Life in a Thrashing Machine | Page 4

Canada were spent walking from city to city,
mostly in Southern Ontario. When the going got tough, he left for some
place new. Within the first couple of months in Canada, Henry went
from Montreal to Toronto, to Hamilton, to Kitchener. In all of those
cities, he didn't stay any longer than just a few weeks. The longest
stay-over was in Kitchener, but after a month he just could not stand
the better-than-thou, snobby attitude of the Germanic majority living
there. Naturally, he moved, yet again.
What was disheartening for the twenty-year-old Henry, was that from
all the travelling and walking that he was doing, about the only shoes
he got to repair were his own.
No one liked foreigners, so he found, and that was particularly true for
those who could not speak the English language very well. Kitchener
was a small city that was no different than others through which he
passed. Here, in this city, if one were a German and had a difficult time
with English, that was just fine. Henry's German left a lot to be desired,
too. At any rate; no other foreigners were regarded as intelligent or
trustworthy-not even young labourers that possessed a necessary craft

or skill.
Finally, Henry left and went to a small town, north of Kitchener, called
Salem. On the way to Salem, Henry managed to meet up with the town
smith who worked on the local farmers' horses, farm equipment and
other such machinery.
Returning to Salem from Kitchener, Karl Sanders gave Henry a lift in
the automobile that he had made and they got to know one another
fairly well after that. Karl allowed Henry to stay in the spare room of
the service station and livery that he owned in town. Until Henry
established himself, some of the little work he found, provided him
with room and board, as well as with some money, which allowed him
to buy leather and tools to make, and repair shoes. A few years passed
and Henry fell in love with the daughter of the town Pastor, who under
Karl's request began to teach Henry how to read, to write and to speak
in proper English. Her feelings for Henry were mutual, and in his third
year of living in Salem they married and proverbially, lived
happily-ever-after.
Henry understood what Vlad was going through in his life right now.
He saw Vlad was a bright, well-educated young man. Like himself, he
needed a helping hand from the outside to prove himself. Henry's star
had shone for him, first through Karl Sanders' help and then through
the love that he shared with his dearest late wife, Penelope.
"Don't worry, Vlad. You'll get a job soon. It may even be in the music
business!" Henry tried to be encouraging and supportive.
"I can only hope, Henry!" Vlad said with a sigh.
Henry served another customer while Vlad nursed the half-empty cup
in front of him. He stared deep into the cup and watched the darkness
near the bottom. He felt as if he were staring into a black hole that had
a grab on him, and that was pulling him deeper and deeper into an
unknown void. "Like a refill - on me?" Henry asked him, seeing that
Vlad's contours were blank and flushed. He called to him and once
more repeated his offer. "Vlad!" he said and watched Vlad jerk his head

up towards him. "Would you like that refilled? My treat."
Vlad hopelessly smirked and tipped his head in acceptance.
"Thanks!" he said.
"What planet were you on, just now?" Henry joked with him.
"I don't know. I wonder if I am even in this same dimension." he
chuckled back at Henry.
Henry looked a little pensive as he filled Vlad's cup to the very rim. He
set the glass pot back on the hot-plate of the drip machine and then
leaned closer towards him.
"Are you on drugs or something, Vlad?" Henry asked him in a serious
and worried sounding voice.
The question made Vlad laugh a little and he patted Henry on the
shoulder.
"Of course, not. I thought that you knew me better than that, Henry."
Henry grinned and cleared his throat a little.
"It's just that you seem really down today. More than usual, I mean!" he
said and Vlad nodded. "You can be a great man some day, Vlad. But
you won't be anything if you permit yourself fall into ruin."
Vlad downed the rest of the coffee and stretched his arms, a little.
"I've been tired lately. You know. When someone doesn't have
anything to look forward to, or has something to do, you just kind of . . .
waste-away!"
"You're too serious for your own good, son. Just you wait and see . .