed him hard and pulled the skeleton key for their room from his vest pocket. Moving quickly she ran down the
hall as Sam followed after her. As she unlocked and opened the door he playfully grabbed his wife, lifting her into his arms.

  “Sam … your leg!” she protested.

  “If you are sixteen, then I am eighteen and it is a long time until I get wounded.” With his foot he pushed the door closed, not bothering to light the lamp.

  Neither saw the older elevator operator watching them. He was leaning forward with his head protruding from the partly-closed gate. A woman dressed in a lush robe peeked out her door at the commotion. Finding nothing she gave a questioning look at the attendant.

  “Honeymooners,” he smiled as he continued to latch the gate.

  “Young people,” she frowned shaking her head. Pushing the door closed she added, “What is this world coming to?”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  They woke late the next morning. The sound of many cathedral bells filled the air as they were ringing in the parishioners to their various churches. It was Sunday and as Sara looked outside she could see the streets were busy with people going in any given direction. Montreal was well known for its many places of worship. Mark Twain once said he couldn’t throw a brick in this city without hitting a church window. By the sound of the bells ringing throughout the morning she was certain it was true.

  The room was comfortably warm even though the fire had gone out in the fireplace. Sam explained to her about the hot water heat that kept them so cosy. She climbed back into the bed beside her husband. They enjoyed the idea there was nothing they needed to get up for, not even to refuel the fireplace or to warm water for their morning wash.

  “What has happened to this world in the last fifteen years?” Sara wondered out loud. “While I was hiding out in the wilderness others were getting running water, telephones, electric lights, elevators and so much more. They must have developed everything possible. What else could there be?” Sara lay on her stomach on the bed, her head resting on both hands.