“Yes, welll … I think nine is too much. So I pass,” Andy decides.
“I’ll take the bid for eight,” says Nick, placing the Ace of Hearts on the table. “And Hearts is trump.”
“Damn.” Francis curses.
“Uncle Nick is dealer, so he doesn’t have to beat the eight, he can just take it,” Sid explains. “Uncle Francis plays next – and we have to follow suit.”
Over in the kitchen, the aunts chat as they chop together salads, in last minute preparations for the evening feast. The improvised playground around the stage expands with a new swell of childish laughter as each family appears through the yellow door with their wound up kids.
“So we got our eight,” Nick comments as Andrew cautiously lays down the last card.
“Damn, damn, damn it.” Francis howls. “I should’ve bid nine.”
“You guys are quite serious,” says Andy, looking at each of them in turn.
Sid raises one eyebrow at Andrew, nodding.
“Three more hands and this game’s over,” Nick predicts, winking at his partner Sid.
“No damn way.” Uncle Francis slaps his knee, squinting hard.
Game drama is cut short, however, as another vehicle skids on parking lot gravel with a double toot of the horn. They glance knowingly at each other, putting their hands face down as the latest family pours through the door. Uncle Francis glances one last time at his cards, then slaps them down, rising to welcome his eldest son. He promises to be back, leaving the others with a half-finished score sheet.
###
“So do you remember coming to LAX at all, Andy?” Nick asks, glancing at his nephew. “You were pretty young.”
“Wow, not really, well … maybe Uncle Nick,” says Andrew. “I’ve been through that airport so many times.”
“You, Robert and your sister. You guys were mostly there for the ice cream.”
“Pistachio! Yes, I do kind of remember.”
“How is your Mom doing?”
“Oh, she’s alright, I guess,” says Andrew. He looks at his Uncle. “Actually not that great lately. I wish she was here right now. I can’t believe she doesn’t come up here all the time … I mean I’m not a psychoanalyst, but I don’t think she’s been talking to the right people the last couple years.”
“I worry about her …” says Uncle Nick. “Is she at all happy?”
“Acting isn’t always in the movies,” Andrew draws his lips tight. “So it’s hard to tell sometimes. She still puts on that magazine smile for John’s big dinner parties at the house. They go out too, it’s always business, sometimes overseas, and then you can tell she’s glad to get home.”
“Really,” Nick listens attentively.
“A few years ago she and John had a real spat. Some other woman I think. Things have never been the same since then,” Andrew sighs. “Didn’t you and Mother hang out quite frequently?”
“Yah, we hung out,” Nick speaks softly. “We tore around a lot, back and forth from town to the lake. Harry had that ‘55 Chevy … and Ksandra … well we had a bunch of fun, until the summer of ’65.”
Sid’s ears perk up.
“Those two guys with the speed boat came to Sahiya … your mom never talks about that?” Uncle Nick asks.
“She’s never said much,” says Andrew. “Unless that’s the summer Ksandra had the accident. When I was a kid she was showing some photos to a friend one time … she talked about Ksandra and she sounded quite upset.”
“Yah, well …” Uncle Nick’s hand tightens. “ … oh, I guess it’s just a part of the past. Maybe your mom is smart to keep quiet. Sure hope to see her again some day … hey you know maybe we could …”
“Andrew Trent! How the hell are you?” Ralf Romaniuk booms, pushing out a solid rough hand to Andy. His face reddens, as always. “You’re my cousin. How come you never call?”
Andrew looks around for help, but extends his hand with a half-smile.
“You wanna beer? What kinda beer you drink?” Ralf gets into it now. “How ‘bout you, Sid. You wanna beer?”
“Still quit, Ralf.” Sid gets up from his chair.
“Let me tell you guys something …” Ralf’s story overrides all else.
Andrew is caught in the verbal snare, by surprise and good manners, and Sid decides to leave him to gnaw his own way out. A good test of social skills he rationalizes unkindly. He follows Uncle Nick heading over to the kitchen after a moment of Ralf.
“You quit drinking Sid?” says Uncle Nick as they walk over.
