The Changing Tide

By Laurie Davidson

The Changing Tide is the sequel to The Magic Land. The two older children, Katy and David, are absorbed in trying to establish their own lives without interference from their aunt. They are brought up short when Aunt Jo dies and Katy discovers she is pregnant. The full responsibility of looking after the familyincluding Mara, who is crippled from polio, Ethan and Elfrida the twins, and the baby, Sethfalls on David. He has to get them through the harsh northern winter and keep anyone from knowing that Katy is having an illegitimate child. As the children grow and change, so does the land around them when oil is discovered and the wilderness is invaded by seekers after the black gold.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Sep 30, 2011
• ISBN: 9781426995682

Laurie Davidson

Laurie Davidson grew up on a backwoods farm in Peace River Country in British Columbia, Canada. She began teaching when she was twenty and taught for forty-two years in both rural and urban schools. She was also as an exchange teacher for one year in in England and a principal of elementary and secondary schools in Canada. She is the mother of a son and two daughters.

Book preview

CHAPTER I

Sixteen is much too young to get married, Aunt Jo said decisively. There’s years yet before you want to be thinking of tying yourself down. There are so many places to go, things to see, things to do…

Exactly! Katy ran her fingers through her long, silky hair and spun on her tiptoes so that it swirled about her slim body in a golden cloud. That’s what will happen if I marry Ted. We’re going to travel… go places… do things… get away from this place…

She closed her eyes and whirled again, flinging her arms around herself in an ecstatic embrace.

Stop spinning, Aunt Jo ordered. You’ll make yourself sick.

Being happy won’t make me sick. Oh, life is so wonderful when you’re in love, Aunt Jo!

Her aunt regarded her pessimistically. What sort of ridiculous name is ‘Ted’ for a man, anyway? she grumbled. It sounds like a name for a stuffed toy.

A lovely name… since it’s his name. Katy laughed. "Oh, Aunt Jo, don’t spoil this. I’m young… in love… it’s spring—almost—and for once I want to stop worrying about being responsible, stop worrying about everybody else and just think about me… and Ted. He’s so wonderful, Aunt Jo. I know you’ll love him too, once you get to know him."

Hmph. When do I get to meet this wonder? It seems to me I should at least do that before you start talking about marrying him.

Oh, you will. We haven’t decided any dates or anything like that yet.

I should think not.

Aunt Jo, this isn’t just some kid stuff. Ted is in grade twelve… he’ll be going to university in the fall and he’s going to be a lawyer like his father. You probably know who his father is… John Graham. They own that really nice house in town. I just can’t believe that out of all the girls in school, he wants to marry me. Me!

Aren’t you forgetting a few things? Like Seth? He thinks you’re his mother, you know.

That was hitting below the belt.The radiance went out of Katy as abruptly as a candle flame is blown. She dropped off her tiptoes, gathered her hair and pulled it into a pony tail; fastening it with a rubber band, as if somehow it symbolized a return to things practical.

Yes, I know. she said dully. Seth…

Pity momentarily softened her aunt’s grim face as she watched the golden butterfly turn back into a caterpillar. Katy was being a little over-dramatic, of course, but still it was a shame. She did have too much responsibility, but getting married would just be a leap from the pan to the fire.

Child, I’m not asking you to give up your whole life to look after Seth. I don’t expect you to stay here forever, or even until they’re all grown. But you haven’t even finished school yet. You’re too young for marriage—it won’t give you freedom from responsibility, you know. Marriage will bring its own set of problems. If this boy loves you, he’ll wait for two years.

So what will change in two years? Katy’s voice was dreary. Seth will still be here—he’ll only be six—and Mara will still be crippled—nothing is going to change. You’ll still need me. I’ll go on making meals and scrubbing floors and washing clothes until I’m so old and ugly no one will want me.

No doubt. her aunt said dryly. Let’s not exaggerate… what will change in two years is that you will have your grade twelve and you’ll be able to do something with your life. I’m thinking about you, whether you believe it or not. You’ll regret it if you don’t finish your high school. She paused, trying to find the words to convince, but something unyielding in Katy’s face roused her exasperation. You’re too young to get married and that’s all there is to it. If you still want to marry this boy in two years, we’ll talk about it then.

Talk about it! Katy cried. "I know what that means! I’ll still be too young What difference will two years make? It’s not fair !"

Katy, that will do. You are not getting married at sixteen. The idea is utterly ridiculous.

