“But, aren’t you from Canada?”
“Yes, my family is from Sainte-Flavie, but my parents moved down here before I was born. My seven older siblings were all born in Canada, though, and they always say it was easy to learn English. That’s how I know.”
Emilie knew that Sainte-Flavie was about twenty-five miles from Rimouski and she couldn’t help but think it was ironic for them to meet over six hundred miles away from their homes. “Wow, you have a big family. Is that why we never saw you at the river with the other children all summer?”
Angeline looked down, hesitant. “Mostly I don’t like to be around other children my age. I’m usually very shy. The two of you needed help; otherwise I may never have talked to you.”
“Well, I’m happy you did.”
“So am I.”
Emilie couldn’t even express how happy she was. Angeline was the only girl her age she’d ever felt like she could speak to. For the first time in her life she had a strong urge to make friends with another being, one that didn’t walk on four legs. “My brother and I really can’t thank you enough for what you did. Do you have any idea why they hate us so much?”
Angeline shrugged. “My father says it’s sad that children fight at all. He says the fight should stay among grownups.”
“What fight is that?” Emilie asked, genuinely curious.
“I don’t understand everything; it’s grownup stuff. Papa says that every time the Irish try to strike for better conditions or better wages, Canadians are there to do the work they don’t want to do. Papa also says that’s why the big bosses love us but that we might be better off joining in the strike because the working conditions really are awful.”
“I see. My mother complains about the mill sometimes but my father always says it’s still better than starving on the farm.”
“I guess that makes sense. Did you like it? The farm?”
There was a sudden light in Angeline’s blue eyes and Emilie knew her interest was sincere. “Yes, I liked it. I liked the fresh air and the animals, mostly.”
“I loved everything about it.” The declaration came from Joseph. He moved to the other side of Angeline. “There’s so much space. And forests so thick it takes days to get to the other side, if you can get to the other side at all. And our river is not like this tiny Quequechan River you have here. The Saint-Laurent is so wide that you can’t see the other side of it on most days. The sky has to be completely clear and even then you can barely see there’s land on the other side.”
Joseph went on about Canada and Angeline hung on to every word. Emilie missed her attention but couldn’t help smiling. Her first day at school was ending much better than she’d thought possible. She had a friend, a friend that was both like her yet different. A perfect blend of a friend. Just for her. And apparently for her brother.
* * *
Later that night Angeline Fournier had dinner with her family just like every other night. There was just as much noise around her. Her four sisters and her mother talked about the eldest’s upcoming wedding. Her three brothers and her father talked about work and politics. Everything was like every other night, except Angeline felt different. She didn’t feel alone anymore. She had not one but two new friends, friends her own age.
Five years separated Angeline from the youngest of her older siblings. They all cared for her and took care of her in their own way, but she’d never been close to them like Emilie and Joseph were to each other. Angeline was used to feeling lonely. She never tried to tell anyone because she realized how bizarre it would sound for her to complain of loneliness while she grew up with seven siblings in an apartment where silence was impossible. But bizarre as it may sound, she still felt lonely.
She was the little one, the one no one ever seemed to speak to. Sometimes they spoke about her, but never to her. The only way she’d found to get their attention once in a while was her humor. A joke or a funny face would make them laugh before they went on with their own conversations. She’d craved attention her whole life. Until today. Joseph and Emilie both seemed eager to give her their attention. She smiled to herself as she ate her cabbage soup.
When she’d seen Joseph and Emilie after school she’d just wanted to help them. She figured she’d get the Irish boys off their backs and go her own way. But when Emilie asked her to walk with them, something happened inside her. Her heart opened up to this new girl, almost against her will. She would usually have said no thank you and walked away, but she couldn’t help but say yes instead. Something stronger than her and her old habits wanted to walk with Emilie, talk with her and be with her for as long as she could. That skinny girl, with her straight black hair, her black eyes, and her pale skin, was definitely odd, but also interesting. The way she spoke was different, like a grownup. The way she asked questions, with that wrinkle between her thick eyebrows, told Angeline she was truly interested in her answers. When Emilie talked with her Angeline knew she had her undivided attention, and she loved every minute of it.
Joseph was something else. What she liked most in him was his love for Canada. The way he spoke about the home country they shared was fascinating. Angeline had always dreamed of seeing Canada some day and when Joseph described it she felt like she could see it through his eyes. To Angeline, Joseph was the personification of Canada. He even had the look. Square shoulders and a solid build. He was ten but could pass for thirteen. He looked like her brothers when they were younger, like most boys her father referred to as hard-working, strong Canadian boys.
Angeline helped with dishes and went to bed thinking about the Levesque children. They’d decided to walk to school together, all three, the next morning. Angeline’s life had changed today. She was no longer the loner she’d always been. She was part of a trio she knew in her nine-year-old heart would stick together for a long time.
MAELSTROM
1891-1898
Chapter Five
June 1891
Emilie and Angeline waited for Joseph at their usual spot. It was the last day of the school year. The girls were eleven years old and they’d been inseparable since Emilie’s first day of school almost three years ago.
