New Beginnings (New Beginnings Series) (31 page)

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.

Sam watched her, thinking she did look sixteen again. Maybe the world was starting new for both of them once more, their pasts forgiven. “I can‘t imagine what else, but I expect we have only seen the beginning of it, the tip of the iceberg, so to speak.” He reached across and brushed the strand of hair away from her face. “But right now if all we had was a tent in the middle of nowhere … just you and I … I would be happy.”

“And we would have to keep each other warm,” Sara answered, snuggling close to his side.

A knock came on their door near noon. Sam reached for his robe saying, “Last night I asked for lunch to be brought up today. That must be it.”

They enjoyed a quiet meal together, staying in their night wear. They sat at a small table in their warm robes, Edith’s moccasins on their feet. They enjoyed each other’s company, not talking about anything serious, mostly about happy memories of the past.

Sam surprised himself that he could remember some tales, which made Sara laugh. He realized there was a lighter side to his life he never thought existed before. He explained when he moved to Winnipeg and bought himself a young and mischievous gelding. He was living with Cedric and Amelia then and took the horse home to show them. Instantly Amelia suggested he should call the horse ‘Devil,’ but he had a hard time deciding on a name. “He wasn’t a bad horse really,” Sam explained, “just full of energy. I thought to show him off to them and headed out in a full gallop. I could hardly control the beast and I couldn’t stop him. He came to a sudden halt at a creek and sent me sailing over his head landing in the water, knocking myself out. Seeing the accident, the Stones ran after us and they watched this horse haul me out of the water by the shirt collar with his teeth. Amelia scolded me saying, “You scared the Dickens out of me,” and that was how he got his name. He never pulled such a stunt again, but he is certainly a smart animal … after all, he knew where to find you,” Sam finished his story with a wink.

They could have continued the day as they were, but Sam finally said, “It is nearly two o’clock. If we want to see any sights today we better get started before it’s dark again. We will only have a little more than three hours of daylight.”

They hurried to dress in their winter clothing for the cold day. Sara pulled her warmest dress from the suitcase and as she unfolded it she found the warm wool knickers and a pair of folded woolen leggings carefully hidden inside. A note pinned to them said, “Keep warm, Edith.” She smiled at the generosity of the woman who a week earlier was unknown to them.

Going outside, Sam waved to a sleigh and driver. It was a cold day and the gentleman covered their knees with a warm bearskin. Sam asked him to take them to McGill University so they could familiarize themselves with the place for the next day.

The driver was a nice man and occasionally would tell them fascinating facts, or if they drove past a building of interest he pointed it out to his passengers. They travelled up Peel Street in a north-westerly direction, occasionally seeing a child slide down a snow bank on his backside. The driver was cautious as he drove along, once stopping the single horse as a toboggan went scooting across the street before them. “You children should stay off the road,” he shouted after them, but they probably never heard him, they were laughing so hard. “Hope you don’t mind if we continue at a slow pace for a while.”

“No problem at all, sir,” Sam responded.

The driver turned for a second at the mention of the word ‘sir’. “McCauley,” he replied, shaking Sam’s hand.

“Fielding,” Sam responded as they continued along.

“They used to close Peel and Windsor Streets in the evenings during the winter months for the people on toboggans, but new runs have been made on the mountain. They were hoping to take those participating out of danger. Of course you still have to watch out for the young ones.”