You don’t understand! Katy burst into tears and whirled out of the room, almost knocking Mara over in the doorway.

"What’s with her?" Mara shuffled to regain her balance and then continued her slow walk across the kitchen in her walker. Polio, three years previously, had left her with both legs twisted, deformed and virtually useless, but she had learned to move around with the use of a walker, and was able to take care of herself as well as help out with the daily chores. She reached up now to get a cup from the kitchen cabinet, manoeuvered herself across the kitchen and balanced herself against her walker as she poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot kept warm at the back of the cookstove. The pot poised, she looked inquiringly at her aunt.

Want some? she asked.

No, and you shouldn’t be drinking it either at your age.

I’m almost thirteen!

Sure, you’re all grown up, the lot of you.

Oh, Aunt Jo! Mara said with exasperated affection. We’re a long way from being grown up. The twins are only eight… only eight! she repeated in wonder. That’s only a year younger than I was when we first came here… can you believe that, Aunt Jo? It seems funny to think of them being that old. Think of Baby Seth being almost four already!

And David is fifteen, and Katy is sixteen. Almost seventeen, she tells me.

Mara gave her aunt a quick glance. I suppose she’s been talking about wanting to get married.

Yes. her aunt got up from the breakfast table and went to stand looking out of the window at the meadow. She was, as usual, dressed in men’s jeans, a man’s sweater and a heavy plaid hunting jacket. The clothes hung shapelessly on her bony body, hard and unfeminine from years of doing the heavy farm work. Her grey hair usually brushed flat, stood out in clumps all over her head as if she had been running her fingers through it. Mara grinned a little, opening her mouth to ask what had happened to the hairbrush, but she closed it as she caught a glimpse of her aunt’s expression. She hated to see that queer hurt look on her aunt’s grim face.

Was she rude? Mara asked.

No… not really. But she thinks I want to keep her here to do the work, and that’s why I don’t want her to get married. It’s not that at all… oh, we’d miss her for sure, she’s run this house since you all came to live here, and I don’t deny these past few years would have been pretty tough without her… but we’d manage somehow. People usually do. She’s missing the point. I want her to finish school so that she will have something to fall back on. I don’t agree with girls not completing their education.

She’ll be sorry if she doesn’t finish, Mara agreed. She’ll wind up like Mom… saddled with kids before she realizes that she’d be happier if she was doing something else.

You actually think I’m right ? her aunt looked so astonished that Mara laughed.

Of course I agree! Education is important, and Katy always thought it was too, before she met this Ted. She’s been acting so dumb lately.

She’s in love.

Thinks she is. She’s only known Ted for a couple of months and she hasn’t even had a real date with him yet because she has to come home on the bus. She goes over to his house at noon hour sometimes.

To his house? Aunt Jo echoed sharply. Alone with him?

Oh, there’s always somebody there… his Mom or his younger brother. Geesh, Katie is silly the way she drools over him. She keeps telling me that I’m too young to know anything about being in love and to just wait and I’ll find out. She acts like she’s the only person in the world who knows anything.

I believe most older sisters are like that, Aunt Jo smiled. She’s right, you know. It will happen to you.

I doubt it. Mara said. She knew the moment she spoke that her aunt would take it the wrong way.

Of course it will happen to you! What boy won’t fall for your big eyes and your saucy little face? They’ll be falling all over themselves. Aunt Jo looked fierce, as if she would make sure that they did.

Mara smiled and shrugged. She knew it was no use to explain that being crippled had nothing to do with her indifference to boys and love and all that stuff that was so important to Katy, and apparently to Katy’s friends. If Katy was to be believed the girls thought boys, talked boys, dressed for boys, made eyes at boys and dreamed boys, ad naseum. Mara simply was not interested, and she doubted that she ever would be. She simply could not see herself getting so excited about a mere boy. The way Katy acted you’d think they were all some kind of gods. She said Mara didn’t know anything about it, and how could she when she had to stay at home all the time and never got to see anybody? But then she said that a lot of girls were ‘crazy’ about David, and as far as Mara was concerned that just proved her point. David was nice enough and he wasn’t ugly, but he was just a person. Nothing to get excited about. Nothing God—like.

