Patchwork Society

by Sharon Johnston

  Waiting for Sass to throw up again, Ivy reflected on the difference between young Tina Courtney, “who had done it in the washroom,” and Sass, who had done it with “too much champagne.” Sass has money and parents. Tina has neither, she noted to herself. In that moment, Ivy appreciated the importance of Clara’s down-to-earth approach to sex. Rich or poor, an unexpected pregnancy is complicated, thought Ivy.

  Sass had a last gag and went to her room. Ivy felt heartsick. Trysts between nursing students and medical residents weren’t just discouraged; they were penalized. Sass’s fiancé, Robert, was in his last resident year. Ivy’s friend hoped that if the chief of staff or his department didn’t learn about her condition until spring, Robert would be allowed to finish his year.

  Pondering how Robert’s and Sass’s lives had been upended, Ivy was determined to stay her own course.

  CHAPTER 31

  Red postponed visiting Clara for several days. She was a much more dominating woman than his own mother. He didn’t immediately come up with a reason why Ivy should leave nursing and marry him. She had expressed her dissatisfaction as a nursing student, but Clara wouldn’t feel it was his business to advance that argument. It would also be hurtful to repeat what Ivy had said: “I feel I’m reliving my childhood working in a hospital.” He could assure Clara that he would always look after her daughter. On the other hand, Clara expressed many times how fortunate she was to have an education to fall back on when her husband died.

  Red knocked on Clara’s door, expecting the right words would pop out of his mouth at the moment of asking for Ivy’s hand. Clara seemed surprised to see him. She stepped back so he could remove his boots. Then she invited him in and offered tea.

  He remained at the door, sensing her wariness at what he might say. “I thought you might be interested in the changes I’m making to I.J. Donnelly and Sons. I’m changing the name to Donnelly Building Materials to reflect the expansion of the company into ready-mix concrete.”

  “Shouldn’t you learn the business before expanding it?” Clara asked. “Until your father fell gravely ill, I think he managed the company very well.”

  “I think it’s time for a change. I’m the third generation, Mrs. Durling. I think my father would approve.” Small talk is going nowhere, he thought, determined to say what was on his mind. “I’ve come to ask for Ivy’s hand. I love your daughter.”

  “I love her, too, Red. It would be folly for her to drop out of nursing to get married.”

  “My wife will never have to work.”

  “Ivy has a year and a half to graduate. Are you willing to wait?”

  Red smiled. “I’ll leave that to Ivy,” he replied, not afraid to challenge Clara.

  “I provided a good life for Ivy. You’re too young to know what happens during a war.”

  Red had never seen Clara emotional.

  “There will be another war,” she told him. “I follow the European news. The German chancellor is building up arms and ignoring the Versailles Treaty. A war creates widows.”

  “Mrs. Durling, you’re too pessimistic. Wouldn’t you love to have your daughter living next door?”

  “Absolutely — when she has her nursing diploma.”

  Red knew he was being dismissed. “It will take a year to build the house,” he said on his way to the door.

  “Then another six months shouldn’t matter.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Clara’s frugal lifestyle and wise investments put her in a secure financial position. She had taken Barnaby’s advice to sell her stocks just before the 1929 crash and could now look forward to retirement with more time to play bridge and enjoy the many friends she had made in the Soo. Clara also looked forward to visiting Ivy in Montreal but had one last responsibility before leaving Shingwauk as the school nurse.

  Reverend Hives had asked her to integrate the Wawanosh girls into the new building before she departed. They were currently housed in a rundown home five miles downriver from the new building. Wawanosh was in worse shape than the old Shingwauk. Fitzpatrick Construction was on track and on budget to finish the entire project in the fall of 1935. The new building was designed to accommodate 130 Native children, half of whom would be girls. However, after seeing the ambitious building plans, Clara saw a problem. The plumbing for both genders would be in the same location. She reminded Reverend Hives of Tina Courtney’s situation while there was still time to modify the building plans.

  “Plumbing should be installed at opposite ends of the school to avoid contact between the boys and girls during an intimate moment.”

