terms you’re offering.”
He made a quick decision. Vink was clearly astute, and he would spot concealment. “He can go on a bit. He’s a nice young man, but he goes on a bit.”
Vink laughed. “Is that all? I thought maybe he was on the run or something like that. Wanted by the RCMP maybe.”
“Oh no. He’s one hundred per cent honest.” He said this with a conviction that showed.
“In that case,” said Vink, “I’ll take him. I need a couple of new hands. We’ll see how he shapes up.”
“You won’t regret it,” said Mr. Beaulieu.
“Time will tell,” said Vink. “It tells most things if you give it the chance.”
“You’re right there, Mr. Vink.
Time like an ever-rolling stream
…”
Vink took the reference. “
Bears all its sons away
…Oh, those old hymns have it, don’t they, Mr. Beaulieu?”
“They sure do, Mr. Vink.”
They shook hands, and Vink went back to his operation and to the length of the section of intestine that had been removed. “Two feet,” he said. “Surgeon showed it to me afterwards.”
—
“A circus, Dad? Toronto?”
Mr. Beaulieu smiled at his son. “Actually, he said that he’d want you to start over in BC. They have a branch over there—place called New Westminster, just outside Vancouver. It’s where the railway line ends.”
“Oh, I know all about New Westminster,” said Eddie, enthusiastically. “I’ve read about it. The Fraser River.”
“He said you could start straight away. He’ll give you the money for your railway ticket. Three days from Toronto, isn’t it? All the way across.”
“I’ll make food for the journey,” said Mrs. Beaulieu. “You won’t go hungry.”
“They have food on the train,” said Eddie. “I’ve seen pictures of folks eating as they go across the prairies…eating at tables like they were at home but they’re actually on the prairies, you see…”
“Yes, yes,” said Mr. Beaulieu.
Eddie’s smile faded. “It’s a long way away, BC. Are you going to be all right back here? By yourselves?”
His parents exchanged a glance. “Eddie, you don’t worry about us. You just seize this opportunity with both hands. Seize the day, as they say.”
“You sure, Dad?”
“I’m one hundred per cent sure, Eddie. This is your big chance.” He feigned a playful punch at his son’s shoulder. “Work hard and justify the faith Mr. Vink has in you. Work hard and you get to the top.”
“The big top,” said Eddie. “That’s what they call a circus tent. The big top, eh, Dad?”
They laughed. “Good for you, son,” said Mr. Beaulieu. “Your future is just beginning.”
4
In New Westminster he was given lodgings in a boarding house two blocks away from the circus warehouse. Two young port workers lived there too, and the three of them were looked after by an indulgent landlady who referred to “her boys” and who not only cooked for them but also took it upon herself to launder and repair their clothes.
On his first day at work, he was taken round by the circus manager and introduced to all twenty-three people who ran the circus, from the men who erected the tent to the trapeze artists, a couple of Russian exiles, morose chain smokers who, when not practising or performing, sat in their trailer and wrote letters to their friends in Paris. They spoke virtually no English, but pretended to understand what was said to them, nodding in agreement until they could return to their lengthy correspondence.
“Your job,” said the manager, “is going to be collecting tickets at the entrance, showing people to their seats, and cleaning up after each show. You’re also going to be assistant to Frank—my second-in-command. You do whatever Frank wants you to do.”
Eddie hid his disappointment. He had seen himself performing, even if he had yet to work out exactly what he could do. It was difficult to do card tricks in front of a large audience, but he could do some conjuring. He could make things
He made a quick decision. Vink was clearly astute, and he would spot concealment. “He can go on a bit. He’s a nice young man, but he goes on a bit.”
Vink laughed. “Is that all? I thought maybe he was on the run or something like that. Wanted by the RCMP maybe.”
“Oh no. He’s one hundred per cent honest.” He said this with a conviction that showed.
“In that case,” said Vink, “I’ll take him. I need a couple of new hands. We’ll see how he shapes up.”
“You won’t regret it,” said Mr. Beaulieu.
“Time will tell,” said Vink. “It tells most things if you give it the chance.”
“You’re right there, Mr. Vink.
Time like an ever-rolling stream
…”
Vink took the reference. “
Bears all its sons away
…Oh, those old hymns have it, don’t they, Mr. Beaulieu?”
“They sure do, Mr. Vink.”
They shook hands, and Vink went back to his operation and to the length of the section of intestine that had been removed. “Two feet,” he said. “Surgeon showed it to me afterwards.”
—
“A circus, Dad? Toronto?”
Mr. Beaulieu smiled at his son. “Actually, he said that he’d want you to start over in BC. They have a branch over there—place called New Westminster, just outside Vancouver. It’s where the railway line ends.”
“Oh, I know all about New Westminster,” said Eddie, enthusiastically. “I’ve read about it. The Fraser River.”
“He said you could start straight away. He’ll give you the money for your railway ticket. Three days from Toronto, isn’t it? All the way across.”
“I’ll make food for the journey,” said Mrs. Beaulieu. “You won’t go hungry.”
“They have food on the train,” said Eddie. “I’ve seen pictures of folks eating as they go across the prairies…eating at tables like they were at home but they’re actually on the prairies, you see…”
“Yes, yes,” said Mr. Beaulieu.
Eddie’s smile faded. “It’s a long way away, BC. Are you going to be all right back here? By yourselves?”
His parents exchanged a glance. “Eddie, you don’t worry about us. You just seize this opportunity with both hands. Seize the day, as they say.”
“You sure, Dad?”
“I’m one hundred per cent sure, Eddie. This is your big chance.” He feigned a playful punch at his son’s shoulder. “Work hard and justify the faith Mr. Vink has in you. Work hard and you get to the top.”
“The big top,” said Eddie. “That’s what they call a circus tent. The big top, eh, Dad?”
They laughed. “Good for you, son,” said Mr. Beaulieu. “Your future is just beginning.”
4
In New Westminster he was given lodgings in a boarding house two blocks away from the circus warehouse. Two young port workers lived there too, and the three of them were looked after by an indulgent landlady who referred to “her boys” and who not only cooked for them but also took it upon herself to launder and repair their clothes.
On his first day at work, he was taken round by the circus manager and introduced to all twenty-three people who ran the circus, from the men who erected the tent to the trapeze artists, a couple of Russian exiles, morose chain smokers who, when not practising or performing, sat in their trailer and wrote letters to their friends in Paris. They spoke virtually no English, but pretended to understand what was said to them, nodding in agreement until they could return to their lengthy correspondence.
“Your job,” said the manager, “is going to be collecting tickets at the entrance, showing people to their seats, and cleaning up after each show. You’re also going to be assistant to Frank—my second-in-command. You do whatever Frank wants you to do.”
Eddie hid his disappointment. He had seen himself performing, even if he had yet to work out exactly what he could do. It was difficult to do card tricks in front of a large audience, but he could do some conjuring. He could make things
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