It's Saturday afternoon. Jack is in the barn, cleaning pig pens, when Rosie comes running in. "Victor, you have to come quick. There's a long distance phone call for you. It's from India!"
"From India?" Who on earth would be calling him from India? "Okay, I'm coming. Are you sure it's for me?"
"Well, at first they asked for Mom and Dad, and when I said they're over in the slaughterhouse, they asked to talk to Jack Schuurman. Isn't that funny?"
Trotting off down the path, Jack says "Yeah, that's funny!"
"Hello. Hello, this is Jack."
"Yes? Hello. You are Jack Schuurman?"
"Yes I am. Who's calling please?"
"Just a moment."
Another voice, "Hi, Jack. This is Brother Andre. I'm in Calcutta, and I have to verify my destination for customs and for our tickets. Would you tell them where you are so they can figure out what I need to do?"
After some confusion and misunderstanding it's finally established that Brother Andre and Jack's mother are flying to Canada, and with some stopovers they should be arriving in about two days, so sometime Monday afternoon.
How about that! Jack is going to meet his mother, his real mother! After all this time.
How is he going to handle that? What will he say to her? Does she speak English? Probably not. Probably Brother Andre will be translating back and forth. What will she say? What sort of person would she be? That will be strange.
It's later in the day, Saturday. Jack and Leda are in the back of the Spiets family car. Dad and Mom and the young pair are in Bernon for some Christmas shopping. There was a fresh snowfall last night, and the roads and sidewalks are buried deep. It's still early winter, quite mild, and the snow was wet. It has blown against buildings and signs and stuck there, making a very white world.
Dad is just starting to enter an intersection. Marie interjects "Siem, I think you're supposed to stop here!"
"Is that right? I didn't see…" BANG !!
Jack feels a sharp pain in his head. He leans forward, his hands over both ears, groaning.
He mumbles "Mom, what's happening?"
There's a girl with her arm around him, with a worried look on her face.
"You hit your head on the side of the car, Vick. A car slammed into us in the back. I guess Leda's head hit your left temple and the doorpost hit the right one. We're on the way to the hospital now so they can have a look at you."
"I'm okay, I just have a headache."
Her name must be Leda. Why is she being so cozy? Why did Mom call him Vick?
Mom looks at him. "Well, we want to be sure." And she turns to the front again.
Leda softly, "Victor, are you sure you're alright?"