But when she tried to explain how she felt, everyone thought she was covering up, pretending she didn’t care that she was crippled and no boy would ever want her. Mara thought that there were, after all, some compensations, if being crippled meant that she would not be pestered by boys. She could not make anyone, even Aunt Jo understand that she simply and genuinely did not want a boy in her life. She had more important things to do. She was going to be a great artist someday. People who dedicated their lives to art had no time for falling in love. She had read as many books about the lives of the great artists that she could get her hands on, and while she was inspired by their dedication to their art—especially Michelangelo—she was repulsed by what she thought of as their sordid affairs. But then they were only men. She was going to be one of the first great women artists, and she was not going to waste her time on stupid love affairs.

Would you like an egg and some toast? Aunt Jo broke into her thoughts. Mara looked up, startled. It was not like her aunt to offer to make breakfast. She always encouraged them all to wait on themselves and to be self reliant. Katy said most people worshipped God, but Aunt Jo worshipped self-reliance and hard work.

I can get it.

I know you can. her aunt said irritably. That’s not why I’m asking. Sometimes, Mara, you’re too independent.

I am? Mara asked, puzzled. Aunt Jo must be upset. O.K. I would like an egg—only make it two and just a piece of plain bread, please. Not toasted. And could I have some more coffee while you’re up?

Give them an inch and they take a mile, her aunt grumbled, but she put two eggs on to boil and poured Mara and herself more coffee.

How about some strawberries and waffles to go along with it? Mara grinned.

That you can take care of for yourself. Where are all the others? I know it’s Saturday, but that’s no excuse for everyone to loll around in bed until all hours of the day.

The little ones are out playing, Mara said. They were up ages ago and got Katy up to make them breakfast, and then they went off to play by the willow. It’s nice now that they can go outside again and quit making such a racket in the early mornings when I want to read. I miss my upstairs bedroom… it was so peaceful up there, but I guess I’m lucky that I can have a room downstairs so it’s easier for me and everyone else. She sighed and then added, David is the only one still in bed.

Hm. Well, I suppose he may as well indulge himself while he can. We’ll be on the fields in a couple of weeks and there won’t be any time for him to sleep in on weekends then.

Are you going to let him take time off school to help with the seeding?

Certainly not! He can’t afford the time… his marks have been pretty poor this year. He failed quite a few subjects last term.

Well, I think you’re right, but he doesn’t. He hates school… says it’s a waste of time. Funny how how things are… I think I’d like to go to school and can’t, and he can go and doesn’t want to.

I wish there was some way you could go, Aunt Jo put the boiled eggs in a bowl and set them in front of Mara along with several slices of bread. It’s not good for you and the twins to be staying home all the time. Next year they’ll likely be old enough to walk the two miles to catch the bus, but that won’t help you. If only they’d fix the road so the bus could come up to the gate. Getting you that far wouldn’t be much of a problem… and you’d be able to go to school, make some friends. Katy has been a lot happier since she started going. You’ve been stuck here ever since you came home from the hospital. It’s not right that you don’t have any social life.

I don’t want to go to school for the social life, Mara objected. I’d hate that part of it… everybody staring the way they used to when I went out in the wheelchair when I was in Vancouver. I’d just like to be in a class where we could discuss things, like poetry and history, you know, and share ideas.

Where’d you get the idea anybody does that in school? David stumbled in, bleary-eyed, his hair tousled. Nobody in school talks about things like that. They just make stupid jokes and brag about how they swiped the Old man’s beer or cigarettes or about how big their…

He stopped abruptly and Mara giggled at the expression on Aunt Jo’s face.

Watch your tongue, Young Man.

I didn’t say it, he protested.

No need to quote their vulgarities. I’m going to try to get the tractor running today, David. If there’s time, I’d like to go to town and see about getting a new breaking plough. I don’t want to borrow one, especially not from Mr. Harmon. His stuff is held together with binder twine and haywire, but the way he acts you’d think it was pure gold.

You have to stop every five seconds and fix it, David agreed with a grin. I think it would be swell to have our own plough. We’ll be able to get that twenty acres we cleared last year broke up in no time with a new plough. Maybe even get it seeded to hay this year.

Oats, Aunt Jo said.

Hay with a cover crop of oats.

Mara finished her breakfast and sat gazing dreamily out of the window. Farm talk bored her. She loved the place, but she did not like the actual farming, except for haying, and she liked that because of the way the hay smelled under the hot August sun and she liked being able to ride along in the truck and be a part of it all. David and Katy threw the bales up to Aunt Jo who stacked them on the back of the truck while the little children ran and whooped in the field. When Seth got tired, they’d put him in the cab with her for a nap. The only other outside things she could help with was picking peas and beans because she could sit to do that.

