Muted noises woke Jamie as he pulled himself from a vivid dream. It took a moment to orient himself, then he shook off the drowsiness and pulled back the cover. He splashed his face and dressed in a familiar routine, then visited the back privy.
Spring was upon them again. The winter of 1880-81 passed like many before, in a pattern of seasons that carved themselves into Jamie’s life. His sister, Mary, animated with the antics of Mae Alice, was expecting her second child in the summer. Soon, she would leave Montreal. Her husband, William, accepted a position in Lansing, Michigan. She has made a good life. I guess we are all grown up now.
Jamie devoured the oatmeal laid out for his breakfast, then left the house. The morning air alternated between crisp and chill against his cheeks to the early warmth from the intense glow of the rising sun. Spring was forcing everything to life.
Eager to get to work Jamie picked up his pace, then darted down the alleyway to the rear entrance. Inside, the dusty room was dimly lit and carried the same earthy smell of Uncle Willie’s store room. Jamie removed his cap and coat and exchanged them for his apron hanging by the door. The morning flew by as Jamie, consumed with a desire to prove himself, worked with determination. By lunchtime he felt the growing hunger in his belly. “Sir, if it suits you, I’ll pop out now for a bite.” Jamie looked over at the man in charge.
“Try to be quick, James. I have lots for you to do before we close up today.”
Jamie nodded, then went to the back to retrieve his things. He exited to the back, then worked his way onto the main street. He kept his head low as his thoughts tumbled through his brain and he hummed a pleasant melody.
“Jamie Gillespie? Is that you?”
Jamie looked up. “Well, if it isn’t Freddie Barwick,” he chuckled. “I haven’t seen you since our last day of class!” He had a great deal of empathy for Freddie and his older brother Oliver. They attended the same school where their father, Jamie’s headmaster, dropped dead while teaching his lesson.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Actually, I’m off for a bite of lunch.” Jamie replied.
Freddie shook his head. “No, I don’t mean right now. I heard you went to New York to study the piano business!”
“Oh, yes.” Jamie faced his friend. “That, Freddie, is another story.”
Freddie stared back at his friend. His nod suggested, “Tell me more.”
Jamie did not like to talk about his return to Montreal. “Well, I started with a keen desire, Freddie. I was sure that was my path. One day, I just realized it wasn’t right. I had enough. I hung up my apron and left the place. As far as I know, that apron is still hanging by that door. Listen, I have to get my lunch and head back to work.”
“I understand. Would you like to meet up later? You know, I am also trying to decide my path. I’d like to hear more.”
“There’s not so much to know, but I would sure like to see you, Freddie. I finish up at the store around seven.”
The men agreed. As Jamie continued, he thought back. It’s been one year, almost to the day. I remember so well how it all started.
The memory of the rumbling engine stirred his recollection. He made his way back to the store, recalling the wonder he experienced as a new world unfolded the further south he travelled. He could still hear the clacking of the wheels, and the semi-lucid trance he felt from the rhythmic jostle of the carriage. The flickering images caused by the sunlight, as it flashed through the web of tree branches, played in his mind.
Jamie met up with Freddie that evening.
Freddie understood Jamie was reluctant to discuss why he had returned, so he asked Jamie about the train trip.
“What a splendid adventure you must have had, Jamie. How I long to do a train voyage.” Still such a novelty, Freddie could only imagine such a trip.
“It was the highlight of my entire experience. We departed early in the morning. Montreal is a pretty sight, especially at that time of day; to see the river from the vantage point of the Great Victoria Bridge is something I will always remember.“
“What’s it like over the border?”
“The train crossed into the United States at Rousse’s Point. Their forests look the same as ours. The first proper town we came across was Plattsburg. It’s nothing like Montreal. The same goes for Ticonderoga. Doesn’t appear to be much going on there. You know those towns are small.
“I must admit, I found the train voyage one of the best experiences in my life – so far.” Jamie chuckled. When you hear the whistle, then ‘All aboard. Next stop, Troy. Troy, New York, next stop,’ Jamie mimicked the conductor and shook his head in disbelief of his own good fortune. “You know Freddie. That’s an exciting moment.”
Freddie stared at his friend, mesmerized by his tale. Sensing the opening, Freddie probed further. “Why did you come back, Jamie? Everyone said you were adamant about your decision to take on this piano tuning apprenticeship.”
Jamie’s mood became sombre and he shifted his weight. He glanced at Freddie, then looked over at the floor. Distracted, he ran his fingers through his hair. Then he clasped his hands and set them on the table. “There’s not much telling in this tale. I love music. I loved my pa. He talked so much about me following him in his career, I came to believe it was my path. Things happened quickly. Even my Uncle Willie couldn’t make me see otherwise. But, once I arrived there, I couldn’t find any joy in the work.” Jamie inhaled and blew a long sigh, releasing the plug on his pent up guilt. “It just wasn’t for me; I knew I had made the wrong choice. My granny always taught me – best to own up to my mistakes, so I came back. Now, I am working at a different grocer to pay back my uncles for the money they put towards my future. Take your time, Freddie. Best to take your time before choosing your path.”
Author’s Note: This section of the story has been rolling about in my mind for weeks. The first draft was a struggle as I searched for a plausible scenario. Let me remind you, as I had to remind myself, I am writing Creative Non-Fiction. This means I promise to use known facts to tell James Gillespie’s story. To keep the tale interesting, I am permitted to flesh out his character traits as I see them, add dialogue, and create a plot line based on factual elements and my research into the social history of the time.
Today’s chapter is grounded in several pieces of information including a piece of paper written out by my great-grandfather, James, listing the ‘Places That I Lived.’ The final entry reads, “April, 1880 – Went to New York to learn the piano business.”
Other hints included, the 1881 Census taken in April, showing James Gillespie, grocer, living as a boarder in the Saint Lawrence Ward, Montreal ,and the 1881 Lovell’s Directory listing of J.F. Gillespie, grocer, residing at 139 St. George Street, Montreal.
The story I heard many times from my mother’s brother, Harvey, was a driving element. Uncle Harvey was the patriarch of the Gillespie family for the last twenty years. He left us last fall, but not before telling me many family stories, and sharing a great deal of memorabilia. He shared his memories of walking with his Grandpa Gillespie by the railway tracks. A favourite re-telling included the tale of going to New York to learn the piano business to find this was not for him. “I hung up my apron and left the place. As far as I know that apron could still be hanging there.”
I began by trying to recreate the journey to New York, but I had too many variables. Was it the state of New York or the big city? Did he go as a formal apprentice or some other arrangement? Where did he stay? How did he get there? Where did the money come from? How did he get back? How long did he stay?
I reached out to my cousins to see if they had any additional information. Lots of stories were shared back and forth. That was amazing, but nothing that solved this mystery.
This chapter evolved after a conversation with my daughter. I wish to acknowledge her great suggestion. She gave me the idea to share this information in a flashback. I hope it works for you. Thank you Jennifer.
Family Profiles 
The flashback worked. I loved your careful descriptions of Jamie’s work morning, then popping out to lunch, without giving away that he worked at a grocer until the very last paragraph. Beautifully done.
Well I finally caught up to read it!
It worked so well. Great chapter Mom.