Excerpt

I pull on my boots, grab my overcoat and holler, Hey Oscar, come on, the men are out on the lake already.

Oscar rushes past me, down the stairs and is out the door like a house afire. I guess everyone heard me call my brother because now I hear, Wait for me. Im comin. I heard it shouted from several directions and just my luck, it was the little ones.

Then, Mother calls, Dont you children get in the way. Ernest, its up to you to keep an eye on the children so they dont get near the openings in the ice.

Aw, Mother, do they have to go?

They want to see too. You just watch they dont stray.

Floreanna and three of the younger cousins come over to me. I have to laugh at them, in spite of myself. They walk like wooden dolls. Three year old Pierre takes my hand, more to keep from falling than anything else. He is so bundled up he only wobbles. He has on two pair of leggings and a scarf wrapped twice around his face and hat. He must have at least two sweaters beneath his jacket and walks as stiffly as though he were rolled in a blanket.

Just as I pick him up to go out, Pierre squeals, I gotta wee-wee.

I undo him and take him up to the commode and he sprinkles all of three drops. I am angry and kind of rough when I bundle him up again. He cries and Mother hears.

Ernest, whats wrong with Pierre?

Nothing, cant someone else watch him. Im missing everything?

Ernest, do I have to come in there and explain?

No, Mother.

We head out the door and I put him on the ground with just a little push. Pierre falls in the snow and laughs. I feel bad I acted mean after all hes only a little kid. Pierre struggles valiantly as we walk through the snow to the lake ice. His first step on the ice and down he goes. I grab his arm and pull him up. Two more steps and he is down again. The men have already got the first ice block on the cutter, so I pick up Pierre and carry him knowing that minding this brood is my fate today.

There are about fifteen men and five of the older boys at work. Patrick O Leary, the chauffer, seems to be in charge. The men from other houses share in the harvest. First, one man draws a large square on the ice, and then my cousin leads the team of horses pulling a tool with metal points that dig deep lines into and across the ice. It looks like a big chess board. Right now everyone is using picks to deepen the grooves. After the first few pieces are out, they begin to wedge and separate the blocks. Some of the men use a saw with deep points to cut the blocks. Two fellows guide the ice chunks as they float them to the sledge. You can see how they lift the blocks on to it with that pulley. After the ice is stacked, the horses will draw the sledge to the area near the cellar door. Those ice blocks are really heavy.

Above the wet scarf, Pierre is red faced and shivering. I want my mama, he cries, Im cold.

Just wait awhile, we just got here. I dont feel like dragging him back to the house and missing the excitement.

He begins to whimper and I try to warm him a little by holding him close to me under my coat.

I want my mama!

Does anyone else want to go inside? I shout. Im only making this trip once.

There is no response and Pierres squeals are getting pretty loud, so I start back toward the house with the little guy in tow, leaving the others to watch the ice harvest.

As soon as Im inside the door, I shout, Somebody, come get Pierre. Hes cold and Im going back outside. Bye.

I slam the door hard so the women know I have left. I notice a lot of commotion down at the lakefront and I run toward the crowd on the edge of the lake.

I rush toward my sister, but I dont see my other two charges, What happened, Floreanna?

One of the young ones went out where she shouldnt be and slipped into the lake.

Who was it? Dear God, dont let it be one I was supposed to be watching! Dog gone it, I had to take Pierre in. Lets go see. I hope whoever it is they are alright.

Someone in the water lifts an unconscious child up to the waiting arms of Uncle Ambroise. He and another man take off at full speed for the house with the dripping youngster.

There is still a lot happening on the lake. The man in the water hasnt come out yet. I dont know which way to go. I want to know who the child is, but I know the women will not let me near, so I think Ill go see who the hero is. He isnt out yet! He must be freezing cold. The men are frantically searching the ice on their hands and knees, and then I see why. Near the shore I see a face beneath the ice! It is the most fearsome thing I have ever seen. The mouth and eyes are open, but it is me that screams. Someone pushes me aside and I fall. The men start chopping a hole near the face using a long pointed tool.

Thank God the ice is softer and not as thick here, Patrick OLeary shouts.

Father hollers, Is he alive?

I dont know, says Mister OLeary. There are bubbles rising to the air vent. Hurry! Hurry! Break through the ice.

All the men work as fast as they can and at last the ice cracks with a great noise.

Mister OLeary goes to the section of the ice closest to the mans head. He shouts, Get your tools into the crack. Wedge the ice until its looseGood, all-right now; everyone lift and push the ice to the other side. Count: one, two, three and push. Its moving, and again, one, two three and heave. Thats done it! As many as can, grab him and hold on tight. All right fellows, lift on the count of three; one, two threelift.

A roar of relief echoes across the lake.

Carry him ashore and turn him face down on the canvas.