GROWING UP WITH JACKY

Chapter 2

The next time I saw Jacky was at the Tim Horton’s downtown.  He was sitting at a table guarding a long-empty cup of Saturday morning coffee and looking brighter and more sober than I’d seen him in a long time.  “Can I buy you another one, Jacky?” I asked him.  As I sat down and slid the large double-double across the table to him, he said: “Remember school in Palmer’s Harbour?”  And away he went…

“I went to school up west because I had to.  Annie told me I had to go so I didn’t end up stupid like her and Black Tony.  But people made fun of us anyway, because we were so poor”, said Jacky with touch of anger in his voice.  “What I didn’t know was that my father’s family was related to the Provosts.  I met an old lady in Charlottetown a few years ago, and she told me that my grandmother Allain’s mother was a Provost.  That name didn’t mean anythin’ to me, but the woman told me that the Provosts were black people.  Then I understood.  Guess we know where the frizzy hair comes from, eh!”

“Anyways, I had a good teacher in the little school and I did pretty good.  I even came first in my class in Grade 3”, said Jacky.  “My mother couldn’t believe it, and she went right to the school with my report card to make sure I hadn’t cheated.  The teacher told her I could learn, and that I was one of the smartest in the school.  Imagine!” he said with a wry grin.  “Before I got through Grade 4 though, Annie had got sick and I had to spend more time lookin’ after things around home, and I kind of lost interest in school.” 

“So when I got to Palmer’s Harbour, I figured I’d get right back into it.  I’d passed Grade 4 in Summerside, and although I was a year older than the rest of the kids, I was kind of excited about Grade 5”, he said.  “Eveline marched us through the Harbour and up the hill to the school like we were a buncha air cadets, and she told the teacher she better take good care of us or she’d never hear the end of it.  That was a good way to start the year, eh!  Joey and me had brand new combination overalls on.  Except for the Pineaus who lived on a pig farm even farther out of the village than we did, we were the only ones with combination overalls.  Right then, I knew we were in trouble,” said Jacky.

I remembered the first day Eveline and her brood landed on the doorstep of the old two-room French school.  The two teachers, Mme. Bourgeois and Mlle. Poirier, were there to welcome all the kids, and me and the other Grade 5s were leaning against the fence when Eveline marched up to Mme. Bourgeois and said her piece.  We noticed right away that the three welfare kids carried their lunches in Crisco Shortening cans, while Joe and Eveline’s kids had brand new plastic lunch boxes like the rest of us.  We picked up on the difference in clothes, too.  As soon as Eveline had turned on her heel, Jean marched over to us, looking cocky as usual.

Jean was a year older than the rest of us, and because he’d flunked Grade 5 he was back for another year.  Being older, he figured he’d show us right away who was going to be boss.  “That damn kid from the welfare has the same name as me, ‘Jean’.  So now Eveline calls him ‘Jacky’.  I’m tired of havin’ a girl’s name so I’m changin’ mine to Johnny.  If any of you calls me Jean agin, I’ll knock your friggin’ teeth out,” he snarled.  “Oh boy”, I thought, this year’s getting off to a great start!

“I stayed close to Joey and Betty and made sure they got settled in alright, and I told Mlle. Poirier to let me know if they needed me for anythin’”, said Jacky.  “She was real nice, and she told me to go over to the grande école and find my desk.  At noon recess, I found the little ones.  It was a nice day and we sat out in the yard with our Crisco buckets.  We got out our sandwiches, and right away we saw ours were different.  Everybody except the Pineaus and us had peanut butter or jam on bought bread, and we had lobster paste or homemade bread.  Jesus, I thought, here we go again!” growled Jacky.  “Another reason to get teased, as if we didn’t have enough already!”

Things were no different in 1963 than they are today.  Kids are kids, and kids can be cruel, and that’s just the way it was.  After all, we were from the Harbour!  The kids who came to school on the bus were different, just like the Barriaults and the other kids from the welfare.  Three sisters had arrived the year before, sent by the welfare from the eastern end of the Island.  They’d been adopted by a nice couple who didn’t have children of their own.  I still remember the day they arrived because they’d moved in right next door.  The oldest one would hardly open her mouth to talk the first day, and I couldn’t get her to smile no matter how hard I tried.  It turned out she’d lost her front teeth.  Although we became friends, she never told me how she lost them.  She and her sisters were luckier than the Barriault kids.  Jacky had to wait a whole year before he got his rotten teeth pulled and false teeth put in their place.

“I was glad when it came time to play ball in the school yard”, Jacky continued.  “I couldn’t wait to get my hands on that nice new bat of Jean-Guy’s.  He and his brother always had the best of everythin’.  I never had a bat or glove of my own, but I’d seen them in Summerside when I watched the town kids play baseball through the fence at Queen Elizabeth Park.  They even let me play a couple of times when they were practicin’, and I got pretty good.”

“Anyways, the first day of school, I played outfield bare-handed, and I caught a long fly ball the first time we were in the field.  When my turn came to bat, I hit the first pitch over the fence right into Mrs. Cyril’s yard.  That friggin’ ball rolled all the way down to the brook, and they never found it!  I can still see Jean-Guy’s face as I rounded first base in my combination overalls.  He thought I was like the kids from the back settlement and I didn’t know how to play.  I sure showed him!” said Jacky proudly.

“Playin’ ball was my favourite part of school,” said Jacky.  “We never had enough money for hockey equipment, although Johnny had the best of everythin', so I borrowed skates and gave the girls a twirl on the pond any chance I got.  Once the girls at school found out I could play ball, I got a little more popular.  I guess maybe some of them might of felt sorry for me because I was an orphan and all, and I had to look after the little ones”, he said.  “In Grade 6, somethin’ in me woke up and, from then on, I got real interested in the girls!  I remember one time when we were playin’ kick-the-can over at Abel’s.  I was hidin’ in the long grass with Marie.  She was fourteen and she was keepin’ house at Mme. Bourgeois’.  I got my hand up under her shirt before she slapped me!” Jacky said with that big grin.  “I was hooked then, boy.”

“Once I hit thirteen, I didn’t have much interest in school any more.  Mme. Bourgeois tried her best but there were just too many things goin’ on in my head.  Eveline was gettin’ on my nerves more and more, and it was gettin’ harder for me to fit in at home.  I was gettin’ tired of doing all the shit jobs.  You wouldn’t believe this, but I had to empty the piss pots in the bécosse every mornin’ for the first year I was there until the government paid for Joe and Eveline to put in the bathroom.  I think it had somethin' to do with Joe bein' a veteran.  And then, Joey and Betty got adopted by those people in Kensington, and I was alone,” he lamented.  “I made it through Grade 5 and 6 OK, but by the time I got to Grade 7, I’d just about had it.  I didn’t want to go to the high school and I was gettin’ tired of havin’ no money.  I just wanted to get the hell out of the Harbour and be on my own for once.  Like Black Tony, I guess.”

By that time, the coffee was gone and I could see Jacky’s hands were beginning to shake.  He hadn’t had a drink yet and it was nearly eleven o’clock.  He told me that he had to go see a friend about a “little job”.  I didn’t ask what the job was, figuring it was best to just leave well enough alone.  He pushed back his chair, flashed that familiar grin at me and looked back as he walked toward the door: “See ya’ later, buddy!”