A Handful of Time

Praise for Kit Pearson

“Kit Pearson is a great talent in Canadian children's literature.”

—
The Guardian
(Charlottetown)

“One of Canada's best junior fiction writers.”

—
The Star Phoenix
(Saskatoon)

“Pearson is a strong writer whose work puts to shame most of the books that kids spend so much time reading these days.”

—
Ottawa Citizen

“Kit Pearson gives young readers a strong testament of the interlocking nature and power of reading, writing and living.”

—
The Vancouver Sun

“Another magical tale from the master.”

—
Toronto Star

“Dazzle. It's not the right word for what Kit Pearson manages to do … but it's close. Closer would be a word that catches the irregular glint of light reflected on water, street lights suspended in fog, an opalescent fracturing of time and genre to create something with its own unique glow.”

—
Edmonton Journal

“Through the vivid observation of two summers, Pearson weaves a summer out of time and weaves as well a spell over her readers.”

—
The Globe and Mail

“The very best in fiction for young adults. Kit Pearson does herself proud.”

—
The Windsor Star

“Kit Pearson's careful and exact research brings the period vividly before us.”

—
The London Free Press

“The woman is a brilliant writer.”

—
Kingston This Week

“Pearson superbly and gently captures the welter of emotions that beset a young teen who is experiencing the onset of adolescence and having to cope with its physical and emotional demands.”

—
CM

“This is a writer at the top of her craft.”

—
Quill & Quire

“Pearson's real strength … lies in her ability to convey the texture of a specific time and place…. So vividly and lovingly evoked that it is almost possible to smell the pine trees.”

—
Publishers Weekly

PUFFIN CANADA

A HANDFUL OF TIME

KIT PEARSON
was born in Edmonton and grew up there and in Vancouver. Her previous seven novels (six of which have been published by Penguin) have been published in Canada, in English and French, and in the United States, Australia, New Zealand, Japan, the Netherlands, Germany, Great Britain, China, and Korea. She has received fourteen awards for her writing, including the Vicky Metcalf Award for her body of work. She presently lives in Victoria.

Visit her website:
www.kitpearson.com
.

Also by Kit Pearson

The Daring Game

The Sky Is Falling

Looking at the Moon

The Lights Go On Again

Awake and Dreaming

This Land: An Anthology of Canadian Stories
for Young Readers
(as editor)

Whispers of War:
The War of 1812 Diary of Susanna Merritt

A Perfect Gentle Knight

A Handful of Time

KIT PEARSON

PUFFIN CANADA

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada
M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Canada Inc.)

Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A.
Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen's Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd)
Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia
(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)
Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi – 110 017, India
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, Auckland, New Zealand
(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

First published in Viking Kestrel by Penguin Group (Canada),
a division of Pearson Canada Inc., 1987
Published in Puffin Canada paperback by Penguin Group (Canada),
a division of Pearson Canada Inc., 1988
Published in this edition, 2007

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 (OPM)

Copyright © Kathleen Pearson, 1987

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

Publisher's note: This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Manufactured in the U.S.A.

ISBN-13: 978-0-14-305638-6
ISBN-10: 0-14-305638-7

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication data available upon request.

Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Visit the Penguin Group (Canada) website at
www.penguin.ca

Special and corporate bulk purchase rates available; please see
www.penguin.ca/corporatesales
or call 1-800-810-3104, ext. 477 or 474

In memory of my aunt

Mollie Mackenzie

 

“You might say,” Tom said slowly,… “You might say that different people have different times, although of course, they're really all bits of the same big Time.”

PHILLIPPA PEARCE

TOM'S MIDNIGHT GARDEN

1

P
atricia knew she had made a mistake as soon as she got the canoe into the water. The long, green boat had looked so solid on the beach, but once afloat, it seemed to come alive. Patricia had to wade after it quickly before it nosed away. At least she'd remembered to put in the paddle. She swung her leg over one tippy side and gave a sort of jump into its safe middle.

