Fever Season (15 page)

The Canadiens came out fast again to start the third period. Just two minutes in, Malone set up Cleghorn for a goal. Toronto got that one back quickly, but then Hall scored three minutes later. Toronto got another one late in the period, but then with two minutes to go a Toronto defenceman slashed Cleghorn. He was sent to the penalty box, and Toronto had to finish the game one player short. The Canadiens didn't score with their man advantage, but they still wound up with a 6–3 victory.

The crowd was excited as the people spilled onto Saint Catherine Street. There were lots of people strolling back to their homes around the neighbourhood while David and J-P made their way back to his sister's. It was only a little after ten when they returned to the house, but Marie and Maurice were already in bed. J-P explained that they'd be up early in the morning to go to church.

Marie had made up a bed in the spare room and had left some blankets on a sofa in the parlour. “You take da bedroom,” J-P said. “I'll sleep out here.”

It had been an exciting evening, and it took David quite a while to fall asleep. Some time later, in the middle night, he was awakened by a terrible sound.

David's eyes shot open. At first he had no idea where he was. Then he remembered. But everything was suddenly so silent that he wondered if he'd really heard anything. Then it came again — a high-pitched scream from the front of the house. Then someone was shouting. It was J-P.

“Jacques! Jacques! Que s'est-il passé
?
Où est mon frère?”

Then there was another scream.

David heard Marie rush out of her room. She woke her brother and was able to calm him down. He was silent for the rest of the night, but David had a hard time getting back to sleep.

David would never have said anything about it, but J-P brought up his nightmare toward the end of their long streetcar ride back to the Home on Sunday morning.

“Sometimes I have bad dreams about da war. Hope I didn't scare you or anything.”

He had, but David didn't think it would be right to say so. “Sometimes I have dreams about my family, too.”

David's dreams weren't really nightmares, but they were always sad. At first it seemed as if everything was okay, but then something always happened in the dream to make David realize his family had all died and he was alone.

“It was fun last night, though, wasn't it?” J-P asked.

“Yeah. It was a great game.”

“But I'll have to ask Mrs. Wolfe to fix my coat.” J-P held up his arm to show the damaged sleeve.

In all the excitement of the evening, David had forgotten about the rip in J-P's coat. “I can fix that for you.”

“Yeah?” J-P didn't look as if he believed it.

“I can … if you want me to.”

When they got back to the Home, David went up to the boys' dormitory and carefully got the sewing kit out from under his mattress. He took it down to meet J-P in the pantry. He also brought the picture of his Uncle Danny to show him.

“Boy, same eyes,” J-P said. “Same hair. He look just like you.”

“I know.”

“What's his name?”

“Danny. Danny Embury.”

“Probably goes by Daniel now,” J-P said. “Or maybe just Dan. So how come it's cut in half like that?”

David told J-P the story his mother had told him. “It was the only picture of my mother and her brother together. When the family that adopted him moved away, they cut it in half and both of them kept the part with the other one in it.”

J-P kept staring at the photo, then glanced at David and shook his head. “It's almost spooky.”

While J-P studied the photo, David thought about the words his mother had written on the folder.
Find
him.

“I wish I could just go to Seattle myself,” David said. He knew it sounded too silly to say out loud, but he believed their strong resemblance would bring them together somehow if he could only get close enough to where his uncle was.

J-P shook his head. “It's a long way to go on your own. I don't know how you could do it.”

“Neither do I,” David admitted.

Seattle was three thousand miles away, and it was in a different country. It would take a week to ride a train from Montreal to Vancouver, and it would cost about $60 for the cheapest ticket. That was a full month's salary for many working people. And that wouldn't even pay for a mattress and a pillow to sleep on the train, or for any food along the way. Then it would cost more money to get from Vancouver to Seattle. He couldn't just sleep on the street when he got there, either. He'd have to pay for somewhere to stay. And who could know how long it would take? Besides, what would he actually do if he got there? Wander the streets looking for a grown man who looked like him?

It all seemed impossible. And probably crazy. It was best not even to think about it too much and hope that the letters Mrs. Freedman was sending would eventually find his uncle.

“So can you really fix this?” J-P asked, tossing his coat onto the table. “It's a pretty big rip.”

David knew he could do it easily, but he was a little surprised how much he actually wanted to. It only took him a few minutes, and J-P's coat looked as good as new.

“Lemme see that,” J-P said, picking up his coat and giving the sleeve a good going over. He ran his fingers along where the tear used to be. “Real smooth. You can barely tell it was ripped. How'd you learn to sew like that?”

“My mother taught me.” David didn't go into any of the details. “I used to help her.”

“You're really good,” J-P said. “You shouldn't be spending so much time with me in da pantry. You should be helping Mrs. Wolfe fix da clothes.”

