Part II Elsa
Chapter I
Walking aboard the C.P.R. Ferry from the downtown Vancouver wharf, Elsa clutched her battered old cardboard suitcase tightly. She had the beginnings of a hard lump in the pit of her stomach. Waving at Katrin, she leaned on the railing of the outer deck, letting the icy wind whip at her hair. As the vessel moved further out into the water, she watched the deep troughs of waves following behind as it made a wide arc, gradually leaving the wharf, and Katrin, far behind. She might have been crossing the ocean back to Scotland, so lonely did she feel.
Seagulls screeched overhead, occasionally landing on the railing nearby. Wrapping her coat more tightly around her body for warmth, she remain on the deck, not wanting to go into the interior of the crowded ship. She preferred instead to be alone with her misery.
Her parting from Katrin had been difficult with each girl promising to write every day. Elsa and Elizabeth had parted with hugs and promises of letters but Elsa knew that Elizabeth, with her active social life, would have little time for writing.
Her father had made no comment when she had told him about the job she had secured for herself and had barely acknowledged her farewell. Hrr mother had awkwardly kissed her eldest daughter on the cheek and Elsa had smiled wryly when she realized it was the first kiss she ever remembered receiving from her mother. Even Katrin's parents' farewell had been more affectionate than her own family's had been when they had said goodbye. This fact had not bothered Elsa and nor was it a surprise.
She was to be met at the Ferry in Nanaimo and then would be driving to the inland logging camp further up the island. Mrs. Clarkson, the lady she would be working for, had said that it was a two hour drive from the Ferry and to be prepared for the rough ride.
"For the most part," she had said, "the logging roads are barely cleared enough for the logging trucks that travel back and forth constantly. I only go when I have to and now with another baby coming, it's not worth the trip."
Elsa had never travelled to Vancouver Island before and in spite of the biting cold and her extreme nervousness about the task before her, she discovered that she was beginning to enjoy the ferry ride. She was to be responsible for the care of three small children, as well as household duties. The care of a small baby would be exciting too, she expected.
"The meals will not be your responsibility," Mrs. Clarkson had written, "but all of the other duties of running the household will be expected. My husband is very particular about his meals so I will be preparing them myself." Her duties did not overly concern Elsa because she was used to work but she wondered what her employers would be like.
Would Mrs. Clarkson be a difficult mistress? And Mr. Clarkson? Would he be friendly? Maybe even too friendly? Elsa was particularly shy and uncomfortable around men and for that reason was more concerned aout her meeting with Mr. Clarkson than she was about meeting his wife. As the ferry ploughed its way through the water to Nanaimo, Elsa had many questions running through her head.
After the Ferry had docked, she walked out to the passenger loading area and saw a bright red pick-up truck with 'Anmore Logging Inc,' stencilled onto the side in bold black lettering. A man of perhaps fifty stood beside the truck, a haze of purple smoke circling his head. He had black curly hair, streaked with gray and what appeared to be a two or three day gtowth of whiskers on his weathered face. His eyes were alert and intelligent as he watched a group of small children playing, a paternal and good-natured smile hovering on his lips. Elsa walked timidly towards him. "Mar. Morrison?"
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
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