New Beginnings (New Beginnings Series) (32 page)

He continued up Peel only two blocks to Sherbrooke, turning right they went another block. He guided the horse into the beautiful park-like grounds of the university. The area contained several magnificent buildings. Although the tracks were in the snow showing many people had been there, hardly anyone was around. When asked where they could be, their driver answered, “No doubt on the mountain, taking in some excitement for the day.”

“Can we go there?” Sara asked, quite interested and possibly wanting to put the reason for their visit to the university out of her mind.

“Of course, right away.” McCauley gave the reins a light slap. Persistent at a strong walk the horse continued on. Their travels were uphill most of the way and continued to be so, but felt to be getting steeper.

Being concerned Sara asked, “Is there any danger your horse will slip on these steep icy roads?”

“Very little,” Mr. McCauley answered, “He’s wearing his winter boots. They have spikes on the bottom. It’s much safer on these roads, but a person doesn’t want to get his foot stepped on when he is wearing them.”

They travelled on, passing a large wooden cross Sara was certain could be seen from anywhere in the city. As they continued up the side of the mountain joyous sounds of laughter and amusement could be heard, getting louder and louder the closer they went to the crowds.

Their first stop was to watch people tobogganing on the slopes of one of the hills. Ice chutes were made for the sleds to go down and men, women and children of all ages were participating. Mr. McCauley asked if they would like him to show them more of the sites before they stopped to which they both agreed.

Progressing further along the route they passed a single file of gentlemen all dressed alike in heavy wool blanket coats, toques and sashes wrapped around their waists, snowshoes on their feet. They travelled quickly and seemed to keep a rhythm to their steps and stayed uniform, in line with each other.

Immediately Sara spoke up, “They look like the men in photographs I have seen of the ‘Coureurs de bois’. I never really thought of snowshoeing as a sport and these people seem to be doing it for speed, not for enjoying a winter day like we used to.”

“You have used snowshoes?” Mr. McCauley turned to Mrs. Fielding, a surprised look on his face.

She nodded and added, “We often went out in the afternoons, my son and I, to see what decorations the frost and the snow made, or to follow the rabbit trails. We never tried the shoes when I was back east. Some Indians came to our home one wintry afternoon to share tea. I couldn’t imagine how they could cross snow that in places was five feet deep. I saw the shoes before, but never thought they were so efficient. It is amazing how they actually hold you above the snow. One time I fell and thought I would take one snowshoe off to regain my balance. I put that foot through at least three feet of snow and still didn’t touch the hard ground. It was a good thing my son was there to help me up.” She smiled at the happy memories she had of Willie. “Is there somewhere we could try it for the afternoon?”

“I don’t think so,” their driver answered. “These fellows are rather toffee-nosed about their ‘Montreal Club’ and wouldn’t consider letting a lady partake in a bit of ‘tramping’ with them. Most of these chaps are members of the elite and are quite proud of themselves.” He brought the sleigh to a stop and waved at the men tramping across the trail ahead of them. As he expected the wave was not returned. As the last man crossed their path, he flicked the reins and they continued ahead.

The trail led them to a large pond where people were enjoying themselves skating on the freshly-cleared ice. Several large boys wore skates and were pushing blades with handles to clean off the snow. For the most part it looked like couples were enjoying themselves drifting around the frozen pond arm in arm.

“This may be more to your interest,” Mr. McCauley suggested.

But Sam frowned, “I’ve never skated before.”

“And it wouldn’t be good for your leg either,” Sara added, much to her husband’s relief. He was sure an afternoon of slipping and sliding was not his idea of a good time.

Further across the small lake were men dressed in a type of uniform, or at least matched clothing, playing with sticks with a square puck on the ice.

“What are they doing?” Sara asked, quite curious at the sight and seeing the large crowd of spectators.

“It is something rather new, although several of the soldiers stationed here played a kind of version of it. They call it ice hockey and McGill students made up the rules three years ago. The first real game was actually played on the St. Lawrence in December of ’79. At that time they would use whatever they could get their hands on for sticks and used canes, brooms or branches to hit a ball.”

“Would you like to stop and watch, dear?” Sam asked his wife.

Sara nodded her response, being quite interested in what the men were doing.

Mr. McCauley drove the horse to a place where other sleighs were stopped. As he helped the pair down from their seat he proceeded to tell them about this new sport. “The first game had fifteen players on each side, fourteen guiding the ball and the other man guarded the goal.” The Fieldings could see the goal posts were two large clumps of snow on the ice. At that moment the puck came flying at the goalie. He made a dive for it, but in the process flattened the goal marker. Immediately another lump of snow was brought from the sideline.

“But there are only nine players on each team now,” Sam mentioned.

“It was thought fifteen was too many on the ice at one time and as you can see they have adopted field hockey sticks so each side is even.”

The crowd erupted in a cheer as a goal was scored at the opposite end of the ice. A man standing with a small slate board announced through a megaphone, “Eight to five for the Seniors.”

They continued to stand among the people watching with great interest at this new activity taking place in front of them. It seemed not only were there new inventions being made to the advancement of technology, but also in recreation.

Even though the day was still cold it appeared they and everyone around them were ignoring the weather. They were so involved in the game and no one stood still as they cheered their favourite team.

Sara put the collar of her coat up around her neck and held it closed with her gloved hand.

“Are you cold, Mrs. Fielding?” their driver asked, realizing not everyone could stand the weather like a true Montrealer.

“Just a little,” she answered, but it was evident her cheeks and the tip of her nose were red.

“Come,” Mr. McCauley invited them. “There is a gentleman here with a new hot drink he is trying to create interest for. I really like the beverage myself, but it seems more often than not the people up here want something a little stronger,” he said with an understanding smile.