A sour look flashed across David's face. “No,” he said bitterly. “Sewing is women's work! People always pick on me when they know I can sew.”

J-P was surprised by the angry response. “Do you know how many Jewish men work as tailors in this city? Or own shops in da clothing business? Probably half da people who run this orphanage have a relative working in the needle trade. For a kid who can sew like this, it'll be easy to find a job. So don't tell me sewing's women's work! I work in a kitchen and stock da pantry to make my living, but I don't mind. Everyone has to do something to earn money. If you're lucky, you can do something you're good at.”

C
HAPTER
14

It was just after David started school again in January that J-P thought of a way he might be able to help his young friend get to Seattle. But Mrs. Freedman hadn't heard anything yet from anyone she'd written to, and J-P couldn't think of anything David could actually do to find his uncle if he got there. So he didn't say anything for a while. But then, at the end of January, Mrs. Freedman finally got a letter from someone in Seattle. The man who had written her hadn't been able to locate anyone named Danny Embury, but the news wasn't entirely bad.

“Far from it,” Mrs. Freedman said. “In fact, I'd say we've gotten some very promising clues.”

“What kind of clues?” David asked.

“Well, it seems there are several families in Seattle your Uncle Danny could be related to. We've been spelling his name E-M-B-U-R-Y, but that isn't necessarily correct, is it?”

David realized that was true. He'd never actually seen the name written down. He'd only heard his mother say it.

“We haven't found a Danny Embury, but there are five families in Seattle named Embree and two named Embery. He could be part of one of those families. There's even someone named Irving Embury who might be a relative. The man who wrote back from
The
Jewish Voice
— it's the Jewish newspaper there — will try to find their addresses and then he'll send them to me. Once we've got them, I can start writing letters to those people and we'll see if any of them can tell us something about your uncle.”

When David told J-P the news, J-P realized there was now something David could actually do if he got to Seattle. He could find these people and talk to them himself. It was time to tell David what he'd been thinking.

The Stanley Cup final was going to be in the west this year, and if the Canadiens won the NHL title, they'd be the ones facing the championship team from the PCHA. There was no guarantee that team would be Seattle, but there were only three teams in that league, too, and Seattle was always a top contender. A job with a tailor or in a clothing store would probably make more sense for David in the long run, but there was plenty of time for that later. Right now a job mending uniforms for the Canadiens might help him find his uncle.

“Remember when I told you my bruder used to wrestle for Mr. Kennedy?” J-P asked David. “Well, he doesn't know me at all, but I'm sure as a favour to Jacques he'd meet with me.”

“About what?”

“About you. Maybe if I talk to him and explain, he'd give you a job. Dere must be someone who has to sew up da holes players get in their uniforms.”

“Do you really think he'll hire me?”

“I don't know. But I do know one thing. He'll probably see me because he liked my bruder, and he might even agree to meet with you, but dere's no way he'll give you a job just because of Jacques. Mr. Kennedy never does anything unless it makes sense … Dollars and cents. So you'll have to show him you can do da job … if dere's even a job to do.”

J-P shook his head. “I wish I made you help Mrs. Wolfe after you fixed my coat. Then you could've been sewing all this time. But dere's nothing we can do about that. You'll just have to start now … even if da other boys pick on you for it.”

David and J-P spoke to Mrs. Freedman about their plan. They showed her how well he'd fixed J-P's coat, and she agreed that if David was going to quit school to start working in the fall, anyway, he might as well begin working now if J-P could get him this job. Privately, she never thought it would happen, but she also didn't see any harm in trying.

“You should keep going to school for now,” she told David, “but if you think it'll help you to assist Mrs. Wolfe with the sewing, I'm sure she'd be glad to have you lend a hand.”

So every day after school for the next few weeks, David helped Mrs. Wolfe whenever there was sewing to do. Some of the boys thought it was strange, but no one ever bothered to make any trouble. Boys and girls all had to do the dishes after dinner and take turns sweeping the floors in their dorms. No one really cared who did what as long as everything got taken care of.

With only three teams in the NHL, the regular season was just eighteen games long. It lasted only two months and was over by the middle of February. Two teams made the playoffs, and their series started one week later.

The Canadiens went on a hot streak in January, and they clinched a playoff spot before the end of the month. Although the Habs slumped subsequently, J-P paid Mr. Kennedy a visit after the team played its final game on February 15. Mr. Kennedy made no promises, but he agreed to meet with David at the Canadiens' practice on Friday before the playoffs started on Saturday, February 22.

The Canadiens always held their workouts at noon, so David had to skip school to attend the practice. He was going to drop out soon enough, anyway, so what did it matter?