  Reverend Hives chuckled at Clara’s delicate use of intimate to describe going to the bathroom. “At this point, any change in the building plan will drive up costs. The House of Commons voted to put $450,000 in the budget for three new residential schools. There are a hundred residential schools that need rebuilding.”

  “Henry Hamilton, our Member of Parliament, belongs to the ruling party,” Clara said. “See what he can do.”

  Through a circuitous route, news of Tina Courtney’s pregnancy reached Ottawa. Headmaster Hives spoke with Indian Agent Sims, who wrote to the Department of Indian Affairs. Hamilton brought up the plumbing problem in the House of Commons. Despite wry “washroom humour” in the Canadian press, Parliament agreed to an increase in the budget for Shingwauk to have segregated toilets.

  The new building plans called for a proper sewage disposal system. However, raw sewage still flowed into the St. Marys River from the old building and would until it was torn down. September being very warm, the boys were allowed to swim. They were asked not to go in the river near the effluent outlet where the water was warmer, but none of the custodians stopped them.

  Before long, nine-year-old Denis Plain, from the Chippewa reserve near Sarnia, came down with a high fever and difficulty swallowing. He was quickly transported in the school car to General Hospital with suspected diphtheria. Sister Marie Claire, the director-general of female staff at the hospital, didn’t want to admit an unbaptized child to her care.

  “This is your chance to bring an uncommitted child into your fold,” Dr. McCaig said, knowing full well he wouldn’t let a child be baptized a Catholic without the consent of his parents, who were hundreds of miles away. Dr. McCaig diagnosed diphtheria, and to her credit, Sister Marie Claire allowed Denis to remain in an isolation room for two months before the thin, tired boy returned to the school.

  When the cook complained about Denis’s special diet, Clara, no longer afraid of losing her job, spoke her mind. From then on, Denis was served the same food as the custodians.

  Sometime later, Clara was in Dr. McCaig’s office on Queen Street on another matter. She asked him how he had become involved with Shingwauk. He opened the middle drawer of his desk and handed her a typed letter he had written, which was addressed to Indian Agent Sims. “The first tender submitted by Fitzpatrick Construction was rejected in 1929 at the time of the stock market crash. However, the Department of Indian Affairs still asked me to report on the condition of the school.”

  Clara sat opposite Dr. McCaig and read his troubling report:

  October 24, 1929

  I made an examination of the Shingwauk Indian Home yesterday and find the sanitary conditions there rather unsatisfactory. The boys’ bathtubs have never been connected to the sewer, and where they are now placed is very unsatisfactory. The headmaster’s quarters, which haven’t been occupied for some time, are uninhabitable. The roof leaks, the floors in the lower flat are rotten, the walls are cracked, the plaster is falling off, and the whole place is in a generally dilapidated state. It will require a thorough renovation before it will be fit to live in.

  On account of the recent presence of two cases of active tuberculosis in the school, I think it would be advisable to have all the children tuberculin-tested. If the department wishes this done, I’ll be glad to do it at any time.

  Yours very truly,

  Dr. Andrew S. McCaig

  “That’s how I
got involved with the school,” Dr. McCaig said. “The Shingwauk children became a very meaningful part of my practice.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Sass quit nursing school and returned to Senneville long before her condition showed. Ivy’s own indecision contrasted with her friend’s gumption.

  “Why did you enroll in the RVH nursing school?” Ivy asked while Sass was packing her suitcase.

  “I wanted to be a writer of romance novels, and RVH has a cosmopolitan clientele. I nursed a man wounded in the robbery of a downtown bank and talked to the cops guarding his room. A diseased prostitute working on St. Laurent Street and an unmarried pregnant girl who attempted to hang herself are all great fodder for a romance novelist. My mother can take the stories I don’t use for her crime books.”

  “I wish I had your confidence,” Ivy lamented, giving Sass a farewell embrace.

  From her dormer window, she watched the Mitchells’ car pull away. The large trunk left in Sass’s room was the only evidence she had occupied it. The trunk would be on the train to Senneville the next day. Ivy sat on the stripped bed and cried. Sass’s parents and her fiancé, Robert, had left Sass’s free spirit intact. “I’m a pawn,” Ivy whispered, as though her friend were still in the room. She curled up on Sass’s bed and slept.