“Yah. I’m a bona fide member of AA now. One day at a time,” Sid calms with the quieter voice. “How about Uncle Harry? You say he had the car back then. Did he always drink like they say he does now?”
“Well he can be an expressive man on the outside, but he’s actually quite a pussy. I think he hides how he feels in the bottle,” says Nick. “Yah, he drank a little more than the rest when we were young. But when the rest of us slowed down, he kind of did the opposite … and ’65 had an effect on us all.”
“So what happened that summer, Uncle?” says Sid. “You say two guys with a fast boat came to the lake.”
“Yah, those guys.” Nick hesitates. “We started spending time with them, especially Loli and Ksandra. Having a speed boat back then was a real sign that you were someone …”
“OK you guys, grab a chair. It’s time to eat,” Auntie Anna comes by, grabbing Uncle Nick’s arm. “Sidney, I’m taking my brother to eat with his brother and sisters.”
Uncle Nick shrugs at Sid as he is carried away.
###
Left behind to find his own place in the crowd, Sid spots his own siblings and settles in with Jo, and their two brothers.
Flying forks and knives of feeding time are gradually replaced by less dangerous cups of coffee, tea and bottles of beer. Sid’s brothers slip into politics, and Sid finds himself reminiscing with Jo about Grandpa.
“We left them flowers at the graveyard.” Jo had stopped in Debden.
“Grandpa sure was a character,” says Sid. “He was such an adventurer or maybe I should say a survivor … so independent, I mean, it’s the church’s graveyard, but he never had any use for religion …”
“Well why should he?” Jo demands. “What did the church ever do for him? Back in the Old Country they were priests just so they could eat better. Even around here, Grandma told me stories of what that one priest did with that woman who was separated …”
“Well they were all poor back in the Old Country, and I guess everyone struggles when it’s about survival,” says Sid. “So the priests used the church to eat and Grandpa used farming. I’m glad you brought them flowers, Jo. I think Grandma would like them a lot, but Grandpa needs a poem or a story.”
“You’re right; we should write something for him. Where’s a pen? How would it start … ‘from Old Country I did come. To find my place under shining sun … something like that.”
“He did find his place in the sun, didn’t he?” Sid muses. “He just had trouble making friends. I guess when you grow up struggling to survive, it’s all about fighting over scraps. He had to compete with other survivors, and when you compete, you become self-focused and you make enemies. He wasn’t much of a giver, but those fields of grain …”
“Nobody liked him,” Jo shakes her head.
“Did we learn anything from him though? I know I learned about working hard to get ahead. But at the same time, I still have this subconscious poverty mentality – there’s never enough. I don’t know if it fits anymore. You?”
“I don’t really want to be like him at all,” says Jo, “that’s what I learned. He’s a negative model, what not to be. He was so self-absorbed.”
“Do you think we’re rich though?” Sid asks.
“We are rich, brother, there’s no question about that. In India is where you can see what it is to be poor.”
“That was your student loan trip?”
“Yes it was.”
“That’s c
reative spending,” says Sid. “Did you ever see those temples?”
“Oh, lots of temples in India, cows walking through the streets everywhere and the people … so many people dressed in so many colours. You could never find a place to be alone, though,” says Jo. Sid wonders how many go visit a country like India.
“Are those Hindu temples?”
“Unbelievable sculptures of gods and goddesses,” Jo’s enthusiasm blooms. “… of Brahma, of Vishnu, of Shiva … it is mostly Hindu, but there’s some Buddhism, the Lotus Temple is Baha’i. I met some monks there. You know Guatama – he was the first Buddha – but he grew up in a Hindu tradition. He started a completely new religion in Nepal, then he wandered around parts of India teaching. That was the start of Buddhism.”
“So wow, a new religion is born. I guess they all start in some manger story or other… what did you think about this morning with Auntie Teresa and Jamie?”
