Peggy go up there, are you?” Aunt Margaret’s voice was all squeaky and shrill, the way it got when she was appalled about something. I looked at my mother hopefully, but her face was expressionless as she reread Aunt Norma’s letter.
Just then the telephone rang. “I’ll get that while you three work this out,” announced Uncle Stuart. It was just like him to get out of the way when things started heating up.
“Seriously, Liz, your daughter needs to keep up with her school work. Getting a good education is the most important thing she has to do.” Aunt Margaret folded her arms and had that all-too-common “I’m right” look on her face.
“I agree, Margie. Peggy’s education is the most important thing. But there’s more ways to learn than just sitting in a classroom.”
My mom was so cool. I felt like flying across the room and giving her a bear hug.
“Don’t give me that line about ‘alternate learning methods.’ If Peggy’s going to succeed academically, go on to university one day and then have a decent career, she needs to be in class every day.”
“I’m not saying that learning in a traditional school setting is bad. I’m just saying that the whole world is Peggy’s classroom, and yes, there are alternative ways to learn.”
“Ah, sorry to interrupt,” Uncle Stuart broke in. “Peggy, the phone, it’s for you. It’s Dr. McKay.”
I glanced at Aunt Margaret, who looked as if she’d just stepped in something brown and disgusting. Then I leaped off the chair and grabbed the phone.
“Eddy! How are you? I’m so happy you called…. You’re going where? … I can’t believe you know about that. My aunt just sent us a letter…. Yes, she lives in Golden…. You’re going when? … Do I want to come? Are you kidding?” I cupped the phone. “Mom, it’s Eddy. Get ready for this — she’s been asked by the Archaeology Branch to go up to Golden and do a historical resource assessment. Talk about coincidences! And not only that, she’s going to excavate the vandalized burial in the Golden Pioneer Cemetery before the cold weather sets in. She’s leaving this Wednesday and she’s invited me to go up and help her.”
I couldn’t look at Aunt Margaret because I knew she was wearing one of her frowns — the kind that was meant to make me melt from her disapproval. Instead I just stared into Mom’s smiling eyes.
These past few years had been tough on my mom. When my dad died, she was left trying to take care of me. She had a good job, but then the place closed down. That was why we had to move in with Aunt Margaret and Uncle Stuart. Now that she finally had a new job, we’d soon be able to rent a house of our own in Crescent Beach. And to be honest, as much as I loved Aunt Margaret, I was looking forward to life without her breathing down my neck every day.
Mom grinned. “Peggy, have you, Norma, and Dr. McKay been cooking this whole thing up behind our backs?”
I shook my head furiously. “Honestly, Mom, before Aunt Norma’s letter came this morning, I knew nothing about the entire thing.”
“Well, if you ask me —” Aunt Margaret began.
“Thank you, Margie, but I’m not asking you this time,” Mom said firmly.
Oh-oh, I thought, someone’s going to pay for that. As Aunt Margaret’s face turned bright red, Uncle Stuart quietly ducked out of the room.
“No, this has to be my decision,” Mom continued as she wandered to the window and stared out as though studying the clouds while Aunt Margaret’s barometer edged up and steam began to pour out of her ears. “Okay, here’s the deal, Peggy,” Mom said finally. “You can go to Golden with Dr. McKay and stay with Aunt Norma for as long as it takes to finish the excavation. But you’ll be expected to keep up with your math, spelling, and grammar.”
I nodded eagerly like one of those bouncing dashboard puppies.
“And that’s not all. When the excavation’s complete, I expect you to write a report for your teacher on what you and Eddy learned — a history report on the life of Golden’s pioneers. Now, if you can promise to do all of that, as well as help Dr. McKay, then you can go. Deal?”
“Yippee, it’s a deal!” I screamed, forgetting that I was holding on to the phone. “Oh, sorry, Eddy, did I hurt your ear? I’m just so happy. Mom says I can go.”
For the rest of the day I was like one of those windup toys that never stopped moving. And it only got worse after Mom called Aunt Norma to tell her I’d be coming to stay with her. After supper I reread my aunt’s letter and newspaper clipping three times and even made notes.
The next day Mom took me to the bookstore and we bought a couple of math and English workbooks. I didn’t even complain when we got home and Aunt Margaret handed me two more she just happened to have. Right!
On Wednesday morning Mom stood in front of me with a list. “Okay, have you packed enough socks and underwear?”
“Check.”
“Did you put in five pants and five tops?”
“Check.”
“A couple of warm sweaters?”
“Check.”
“Good, and here’s the pajamas I just washed, your raincoat, and your boots. If there’s anything we forgot, you’ll have to borrow it from Aunt Norma.” Mom sat on the bed and smiled as though remembering something. “Gosh, I just realized the last time you stayed with Aunt Norma on your own was when you were two years old. It was before your father died and he and I had the chance to go on a company holiday to Hawaii. Norma offered to look after you. Do you remember that?”
“Ah, Mom, I was two. What’s there to remember?”
Mom laughed. “Well, maybe it’s just as well you don’t remember. It would only embarrass you.” She began stuffing my things into the backpack on my bed.
“What do you mean, it would embarrass me? What happened, anyway?”
She started doing her snorting giggle thing, which always made me laugh, too. “Oh, dear, it was so hilarious. It was the day before we were to get home from our trip and you’d gotten into Aunt Norma’s preserved plums and eaten an entire jar. By night you’d pooped your way through all the diapers we’d left for her. In a small town the stores close early, so she got the idea she’d make a diaper like the Kootenay First Nations once used — leaves, cottonwood seeds, and animal hides.”
At this point in the story Mom was holding her sides and barely breathing. “You’ve got to give her credit. If nothing else, Norma’s innovative. So she went out and gathered the largest and softest leaves she had in her garden for padding your bottom, and since she didn’t have any animal skin, she cut holes in a plastic bag for your legs and tied a ribbon around your waist to keep it all together. By the time we arrived, you’d pooped your way through all her spinach, collard, and kale — and, oh, your poor little bottom was covered in a rash and stained green for days.” She was right. That was an embarrassing story. And between that and my mom, who was laughing like an out-of-breath hyena, I, too, was nearly rolling on the floor.
“Well, there’s definitely not going to be any plums this time,” I said. “But just in case, I’m putting in five more underwear.”