  In March 1935, Red booked himself into the Windsor Arms Hotel in Montreal for a three-day seminar on the use of ferrocement in domestic construction. Ivy, forewarned of his trip, had saved her monthly late-night pass to have dinner with Red. He greeted her in the hotel’s large wood-panelled foyer, looking more like a businessman than the outdoorsman she knew him to be. Red ordered cocktails for them, and they sat in the foyer with other diners waiting to be called by the waiter. Ivy was keen to impress Red.

  “Is ferrocement a new product?” she asked, recalling Red’s letters.

  “Ferrocement has been around for a hundred years. It was used to build small ships in the war.”

  “Wouldn’t a cement ship sink?”

  Red laughed and patted Ivy’s hand. “No!”

  “Don’t patronize me, Red Donnelly,” she said playfully, pulling away.

  The waiter indicated that their table was ready, and they followed him into a corner of the dining room about twenty feet from an upright piano. The black jazz pianist glanced in their direction with his finger on his ear. “Got a song?” he asked.

  “Later,” Red said, matching his white-tooth smile with the black man’s friendly grin. Turning to Ivy, he asked, “What have you been up to?”

  “My friend Sass Mitchell got pregnant over the holidays and has quit nursing school.”

  “Hmm, that doesn’t seem wise. There are better reasons to quit. Like marriage.”

  The waiter interrupted to get their order. Red chose venison tenderloin, while Ivy selected chicken in a white wine sauce.

  “Do you have wine by the glass?” Red asked.

  “Only bottles,” the waiter replied.

  Red chose a rosé from the wine menu, something suitable for white or dark meat. Then he leaned forward. “My mother informed me that Clara’s no longer renting at Batchawana.”

  “She’ll run interference until I graduate,” Ivy offered. “Mum will make sure I’m not swept off my feet by you beforehand by keeping us apart. She was single and seventeen when she entered St. George’s Hospital in London to train as a nurse. Mum wanted to be Florence Nightingale, dedicated and self-sacrificing. She didn’t spend her childhood in a hospital.”

  “Did you have other plans?”

  “I wanted to go to New York and take Columbia University’s writing course. There just wasn’t enough money to do that.”

  Reaching across the table, Red bumped the bottle of wine that the adept waiter, with a swift catch, stopped from toppling. “Lovers,” he crooned as he returned the bottle to the table.

  “If Sass can kick over the traces, so should I,” Ivy said. “But I’m not Sass.”

  “You’re what I want,” Red said, tapping Ivy’s foot. They lingered over coffee and then Red asked reluctantly for the bill, adding a good tip.

  A young businessman arm in arm with a girl in a fur coat wasn’t remarkable on Sherbrooke Street. Passing the Carsley mansion, Ivy told Red about Hugh lugging her blanket-loaded toboggan up the hill.

  “Are you dating him?” Red asked, twirling Ivy to face him and backing her up the hill.

  “Are you jealous?”

  Red frowned. “Just a straight answer will do.”

  “We went out for coffee before he left for Europe. He’s backpacking with his girlfriend for a year before going to McGill.”

  “I don’t want to wait until you finish nursing school,” Red said with an intensity that thrilled and pained Ivy.

  “Let’s not give my mother a heart attack. I shouldn’t have brought up Hugh Carsley.”

  At the front entrance of Royal Victoria, Red handed Ivy a package. “These are the architect’s drawings for the house I want to build on Hilltop. Our house.” He embraced Ivy and then pulled away. “Look at them and let me know if you want changes. I hope we don’t have to delay getting married.” He chuckled. “I should threaten to live in sin with you if Clara objects to us getting married.”

  Ivy watched as he stepped into a waiting taxi, twisting his torso so he could wave goodbye.

  When Ivy entered the hospital, she told the curious receptionist, “I had a lovely evening.” As soon as she reached her room, she tore open the envelope of plans and spread them on the bed. The dressing closet, French doors, and fireplace are just what I had asked for.