But harvesting was a long way off yet. It was April; the snow still lurked in the woods, and the meadow around the house was brown with last year’s dead growth rattling eerily in the bitter spring winds. Mara loved to sit in her favourite place on the verandah and feel the wind in her face in spite of the cold, but it made her sad too, because she would remember the days when she used to run in the wind—leaping and cavorting through the meadow like a deer. When you could run, you never thought about it, but when you couldn’t you thought about it all the time. Aunt Jo said she should try not to feel sorry for herself because self-pity was the most destructive thing there was, and if she gave in to it she would destroy her whole life. So she tried to resign herself and get pleasure from her studies, from her books borrowed from the Victoria circulating library, from her paintings and from the old willow tree. David had rigged up a pulley on it so that she could pull herself up to the great gnarled branch where she could sit and watch the meadows. Sometimes when he wasn’t too tired, he would take her down there at night when the moon was up so that she could watch for the wild things the way she had done before she got polio. He kept the path to the tree clear so that she could get the wheelchair there by herself. Whenever she would start to get depressed, she would make herself remember what it had been like in Vancouver during that horrible year when she had been sick, and the contrast would make her feel better right away. There she had dwelt in a twilit world of the invalid, peopled by nurses, doctors, and therapists, where the highlight of her day was the walk in the park in her wheelchair while everyone stared at the poor crippled girl. Here she was surrounded by the things she liked; she could help and be useful in lots of ways, and she could paint whenever she had a canvas to paint on. She did not ever want to leave this place again.

If only she could learn to paint well enough to sell some of her pictures, then there would be money for more paints and canvases. If she was ever going to be a great artist, she needed more practice. But money was always scarce and what there was usually had to go for seed or farm equipment or clothes for all of them. Their mother had gone to Vancouver after their father left them four years ago, saying that she would get a good job and send for them. Instead she had gotten married again. Once in a while she sent them some money and she always sent them birthday and Christmas cards… and money to buy presents. No one had heard from their father, since his one visit home when Mara had gotten sick with polio. He did not send money or cards. As far as Mara was concerned he had ceased to exist.

Yoo—hoo, Dreamer. Where’s Katy? David leaned across the table and snapped his fingers in her face. She jumped.

Quit that!

You were a thousand miles away.

There’s no law against thinking, is there? Mara eyed the plate of fried eggs, fried bread and refried potatoes that he had prepared for himself. I don’t know how you stay so skinny, eating all that fried stuff.

It’s good for you. David reached for the ketchup.

You’ll get pimples.

I doubt it. Where’d you say Katy is?

In her room bawling because Aunt Jo says she can’t marry that dumb Ted. I wonder if he makes his own breakfast?

David paused his eating to stare at her. What’s that got to do with anything? And Ted isn’t dumb. He’s the top student in grade twelve, except for his English. I heard somebody say he’s not too good at that, but he’s really smart in Math.

Katy thinks if she marries him she won’t have to work as hard as she does around here. She thinks she’ll have fun. But I doubt if he’ll make his own breakfast and lunch the way we all do. The only meal she actually gets is supper and I help her with that. She’ll have to cook three meals a day if she gets married.

That shows how much you know about anything! Katy stormed into the kitchen. Everybody gets their own meals! Sure they do! And who cleans up the mess they leave, I’d like to know? I do, that’s who! I spend most of the day cleaning up after all of you.

I help and so do the twins.

It’s more work getting them to help than it is to do it myself. And there’s a lot of difference between cooking and cleaning for one person because you want to, and doing it for six people because you have to, Miss—Know—it—All!

Cheer up. It won’t take long to get another six, David grinned, pretending to duck as Katy rounded on him.

"I’m not having children," she informed him coldly.

"Oh? Seems to me it happens when you get married. Course maybe Teddy boy isn’t into… sex." He whispered the last word, peering around in an exaggerated way to see if anyone was listening. Maybe you’ll have a pure relationship.

David, you stop being so disgusting. And stop talking like that in front of Mara.

Why, what did I say? he protested. What should I stop talking about in front of Mara?

You know quite well.

"You mean sex? "

David !

You’re the one want to get married. David wiped his plate with a slice of bread. If you don’t want sex, you better stay single.

I’m not going to discuss this any more. Katy looked at her brother in disgust. You’re a pig.

I suppose Teddy boy never wipes his plate with bread.

I should think not. And quit calling him Teddy boy.

Anything to oblige. David reached for the rest of the bread Aunt Jo had left for Mara and spread it liberally with jam. Geesh, Katy, if you get married, who’s gonna make us jam? What do you want to get married for anyway?

