Reckoning of Boston Jim (45 page)
Ah, they are all dead, all dead. That is what is unfortunate about living so long. I am the grand old dame of the town, as your paper said. Was it your paper? Ah, and I have forgotten your name. No matter. At least I will not outlive my daughter. I will not outlive my granddaughters. For that I am grateful.
Do you see them, dear? They fill the room. Why, the dead, of course. There is dear Mrs. Smitherton. She never left the Cowichan, even after Mr. Smitherton died and that not five years after Eugene did. Often I went to visit her and bring her food and coal and any new-fangled invention for the easing of a woman's work. She was such a solace to me when I was alone in the Cowichan. I would have died for want of her advice and friendship and nourishing food. There stand Mary and Jeremiah. Oh, I would have died without them, too. It was they who taught me the jargon of the Chinook and in time some of the words of their own language. These words had the weight of gifts, so gravely did they give them. And Mrs. Jacobsen of the Avalon Hotel. She is standing behind your chair, her hands on her hips. I worked at the Avalon for a time, that was where Eugene courted me, that was where we fell in love. She moved to Toronto after her husband died, murdered it was whispered, by her very hand. I did not believe it. She was a hard mistress, but she meant well and I never held a grudge against her. She loved my Eugene, you see, as so many people did, men and women both. And how can you dislike someone who loves what you do?
Ah, there is Eugene taking up an entire doorway, bellowing for his beloved Dora. And there sits Jacob, his head against the antimacassars that must still bear the imprint of his hair. Ah, Jacob, he was a fine man between the sheets, but I never feared I would lose myself in him, not as I feared, gloriously feared, that I would lose myself in Eugene.
My dear, you are such a fine listener. And so I will tell you something that I have never told anyone. After my Eggy died I fell into the blackest despair. I did not want to live, for I could not imagine living without him. And so one morning I walked into the bay. Further and further. My skirts swirled about me like some great sea creature. How cold, it was, how terribly cold. The salt waves broke over my shoulders and neck. I did not know how to swim. I still do not. One more step. And I might have committed such a sin, oh, I might have, but for the sense that came upon me, certain as the icy cold, that happiness would be returned to me. It was as if I had been given a glimpse of my lovely shop and my devoted Jacob and my daughter's kindness, and of all my wonderful friends and even of you, dear, listening so patiently to an old woman's talk. And so it was that I floundered back to shore.
Although Eugene, Dora and Boston Jim are fictional, many of the people they encounter are historical, including Governor Douglas, Judge Begbie and his clerk Arthur Bushby, Isaac Oppenheimer the provisionist in Yale, Francis Barnard the postman cum stagecoach operator, Cataline the packer, Wellington Moses the barber in Barkerville, Miss Burdett-Coutts and Edmund Hope Verney of the Ladies Immigration Committee, and of course, Karl Marx. The brideship
Tynemouth
is also historical. The events I describe on-board, however, are fictional. The camels Eugene encounters were brought over as pack animals in
1862
. They proved ill-tempered and ill-suited to the terrain and were soon let loose to puzzle travellers until
1905
when the last of them died. Eugene's waltz with a dead man was inspired by the historical account of a wake at
150
Mile House.
Work on the Cariboo Wagon Road began in
1861
. Only two years later the majority of the work was done. Eighteen feet wide and four hundred miles long, the road cut through canyons, cliffs, and mountains and was indeed an engineering marvel. Much of today's Highway
97
follows the route of the original wagon road and towns such as
100
Mile House are named for the roadhouses that once stood there. Barkerville is now a national park with over one hundred and twenty-five restored buildings and is well worth a visit.
Although I used many books in researching this novel, I am particularly indebted to Branwen Patenaude's
Trails to Gold: Roadhouses of the Cariboo, Volumes I and II;
Barkerville
by Richard Thomas Wright, and
Wagon Road North
by Art Downs. I am also indebted to the classic anthropological work
The Gift: the Form and Reason for Exchange in Archaic Societies
by Marcel Mauss, as this provided that first spark of inspiration. Lastly, I am indebted to my husband Benno for all his patience and support.
CLAIRE MULLIGAN
was raised in Kelowna, British Columbia, but calls Vancouver home. Before completing her studies in English and Anthropology at the University of British Columbia, Claire backpacked through Europe, Southeast Asia and Central America. To fund her writing habit, Claire has worked in ski resorts and fishing lodges and has been a waiter, chambermaid, freelance editor and
ESL
tutor. Her short stories have garnered awards and appeared in many literary publications. She now lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and three children.
The Reckoning of Boston Jim
is her first novel.
Copyright © 2007 by Claire Mulligan
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansâelectronic, mechanical, audio recording, or otherwiseâwithout the written permission of the publisher or a photocopying licence from Access Copyright, Toronto, Canada.
Originally published by Brindle & Glass Publishing Co. Ltd. in 2007 in softcover
ISBN 978-1-897142-21-9
This electronic edition was released in 2011
ePub ISBN 978-1-926972-26-8
Cataloguing data available from Library and Archives Canada
Cover image courtesy of British Columbia Archives, B-06646 by A.E. Stanfield, 1899
Map from “Wagon Road North.” Used by permission of Heritage House Publishers Co. Ltd.
Author photo by Claudia Molina
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Brindle & Glass acknowledges the financial support for its publishing program from the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund, Canada Council for the Arts, and the province of British Columbia through the British Columbia Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
