Vein of Love

by Pat Mestern

  “I imagine she didn’t take that speech too well.”

  “She gave the guy a piece of her mind.”

  “Ouch!”

  “When we get back I’ll take him on,” Ramona said. “I just feel … hollow at the moment.”

  “Coffee, I think you need a strong cup of coffee.”

  While Don poured the coffee Ramona cleared the rest of the stacks of papers from the table. She was so close … so close. “How was your foray? Successful?”

  “Yes,” Don said. “Harry has a bank account, actually several accounts, at the Royal Bank. He also has a safety deposit box. The bank will have permission for me to examine the box’s contents by tomorrow. The amounts in the accounts are substantial. I have an idea where it comes from, but more paperwork is necessary. I can get that by working with the proper contacts after we get home.”

  “Why don’t you put your feet up and relax. I bought a nice fish to fry for supper.”

  Chapter 10

  Algoma

  Thursday, August 13

  The Bank: 10:00 a.m.

  Don showed his credentials and the key to the bank manager and was assured that all was in place for him to have access to Harry Forest’s safety deposit box. A short time later the box, a large one, was handed to Don who took it to a table where he could privately sort through the contents. It quickly became quite clear that Harry had invested in mining stocks, a lot of mining stocks. Over the years he must have had counsel about his investments as they all paid good dividends. Everything was up-to-date. The latest papers were dated July 2001, the earliest, 1937. The only surprise Don found was a black velvet pouch that contained a small box with a diamond ring inside. He took a close look at the ring and an engraving on the inside, CC & HF December 1931.

  Hadn’t Ramona told him a ring had been put on Charlotte’s finger just before her death? Was this the ring? Had Harry taken it off Charlotte’s finger when he and Jonas removed her remains from the grave? If so, why? Harry had met Ramona by 1978. Had he been so taken with her resemblance to Charlotte that he meant it for her as a memento of his love for her aunt? Why was the ring here and not at the southern Ontario cabin or with his will? Why no direction in his will as to what to do with it? Don looked in the pouch again and took out a small piece of paper. On it was written five words “As love happens, love repeats” The words made no sense to Don.

  Don signed the appropriate forms, tucked everything in his briefcase, and left the bank. He’d promised Ramona that he’d take her out for lunch then to the cemetery. He didn’t want to be late.

  The Lauzon Cabin: 11:00 a.m.

  The table was laden with piles of paper; letters, pictures, several maps. It had taken Ramona an hour to sort through the two boxes, first into two piles. One was important to her research. The second contained items that were not relevant to Harry, Ollie, or Nibi.

  There were letters written to Nibi, some dated after Ollie’s death. There were letters for Ollie from relatives in Europe, letters to both from various friends across Canada. As she read each from the more important pile, she made two smaller piles. The final most important papers and pictures were tucked into a large brown envelope. Some of the letters brought tears to her eyes. A dozen wet tissues were eventually tossed into a wastebasket.

  By the time Don arrived to pick her up, Ramona had cleared the table, washed her face, dabbed her eyes several times with cold water, brushed her hair then changed into a clean pair of slacks and sweater set.

  “Did you have any luck with your search?” Don asked as he walked through the door, his briefcase and three bags of groceries in his hands.”

  “There’s mention of Jonas.” Ramona was purposefully evasive giving him an answer. “Harry was more a father to him than a friend. Jonas told the truth. He definitely was a very troubled lad in London during the late 1960s. Did your trip to the bank produce any results?”

  Don smiled. “Yes. I’ve pretty well answered any questions I had about certain financial issues pertaining to Harry’s will. By the way, did you know that Jonas is here today, not at the lake?”

  Ramona looked surprised. “I haven’t seen him.”

  “I met him at the landing. He said the plane had to make a run to Matinenda so he hitched a ride back as he wanted to have a chat with us.”

  “I did leave his list at the store. He’ll be picking up his supplies.”