But it wasn't safe at all. The paddle kept sliding down in her hands. She couldn't duplicate her cousin Kelly's smooth strokes; hers were short and splashy and made the canoe travel in a jerky circle.

Patricia felt more and more hot and nervous as she realized she couldn't bring the boat back to shore. She dreaded having to call for help. Kelly would come running down the steps and make fun of her Eastern cousin for being so inept.

Just then a spurt of wind blew the canoe farther out. In desperation Patricia stood up and tried to pole her way in, but the paddle stuck in the lake bottom. Trying to hang onto it, she leaned forward as far as she could—and fell into the lake.

H
ALF AN HOUR LATER
she sat, changed but still shivering, on the edge of Kelly's bed. Her wet clothes lay in a sodden pile at her feet. She was afraid to open the door as she listened to the low voices coming from the other side of it.

“I'm telling you, Mum, this is the last straw! If Mr. Donaldson hadn't been there, the canoe would have drifted all the way down the lake. And she lost the paddle, too. I had to swim out and get it. She's hopeless!”

“Kelly!” Aunt Ginnie's voice was quiet but sharp. “I won't have you talking about Patricia like this. It wasn't her fault—she doesn't know about boats.”

“That's the whole point! Why did she do it, then?”

“Shush! She'll hear you. She probably wanted to prove herself. None of you has given her much of a welcome so far. Why wasn't she with you all at Uncle Rod's?”

“Oh, well …” Kelly paused. “She must have sneaked away or something,
I
don't know. But does she have to be with us every minute of the day?”

Through her misery Patricia felt a twinge of anger. Kelly was lying. She and her brother and sister had run off before Patricia could see where they were going.

“Kelly,” said Aunt Ginnie firmly, “I'm very disappointed in you. Patricia is our guest for two months. She isn't used to a lot of children, or to a cottage and a lake. You must be nice to her. Especially because …”

Don't tell her! prayed Patricia, digging her nails into her palms. Uncle Doug had promised not to.

“Because why?”

“Because she's my sister's only child and she's away from home and I want her to be happy here. So you and Trevor and the others have to help her feel at home. Especially you, because you're the oldest. Do you understand? If I hear you're neglecting her again, I'm going to be very angry.”

“Oh, all right,” Kelly said darkly.

Patricia sighed. If Aunt Ginnie got mad at Kelly, her cousin would just take it out all the more on her.

She had to open the door. They must be wondering what she was doing in there for so long. As she ventured into the living room the two figures turned quickly.

Aunt Ginnie smiled—a pleasant smile that dimpled her round cheeks. But as usual Patricia avoided looking too closely into the friendly face.

“There you are, Patricia dear. All dry? Not cold, I hope. At least no harm was done, and I have an idea. When you feel you're ready, how about Kelly giving you some lessons? Canoeing isn't hard to learn.” She put her arm around her niece, who didn't answer but looked nervously at Kelly.

“Let's go back to Uncle Rod's,” her cousin muttered. “They're all waiting for me.”

Patricia followed Kelly's angry back out of the cottage. The very worst thing she could imagine right now was being in that tippy canoe with Kelly.

2

O
nly the morning before, Patricia had been standing in the Toronto airport, trying to say goodbye to her mother. They stared at each other self-consciously.

Her mother kept checking her watch while she twitched at the skirt of her daughter's new dress. “Stand up straight, darling. You always look so bunchy. Now, try to control how much you eat this summer. Look at people when they talk to you and don't mumble. And have a wonderful time. Your—your father and I will miss you.” Then she smiled. “Who's going to cook for me? I'll have to go out for every meal! I'm sorry I can't wait to see you onto the plane, but I'm already late.”

Her briefcase poking into Patricia's side, she kissed her daughter briskly and hurried away.

The passenger agent standing beside Patricia—her name was Debra and she smelled of deodorant—beamed with approval. “Your mother's so attractive. Haven't I seen her somewhere before?”

“She's the host of ‘CBC Newswatch,'” mumbled Patricia.