I made the attempt but every swallow I forced down pushed its way back up. Tears came to my eyes and I finally begged, “Could I please be excused?”
The nun responded in exasperation, “You will stay right there until you are finished. Do you understand?”
To my horror, I threw up just then. Instead of getting heck, though, I was taken to the infirmary room. I was bathed and put to bed and by then I was feverish. When I slept, I dreamt I was somewhere near home but I couldn't find our house. I was very hot and I walked and walked but our house was no longer where it should have been. I woke up and called for Mom and Dad.
The next time I went to sleep, I dreamt my parents were on the other side of a large bottomless hole and I had to edge my way slowly and carefully around the hole to get over to them. But when I got there, they were back over where I started from. At last, I dreamt that I was finally running towards them and there was nothing around that could stop me. They even had Cheryl with them. I felt such relief, such happiness! Just as I was about to jump into their outstretched arms, I glanced up at their faces again. The faces had changed. They weren't my parents. They were the two social workers who had taken us away in the first place. Meanwhile, my temperature was rising and the nurse decided I'd better be taken to the hospital.
My dreams continued in the hospital. I was always on the verge of reuniting with my parents but that was always thwarted by something beyond my control. I guess I was also delirious because I began seeing this huge, white, doughy thing, kind of like a dumpling, and it would come at me, closer and closer. It would stop just in front of me, go further away, and come in closer and closer again. I felt that if it ever touched me it would engulf me and that would be the end of me. Sometimes, its huge bulk would whizz around, back and forth in front of me. I was always scared it would bang into me but I couldn't duck it or anything. It didn't matter if my eyes were open or closed. I remained in the hospital for about a week before the fever broke and the dreams became less intense.
I was glad to get back to the orphanage because I was looking forward to seeing Cheryl. I had a new social worker named Mrs. Semple. She told me she would find a home for Cheryl and me together. Maybe she said she would try but I didn't understand that. When I found Cheryl was no longer at the orphanage, I thought she had already gone to our new home. I wondered how come I wasn't sent there too. But the day soon arrived when Mrs. Semple came for me. I was really excited but I pretended nonchalance. I figured if they knew how much I wanted to move with Cheryl, they might take me to another place or else leave me at the orphanage. So Mrs. Semple was now taking me to the Dion family.
When we arrived, I jumped out of the car, looking for Cheryl and wondering why she wasn't outside waiting for me. The front door was opened to us by a pleasant-looking lady.
I walked in, looked around and asked, “Where's Cheryl?”
Mrs. Semple realized then that I had misunderstood her and she tried her best to explain to me but I wouldn't hear her. She assured me, “Don't worry about Cheryl. She'll be well taken care of in her new home.”
“But I can take care of Cheryl,” I said indignantly. “I want my sister.”
“April, you'll be going to school now. So, don't make a fuss.” Mrs. Semple had a hint of impatience in her voice.
“Why don't you come into the kitchen, April? I've got some milk and cookies waiting for you,” Mrs. Dion, my new foster mother, spoke up. For some reason she reminded me of my mother. Obediently, I followed her and sat at the table. The two women went back into the living room, leaving me alone. My eyes were stinging as I took a bite of an oatmeal cookie. The tears spilled over and rolled down my cheeks. This was all too confusing for me. How come all this was happening?
The Dions lived on the outskirts of a small French Catholic town, not far from the Red River, south of Winnipeg. It was September 9, 1955, when I moved there and the three Dion children were into their fourth day at school. Usually, they came home for lunch but on this day, it had been raining quite heavily and they had been allowed to take their lunches to school. It was mid-morning when I arrived and I spent most of that day moping around the house, fretting over Cheryl.
In the afternoon, Mrs. Dion turned the television set on for me. I'd never seen one before and I sat in front of it transfixed. I was still sitting there when the Dion children came home. The oldest was Guy who was twelve. Then there was Nicole, whose room I would be sharing. She was ten and the youngest was seven-year-old Pierre. They were all friendly and polite and only Pierre asked about my hair which was still ridiculously short. Of course, I was very shy and I couldn't look them in the eye. They reminded me of the rich white kids in the park, so I was amazed at their friendliness.