  CHAPTER 34

  In July, before leaving for a summer holiday, Ivy arranged to see Miss Hobbs. The director of nursing had won the gold medal in her graduating class at the Galt Hospital when Clara was the superintendent. Ivy wanted Miss Hobbs to help her mother understand why she wanted to quit nursing school and return to the Soo. She had practised her argument with a fellow student before seeing the director. The day of the appointment, Ivy arrived at Miss Hobbs’s office with butterflies in her stomach but still confident that the director, who had intervened when she had previous difficulties, would be helpful.

  “Miss Hobbs, I thought growing up in a hospital would make studying to be a nurse a natural choice. I even thought I might have an advantage. It hasn’t worked out that way.”

  “I remember, Ivy, how unhappy you were when your mother retrieved you from Calgary. I seem to remember you were living with the family who adopted Florence. Am I right that you attended a private school?”

  “They enrolled me in a school I loved.”

  “Are you telling me you want to quit, Ivy?” The word sounded so irresponsible coming from Miss Hobbs’s mouth.

  “My fiancé, Red Donnelly, quit medicine when his father unexpectedly died. He returned to the Soo to run a family business. If he were still in medicine, we wouldn’t be thinking of marriage. But he’s home now and wants to settle down. He’s building a house that we plan to move into once we’re married.”

  “So he had a change of plans and now you’d like to change your plans, as well. Is that what I’m hearing?”

  “I suppose I seem selfish after my mother has made so many sacrifices.”

  “But you have, too, Ivy. Your mother was very busy when you were growing up.”

  Ivy curled her fingernails into her palms.

  “I have a suggestion,” Miss Hobbs continued. “Go home for your vacation and enjoy being with your beau. Then come back, and if you’re still unhappy, we’ll let you go with no hard feelings.” Miss Hobbs walked Ivy to the door of her office and stopped. “You deserve a home, Ivy. Your life has indeed been complicated.”

  Ivy didn’t know what to expect when she arrived in the Soo. She did understand from Clara’s letters that her mother was busy integrating the Wawanosh girls. Clara had written to Ivy that she and Dr. McCaig had visited Wawanosh to discover the girls did their laundry in the river water. Ivy was aware of the ongoing sewage even after the new schoo
l was built. She hated to add to her mother’s problems. It was disappointing not to have the cottage, but she was determined to enjoy her vacation. Despite her desire to quit nursing, she had never let those sentiments affect her patient care. After being discharged, the patients on many occasions had left Ivy with grateful notes.

  Lily wanted Teddy and Jane to vacation at Batchawana and was pleased when Ivy offered to take over the English classes at the West End Library, which allowed Ivy to become reacquainted with Irma D’Agostina.

  Irma had returned to the Soo after spending a year at North Bay Normal School. She was now teaching at McFadden Public School where Anna McCrea was the principal. On Saturdays, Miss McCrea worked at the library that Lily had started. The Italian families, including Irma’s mother, revered Miss McCrea. While Sal was in jail, the principal had made sure the D’Agostina children didn’t fall behind. A three-month sentence for amateur bootlegging was unheard of in the Soo. Dan Roswell didn’t last long as the chief of police, but he had done damage to the D’Agostina family. The school and the whole community had rallied to support Irma, who with her brother, Dominic, had held the fort while their mother was absent. Ivy was pleased to see her high school friend doing well. Irma was confident and full of news.

  “Dominic lost his job at Algoma Steel and was hired by Donnelly Building Materials,” Irma told Ivy, happy to hear that she was engaged to Red. Irma reached for Ivy’s hand.

  “Jewellery isn’t allowed in nursing school, so we decided to postpone the ring,” Ivy explained.

  “When are you planning to be married?”

  “I’m caught between my mother and Red. Red and I are building a house that will be ready before I graduate. It’s complicated.”

  Dominic drove a mixing truck and offered to take Irma and Ivy to a building site to see how cement was poured. The enormous drums that churned the sloppy mixture before pouring it into the prepared ground fascinated the girls. Ivy asked Dominic to return the truck via Hilltop Crescent so she could show Irma the building site.