“He keeps looking at you,” Emilie announced as she looked over Angeline’s shoulder toward Tony Berardi, the boy staring at her best friend like she was a juicy piece of roast beef. Tony was in Joseph’s class. He was thirteen and evidently appreciated the way Angeline’s body had taken the shape of a woman over the school year. Even with the modest skirts and bodices she wore, one would have to be blind not to notice the way her chest protruded now compared to the flat chest she had back in September.
Emilie looked down at her own chest, still flat as an ironing board. She had no hips yet either, while her friend had developed an hourglass shape the boys, especially Tony Berardi, shamelessly admired. No, Emilie was as skinny and odd-looking as ever. She hadn’t even gained a whole inch in height since September and Angeline was now towering over her by four inches, as tall as Joseph.
“He’s not looking at me,” Angeline murmured. She didn’t seem aware of the effect she had on boys yet, which made Emilie smile. “He may be looking at you for all you know.”
“Oh please, Angeline, there’s nothing to look at.” Emilie laughed, but she was disconsolate. Not because Tony Berardi looked at Angeline instead of her. She didn’t care about Tony Berardi. She was convinced, however, that no one would ever look at her the way Tony looked at Angeline.
“Don’t say that, Emilie. You’re very pretty. You just don’t have the looks that boys like Tony go for. And boys like Tony aren’t worth worrying about. No, you’ll probably end up with a doctor, Emilie Levesque. Or a librarian.”
They both burst out laughing at Angeline’s comment. Emilie thought being married to a librarian might be a lovely idea. She’d be surrounded with books then. Of course, the chances she’d meet a librarian in Flint were slim. And a doctor? The only doctor she’d met in her life was old Doctor Michaud in Rimouski and that was
only in church on Sundays.
“Is Tony bothering you?” Joseph asked Angeline as he joined them, glaring at Tony. Joseph had started shaving a couple weeks ago. At the age of thirteen he almost looked like a man. His shoulders had broadened, his jaw had squared off, his muscles had started to show. He looked good in his white shirt and suspenders, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He was handsome, Emilie thought. She was proud of her brother, especially when he acted protective toward their friend, and she secretly wished he’d put Tony Berardi in his place the way she couldn’t.
“No, he’s not bothering me, Joseph. Let’s go now.”
They walked back down the dirt roads that took them to the triple-deckers of Flint like they did every day. Had Emilie known the news that was waiting for them at home, she thought later, she probably would have taken better notice of this specific walk home from school.
Emilie and Joseph did their chores and had dinner with their parents and half-brothers. After dinner, Edouard and Jean-Baptiste uncharacteristically retired to their bedroom. They would usually play cards with their father while Mathilde and Emilie did the dishes. Joseph moved to go to the front room where he and Emilie still slept every night, but Henri stopped him. “Stay here a minute, son. I have something to say to you and your sister.”
Mathilde placed her hand on Emilie’s shoulder and jerked her chin in the direction of the kitchen table. “I’ll finish this by myself, sweetheart.”
Emilie sat next to Joseph, both of them facing their father. It was hot in the kitchen. Emilie’s hair stuck to her forehead with sweat, but she knew the difficulty she had to breathe was not related to the heat. The nightmare she’d feared for a year was about to become reality. She knew it.
Her father spoke in a lower voice than usual. “Children, as you know we came down here to get enough money to pay back our loan so we can all go back to the farm. That’s what we all want, right?”
Joseph immediately nodded his agreement.
“Emilie?”
At her father’s insistence, she finally nodded. Going back home to Rimouski was what everyone in her family wanted, most of all her mother. She had no power to oppose their wishes.
“Good. I don’t see that happening any time soon with just your mother’s and my wages. We need your help.”
Emilie glanced at her mother. She was looking down at the dishes she was drying, her back to them. Emilie looked back to her father.
“We got you jobs at the mill. Emilie, you’ll be a spinner. Joseph, you’ll be a doffer. You both start tomorrow.”
There it was. The nightmare. In the past year Emilie had seen dozens of Flint children her age leave school to work at the mill. She knew her turn would come, but she always thought that since he was older, Joseph would be put to work before her, leaving her more time to prepare. Her father stood up and started leaving the kitchen table. Emilie could see the announcement hadn’t been easy on him, but she still had one very important question. “Papa?”
“Yes, Emilie?”
“We’ll be working at the mill all summer, then, right? Until school starts again?”
Her father sighed deeply. “You’ll be working at the mill until we go back home, Emilie. No more school.” With that, he left the kitchen and went outside.
Mathilde came up behind Emilie and placed both of her maternal hands on the small shoulders. “I’m sorry, Emilie. We know how much you love school, but you’re old enough now. I’m sure you understand.”
Emilie nodded as tears fell freely to her pale cheeks.
“We do understand, Maman. It’s time we contribute to the family’s effort.” Joseph’s voice was firm, determined, without a hint of regret.
“Thank you, Joseph. We knew we could count on you. On both of you,” she added, taking off her apron and folding it over one of the wooden dining chairs.