I had come on Friday. So the next day, I got up at eight with everybody else, had breakfast, then waited for Nicole to finish her Saturday chores. Meanwhile, Guy swept out the garage, washed the car, and collected all the garbage. When they were finished, we all went to the vegetable garden to do some weeding. Pierre and I carried the boxes of weeds over to a pile which was to be burned. We stopped for lunch which Mrs. Dion brought outside for us. When we finished, some other kids came over and we all played dodge ball. By the end of that day, I had forgotten how lonely I was.
The next day, when we got up, Mrs. Dion gave me a pretty dress from Nicole's closet and told me there were more clothes that were too small for Nicole. I was very happy. I thought now I was rich, too, just like those other white kids.
We went to Mass that morning. I didn't like it. I was fidgety from having to stay still for so long. But after Mass, we had a big Sunday dinner. When the dishes were done, we all piled into the car to go on one of Mr. Dion's excursions to find plants to bring back to his gardens. On these trips, Mr. Dion would tell us about the trees and the plants and the wildlife that lived in the forests. Of course, I didn't learn much on that first trip. I was excited about the venture and explored things by myself.
Monday was my first day of school. Mrs. Dion came with me that day while the others rode on their bikes. I was scared and excited at the same time. When I was introduced to the rest of the class, I was so shy, I couldn't look at any of the other children. All I knew was that there must have been at least a hundred kids in that classroom. By the end of that first week, a few of the girls decided that I was to be their friend and nobody else's. At recess times, I skipped rope with them, played hopscotch and other such games. Although I found my new friends bossy, even haughty, I was grateful to be one of them.
I learned that I had been baptized a Roman Catholic when I was a baby. Therefore, I had to study catechism to prepare for my First Communion in the springtime. We had catechism classes every day at school. Every evening, I was obliged to learn my prayers in French, so when they were said at Church, I would be able to say them, too. I memorized all the Acts, and there were a lot of them; the Act of Love, the Act of Charity, the Act of Faith, the Act of Penance. I was allowed to learn the prayer for the confession in English because later I would be telling the priest my sins in English. I also learned the answers to all the questions in my manual and there were a lot of things in it which puzzled me. My parents had done a lot of mortal sins because we had never gone to Mass on Sundays. That meant they were going to hell. I didn't think that I wanted to go to heaven so much, after all. Another thing was that the Church was infallible, never to be questioned. Yet, I couldn't help it, nor could I ask anyone else about it or they would know that I, April Raintree, had sinned!
By October, all the vegetables and crab apples had been canned and Mr. Dion had made his last trips to get transplants for the gardens. I had settled in at school very nicely. And I now felt this home could be as safe and secure as the tiny one on Jarvis Avenue. Sometimes, when it was windy, cold and grey outside, I even enjoyed the cozy feeling of being with this family, but at the same time longing to be with my own.
Back then, there were a lot of good shows on television. They made one yearn for adventure. And also for pets just like the ones on T.V. First, there was Tornado, Zorro's black stallion. Then there was Rin Tin Tin, a big German shepherd, and, of course, Lassie. I wanted them all. When I grew up, I would have German shepherds and collies, black stallions and white stallions and what the heck, palomino stallions too! I whittled down the long church hours into enjoyable daydreams of the future.
By November, my hair had grown long enough that the other children in school who had teased me, stopped. Mrs. Dion told me I could grow it long if I wanted to. But even better than that, she told me that I would be going to visit Cheryl and my parents at the Children's Aid office. I circled the date on the calendar, then waited with impatience and excitement. When the day finally came and Mrs. Semple came to pick me up, I suddenly remembered those horrible dreams. I was very quiet on the trip to Winnipeg. What if something happened? What if Mom and Dad got too sick and couldn't come? What if Cheryl couldn't come?
“Why the glum face, April? Aren't you glad you'll be seeing your parents and sister again?” Mrs. Semple asked me.
“Oh yes!” I almost shouted, fearful that Mrs. Semple would turn the car around and it would end up being me who didn't make it.
