Extensions (30 page)

Before I could ask about her family, Gail said: “So how do you like your new cousin, Mr. Dryvynsydes?”

“Please call me Lew, Gail. And thank you so much for finding him for us. Hearing his story was a revelation — Bella must have told you.”

“Actually, we haven't had a chance to talk and I'd like to hear it now. Don't forget I loved Sara too, so any twin of hers concerns me. I almost choked when Howard Mingus told me the picture was of his grandmother and her sister. I thought you two should share the revelation with Wendell Mingus.”

“I figured as much.”

Guided by their questions, Dad and I filled Monty and Gail in on everything Wendell had told us. About his parents meeting on Vancouver Island, their return to the family homestead in Saskatchewan, and his mother's final years in Calgary. Not intentionally, we saved the part about the little girls parting until the end. Dad had to bite his lip. Gail's eyes misted too. “Sara never told you about it?”

“We all knew about her mother's dying request to name her son Lew, but not about the fight with Janet over the paper, or about the day of their separation.”

“Shows how deep the wound went. What did Sara tell you of those years after the separation?” Gail asked Dad, assuming I wouldn't have been paying attention.

“She often spoke of her ordeal of living with Aunt Lizzie. She dealt with Lizzie's jealousy, stinginess, and laziness by working harder than ever, even though it made Lizzie and her older daughters resent her even more.”

“How much older were they?”

“Edna and Myrtle were quite a bit older — maybe twelve years or so — and they had both married miners in Ladysmith and lived in their own homes not far away. But they were always around, according to Mother, and they made her life miserable. The one bright light was baby Laura, born to Lizzie in her forties.”

“Sara was there for the birth,” I added. “She told me she pretended Laura was her missing sister. She developed a bond with the little girl, who ended up frail and sheltered.

“Lizzie allowed it?” asked Gail.

“Seems she was so lazy she was happy to have the child taken care of. Mother said she would snatch her away only when she saw them getting too close.”

“From Jane's letters, Uncle Thomas sounds like a decent, responsible guy — couldn't he do anything?” I turned the story back over to Dad.

“He probably tried, but from what Mother said, Lizzie was completely overbearing and he hated scenes. At least he fought for her to go to school until Grade Eight because he recognized her ability. Like Janet, she left home as early as she could and found a job as a waitress at the Nanaimo Hotel.”

“Wasn't that where she met your father?” asked Gail.

Dad nodded. “Miles Dryvynsydes was a miner too — a reluctant one — and she said they would always be grateful to the teacher who remembered his ability and recommended him for a job in a bank in Nanaimo.”

I butted in, to show I did listen to my grandmother sometimes. “Sara often said that teacher changed the course of their lives. She loved dwelling on twists of fate. Didn't they elope just before he got transferred to Alberta so they could start their life as a couple?”

“It was to a little town called Milo, and from there they moved all over southern Alberta. I was born in Milo and Janetta in Medicine Hat.”

Dad's pile of records had finished, so I slipped some Sarah McLachlan into the
CD
player while he was talking. “But that's probably enough of the Dryvynsydes family tree. We've monopolized the whole night.”

Monty spoke up. “Not at all — it's fascinating. Remember, I was there for the first clue — the photo. And as a twin myself, I know how brutal that separation would be.” Ignoring Gail's comment “That would be news to Wolfe,” he asked, “How did both think the other was dead?”

“Sara said Aunt Lizzie told her Janet had died of the second wave of influenza the following year.”

“And according to Wendell, Janet believed the same thing of Sara.”

Dad, always fair-minded, said, “I hate to think either family made it up. They were both poor, and in those days, Victoria was a world away from Ladysmith if you didn't have the means to travel. Jane says in her letters the brothers did not go out of their way to see each other. Both families might have heard through a relative that the other sister was dead and did nothing to confirm it. Don't forget the wives weren't thrilled to have the girls in the first place.”

“What about Laura?” Monty asked.

“When I was six, Mother had a telegram saying Uncle Thomas had died. I remember the date — September 18, 1936 — because Janetta was born the same day. Mother was quite upset that she couldn't take the train to his funeral, but with a new baby she wasn't allowed out of bed. She told me later she and Dad sent money to Lizzie for funeral expenses. And I know she sent money in Christmas cards after that. No word from that family until at least ten years later when Laura sent an announcement of her mother's death — very flowery about Lizzie being at home in the arms of Jesus. Lizzie had taken Laura into some fundamental religion. Come to think of it, that's when the bundle of letters might have arrived.”

Dad straightened his shoulders, his face brightening at a released memory. “You know, that's right. We had just moved to Vancouver from Red Deer and there were still crates to be unpacked in the house. The package must have been forwarded from the Red Deer address. I was a moody seventeen-year-old, angry at leaving my friends behind to start a new school in this big city. The last thing I cared about was some unknown aunt or even a packet of letters, but I do remember Mother sitting down on her Queen Anne chair with her apron on in the middle of all the unpacking to inspect them. I'm afraid my interest didn't go any further than that — until this year.

“But how did Laura — or Lizzie — end up with them?”

