Founder's Day is always my favourite celebration in Hope Valley. The sun always seems to shine during the fair and my town is filled with more than the usual good will and happiness. Ma says there has always been a celebration at this time of year and tells me the story, the one I grew up with, of how my fathers showed off their strength for her—my birth father in a toe-to-toe tug of war and my adopted father with the High Striker. When she got to the last part, about Dr. Shepard finally winning the High Striker contest, she looked at my Dad the same way they always did that told me their love was a kind that was special.
This year is a bit different. Aunt Rosemary tried as hard as see could to get the rides and carousels I remembered from my childhood, but the depression has hit everyone in one way or another and she had told my mother that we would just have to do without the carousel this year. I don't mind, but Emerson is disappointed and Dad has had to pull out all his ridiculous jokes to make him smile even a little bit.
I sit at a table, eating the picnic lunch my mother has made, and am suddenly brought out of my reverie by the person that I had been waiting days to see—my big sister, Allie. Like Dad, Allie has been a part of my life as long as I can remember. She was adopted by Mom and Dad soon after they were married giving her, and me, a complete family and she has always been there for me. When I couldn't talk to Ma or Dad, I knew I could talk to Allie.
"Hi, Jacky," she says, coming up behind me, almost making me jump out of the seat, and gives me a hug.
"Allie, I am so glad you're home!" I say throwing my arms around her. We hold on to each other for a few minutes and I can tell she knows that I have something on my mind. "And, I am too old for that name you called me when I was little."
"Jack, what's up?" she says straight away. "I know you, little bro."
I smile, knowing that she does know something is up, but I'm not ready to tell her. Instead, I spy Dad getting ready to take a swing. "Look there's Ma, Dad and everyone else at the High Striker. There is no way Aunt Rosemary would let a Founder's Day go by without a striking contest after hearing how Dr. Shepard won the fishing pole for you all those years ago."
"Yeah, I'll never forget that first Founder's Day. I was so excited to have all these Hope Valley townsfolk trying to win a fishing pole for me. Dad tried twice; then Mr. Bouchard, who did even worse than Dad; and finally Dr. Shepard beat them both. Everyone was amazed. I was just happy to get my pole, but Mom thought it was pretty amusing. Dad and Mr. Bouchard were already vying for Mom's affection," she says, a smile on her face followed by a bout of laughter. "Come on, you're right. We have to see this."
She drags me and we join the crowd. Allie and I are, she liked to always remind me growing up, the luckiest two kids in the world. We had each lost one of our parents, but when Mom and her Uncle found each other, not only did they find the other half of their soul, but she was given a mother again and I would have a father. She was right, of course. But, she certainly stands out in our family. While me, my little sisters and brother seem to have characteristics close our parents, Allie is completely different, which Dad says comes completely from her mother, Colleen. She's the most honest person I know. Dad says she has an independence and out-spoken nature that only comes from his sister, but Ma says that it is also put to good due to his influence on her after her mother died. Either way, to me, she was the big sister who played with me, taught me to fish with Dad, found the best Christmas trees, dried my tears and answered my questions. I would always be content and feel safe with her by my side, just as I did when I was a boy.
Tonight everyone in our house is a ball of excitement. Between the Founder's Day fair and Allie's home-coming there is no shortage of lively conversation, especially from my usually calm younger siblings. Colleen and Abbie beg for stories of the latest fashions and goings-on in Cape Fullerton, and Emerson asks if she has brought him a new book, while at the same time she has shared her latest articles from the Cape Fullerton Times with our parents. I have an essay to write, but I can see my father glance at me. I know what he is telling me and I respond with my own expression so he knows what I be discussing with our Allie.
Later that evening, everything has calmed down and as I am sat in my room, ready to turn in and finishing the day by writing in my log book, (I will not call it a journal no matter what my mother and Allie say) something I have done since I was 10 years old. I hear the typewriter clanging downstairs and the faint conversation of my parents in between. I know that sound: the sound of my mother working on another book. I can see my father keep her company by sitting across from her, completing Mountie paperwork—it has been like this for a long time. I begin to write again and a soft knock interrupts my musings.
She comes in softly and sits on my bed. "Tell me, Jack."
"I want to be a Mountie," I inform her.
I try to read her face, but she is an expert bluffer, as Mr. Bouchard once told Dad to his chagrin. "What do Mom and Dad say?"
"I haven't told Ma, yet, and Dad supports me, but wants me to be sure I am simply not doing it because of him and my birth father."
"And, are you?"
"Am I…?"
"Doing this because of your fathers?"
"No. Well, maybe…yes. I don't know!" I shout out somewhat frustrated by her line of questioning. "No, but maybe that holds a sliver of my reasoning."
"Jacky, how many times have I told you we are the luckiest kids in the world?"
"Thousands." I roll my eyes at her.
"That is because of our parents. Uncle Nathan chose to raise me when my mother died and your mother chose me as her daughter when they married, just as Dad chose you as his son. We are lucky."
I shake my head. "I know. You have been telling me this for as long I can remember. What does that have to do with me wanting to be a Mountie?!"
"It means you have to trust in that. Look, Mom and I worried every time Dad went out of town for work. And, after what happened to your birth father, your mother had every reason to do so. Me, I was a kid who basically had no other family. My uncle wasn't only my guardian, he was my world so I was also weary when he left especially after the prisoner transfer shooting."
The Transfer Shooting, another story I had grown up with, so I didn't need her to continue. I immediately understood. "You have to tell her," she continued after a pausing briefly as if she relived it all again. "She won't like it and you'll probably have to list reasons why you've decided it, but if you know being a Mountie is what you want Mom will understand, eventually. Believe me."
"You really think so?"
"I know so." She flashed her crooked Allie smile to me. "I know what it is like to want to follow in your parents footsteps. Why do you think I've become a journalist? That is all because of Mom."
I look at her, somewhat shocked.
"Look, both Grandpa and Dad told me my mother loved to write. Mom is a writer. It only made sense to me to that writing would be in my future, one way or another."
"Nature and Nurture." The words that had filled my mind came out in almost a whisper.
"Nature and Nurture?"
"Yes. Writing is in your nature, from your mother you could say. And, Ma nurtured you to be a writer from her encouragement at home and being your teacher."
"Well, yes, you could say that. You are one smart young man, Jack Thornton. You will make a great Mountie someday and make your fathers, and mother, proud." She hugged me goodnight before quietly exiting my room towards her own. As always, Allie was in my corner and she understood where I had come from better than anyone. We were two of the luckiest kids in world.
My mind was settled and I was tired. It was time to turn out the light and prepare for a new day. I knew I would have to face my mother at some point, but I knew I wanted to get advice from another: an ex-Mountie, a retired Judge, and my Godfather. Bill Avery.