The Badger Riot (15 page)

Because she wouldn't say she was sorry, the priest wouldn't give her absolution. Jennie stormed out of the Basilica. And that was that.

In October, she got a telegram from Mam that said the twins were sick. A boy and a girl, thirteen years old, Jennie's youngest siblings, were struck down with polio. The disease was raging throughout Newfoundland. Some years they would delay the opening of the schools, trying to keep the disease from spreading. A few years later, children were given the Salk vaccine, but by then it was too late for the twins. By the time Jennie got the train back to Badger, they were dead and buried. Doctor said that polio could progress to meningitis in some extreme cases, and that was what had happened with the twins.

Oh God, God in Heaven! Jennie's parents were beside themselves. She took over running the household and looking after everyone. Mam spent most of her time sitting in the rocking chair, looking through the window and crying. Poor Mam.

Although life as a Mi'kmaq was hard, Ralph was not entirely without friends among the white population of Badger. Some people welcomed him into their homes and their lives. Alf Elliott, the telegraph operator, often invited him to his house in the evenings. They'd play accordions together, with Ralph being the teacher. Another evening it was the harmonica. There was no instrument that Ralph couldn't play. He was a sought-after entertainer for weddings, dances and wakes. For dances in the town hall, the accordion was a must for stomp-'er-down music and the fiddle for step dances. The weddings wanted some of that, plus the guitar, but for wakes Ralph used only his fiddle.

Sometimes the groom paid him five dollars for his music; sometimes the people who organized the dance in the town hall paid him a little; sometimes a relative of the bereaved slipped him a couple dollars. Ralph considered this smoke money. Mostly, he played for free. He was never asked by the A.N.D. Company executives, the higher-ups, but that didn't bother him.

Rod Anderson's daughter Audrey had married a fellow from St. John's, a cop. They visited Badger a few times and, through Rod, Ralph came to know the young man's father. He was a police sergeant, and he could certainly play the fiddle. Ralph and he got together a few times and sawed out some sweet tunes.

Constable Richard Fagan had met Audrey Anderson at the Lieutenant-Governor's garden party. He was in his dress uniform and was standing at attention by the entrance to Government House. One of the constabulary always stood there as a formality during the garden parties, staring straight ahead and standing at attention as if he were guarding Buckingham Palace. Those chosen hated the job in the heat of the summer as they stewed in their wool uniforms.

The summer sun was blazing down on the young constable's white helmet, sweat was running over his brow, and his feet were hurting. And he was not in a good mood. The Lieutenant-Governor, Sir Leonard Outerbridge, and Lady Outerbridge were doing a walk-about. Ladies in fancy hats and men in pinstriped trousers and spats were bowing and scraping. The Church Lads Brigade Band was playing the
Ode to Newfoundland
in the background.

“Excuse me, sir,” said a timid voice near his elbow. “Lady Outerbridge's cat has escaped and is over in the garden of the American Consul. Can you help me?”

Richard slowly looked around. “I cannot leave my post, miss.”
Lady Outerbridge's cat?
he thought, trying to maintain a stern face.
Do I look like a cat catcher?

“Oh please, please. I know she'll be upset if she loses the cat. I was supposed to be watching her, but I was helping the other maids cut the sandwiches for tea, and someone left the door open and – she was gone.” Richard looked at her more closely and saw that her eyes were a deep blue and her glossy brown hair was pinned up under her white cap. She was dressed in uniform, black dress with a white apron cinching her narrow waist.

She certainly was a pretty girl, and Richard softened somewhat. “All right, let's hurry then. Just so you know, I can get in trouble too.”

There was a gate to the back garden of the American Consul and they slipped inside. The darned cat was up in a tree. Preparing to climb, Richard took off his helmet and started to unbutton his blue uniform jacket, but the maid was up that tree before he had the first button undone.
Good God,
he thought,
look at her climb
.

Getting down, carrying a reluctant cat wasn't as easy. Audrey's foot slipped and she started to fall, but Richard caught her in his arms. He stood there for a moment, holding this maid and this vice-regal cat in his arms, unsure of what to do next.

Then he set Audrey on her feet. “Look here, miss,” he said, “if you can climb that well, why did you need me?”

She laughed. “I knew I could climb up there, but I also knew I'd need help coming down holding the cat. I actually had a mind to toss the cat to you, but my foot slipped before I could get the chance.”

Merciful God! She had planned to throw me the cat!
Richard wasn't particularly fond of cats.

“Hmmph. Well, you're down now – you and the cat.” Richard was grumpy, but intrigued by the girl with the nice laugh. “By the way, where did you learn to climb like that? You're as good as the cat.”

Again she laughed that merry laugh. “Where I come from there are lots and lots of trees. Many of them are higher than that one.”

“Where's that?”

“I'm from Badger. Bet you don't know where that is.

