Die großen Western Classic 32 – Western. H. C. Hollister
there, dear.” Mum laid her potato and knife on the oilcloth-covered surface and walked over to Ethel. Wrapping her arms around Ethel, she said, “How can that be possible? Are you sure you heard him right?”
“That’s what he said,” Ethel said, leaning into her mum. “And he won’t change his mind. He won’t even consider me waiting for another year until Elsie’s stronger. He says I should go now and help Tom prepare a home for all of us.”
The kitchen with its familiar shiny cupboard tops and organized dishes and pans reminded Ethel of the many good meals and conversations and the love shared in this room. Today, it seemed like a haven away from the cruel choices of life.
Mum stepped back and placed wrinkled hands on her hips. “Then, my dear, that’s exactly what you must do. Elsie will stay with us. Your father and I will take good care of her. It won’t be forever.”
Ethel looked at her mother’s favourite pose. She’d seen this other times whenever Mum was serious about doing something difficult.
“It seems like it.” Ethel wiped her nose with her handkerchief. “Anyway, it’s just too much to ask of you, with your young ones and all. Why, you’d have both Evie and Elsie at almost the same age. That’d be enough to drive you down the road.” Ethel shook her head.
“The other children can help,” Mum said. “We can handle it.”
“I can’t bear to think of it.” Ethel slumped down in a chair beside the kitchen table. “I don’t know what I’d do without Elsie. And I’m so afraid. What if—”
“Now, now, enough of that,” Mum said. “You’ve plenty to think about without the what ifs in life.”
“You know how it hurts.” Ethel wiped a tear away. “I remember like it was yesterday when our Will died with a weak heart—and him so young.”
“I remember too, lass…our firstborn,” Mum said. “But this is different. You’ll see Elsie again.” Her voice softened. “I know it won’t be easy for you, but think how complicated it would be if you had to cope with Elsie’s health during the crossing, and then all the settling once you arrive, never mind getting her away to school in the next year or so.” She placed a loaf of bread on the table. “And you don’t know how Tom’s going to be when you get there.”
“Tom’s all right, Mum,” Ethel countered. “I can tell by his letters. We’d manage.” Ethel folded her handkerchief. “I just can’t bear to go on without her. Maybe there’ll be more organized care in Canada and—”
“Ethel, rest assured we’ll work out things for Elsie right here at home. Your pa and I, we’ll get along fine.” Mum turned and faced Ethel. “Now Canada’s another story; it’s a colony. Don’t count on better ways. I know you’re very taken with all the Canadian propaganda, but you have to realize the country isn’t established like England.” She leaned over and held Ethel’s hand. “But we’ll talk about that later. Your father is going to be home for supper, and the table won’t be laid if I don’t get to it.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “You go wash up.”
After Mum cleared the supper dishes, Pa and the younger children played on the floor in front of the cook-stove. “Come on, lass,” she said, “sit down and have your tea. I think we’d better talk about Canada, a wee bit.” She put the teapot on the table. “There are lots of things you will find the same over there. For instance, a church will be as important to you in Canada as it has been here. Friends will be a grand support for you. Family will be of the utmost importance. Learning about life in general will hold as many surprises as it did for you here. And that’s only a few similarities. But, there’s another side that you will discover.” Mum picked up the salt and pepper shakers and placed them on the cupboard shelf. “I’ve read about Canada being the Wild West, a frontier land. Guns, bears, Indians, buffaloes and tar-paper, even sod houses. It sounds like another world.”
“I know, I’ve read that too,” Ethel said. “But I don’t think that’s Edmonton.”
“Edmonton’s a young city, still developing in many ways. You’re not going to find the shops and fashions like you see in London. The variety of food and available supplies for your family may be quite different, as well as medical resources and information. You have to realize you’ll be stepping into a completely new situation.”
“In spite of all that, Tom and I could cope with Elsie’s condition,” Ethel argued.
“I don’t doubt that for a minute, luv, but you have to get used to the fact that Edmonton won’t be like here. You’ll see lots of poverty, sickness and violence over there.”
“I’ve seen all that here, Mum. Goodness, I’ve worked in both the hospital and street clinic. I’ve walked around. I’ve been in London. I’ve seen the worst side of life.”
“But there’s a difference. We have more support here to match the difficulties we encounter.”
“Not always, Mum.” Ethel remembered patients who had left the clinic clutching fevered children, heading for cold flats. “Anyway, from everything I’ve read, Canada is very inviting. You make it sound depressing.”
“Reality is what I’m suggesting. And there’s something else you should think about besides facilities and professions. Attitudes can be very different. I’ve read where women are encouraged to stay at home and look after their husband and family. We do that too, but it’s more acceptable here for our class of women to work outside the home.”
“What are you saying, Mum? That I won’t be able to nurse?”
Mum cleared her throat. “I’m not saying that, dear. But I do know that attitudes will be different. A woman might be expected to encourage her man and work alongside him; certainly in the country I would think that’d be the case. You have to remember, here in England we can’t even vote or own property. And if that isn’t enough, the government can’t quite decide if we’ve got a mind. I hear they’re going to vote if we’re even persons, and that probably won’t happen for decades.”
“How could that be? Women are women wherever they are. A country can’t dictate a person’s worth or declare how a woman should live her life. Surely, women’s needs are the same, regardless of where they live.” Uncertainty crept through Ethel like a cold chill. She wished she’d thought about these things before, yet still hoping she could share her opinions openly in Canada. Contradictory understandings about issues affecting the home and community had never limited her voice, and she didn’t want it to begin now.
“I have my nursing certificate, and I’ve worked alongside the best.” Ethel centred a wooden bowl on the table, running her fingers over her father’s carefully hand-hewn edges. “I remember hearing about England’s Midwives Act of 1902, long before I thought it possible for me to train as a practical nurse. Surely there’ll be something in Canada by now.”
“I’m only telling you what I read about the West, right in their posters and advertisements.” Mum tapped a flyer lying on the table. “Nursing has definitely taken great strides, but you have to remember it’s only been the last few years that nurses could care for men, look after them, and that’s thanks to Miss Nightingale.”
“I know, Mum, but it’s different now. This is the 1900s.” Ethel sighed. Her immediate concerns were for Elsie and Tom, but she also wanted to nurse in the future. All through the planning with Tom, the conversations at the clinic and with the doctor, Ethel had never thought once that attitudes towards women might be different in Canada. In London, women had a voice, although not a terribly strong one. Still, they did speak out.
Several days later, Ethel set out to talk to the doctor again. She boarded the train to London, flopped onto a seat and rested her head against the back. The noise of the great iron beast filled her senses, and the clanging and banging echoed her confused feelings. Engine fumes saturated the air, leaving a putrid taste in her mouth, reminding her that some things in life aren’t pleasant. She