  “Well, he specifically said he wanted to see us again. So I invited him to come for supper. I bought some supplies so we could feed him.”

  Ramona laughed. “Please tell me that it’s not tomato soup, cheese, and bread.”

  “No, it’s not. I stopped at the store and got two large frozen lasagnas, some salad fixings, and a tub of chocolate ice cream. Jonas will be here for 6:00 o’clock. There’s no need to dress for the occasion. Jonas is in a plaid shirt, denim overalls, and moccasins.”

  Ramona smiled. “He’s appropriately dressed for bush living, methinks. I have just one question, Don. And, I have to ask it before he comes. How did you know he had another name?”

  “Ah, all that will be revealed around the table tonight.”

  5:50 p.m.

  Jonas didn’t disappoint. He knocked on the door four times then walked in, his red plaid shirt and blue overalls emphasizing the frame of the strong, broad-shoulder fellow, definitely used to hard work. To Ramona’s surprise, she realized that his hair and eyes strongly resembled those of her Uncle Tomas. She shook her head. No, it couldn’t be … impossible. She sneaked quite a few looks at him as she made the salad while the guys set the table.

  Fortunately, Don had brought two large lasagnas because Jonas ate enough for three men. Ramona picked away at the salad, leaving the more filling entrée for the men to enjoy. After the ice cream had been consumed and coffee was served, the conversation around the table got a little more intense.

  “So, are you ready for a reveal?” Don asked Jonas, who was stirring two teaspoons of sugar into his java.

  “Why do I have a feeling that my life is going to get a bit more complicated,” Jonas said.

  “It doesn’t have to,” Don replied. “You might be pleasantly surprised, as you might too, Ramona.”

  “Me?”

  “I’ll explain. You can ask questions later. Jonas, your mother spent a lot of time up here as a young woman, didn’t she?”

  Jonas nodded agreement. “So she said.”

  “Let’s just say on one of those visits she had a liaison with Ramona’s Uncle Tomas. She left for home and found out she was pregnant. She had a beau so she passed the pregnancy off as his fault. They married, quickly. You were born. The man stayed in the picture for one, maybe two years before he left you and your mom to fend for yourselves. That’s when your life sort of went sideways—bad friends, bad choices. Your mom, Daisy Williams, took to the bottle and the street. The only two people other than your mom to know the true story were Harry Forest and Tomas Carmello.”

  Ramona gasped and shook her head. “You’re telling me that Jonas is my cousin?”

  “Yes,” Don said. “Because Daisy Williams lived in London, Harry kept an eye on her and the babe. He couldn’t do anything about her turning to booze and …” Don hesitated then continued, “When Jonas’s life began to unravel, it was Tomas who suggested to Harry that he be relocated in the north and that his last name be changed. If you were up here, at least Tomas could keep an eye on you.”

  Jonas, who’d stopped stirring to concentrate on what Don was saying, finally spoke. “Once I got here, it was Tomas who set me up with a cabin on the lake. It was my father who made a good man of me.”

  “Your father, Ollie, Nibi, and Harry Forest all had a hand in it.”

  “How do you know my story?” Jonas asked.

  “Enough to say your name is in Harry’s will.”

  “And there’s more,” Ramona said. “There are vague references to a child in letters from Harry to Tomas and Ollie that I’ve been reading.”

  “That mi
ght be a different thread,” Don cautioned.

  “So you’re saying Harry Forest mentioned a Jonas Williams-McMann in his will,” Ramona said.

  “That’s all I can say at the moment,” Don said.

  “Well, I’ll be darned.” Jonas stood up and put out his arms. “Come here, Cousin Ramona. Can I give you a hug?”

  Ramona stood, tears streaming from her eyes. “Of course you can.”

  Jonas enclosed Ramona in a gentle bear hug. “I have family,” he said. “I have family!” He loosened his hold on Ramona. “What do I do now?”