I was the first one there and I was taken to one of the small sitting rooms down the hall. Mrs. Semple showed me some books and toys with which I could occupy myself while I waited. Then she left, shutting the door behind her. I chose to sit on the edge of the chair and stared real hard at the closed door, wishing with all my might that the next time it opened, there would be Dad, Mom and Cheryl. I could see movements going back and forth through the thick-frosted windows. What if they all went to the wrong room? Maybe I should wait in the front waiting room. Better yet, maybe I should wait downstairs at the front entrance. I settled for opening the door a crack so I could see. When I saw figures approaching, I shut the door quickly and went back to the chair. The door opened and in walked Cheryl, followed by her worker, Miss Turner. When Cheryl saw me, her face lit up and she screamed, “Apple! Apple!”
I was just as happy to see her and for a moment, I forgot my fears that Mom and Dad might not make it.
“Hi Cheryl. I got a present for you. Mrs. Dion gave it to me to give to you.” I presented the gift to her and she tore off all the wrapping and held up a black and white teddy bear.
“Has he got a name, Apple?”
I nodded and said, “Andy Pandy. Do you like that name?”
“Uh-huh. I like Andy Pandy. I don't got a present for you Apple. But you could have this.” Cheryl put her hand in her pocket and pulled it out, her chubby little fist clutching something. She opened up her hand and offered me a brass button which had obviously come off her coat.
Miss Turner and I both laughed. Then I said, “It's not my birthday, Cheryl. Don't you remember having a cake for your birthday?”
“I had lots of cakes,” Cheryl answered, moving the arms of Andy Pandy.
“Why don't you girls take off your coats. I'll be back as soon as your mother and father come,” Miss Turner said.
I helped Cheryl take her coat off, then took my own off. While I asked Cheryl questions, I kept my eyes on the door.
“What's your new home like? Mrs. Semple told me you live with the MacAdams. Are they nice?”
“Oh, yes. We have lots of good things to eat. There's lots of other boys and girls there. And I got my own bed. At night, Mrs. MacAdams reads us stories. But no one reads good stories like you, Apple. Cindy always reads the same story. You used to read me lots of different stories, remember?”
“I remember. I'm going to school now and I'm learning to read and print for real. Pretty soon, I'm going to have my First Communion. Right now I have to learn a lot of prayers in French.”
“What's French?”
“French is, well, it's not English. We talk in English. And the Dions talk in English too but they probably think in French. Do you go to Mass on Sundays, Cheryl?”
“Yes. I don't like going to Mass, Apple. We got to behave and not play. Mrs. MacAdams said so. Cindy was bad in church so Mrs. MacAdams made her sit in a corner and she couldn't have dessert. But I sneaked her some cake to eat when she was sitting there.”
I was laughing when the door opened again and this time Mom and Dad entered. I was into my mother's arms while Dad picked Cheryl up and twirled her around the room. Then I noticed the tears in Mom's eyes.
“Oh, did I hurt you, Mom?” I remembered that she was sick.
“No April, I'm just so happy to see you again.”
“See the snack we brought you?” Dad said, after he had hugged me. We looked in the bag and there were some doughnuts, milk and candies.
“See what Apple got me?” Cheryl said, holding up her teddy bear. “His name is Andy Pandy. He's going to be my friend now, right Apple?” I nodded.
“So you're five years old. Happy Birthday, Cheryl. My baby girl is growing up fast. And we brought you a present too,” Dad said to her. He nudged Mom who opened her purse and brought out a tiny leather purse with beadwork on it. Cheryl was delighted. Then she asked, “Could we come home now?”
We all became suddenly silent and I looked at each one of them, hopefully. But Mom said very softly, “I'm sorry my babies, but we can't take you back yet. Soon maybe.”
To change the subject, Dad said to me, “So, April you're in Grade One now, eh? How do you like your school?”
I realized he wasn't all that interested but I told him anyways. I didn't tell him how much I liked the Dions and I liked living there because I felt that would hurt their feelings. Besides, going back home with them was my first choice. We had our snack and talked some more. Cheryl talked the most because she liked to talk. Too soon, though, Cheryl's worker returned to say it was time to leave. As I was getting my coat on, I felt total despair. I didn't want to leave Mom and Dad and Cheryl again. I kissed and hugged my Mom, then my Dad.