“Well, religions teach some wisdom, but what matters most is how close you listen. You were asking about treasure,” Jo looks candidly at her brother. “’Cause Buddha teaches some things about wealth too, you know. He was born into a very wealthy family; he was a prince and he grew up in a palace. Then one day he just walked away from it all. He became enlightened and he came to realize that material wealth is temporary – you only have it for a while – and he also learned it doesn’t guarantee happiness. One way to true happiness is through his teachings.”
“Yah, I know you talked about Buddha before,” says Sid. “Are you getting interested again? And what’s this Baha’i?”
“Baha’i is the newest religion, but lots of neighbours back home follow Buddha. Lots of it makes sense. Buddha says true happiness comes from following the eight-fold path, and part of that path is right speech and right action. Just like the bible and true life. You don’t have to mediate much to figure out sharing with others is right action.”
“So, Buddha walked away from a rich family … sounds like he was looking for some other form of value …”
“Buddha teaches all we need to know is inside of us. We have to use meditation to get inside ourselves, and there we find true happiness. Of course we need the basics of life; you know, food, clothing, shelter, but that’s mundane, that’s basic. What’s the point in having a palace and a thousand pair of shoes? We need love, compassion, majesty, radiance …” Jo’s hands are flailing. “Now that’s beauty.”
“Do you meditate then? Do you look within for true happiness?”
“When I work with clay, the world is most at peace.”
“Like a storm or an empty beach for me,” says Sid. “Would you say true happiness is a way of being rich?”
“Yes, in fact, I would,” Jo pushes her chair out and gets up. “But you know, I gotta check on my kid. Talk to you later, brother.”
###
Sid glances around the hall. The relatives are sitting at their tables or bunching around the photos and family tree. Others join in the cleanup. He wonders if Buddha and Jesus would’ve been good friends if ever they met. The Baha’is must have some prophet too; it could be a circle of three.
He spots Ralf talking away. He smiles to himself, cocks his jaw sideways, and decides to … why not … he’s on a roll. He walks over and speaks.
“Hey Ralf, are you rich?” he asks loudly. “I heard you were rich.”
The red of Ralf’s face deepens.
“Rich?” he repeats with mouth gaping. “Sid, let me tell you, I got a job, a mortgage and five kids to feed. I got every penny spent before I even see it. My pockets are empty … I got nothing in my wallet. That’s how rich I am. Come on let’s have a beer … I gotta tell you something ...”
“You know, Ralf …”
Uncle Francis comes by again, looking set and serious. “Come on Sidney, let’s get that Kaiser game going. Go round up Nick and Andrew. We gotta get that game finished.”
Sid smiles at Ralf, pointing over at Nick in the distance as he walks away. Nick stands with his two older sisters, listening.
“ … She felt so bad about not coming,” says Teresa.
Anna exclaims. “Well tell me just what else she said.”
“She was quite sincere, sister, maybe next time, she said. Why don’t we talk about a next time, wouldn’t that be an idea?”
“Yes, of course, yes, we will have another reunion.” Anna decides. “It’s about time she talked to us. She knows Andrew is here. We will just call her back.”
Auntie Teresa smiles tightly. “Or you know, we could send her something with Andrew. Maybe some cookies, some canned fruit …”
“She never should have taken up with that John – nothing good has come of it. But that girl was so stubborn. Yes, let’s send her a package.”
“I’m glad you agree then sister, where is Andrew right now?”
“There he is, Teresa,” Anna points out their nephew. They leave Sid and Uncle Nick.
Uncle Francis comes by on another circuit, looking frustrated.
“C’mon you guys.” He frowns. “Where’s that Andrew? Let’s get that game going.”
“I think Andy’s gonna be busy... ” Sid starts.
“Ahh jeez … well … let’s get your dad then.” Francis holds up the deck. “Hey Frank. Cum’on, you gotta play.”
“Yah, OK, as long as it’s a quick one,” says Frank. “We’re on stage pretty soon.”
They find a table to sit at.
“OK, new partner, new game. First Jack deals,” Francis calms down. “You get a moose tag last fall, Frank?”
“Yah, I got drawn for an antlered,” says Frank slowly. “Had a whitetail tag too … got an eight point buck.”