” “No, I'm not sure. Somewhere out near Grand Falls, I think, or maybe Corner Brook.”

The other policeman on duty called to him and Richard had to go. He held out his hand, suddenly reluctant to leave her. “I'm Richard Fagan. Nice to meet you.”

She laughed and shook hands. “A funny way to meet, wouldn't you say? I am Audrey Anderson.”

Richard hurried back across the lawn to his post. “Who you talking to, Dickie?” asked his partner, Bob Parsons.

“That was a nice young woman who wanted me to rescue the Lady's cat. And don't call me Dickie.”

Bob paid him no heed. Some of his fellow officers who had known him since he was a boy called him Dickie. Richard hated the nickname. It brought back reminders of another life and another set of circumstances, long ago. So long ago that Richard could almost forget it.

Later that evening he got out a map of Newfoundland and looked for Badger in what was referred to as Central Newfoundland, but strictly speaking, it wasn't. The centre of the island was wilderness. Badger was actually centred midway on the railway line that went across the island. He could see it there, next to Grand Falls. Not many people of his acquaintance had been out as far as Grand Falls, except for a few guys who had gone there to play hockey at times, but none of them had reason to go to Badger.

Richard thought about Audrey off and on for the rest of the summer and fall, wondering how he'd get to meet her again. He could hardly march up to the door of Government House and ask for her.

Just before Christmas, Richard's mother said to him, “Would you come downtown with me today? I'd appreciate your help in buying Papa's Christmas present.”

“Sure thing, Mama. And maybe while we're there I can pick up my gift for you. I saw some nice strings of pearls in Bowrings. Since you burst yours last year, I dare say you'd like a new strand.”

They put on their coats and got aboard Papa's old Studebaker. “Now Mama, I'm all yours. You just tell me where you want to go.”

“O'Brien's Music Store at 278 Water Street is supposed to be the best place, according to an ad in the
Daily News
. Let's try there.”

Richard drove down New Cove Road, Kings Bridge Road and down over the Hill o' Chips to Water Street. “You haven't said what you're buying for Papa, but I suspect it's a fiddle. Am I right?”

His mother laughed. “Yes, that's it. The one he has doesn't have the right sound, he says. He picked near Christmastime to complain, hoping, I'm sure, that I'd get a new one to put under the tree.”

Warm air flooded around them when they opened the door to O'Brien's. It felt good after the wind outside. There weren't many people in the small store, and Mama went looking at the fiddles while Richard waited for the clerk to finish ringing up a sale. Idly,
he noticed the back of the woman at the counter. It was a nice, trim-looking back in a red coat. For no reason, Audrey flashed across his mind again, as she often did. Then the customer turned and it was her! For a minute they were face to face, speechless. Did she remember him?

“Audrey?”

“Why, its Richard, isn't it? Fancy meeting you after all this time.” She was laughing. Richard could see that he hadn't imagined those eyes, that hair, that laugh. They were real.

The clerk hovered and Richard pointed to Mama. “See that lady over there by the fiddles? She's interested in buying one. Please tell her I'll be along in a moment.”

When it was just the two of them, they both started to speak at the same time.

“I wondered about . . .”

“Are you still . . . ?”

“You first.”

“Are you still at Government House? I've thought of you many times and . . . and wondered how Lady Outerbridge's cat is. I was tempted to call and inquire – about the cat, I mean.”

“No, I'm not at Government House now. The cat is fine, I think.” She laughed. “That was only a part-time job while I went to summer school. I've got my teaching certificate now, and I'm going back home to teach. I'm here to buy my dad a harmonica for Christmas.” She held up her package.

Richard didn't know what to say.
Oh no, I just found her again and now she's leaving St. John's.

Mama bustled over with the clerk in tow. “Dickie,” she said.
Not Dickie.
Richard cringed inside. “I need a bit of help with the fiddle.”

She looked quizzically at Audrey.

“Mama, this is Audrey Anderson.” He didn't even know if he should call her a friend or what to call her.

Audrey held out her hand. “I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Fagan.”

“It's Mrs. Abernathy, dear. Uh . . . Richard kept his family name when my husband and I took him in.”

“Oh, I didn't know.” Audrey looked confused.

“I'm buying a fiddle for my husband. The two of you should come over, as I would like your opinion.”

The next morning, the look of surprise on Audrey's face when she saw him in the waiting room at the train station was worth his early rise. He liked to think she was pleased too. Or perhaps she wasn't. A man never knew where he stood with a woman.

As people were going out to board, he picked up her suitcase. “Audrey, I'd like for us to keep in touch. Do you think we might write to each other?”

“That'd be lovely, Richard. All you have to put on the envelope is Audrey Anderson, Badger.”

“No street address?”

“Not necessary. Everyone knows me.”

“How many people live there?”