Читать книгу On the Goose - Josie Penny - Страница 14

My First Job

Keith was working as a civilian for the Canadian Armed Forces when we got married. Therefore, we did have an income, but it wasn’t enough to support us. There was so much to learn about finances. I hadn’t yet experienced that aspect of my life. Aside from the two years as a cook at the mission school in Cartwright, the only thing I’d ever done was domestic work at ten dollars a month. I gave some of it to my mom for the children. Or to buy them candy. Keith came home from work one day and suggested I should find a job. I was awestruck. I had a job caring for our newborn and our home! Why would he even suggest it? A week or so later he came bounding through the door.

“I was talking to somebody today and he mentioned that there was an opening for a cashier at the PX on the American base.”

“Whass a PX?”

“It’s a store where the Americans shop,” he said flippantly. As if I was supposed to know!

“So? What do you want me to do about it?” I asked, confused.

“Would you like to try it?”

“I don’t know. I never did anything like that before. What will I have to do?”

“Just stack shelves and work the cash register and stuff,” he replied.

I didn’t know anything about cash registers, or store clerks, or stocking shelves. I didn’t know how to express myself and was always fearful of ridicule. I was, however, taught to obey. Then fear engulfed me. I didn’t want to leave my baby with strangers.

“Who will care for our baby?” I asked.

“We’ll get somebody to come in,” he said. “The money will come in handy for our new addition I want to build.”

“What new addition? I like it just as it is,” I argued.

“No, it’ll be too small for us in a few years.” Keith said.

I lost the argument and I hadn’t any choice but to get someone to care for my three-month-old baby.

The very next day Keith drove me to the PX and I was hired on the spot. I can’t recall how and I don’t remember anything about an application or an interview. What was I to do? I didn’t get much sleep that night. I had no decent clothes to wear and I had no idea what was in fashion. When I was younger my sisters and I would squabble over garments from the rag-bag of clothes mom got as payment for her sewing. When I was eleven years old I earned ten dollars a month as a domestic, and I was then able to order my own clothing from the Eaton’s and the Simpsons-Sears catalogues. I prided myself in being one of best-dressed adolescents in my hometown. This was an entirely different situation. It required appropriate clothing and I was fearful my wardrobe would not measure up.

The next thing I remember, I was working in a huge department store for the American military. I didn’t start cash right away. They put me to work stocking and reorganizing shelves. I was quite comfortable there because I knew I was a good worker and organizer. Also, I was very intrigued about all the different things the Americans had available to them; there were hundreds of products I had never seen before! I thought they were all millionaires. I had no concept of lifestyles, culture, hobbies, or theatre. I hadn’t any concept of distance or space or anything about worldly goods and services that other human beings did. I was ignorant about everything.

They taught me how to count back change and I caught on quickly. I actually liked the challenge of it. I was then moved to the cashier’s cage and enjoyed it very much. I had been conditioned from early childhood to always do a good job. So it didn’t matter what I did, from that time on, my work ethics were hard-wired into my brain. It’s not surprising then that I did well on the job. My superiors praised me for my work, and my chest filled with pride with the kind words they bestowed on me. I was enjoying this experience. Life was pretty good to this point.

I thought of my wee baby at home and felt terribly guilty for leaving him. He was such a good boy and easy to care for. My babysitter seemed to be doing well with him, which gave me a little relief.

The first New Year’s Eve we experienced as a couple was a memorable one because I was too young to be permitted into the New Year’s party. Here I was, married with a child, a home, and all the responsibilities that go along with that, yet not permitted to attend the Grand New Year’s Eve Ball! I’d been hearing throughout the Christmas season that it was quite an occasion. Keith was so upset, and decided to do something about it. He went and visited the base commander. As a result, I got a special permit to attend.

I had never seen such hoopla in my entire life! There were fancy paper hats for everyone, lots of noisemakers, and in the ceiling there were hundreds of balloons tied into a mesh net. We had so much fun! Then at midnight all the balloons came floating down and everyone started hugging and kissing each other to the age-old song “Auld Lang Syne.” I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I loved to dance, and by the end of the night I was exhausted, but happy to be a part of the adult world. I felt grown up. I was beginning to feel joy in being a responsible young wife and mother, with family and friends; a true part of our closely knit community. This new mindset however, was about to change.

Shortly afterward, in January of 1962, I missed my period for the third month. There was no mistaking it, I was pregnant again already. I didn’t want another baby so soon. I was just beginning to settle into this new lifestyle; caring for my husband and baby son, enjoying my job and the challenges it gave me. But, I had to face the facts. Panic set in. Would I be like my mom and have thirteen children? Was there any way I could control the number of children I had? Was there any hope? However, I had to accept my plight and go on with my life. I can do this, I thought to myself. I can find a way…. There has to be some form of birth control out here and I will find it. In the meantime I would welcome this new baby with open arms. I brushed myself off and went back to work at the American military department store.

Then one day at work I was surrounded by several of the managing staff and told to report to the office.

“Josie, there seems to be a discrepancy in your cash.”

“Pardon me?” I said, stunned. What the hell was discrepancy?

“There is fifty dollars missing from your cash that we can’t account for and we have no choice but to let you go.”

“But Miss, I didn’t take any money. I swear!” I begged.

I could sense that I would get nowhere by begging and had no choice but to go home. I was shattered. The little confidence I had built in myself was gone and I shuffled around like a whipped puppy for days afterward. What had just happened? I knew I didn’t take the money. I’d learned as a little girl the consequences of stealing. With my mother it was a cruel beating with whatever she could find: a huge back-hander, a belt, a willow, or a piece of backline. So I would never do that!

Once I arrived home I didn’t know what to do with my anger. Normally it would take something drastic and over the top for me to lose all reason. I wasn’t one to hit walls or throw things, but this time I lost it. I was not only angry, I was embarrassed, and hurt. My fundamental values had been questioned, and how would I tell my husband I was accused of stealing? I paced the floor. I couldn’t breathe, all I could do was yell and scream. I was devastated. Keith felt so bad for me, but there was nothing he could do to ease my pain and frustration and that was that.

A few weeks later I got a phone call. On the other end of the phone was my boss from the PX.

“Josie, this is Gloria Hunt. It seems we have done you a grave injustice.”

“What?”

“We found the fifty dollars that we blamed you for stealing and we are so very sorry.”

Again, I was stunned and didn’t know what to say.

“We were very pleased with your quality of work and with our humble apologies we would like you to come back to work!”

“Back where?” I mumbled, flabbergasted. I could feel my anger rising.

“Here at the store,” she said so calmly that I wanted to shout and scream at her. I was losing it — again! I felt relief and sadness at the same time. I knew I hadn’t stolen the money, I knew I was innocent, but was too stunned to say anything to her. All I said was, “I’m going to have a baby.”