Dad shrugged. “Can't say. As far as I know, there was just the death announcement with the letters. A few years later when Janetta married Lawrence and moved to Nanaimo, Mother asked her to look Laura up in Ladysmith; you'll have to ask Janetta for more details. I have a vague recollection of Mother saying the house was full of scriptures and crucifixes and Janetta wasn't welcome.”

“Sara was generous to bother with them after those years of meanness,” Gail commented.

On my way to the refrigerator for the shrimp ring, I called back, “The hardest thought for me is that Sara and Janet were both working in hotels a short train ride apart without knowing it. What a comfort they would have been to each other.”

“That's not the worst of it,” said Dad quietly. “If Janet and Matt Mingus went back to the family homestead before the war, that means the twin sisters were only an hour apart when we lived in Medicine Hat in the thirties. They might well have passed each other on the street, when the Minguses went there to shop.”

“Think of it,” said Gail. “Sara and Janet in the same store; Sara maybe even glancing her way as she leaves. You don't know your own face as others know it, especially if you're not looking.” Her shoulders under her poncho shook a little.

“Dad and Wendell would have been playmates growing up,” I said, returning with the food.

Just then the phone rang and Gail's mother asked to speak to Monty. Clancy wasn't settling down and wanted to say goodnight to his daddy. Monty took the phone and disappeared into the kitchen. I told Gail this was a good time to put a book mark in the saga of the sisters. We wanted to hear about her family. I pulled my little friend off the couch and hugged her tightly. “What a favour you've done for us, putting all this in motion.”

“One phone call — what's that? I didn't know investigative reporting could be such a thrill. Maybe I'll use it as an assignment if I ever get around to journalism.”

Monty returned and I steered the conversation to their lives in Willow Point: Gail's new positions as president of the Arts Council and Minor Hockey Association, Monty's act of bravery in rescuing a snow-mobiler who had fallen through the ice on a nearby lake. At their urging, Dad brought out his illustrations in progress, promising the first autographed copy of Sissipuss to Clancy and Macy, should it ever find a publisher.

Of course, Dad had to bring up my history mark and I had to act embarrassed. He explained how I used Jane's letters as historical references until I gave him a warning glare. We were back in our family history again and I didn't want the year to end on this self-centred note. He got the message, promptly jumping up to set out champagne and glasses. Midnight was creeping up. I brought in the warmed quiches and sliced them as finger food.

Monty asked for New Year's resolutions.

I quoted Sara saying that a thought was the hardest thing in the world to change or be rid of — harder than any diets or exercises. Ray came to mind for so rarely coming to mind anymore.

“No more negative thoughts,” said Gail, chanting it like an anthem.

I wasn't finished. “As a remedy against harmful thinking, I hereby store the spirit in this room at this moment in my Save file.” With my thumb I pushed the centre of my forehead where Sara said our third eye perceived what the other two didn't. “I can call it up whenever I need consolation.”

“This is getting weird,” said Monty, “but why not, it's you, Bella.”

Dad turned on the
TV
to make sure we were right on the stroke of midnight. When the crystal ball hit the ground in Times Square, we all hugged and toasted the new year with champagne.

A few seconds later, the phone rang. I expected it to be Gail's parents and answered without checking.

“Happy New Year from Hawaii,” said Warren Wright.

My stomach gave a little flip as I walked into the bedroom, away from the curious eyes and ears. “You've still got a couple of hours to go. No big party going on?”

“There are a few people at the condo, but I'm taking a walk along the beach thinking of you.”

“That's nice to hear.”

A robust laugh from Monty in the next room changed his tone. “Sounds as if you're busy.”

“My best friend and her husband are visiting from Saskatchewan.”

“I won't keep you from them. I'll be home next week. Maybe we'll get together.”

“Sure.”

My blushing face gave everything away and Gail demanded details. I insisted there wasn't much to tell, but I knew Monty would never let me forget I was going out with one of my felons. “Soon you'll be forbidden from visiting prisoners in cells.”

Gail started yawning and gave Monty a nudge. Morning came early for Macy and Clancy. Instead of responding, he asked for a pen and paper and began to write.

What we know so far: Source of photos. Janet's and Sara's whereabouts
and lifespans from personal testimony and witnesses. Mother Jane's life from
letters and witnesses.

What we need to know: How letters from Jane ended up where they did.
Roland? What happened to him after being last seen lying drunk by his daughters
at age eight? Rap sheet on Roland.

He tore out the page and handed it to me. I started feeling guilty again about the interest these two were taking in my investigation until the keen look in Monty's eye reminded me of why he was such a good cop. I could not let the team down and promised to phone Mona Mingus in Calgary. She was our only hope for any more clues. Gail suggested meeting tomorrow — this afternoon — at the Polar Bear Swim at English Bay. We both knew we would never find each other in the crush of spectators, but it made saying goodbye easier.

Dad looked tired so I shooed him to bed, assuring him I would clean up. Before he turned in, he said he had asked his finger about whether he should go to the Polar Bear swim and it told him no, for me to go ahead without him. I took this as a signal to bring up the possibility of moving back to my apartment, but not tonight. Alone in the kitchen, I had an absurd image of our family quirks. Would pressing foreheads and rising fingers eventually lead to communicating through a game of “head and shoulders, knees and toes” with no words at all? I giggled myself through the dishes.