Take off your hat, I want to stand up.

Part 21: Papa Jourdie

Chapter 21: Papa Jourdie.

Papa Jourdie

We all knew him as Papa, really we did not know whose Papa he was or where his children were, they may have been there, but then again I think they were largely absent, ashamed or embarrassed for their dear, sweet, old man.

Papa stood a few inches shorter than the average man. He walked a few strides off, on bent, bow- legged knees, shuffle like, steps that tended to kick up dust; a mild, slow motion cowboy walk, in cowboy boots. The boots had a fancy bronze tip at the toe and etched scrolling along the sides, they had never seen polish, but worked fine for stomping on horse droppings or clumps of hay. Papa was a rough hewed salty sailor of an old west cowboy. He used to flood the barn floor with three feet of ice in the winter and spend the next summer cutting out big chunks of straw laden ice to sell to the cabin owners that had ice box fridges. These icebox fridges did a fine job of keeping the things solid in a semi-permanent state of frozen for most of the summers hottest days. Papa would  cut and load the ice onto his buckboard hay wagon, hitch up his team of fine nay Belgians and trod off down the lane, making his rounds and collecting the cash. Papa always had a fresh wad of money perched in the top right hand corner of his coloured Western shirt with the snap buttons. You did not talk to Papa Jourdie directly like a friend to a friend or a brother to a sister, rather you mostly got out of his way as he went about his business. You could say he was all about business and tending to his animals, certainly a half dozen barn cats, three or four dogs, a mad as all get out donkey, four very large, beautiful Belgians, a few cows, numerous squeaking chickens, two feuding roosters, and several for hire nags with sway backs and nasty dispositions.

Papa was a legend, he accepted this status with reluctance and a snarl. I for the life of me cannot recall Papa putting more than three words together or use a whole English language sentence, strange he could communicate on a common level using a series of eye actions, hand gestures, grunts and groans, seemed pretty effective at the time

It was hot, dry, lazy blue sky kind of beach day, the type of day you see once maybe twice in a long summer, it was the perfect Regina Beach day. Ev had a look in her eye and a notion on her face, lets go horseback riding today, I really would like to ride a,horse it has been years since I have ridden a horse. Really? I never heard her mention a horse let alone the though of her riding a horse was a new one to me, I looked in disbelief as she rallied the troops, cool as she could muster, she invited us, it will be fun. Fun, I hardly think so, but my mom swept you up into her person, mesmerized cajoled and won you over with her pretty girl coquettish smile, flashing brown eyes and bewitching spirit of adventure, sure lets go, perhaps we will go and see then turn back as reason settle in to replace hazard. Parents have a way of consuming issues with the phrases just try it, or we will see. What does that mean, we will see it is so desperate for a frame of reference that it works ninety- nine per cent of the time, we will see, indeed.

We walked to the barn as it was a five minute walk, passed old Mr. Hamilton's place. He was a quiet fellow who always looked cranky. I was friends with his youngest boy, junior. While across the dirt intersection was the barn.

Mom said hello Papa Jourdie like he was family, Papa said hi Ev. I was always surprised when my mom knew people outside of the family circle, let alone having them cotton around her as though they were long time friends. Ev had a way with people, she treated everyone the same, she was an equal opportunity friend ship maker. We want to rent some of your horses, take them for a trail ride, will that be O.K. I thought he would say no, he said Kay. I felt dread.