The Little Shadows - By Marina Endicott Page 0,28

cards. They’d be broke in a week. In this snow it was unlikely they could get to Qu’Appelle so soon.

Mendel came out into the lobby, shut the door, and put the weight down. ‘I don’t know how you’re fixed, maybe you’re fine—but look—it’s nowhere near the money you’d get in burlesque, but I know Johnny Drawbank is hiring down in Helena, on the Ackerman circuit through Montana. I don’t mind tipping him onto you, you’re nice gals, a nice enough act, no reason you couldn’t shine down there. No guarantee, but I’d say it’s a good chance.’

Mama looked at him without gratitude. ‘I did the Death Trail, twenty years ago. I have seen the elephant down there, Mr. Mendel.’

He almost laughed. ‘It’s not so bad these days. No more storefronts. Theatres, every one a plush-seat house. They’re building brick, sprouting up all over. Keith’s is looking to purchase in Great Falls, that’s how far it’s come. You’d be with the same artistes for a couple of months, they tour together through there. Down into Montana, Idaho, the Dakotas, but not rough like it used to be. Half-pay weeks, I know—but it’d be good training and a good start.’

The girls had heard Mama’s account of the Death Trail, its privations and indignities. Mama had turned her face into Clover’s shoulder, pretending to comfort her, to try to regain composure.

Watching the brown swirl of her mother’s hair, trained into a respectable chignon, Aurora weighed the likelihood of Qu’Appelle, how it would be there when none of them knew Uncle Chum (and when Mama felt true hatred for Papa’s family, possibly with some cause). As far as Aurora could see at this point, the only alternative was to return to Calgary and try to get taken on as domestic servants. That might easily be a fate worse than the Death Trail, and anyway it would take too long. They’d be starving at a soup kitchen before then.

Now Aurora touched Mendel on his sleeve, and smiled into his melted-chocolate eyes, because he was kind, and because it would help that he liked her.

She said, ‘Yes, please, yes. If you could give us a note for Mr. Drawbank, that might ease our way.’

3.

The Death Trail

JANUARY–FEBRUARY 1912

The Parthenon, Helena, Montana

Apply to the manager of some obscure Vaudeville or moving picture house, and obtain an engagement, even if for a very small salary, and at the conclusion of the engagement you will find out your weak points, if any … Do not feel ashamed because you are compelled to make such a humble beginning, as a great many professional acts do this very same thing when they have something new and untried. This is what’s called breaking in an act, or hiding away.

FREDERIC LADELLE, HOW TO ENTER VAUDEVILLE

The beauty of the snow faded as they went south—blown by the constant wind, leaving fields bare beneath a light dusting of white. The world was the colour of their old dog Tray, dun and white. Bella’s eyes itched, remembering Tray. She and Papa had found him, lying by the tracks, as if asleep—and then so plainly not asleep, but gone. She hated the train they were on for Tray’s death, for Papa’s, even Harry’s, without rational cause. Then, more sensibly, she hated herself for not being better in the act so that they could have stayed in Fort Macleod for the whole week and gone with the company to Crowsnest, with Nando, who was her sweetheart now. She hated being cancelled when she thought of Nando but it also made her laugh secretly, to think of him. ‘I have a little cat, I’m very fond of that …’ she sang into her beret.

It would take all night to get to Montana. The girls sat propped in their seats, bolstered with packages and bandboxes, the trunk safe in the baggage-man’s care. Aurora tried to calculate how much he would expect for its return. Would a nickel be enough, for a straight journey without a change? If only she knew more about the ordinary business of being in the world, in cities and trains.

She was learning, though. She had gone straight up to Cleveland’s office after Mendel told them they were cancelled, to get their pay for the one night. Mrs. Cleveland was on her knees in the auditorium scrubbing again, but it would not take her long to scramble up and come after, so Aurora had made it quick: ‘Only the one night, we’ll take $30.’

Her upright bearing, or her

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