Katy began to fill the dishpan with hot water from the reservoir. For your information, I’m going to marry Ted because I love him, and because being married to him will be fun. We’ll go places… like Vancouver… and we’ll go to shows and dances and go out for supper…

How do you know?

Because he said so. I’m sick of living the way we do, stuck out here never having any fun. All we ever do is work. Don’t tell me you like coming right home from school every day of your life to do endless chores and then do homework and then go to bed, so you can do it all over again the next day.

The only part I don’t like is going to school, and homework. I like working on the farm.

You should see the way Ted lives, she went on, without listening. His parents have a beautiful home—you should see their furniture! They always have lots of time to go to parties and have fun. You know we never have any fun, David.

Ted’s a city slicker, David said scornfully. We don’t live any differently than any other farm kids, except for not having Mom or Dad living with us. The other farm kids all go home every night on the bus too, and do chores same as we do.

Well, I hate being a farm kid! I hate walking two miles to catch the bus… freezing in the winter and getting covered with mud in the summer. I hate that bus! Ugh! It stinks of manure. Half those stupid boys wear the same boots to school that they wear out to the barn. I hate making bread and jam and spending my life scrubbing and cleaning. Ted’s mother doesn’t do all those things.

You’ll be marrying Ted, not his parents, Mara interjected. He won’t have money to get all the conveniences that his parents have.

His parents give him money. They’re going to send him to school. He’s going to be a lawyer, and he’ll be rich.

Well, hot damn, David took his dirty dishes and slid them into the dishpan. Maybe you ‘ll be able to lend us some money to buy another section of land so we can be rich farmers and you won’t have to be ashamed to come and visit us.

Don’t be stupid. David, you wash those! Why should I wash your dirty dishes?

I’ll wash them if you go help Aunt Jo with the tractor.

No, thank you!

David shrugged, winked at Mara and left. She watched him through the window, bounding across the meadow and for a moment she was filled with an intense sadness and longing. If she lived for a hundred years, she would never run like that again…

Are you going to sit there all morning, or are you going to help with these dishes? Katy snatched the rest of the dishes off the table. Look at that… everyone just goes off and leaves the mess for me to clean up.

I’ll dry, Mara said in a tone of weary resignation.

Don’t do me any favours!

Katy, stop it. I said, I’ll dry. And then I’ll make some more cookies, if it’s O.K. with you. The jar is almost empty.

I have to make bread. Katy snapped.

Well, you work at the cabinet and I’ll work at the table. Mara looked at her sister in exasperation. The way she was acting, they’d be better off if she did go and get married. It was no fun living with such a grouch.

Just as the last dish was dried, the twins came running in, banging the door behind them, demanding drinks. In the distance Seth was wailing, Wait for meeee…

Did you run off and leave him again? Katy shouted. Damn it, Elfrida, I could slap you…

She wiped her hands on her apron and ran out.

She swore! Elfrida’s round blue eyes grew rounder with righteous indignation.

‘Damn’ isn’t really swearing, Mara said. Anyway, you know you shouldn’t run off and leave Seth. He’s just little and you should look after him.

"Why is everybody picking on me?" Elfrida protested, aggrieved. Why can’t Ethan look after him sometimes?

Mara shrugged. She took out three glasses from the cabinet and got a pitcher of Koolaid from the propane fridge. The fridge was a luxury. Aunt Jo had bought it with some of the money that the children’s mother sent them from time to time.

Whenever she happens to remember she’s got kids, Katy had said once. Mara would never forget the way she had sounded that day—so horribly bitter and hurt. Aunt Jo had gone to her and just for a second Katy had let her aunt hug her. But then she pulled away. It seemed to Mara that Katy did not want to get close to Aunt Jo… she didn’t want Aunt Jo to take her mother’s place—in the face of all evidence, she still kept believing that her mother would come back or send for them, but Mara knew that would never happen.

CHAPTER II

The children, all six of them, had come to live here when Seth was a baby. The farm belonged to Aunt Jo, their mother’s sister, and she farmed it by herself, a fairly unusual thing for a woman to do in the forties and fifties, especially in the Peace River Country, the home of the male chauvinists. The farm was located on a dirt road, two and a half miles from the Alaska Highway, and close to no one. Their nearest and only neighbours were the Harmons, an oddly assorted pair. Mr. Harmon was a little man with big ears and a fringe of white hair, whose greatest joy in life was getting some old piece