Page 73 of Years in the Making

“It’s like the Von Trapp kids, but a northern Ontario edition,” Teddy murmurs from beside me. I have no idea when he moved, but I am far too enamored with the sight in front of me to care.

“Cornelia?” the woman says as she nears.

“Cornelia?” Teddy chuckles.

I elbow him before stepping forward and holding out my hand. “Margaret?”

“Only my husband called me Margaret, and that oldbastard took that name to the grave with him six years ago. It’s Midge.”

“Midge,” I say, shaking her much rougher hand. “Please call me Nellie. Only my parents and people who have access to my government ID call me Cornelia.”

“Nellie.” Midge smiles warmly at me before turning her attention to Teddy. “And who’s the wiener?”

I look up at Teddy, horrified, only to realize he’s holding Kevin. “This is Kevin,” Teddy says easily.

“And you handle the wiener?” Midge asks, completely straight-faced.

“I am the wiener handler, yes,” he replies, equally straight-faced.

“Midge.” She holds her hand out, and Teddy shifts Kevin so he can take it.

“Teddy.”

“Well,” Midge says, relaxing her stance and glancing back at the kids, who have remained in single file. “I guess we should get down to business. These are the majority of the kids in town.” She gestures behind her, and I admit, I’m a bit disappointed when each kid doesn’t step forward and introduce themself in song.

“Just seven?”

“Seven of the twelve permanent minors in town. There are a few more who come up at different times during the year. These happen to be my grandchildren. My sons and their wives work for the mill so the kids spend most of their time with me. I’m grandma as well as their teacher. Taught for thirty-five years down in Windsor before we moved up here to be closer to the kids and grandkids.”

“Wow, that’s dedication,” I say, amazed by someone’s willingness to move from a city to a place with a gas station-liquor store-taxidermist combo.

“That’s love.” Midge smiles up at us, her eyes dancing between Teddy and me. “Grumpy Al’s got the plans all set up in the office.” She starts to walk towards the tiny building, and it takes a second before my feet begin to follow her.

“Should—ah, the kids, Midge?”

“Hmm?” She turns mid-stride and waves us off. “They’ll find something to do. Devon,” she yells, and I watch a blond boy peek around a taller boy. “No roadkill today. If you see something, leave it for the crows.”

“What if—”

“Not even if it’s a saber-tooth tiger young man,” she calls back as she continues her walk. “Boy’s got an unhealthy love of turning dead things into decor,” she mutters, shaking her head. “Not saying there’s no future in it, but there’s no future in any more glass-eyed raccoons in my living room, that’s for certain.”

Teddy slows his stride to match it with hers. “To be fair,” Teddy says, “if he found a saber-tooth tiger, I’d suggest that be an exception to the rule.”

“I bet you would,” Midge replies, her gaze assessing as it goes from the top of his head to his shoes before she pushes into the building. “Al, you in here?”

“Goddamn, Magpie, you don’t gotta shout. I’m not deaf yet. You keep that up, though, and it won’t be long.” A very tall, very gangly man rises from behind the small counter that houses an old cash register, chocolate bars, gum, a stack of pamphlets, bug and bear spray, and a sign that says LIVE BAIT. “Ah.” His brown eyes crinkle with a smile when he sees us. “You must be the book people.”

“Librarians, Al,” Midge says, leaning against the counter and rolling her eyes. “This is Nellie, the wiener is Kevin, and the one holding the wiener is Teddy.”

“George,” Al introduces himself.

I look at Teddy who just shrugs. “Oh, so not Al?” I clarify,reaching out to take his hand.

Al or George laughs softly and looks down at Midge with an expression I can’t quite read. “Only Magpie calls me Al.”

“Okay, George it is.”

“Now I know you had a plan for where they could set up, but I was thinking maybe I should look at it before they do,” Midge says, very business-like.

---