Halyna cried when she heard this. They were already betrothed.
At the time I didn’t understand, but now I know why he went. He was seventeen years old when he died, but he was trying to save up enough money for him and Halyna to get to Canada before he was forced into the Austrian army.
Oy, Dear Diary! If you only knew how many young men from our village had already died while fighting for Austria, you would understand. Volodymyr had only a few years left. He had to earn the money and escape with Halyna before he turned twenty-one.
Back then I thought that Germany was a good place to make money, but when Volodymyr came home once after being there the first month, his skin was so black that no amount of scrubbing could make him clean. When he was drying himself off, I saw a greenish purple bruise that was so large it covered the whole bottom of his back. He laughed at me when I asked him about it. “It is hard work in the coal mines,” he said, “but look at what they pay me!” His wad of German marks was thicker than my finger. Volodymyr said that if he worked in the mines for a year, he would have enough to pay our debt and enough left over so that he and Halyna could move to Canada. It seemed too good to be true, and it was.
My dear Volodymyr toiled for eight long months. He sent most of the money home and Tato was thrilled. Mama was worried, and so was Halyna. She told me she would rather be poor her whole life and married to Volodymyr, than a rich widow. As it turned out, she didn’t get to be either. There was a cave-in, and many men died, including dear Volodymyr. When his body was sent home for burial, Mama wouldn’t let me see it.
I miss him so much.
Tato gave some of Volodymyr’s money to Halyna. She didn’t want it, but Tato insisted. He paid off part of our debt, too, and then he used the rest to buy his passage to Canada.
Sunday, May 24, 1914
Everyone is still asleep. Mama will be getting us all up shortly so that we can go to church. I don’t know whether Tato will come or not.
Later
Mykola has fallen in love with the flash cards. He doesn’t use them to learn English letters anymore (he knows them already). He builds houses with them. He built a tower that was six cards high and I don’t know how many cards wide. It was amazing! Then Tato opened the door and the wind knocked them all down.
Monday, May 25, 1914
I went to the forest yesterday with Mary! It wasn’t really a forest. It was more like a lord’s manor with a big yard and trees.
We had to cross the train tracks, go all the way past Wellington Street and down Fortune Street to get to it. The manor is huge. It is made of grey stone and has many windows. It even has windows in the roof! Mary says that it is not a lord’s manor. It is called St. Gabriel House and was built about three hundred years ago for girls who came to Canada to find husbands. Such a long way to go for husbands! I don’t know what they are using it for now, but there were people inside, so Mary and I tiptoed around.
In the wild area with trees, there were herbs growing. They look similar to what Mama would dry and make a medicine with. One of the plants looks like feverfew. It isn’t in bloom yet so I can’t be sure. I picked a bit and showed Mama. She says once it blooms she’ll know for sure but she thinks it is feverfew. It would be wonderful to find feverfew for Baba’s leg …
Wednesday, May 27, 1914, after school
Dear Diary, by the time lights are out and I finally have a moment to myself, I am so tired that I fall asleep before I know it.
Maureen came to my house today. I took her up to my roof and we played with Mykola for a while. It was so nice to see her happy for a change.
Miss Boyko thinks that I am ready to write my English exam. I would be on top of the world if I passed! I showed Maureen the flash cards that Mary gave me and she seems to enjoy testing me with them. Also, when we walk home from school, she corrects my accent when I read the street and store signs.
I am not worried about the Ukrainian exams.
Something else —
Now that I walk home with Maureen, that man doesn’t bother us so much. If he is leaning on his doorstep when we pass, we both hold our chins up and look him in the face and it is almost as if he is afraid of us! Just goes to show that two is better than one.
Thursday, May 28, 1914, after school
Miss Boyko is teaching us English by reading us stories from the newspaper. There is a group of women called “Suffragettes.” I thought that meant they wanted to suffer, but “suffrage” is different than “suffer.” It means “vote.” These women want to vote. They don’t want all women to be able to vote, just white women with property.
I asked Miss Boyko if all men could vote in Canada and she said no. Only white men can vote.
“Who is white?” I asked. (The only white people I have ever seen are those ladies with too much powder on their faces!)
Miss Boyko explained that “white” means different things in different cities and provinces and that it is all very confusing. Men who have been in Canada for a certain amount of time can become what she called “naturalized British subjects” and can vote. She says that immigrants from Europe and Russia can do this if they’ve been here long enough. Immigrants from Britain can vote right away. Chinese and Japanese men can’t vote no matter how long they have been in Canada, and Indian men can’t vote even though they have been here longer than everyone else.
Then Mary asked, “What about Ukrainians?”
Miss Boyko said, “A Ukrainian man may vote if he has been here long enough to become a naturalized British subject.”
This is all very strange. In the old country, all men can vote no matter who they are. Even peasant men can vote. Why are those Suffragettes just interested in giving the vote to women like themselves? What about all the other people?
Later
When I got home from school, our whole flat smelled like cabbage. It is hard for Baba to keep the house fresh when we only have one window, and especially on cabbage-roll days. Mykola was waiting for me, so we went up to the roof. The fresh air was glorious. I set Mykola on my shoulders and he waved as a grand steamer headed out towards the ocean.
Stefan came by and we played some ball. I told him about the Suffragettes and he told me that the Suffragettes in England are so rude that they stormed the king’s palace. Deep down, I know the Suffragettes only want to help white women, but it gets me mad when boys say bad things about girls. I told Stefan that I didn’t believe him. He turned and left without saying another word. I know it was mean to say, but it made me feel good to see him angry.
In a few minutes he came back with a newspaper. Sure enough, there was an article about Mrs. Sylvia Pankhurst in London, England. She and her friends had stormed Buckingham Palace. They also slashed five masterpieces in the National Gallery.
“How can you give votes to people like that?” said Stefan. He said to do it would cause anarchy.
I don’t know what anarchy means but I didn’t want to let Stefan know that, so I just looked him in the eyes and shouted, “No it won’t.”
While we were arguing, Mykola wandered right over to the edge and was dropping twigs over the side. My heart was in my mouth when I realized it. I crept up behind him and grabbed him by the waist quickly and pulled him to safety.
That’s what I get for arguing with Stefan. I should know better by now.