  “Nothing changes,” Don said. “You have a home here. You now have Ramona and at least one other person if she chooses to tell her.”

  “Oh, I will mention you to … someone,” Ramona said. “Just give me time to sort everything out and choose an appropriate time to introduce you.”

  “So, I can go back to my cabin and resume my life, no problem?”

  “No problem,” Don said. “Just keep in touch. I’ve a few things to do before the will is finally probated. Even then it shouldn’t change your life unless you want a change in life.”

  “Well take my drawers and wash ‘em’!” Jonas said. “I’m gonna be a gentleman, of sorts.”

  Ramona wiped her eyes and laughed. “Gentlemen, let’s have our coffee on the porch to celebrate the end of an amazing day.” She reached for the coffee carafe and turned toward the porch door. “Don, if you’d please bring the milk and sugar. Jonas, you’re in charge of the spoons.”

  Jonas began gathering spoons. “I didn’t think I’d ever see the day when I’d be having coffee with family, or even see family. I didn’t know I had family. Nibi is the closest I’ve come to feeling I was family to anyone in the past forty years.”

  Ramona stopped walking and turned to look at Jonas. “Did you just say Nibi ‘is’ rather than Nibi ‘was’?”

  “Why would I say was?’

  “Nibi is still alive? She’d be at least ninety-nine years old!”

  Jonas smiled. “She’s turning one hundred on September 2nd. She’s in pretty good shape for her age, a little hard of hearing, a bit frail, but has full brain capacity.”

  Ramona looked at Don. He appeared definitely surprised by the news but managed to say, “And, where is she residing?”

  “Retirement home in Espanola, the same place that George’s father calls home, although the man doesn’t recognize her or anyone else, not even his son.”

  “My heavens! Who’d have known!” Don exclaimed.

  “No one,” Jonas said. “That’s the way she wanted it. She lost Ollie. She lost Tomas. The letters stopped arriving. She didn’t belong on any reservation. She needs help with daily chores, otherwise her mind is as sharp as a tack. She chose to go to the home, saying it was best for her.”

  Ramona managed to pull herself together enough to say, “Coffee. We definitely need more than coffee. I bought a bottle of Scotch off George and tucked it in a kitchen cupboard. Anyone want a drink?” Don and Jonas agreed a good stiff drink was in order.

  On the porch Ramona sat between Jonas and Don in comfortably cushioned Muskoka chairs. Very little was said as they watched the sun set beautifully over Lake Lauzon. Each was deeply ruminating in their thoughts. When one finally spoke, it was Jonas who said, “I’m going to head back to my cabin tomorrow. There’s a plane heading for the lake with supplies for a fishing camp. I’ll make sure to keep in touch. “He took Ramona’s hand and squeezed it. “I can’t lose touch with my cousin.”

  Don looked across to Ramona, smiled, and said, “I think we’ll go east tomorrow. We might need to spend one more day in the north before heading south again.”

  “You’re going to see Nibi, aren’t you?” Jonas asked.

  “Yes,” Don said.

  “George has the address of the home. Jonas gently squeezed Ramona’s hand. “Will you say hello for me please and tell her that I’ll see her on her birthday.”

  Chapter 11

  Friday, August 14

  Highway 11

  The drive from Algoma Mills to Espanola brought great memories to the fore once again for Ramona. With Alex Beaton CDs playing softly in the background, she relaxed. On more than one occasion she glanced to Don only to find him looking at her. There was a genuine comfort in his presence. Don must have felt the same. A number of times he reached over and gently squeezed her hand.

  When he finally spoke, it was quietly, as though he didn’t mean to bother her. “How do you feel about taking the ferry from the island to Owen Sound on the way home? I mean, are you prone to getting sick on a boat? Taking it would cut four hours off our drive home.”

  “I’m fine with it if you are,” Ramona replied. “I need to get home sooner rather than later to deal with the burial ground issue and to find out who bought the Carmello property.”