Francis flips the Jack of Clubs in front of himself. He smiles.
“Frank, let me tell you, I’m walking the ridge up at Cranberry Lake last fall, it’s the middle of the morning and snowing a bit … so it’s real quiet …” Francis grins. “So you bid eight Nick? I’ll take that eight, Spades is trump.” He lays down the Three of Spades. “… just a little wind from the north, and I come up on this set of tracks so fresh you can smell’em …”
Sid looks across the table at his partner, raising an eyebrow slightly. Uncle Nick nods slightly, knowing full well focus on the game is now essential. The story of the hunt will totally fill in all background soundscape.
Chapter 6
“It’s so great all you Mirchuks made it here,” says Frank from the stage. “We hope it’s a good time for all.”
The relatives sit kicked back in their chairs.
“I just want to make special mention of those who aren’t here. First of all, Harry, as you can see, didn’t make it. But I’m happy to announce that Lola just phoned today. And she hopes to make it next time,” he pauses. “Although we’ll have to have a rest from this time, first.” Frank smiles, rubbing his belly. A light chuckle sounds off the walls.
“So we have a few acts for the stage tonight, but before that, Andrew, we want to give you a special welcome – your first time to Sahiya Lake,” says Frank. “And Andrew isn’t shy; he’s agreed to come up to say a few words …”
Andy hops up on the stage, takes the microphone from Frank and turns to face the Mirchuk family.
“Well I was down at the club just the other day …” Andy takes a breath. “… That’s the Blue Marlin in Hollywood where I hang out – and I’m telling some friends I’m on my way to Sahiya Lake, Saskatchewan. And honestly, my friend Screemer asks if I can repeat that in English. He thinks I’m going somewhere in Asia.”
Light laughter ripples around the hall.
“So I tell him I’m going to my Mother’s family reunion,” he grins. “I want to let you know I feel very welcome – Sahiya Lake is fabulous.”
He walks across to the side of the stage, and, turning back, his grin fades as he looks back up at the family. “There’s something I just have to say … it’s just that … well, Lola was a part of this family, and I guess she sort of disappeared, and it’s been quite
a while now … things can get tough when it comes to reconnecting or just connecting, I know they are for Mother… they are for me.”
He wipes at the corners of his eyes as they fall to his shuffling foot. He paces back to the other end of the stage, then takes another deep breath.
“I just hope we can be one family again. ‘Cause I feel like… it’s just as if… well … it’s like coming home … look, I’m sorry.” He forces a crumpled smile, hands the microphone back to Frank, jumps down and walks quickly off towards the yellow door.
###
Sid watches closely as his cousin leaves the hall. He thinks back over that afternoon.
Returning from the swings at the beach, Sid had mingled with the most recent arrivals, helping introduce his California cousin. Outside after lunch, early afternoon rolled out as part of a spectacular summer day, it seemed an extended burst of almost magic. While Mother Nature held her breath, frisbees flew about the parking lot, and the outdoor hockey rink behind the hall, free of ice, doubled as a basketball court, while some sat around drinking beer – Andy was into all three sports.
Come mid-afternoon, Uncle Pete revealed his genius with a search-for-a-case-of-beer game. He hid the dozen out in the bush, and handing anyone who wanted to play a paper with coordinates. Each team got a GPS, the only way to search. Franco’s team with Andrew on it was most systematic, and they captured the box of beer under a pine branch a mile back just off a logging road.
Sid’s memories drift. After the search, Auntie Teresa surprised Sid as they grabbed refreshments back in the hall. She told him another parable.
There had been a widow back in Jesus’ time who came to the Temple.
Sid was drinking a cold ginger ale, feeling the afternoon sweat trickle down behind his ears from basketball. The temple, he recalled, was a place for making financial sacrifice to God, spiritual investment.
Jesus had pointed the widow out to his disciples, comparing her to some rich men who were also putting coins in the box. The disciples watched as when she put in two tiny coppers, the rich men openly dropped in several large coins. Jesus told them the widow gave more than the rich men.
“I don’t get it, Auntie. She didn’t put in more, she put in less.”