“Of course, Maman,” Emilie finally said. It took everything she had not to let her voice break and show her heartbreak. When she turned to her mother, she met a comforting smile.
“Well, you should both go to bed now. Tomorrow will be a long day.”
Joseph went to the front room but Emilie hesitated.
“Yes. I just need to run to the outhouse first.”
“All right, but be careful out there.”
“Yes, I will.”
While Emilie and her family occupied an apartment on the third floor of the triple-decker where they lived, Angeline’s family lived on the first floor of their building, making it much easier for Emilie to knock at the window of the room where she knew her friend was sleeping. Angeline shared her room with two of her older siblings, but judging by the animated conversation and laughter that came from their kitchen window, Emilie was almost certain Angeline would be the only one in the bedroom now and she was right. Angeline came to the window wearing an ample nightgown and her face immediately showed concern when she recognized her friend. She frowned and opened the window as quickly as she could. “Emilie, what are you doing here so late? What’s wrong?”
Emilie had run the two streets that separated her apartment from Angeline’s. She was still slightly out of breath when she spoke. “I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to meet you at the river tomorrow as we planned.”
“Oh? Why not?”
Emilie watched as Angeline looked down, disappointment mixed with worry on her beautiful face. Emilie couldn’t help but caress her friend’s soft cheek with her long and slim fingers, forcing her to look back at her. “I’m sorry, Angeline. It’s not that I don’t want to spend the time with you, you must believe me. It’s just that…”
“That what?” Concern once again took over Angeline’s expression.
“It’s happening, Angeline. Joseph and I are starting at the mill tomorrow.” Emilie could no longer hold on to her tears.
Angeline reached through the open window and grabbed both of her friend’s hands. “Oh, no. Already? But you’re my age!” Angeline paused, firmly holding Emilie’s hands as she sobbed. “So we won’t have much time together over the summer, I assume?”
Emilie cried even harder at Angeline’s words. “It’s worse than that,” she finally said through her sobs. “I’m not coming back to school in the fall, Angeline.” Emilie slowly calmed down, as if stating the words out loud had made them so true that there was no point fighting her fate.
“But…but you love school so much.” Angeline’s voice was small, incredulous.
“I know, Angeline. I do love it. But none of us gets to go to school very long around here. Why would it be different for me? I’m not special.”
“Don’t you say that, Emilie Levesque. You hear me? You are so very special. Oh, I can’t believe this is happening. When am I going to see you?” Angeline leaned her forehead against Emilie’s as they held hands.
Emilie’s heart broke at the thought of not swimming in the river with her best friend or sitting by their favorite buttonwood tree every day, chatting about the books Emilie read, the drama du jour in Angeline’s large family, the Flint children they didn’t care for. And their walks to and from school. Oh, she would miss those most of all. She couldn’t lose all of her beautiful friendship with Angeline because she was becoming a mill worker. It had taken her nine years to find a true friend, and no one could take that away from her now. She wouldn’t let that happen.
“On Sundays? We could spend every Sunday afternoon together if you want, and we could find a few minutes after dinner like tonight. Could you do that?”
“Yes, of course I could,” Angeline answered.
Emilie was pleased to see her smile for the first time during her unannounced visit. Angeline’s whole face illuminated when she smiled, even in the dark.
“I would love that very much, Emilie.”
“Great. I will see you tomorrow after dinner, then. Good night, Angeline.”
“Good night, Emilie.” Emilie kissed her friend on the cheek and ran back home, her heart a little less heavy now that she’d made
plans to see Angeline, but her spirit still dragging behind with the knowledge that life as she knew it, her childhood, was officially and irrevocably over.
Angeline stayed in bed but couldn’t go back to sleep after Emilie left. She tried to make sense of this new development and simply couldn’t. Why would a girl who loved school as much as Emilie did be forced to stop and go to work while she, who really didn’t care much for school at all, got to keep going? Angeline could still hear her siblings talk loudly in the kitchen. Two of her older sisters and one of her older brothers were now married and had their own apartments, but she could swear every time someone left the familial home the ones that stayed got louder to make up for it.
With all the commotion going on, she barely heard a knock on the bedroom door. “Angeline?” Her father’s voice, even when he whispered, carried over any other noise in the apartment. “May I come in?”
“Yes, Papa.”
Her father came in and closed the door behind him. He walked to Angeline’s bed and sat by her feet. “Was that your friend I saw running in front of the house a little while ago? That little Levesque girl?”
“Yes. She came to tell me she couldn’t meet me at the river tomorrow because she’s starting at the mill.”
“I see.” Her father looked genuinely upset by the news. “Is it just for the summer?”
“No. She says she won’t be coming back to school in the fall.”
“I see,” her father said again, this time with more weight in the two simple words, and Angeline knew he understood all the implications behind her statement. “I guess you’ll miss her a lot, huh?”
“I will, Papa, but that’s not the worst part.”
“It’s not?”
“No, not even close. The worst part is that of all the children I know, Emilie’s the one who loves school the most. She loves it so much, Papa. And she’s so good at it. It’s so unfair that I get to keep going to school and she doesn’t. So unfair. And I feel so guilty about it.”
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