Read Online Once We Had a Country by Robert McGill - Free Book Online Page A

we’re here to make his company a profit.”
    “Technically, that
is
why we’re here …” He breaks off and looks grim.
    There’s an ache in Maggie’s gut. Gathering herself, she turns to Brid and finds her staring back as though waiting for Maggie’s intercession.
    “Fletcher’s dad understands we’re doing things our way,” says Maggie, trying to sound measured and reasonable. “He knows eventually we’ll buy the place from the company. Until then, though, Morgan Sugar’s paying our salaries.” She knows very well that Brid has already been informed of these facts.
    “Fine, so we’ll get the workers,” says Brid. “Those draft dodgers from Toronto—”
    “I’ve talked to them,” says Fletcher. “They can’t come for at least a month.”
    Brid heaves herself back in her chair. “Okay then, big shot, tell us your plan.”
    Looking at them with a wary eye, he says, “There’s a programme up here. Government run, migrant workers. Pretty easy to arrange.”
    “You’re kidding me,” says Brid. “What, Mexicans?”
    “Jamaicans.”
    “Oh, even better.” She helps herself to a cigarette from a pack on the table. Maggie has a sense that right now Brid and Fletcher strongly dislike each other. This fact should soothe her somehow, but instead there’s an intimacy to the whole thing that’s excruciating.
    “The workers fly up, stay the season, fly back,” says Fletcher. “It’s a lot cheaper than local labour. Plus, you know, it puts money into the Jamaican economy—”
    Brid smiles an awful smile and shakes her head in disbelief. “You are fucking kidding me.”
    “It would just be till we’re off the ground.”
    Maggie hates the beseeching way in which Fletcher says it. Is this why he asked Brid to join them here—to earn her approval? She doesn’t even care about the farm. She’s only come up for the sake of her daughter and her AWOL boyfriend.
    Maybe Maggie shouldn’t be so judgmental, though. It isn’t like she has spent her own life driven by idealism. Even now, her urge is to leave the table, take the Super 8 camera outside, and have some time alone. She’s already starting to imagine what that would be like when she realizes Brid is staring at her.
    “You’re not even paying attention, are you?” says Brid.
    “No, I’m listening.” She turns to Fletcher, but he only sits there sharing Brid’s quizzical expression.
    “So what do you think, then?” Brid asks her.
    “I think—” she begins, not knowing what she thinks.
    “I don’t know.”
    “For Christ’s sake.”
    “No, wait.” She can’t just leave it at that. This place needs to be a success. “We should try Fletcher’s plan. I mean, we wouldn’t be forcing anything on the Jamaicans, would we? They want to work up here. And we could pay them better than minimum wage. We could even help them stay in Canada.” As she speaks these words, it sounds like a plausible arrangement, especially considering she’s devised it on the spot. But Fletcher looks troubled.
    “Now hold on,” he says. “There are rules, for one thing, and paying them more money kind of defeats the purpose—”
    “What is the purpose, though?” she asks. “I mean, I thought we’re trying to create something fair and equal here.” At this, Fletcher’s face darkens and Brid beams. “I know you’re trying to do that,” Maggie adds hastily. She feels herself sinking. “So if you think your solution is the best idea,” she says with a sigh, “we should probably just go ahead with it.”
    “Oh, Maggie,” says Brid. “You were doing so well.” Rising from her seat, she turns to Fletcher. “Do whatever you want. Honestly, the only thing I care about is that we buy a TV.”
    Fletcher laughs without humour until he realizes she isn’t joking. “I thought we agreed on no television.”
    “Sure, except the kid’s bored out of her skull. Speaking of which, where’s the playroom you promised?”
    “I told you, as soon as Wale