The man had a small stand near the hockey game and stood beside a container steaming with the hot beverage inside. He eagerly complied when he was asked for three mugs of the drink. He watched them enthusiastically as they tried his new concoction and was so relieved when Sara took a sip, savoured, then swallowed it, giving a nod of approval.

“This is really good,” she answered his questioning look.

“Very good,” Sam agreed. “It seems to taste of beef.”

“I have made a hot drink of beef extract. I thought it would be good for people participating in these cold winter activities. It is meant to warm them up, but to also provide a nourishing drink. I am so glad you like it, but it seems so far there isn’t a lot of interest in it. I am thinking of going to England to see if a market can be found there.”

“Well, I believe we will hear about you in the papers, Mr.…?” Sara offered her hand to him.

“Bovril,” he answered, “I hope one day you may be right.”

The couple took another drink of the tasty hot concoction which did seem to warm its way through and prepare them for a bit of frolicking on this cold day.

“How about a try down the toboggan hill?” Sara asked her husband, her eyes smiling. “It shouldn’t bother your leg too much.”

Although he was apprehensive, Sam agreed, thinking this could be a fun new experience for him. He couldn’t remember doing anything of the sort before, not even sliding down a hill on the seat of his pants like he saw the children doing. Together with Mr. McCauley they went to the sleigh, as it was a fair distance to the toboggan slide.

They enjoyed several passes down the hill, both feeling like they were in their teens again and throwing their cares to the wind. By the time they thought it was indeed the moment to call it a day, the sun was down behind the horizon and showing only a hint of light in the western sky.

Feeling worn out, but in a way renewed and relaxed, Sam and Sara sat back in the sleigh as Mr. McCauley slowly drove back to the Windsor Hotel. The evening felt enchanting as large flakes of snow slowly drifted down from the sky.

The horse unexpectedly came to an abrupt stop, raising his front feet from the ground for only a second. A toboggan and its two passengers came whizzing down the large snow bank before them. Two boys were shouting in alarm as they saw the horse so close to them and couldn’t stop. The boy standing on the back, the rope in his hands, was trying to protect the younger child sitting on the front. He rolled on top of the other, turning the sled over in the process.

Immediately Mr. McCauley jumped down from the sleigh grabbing his horse by the bridle, keeping him under control. Slightly angry he raised his voice to the boys, “Why must you children insist on playing in the road?”

Sara quickly jumped down and ran to them as they were still in a heap on the snowy ground. Sam followed close behind. “Are you boys all right,” she eagerly asked as she leaned over the two, trying to pry them apart while assessing the matter at hand.

The younger of the two boys eased his way out from under the other appearing to be none the worse for wear. “Tommy,” he exclaimed, “are you all right, Tommy?” He sounded to be almost in tears.

The bigger boy slowly rolled over with Sara’s help, his hand covering his nose and mouth. He tried to make his way to a standing position but she said, “Sit for a moment, Tommy. Let me look at that.”

Right away Sam told him, “It is all right young man, Sara here used to be a nurse.”

Sara pried his hand away and found blood spotted it. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Sam took a step back. Right away she looked at the boy’s mouth and found the blood coming from a front tooth loosened in the fall. With both thumbs, one over the other, she carefully pushed the tooth back into place. “If you are careful until it’s solid again, you shouldn’t have any trouble with it. Don’t eat anything hard for a few days.”

“Thank you … thank you very much,” the younger of the boys said to Sara as he put his arm around his brother to take him home, the rope from the toboggan in his other hand. The older boy pulled away from his brother, his hand still on his mouth, holding a hanky to absorb the blood. Without saying anything he walked toward the sidewalk. “We are really sorry, mister,” the boy added to Mr. McCauley as he walked by following the other lad.

“Be more careful next time,” the driver said back. Turning to the Fieldings he added, “Sorry about that folks. It is lucky it was you that was there,” he said to Sara, “a lot of people around here would have pulled the tooth out. I didn’t know it could repair itself.”

“No sense letting the boy lose a tooth if he doesn’t have to, but I’m not positive it will be all right. All a person can do is try.” Sara took a handful of snow and wiped her hands with it to clean away the blood.

Sam kicked snow over the spots of blood in the road. He hadn’t said anything since the accident and Sara knew for some reason it bothered him.

They realized it was only half a block to the entrance of the hotel. Instead of loading back up into the sleigh they thought it would be best to walk the rest of the way. They both thanked the driver as Sam paid the man, offering a substantial tip for all the extra things he did for them that day. He started to refuse, but Mr. Fielding would not take no for an answer and in fact tucked the money into the man’s pocket.

“Thank you very much, Mr. and Mrs. Fielding,” Mr. McCauley said as he started to drive his horse down the street. “It has been a great pleasure to have been of service to you today.” He tipped his hat as he continued on.

Sam put his arm around his wife as they walked along the sidewalk, the pile of shoveled snow between them and the street. She could feel a slight limp in his walk and realized the day was harder on him than he would let her know. They went on in silence until she finally asked, “Are you going to tell me why the blood bothered you so much? You have seen me tend to other wounds before and it didn’t seem to have the same effect on you.”

“I don’t know really,” he answered. “It seemed to bring back part of the memory trying to come back to me yesterday in the cathedral. It is like when you try to recall a dream but can’t quite recollect the whole thing. So far it’s just the deep rough cough and blood in a hand … nothing else comes at all. But it seems to be an unpleasant memory and I’m not sure I really want to get it back.”

“If it is something from what happened before, Sam, then it cannot hurt you, because we are long past it now. In fact, maybe answers to your unasked questions can be found somewhere.”