  Give me all the details about the old burial ground issue.”

  After an initial explanation, for the next half hour the two discussed strategies that might work to save and protect the burial grounds.

  “One thing I know for sure,” Ramona said. “If Harry Forest was alive the beggars would have a real fight on their hands. In his later years he wasn’t one to take a back seat in situations regarding cemeteries. The two of us have been through this particular issue before. We lost. It all came down to a bag of bones that we weren’t allowed to present as evidence of the destruction of graves.”

  “You had a bag of bones?”

  “I had found bones. Members on the committee had found money in their pockets.”

  “Let me guess. They were paid off by developers.”

  “You bet,” Ramona said. “How about weekends in the city, expensive dinners, tickets to all the big games, theatrical shows, chauffeured rides.”

  “And you know this because … ?”

  “I knew one of the wives. There was a messy divorce and … then chatter to get even with the beggar by the ex-wife.”

  “And, what about the bag of bones?”

  “Strange you should ask,” Ramona said. “They were going to be buried in a secret location on Harry’s property. But he changed his mind at the last minute and gave me the bag. He told me to tuck it away as, to quote him, ‘the fight isn’t over.’ From experience he probably knew that eventually the fight would escalate to include not only the burial ground but the church building itself.”

  “That explains why you still have the bag. It doesn’t explain where the bag is now.”

  “It was, and hopefully still is, in a metal box in the attic at my old home place, the one that’s been sold.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “No. I didn’t want them in my home. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep at night with something like that in the house.”

  “Can they be validated as being from the church’s burial ground?”

  “Yes, because of several items Harry found at the site along with the bones. They are inscribed and identifiable. He traced most to families who attended the church, and in several cases descendents still belong to the congregation.”

  “Where are they?”

  “They are safely tucked away in my safe deposit box.”

  Don laughed and squeezed Ramona’s hand hard. “There’s the answer to saving the church and burial ground. Get members of those families on your side. Get newspapers behind your cause by displaying the finds for them. Let them take pictures. Retrieve those bones and show them to the committee, the council, the press.”

  “That’s just it. I probably can’t retrieve the box of bones now. I was friends with the gentleman who owned the property. I visited him a lot. He let me store a few things in the attic. Now that the property is sold I don’t know who or what I’m dealing with. It could be developers ready to build a strip mall on the property. It is convenient to the high school, a new subdivision, and the highway.”

  I’ll help you, Ramona. I promise I’ll help you fight this battle. I’m due to retire shortly and will have a lot of time o
n my hands. This is something I believe in.”

  Ramona laughed. “You’re beginning to sound like Harry, only you talk more, a lot more.”

  “The only thing I can do is my best. I don’t give up easily. We won’t involve the police regarding the bones. We’ll stick to your story when chatting with committee members. A newspaper write-up would draw attention to the destruction especially if we show the bones and personal items.”

  “That is precisely what we need,” Ramona answered. “The more people see the desecration of the graves, the angrier they might get. We need to think outside the box, so to speak.”

  “We can only hope,” Don said.

  After a quick stop for coffee and a bathroom break, Don brought up the situation regarding Jonas. “You must have been surprised to find that Jonas was a cousin.”

  Ramona smiled. “It wasn’t as much of a surprise as you might think. Uncle Tomas was a bit of a womanizer. Dad always joked about little Tomases. Mother always hushed that sort of talk around me. Let me ask you what you’d do if you found out you had brothers and sisters?”

  Don thought for a moment. “I’m just getting over knowing I was adopted, maybe. As I mentioned I can’t find adoption papers. Until I find out who my birth mom and dad were, I’m rattling around in an empty tin can. Look!”

  Don signaled and pulled the car to the side of the highway. Both watched seven deer pick their way through an open area next to the road. Four were obviously spring-born.

  “They’d better disappear into the deep recesses of the forest before hunting season,” Ramona said. Back on the highway again she asked Don what he knew about his adoptive mother.