End of the Line

Chapter 27. A Boy in Sin City

Chapter Twenty-seven.

A Boy in Sin City. 

Mary rented a semi-furnished apartment situated on a small Montreal side street, just west of Crescent and south of Dorchester for the Benson family. It had two bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen that opened up on to a balcony overlooking the industrial blight of the Point. The apartment was conveniently close to Downtown, public transportation, and St. Stephen's Anglican Church. 

School started as usual the day after Labour Day. Jack was ten years old and had only failed one grade. He entered the local elementary school at the Grade 3 level. Bill's sixteenth birthday fell on September 16th. He had no desire to continue his schooling. This was probably just as well. It was unlikely that the High School of Montreal would accept a teenager with only Grade 3 Education.

Bill and his father attempted to enter the labour market. 

The City was in the depth of the depression with many unemployed. Jobs were available if you were willing to work for a pittance. Pop on one of his early Saturday morning strolls around the city discovered the Atwater market where farmers were hiring temporary workers to bring in the harvest. Even though Pop was still in robust health he thought such physical work was not suited for a 63 year old. However, as he made his way through the throng he came upon a truck with the words Girard, Paysageur emblazoned on the cab door. A man sat inside munching on a croissant. 

"Are you looking for a worker?" asked Pop. 

"Oui, êtes vous intéressez?" 

"Oui," replied Pop in his atrocious French. "Qu'est-ce que je fais?" He had no idea what the job entailed. Luckily, the man replied in English. 

"Leaf clearing, snow removal and garden maintenance. It's not full time. You get work when the situation arises. Winter can be pretty slow. Still interested?" 

Pop nodded. "What's the going rate?" he asked. 

"A buck an hour." 

"That's fine." 

"Good. Make sure to be at the corner of Atwater and Dorchester at seven on Monday morning. Me and my son will pick you up there. We have a big job in Westmount. C'est bien? 

"I'll be there." 

"Bon. Let's shake on it." 

As he shook the butter- coated hand Pop was thinking that maybe, just maybe, he might find another Foster estate. He had heard that Westmount was home to many wealthy people. It was not to be. Pop spent the remainder of his working days in the employ of Girard et fils. 

Under no circumstances would Bill accept farm work. His experiences in the Townships had killed any desire he might have had to work the land. He tried one of the employment agencies. His lack of experience and pitiful educational background proved quite a handicap. Eventually he accepted a low paying job on the assembly line of the Dominion Electrical Company. He had the mind-numbing task of "switch testing". 

Life in the apartment was chaotic to say the least. Ma Benson was frequently incapacitated and the boys showed no inclination or desire for cleaning, laundry, or shopping. Neither would Pop deign to do such women's work. Luckily, for them, dutiful daughter Mary showed up without fail every Saturday morning and spent the day bringing a semblance of order to the place. She even cooked them an evening meal before returning to her recently acquired lakeside home in Dorval.