~ 60 ~

Sunday, April 18th Port Alberni, BC

Harry was amazed by all that had happened over the last eight months, but not surprised. Over three hundred men and women that had been idle for a long time were now working steadily and, he’d been told, putting the money away. Some of them would stay on with Hank MacDougall, but others had different dreams. He chuckled as he thought back to old Simon Begay working as a flagman with the pipe crew as it passed near the Reserve. Simon had hollered to him, "Hey Harry! Looks like Mary gets to keep her teeth!" Simon’s story had made the rounds several times now; it had become the code-words for those in the loop. No more ‘chewing skins’ meant a radical change was in store for them. They were too far past the option of going back to a traditional lifestyle, although there were some younger ones that will probably try that, Harry thought, and last about a week.

He was drinking his second cup of coffee of the morning when Wilma came smiling through the front door. "Hey Gramps." She walked to the stove and poured herself a cup. "Have you decided yet?"

"Not even a ‘good morning’ first?" he growled at her, avoiding her question. She saw through it, smiled even brighter and kissed his forehead. They walked out through the kitchen door and sat down on the lawn chairs under the Arbutus. There had been little time for chess, for either of them, over the winter.

Harry had always been someone their people could turn to, and he was pleased to be able to help, but this was much different. True, he had been energised by the changes and opportunities now in front of so many, and true, they will need a representative at times perhaps, but this?

He sipped on his coffee and studied the chessboard, still in the middle of the game he’d started yesterday with Debbie from the New Moon. She was coming along nicely, he thought, but still had much to learn.

Someone else can teach her. Harry would shoulder this, for them all. He looked at Wilma. "Tell them I accept."