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Mother Margaret and The Rhinoceros Café: 2003 Canadian Cross-cultural Stories

by Author Contributors; Edited by Radhika Sekar and F. S. Symons

155 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #03-0911; ISBN 1-4120-0542-6; US$17.00, C$19.45, EUR13.45, £9.45

Funny and wise characters constantly surprise as globalization grinds against them like an iceberg -- unavoidable. Love and hate, romance and crime intertwined make these entertaining yarns tough, touching and bittersweet.

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about the book      about the author      sample excerpts and Table of Contents      catalogue info

About the Book Critically acclaimed by writers and gurus alike, this kaleidoscope book of stories deeply probes cross-cultural conflict in Canadian society. In one story, a Dene settlement springs to life around one mesmerizing character with nothing more than voice and desire, and magic happens. In another, points of view clash on "infidels," "a good marriage," lust, love, office politics and elitist power. Would-be Canadians play a psychological endgame in the sinister and shadowy world of illegal immigrants and false papers. A dysfunctional family story set in another First Nations settlement shows how love triumphs as a bright kid struggles against drugs and evil. One of the stories about hate and love pits Afro-Canadians against each other. In another, a house is sold, and the neighbours speculate about the new owner: "I picture a family with eleven kids. Hells Angels. A Mormon with three wives." "Abe" turns cross-cultural conflict on its head by testing the stamina of a central Asian man in a Canadian construction site in winter. Two white ex-Winnipeggers in exotic Bombay figure in a richly layered story of old love, rejection and survival, benevolence and antagonism. "Inca's Return" presents images of the interdependence of the human and the natural. "Swearing at the Queen" rounds off the collection with a delightful romp through political correctness and prejudice in a courtroom. Of interest to reader of romance, mystery-crime-suspense and general fiction and to all readers who love a good yarn, plus students and professionals such as educators, political officials, public servants and researchers in Canadian Studies, International Development, Psychology, Religion, Sociology, Cultural/Social Anthropology, Canadian Literature, Geopolitics, Government Policy and programs--any field in which cultural matters are key. This book reflects the increasing cultural plurality of Canadian society and literature. It brings new perspectives on the poor and the developing world--to some an exotic, strange geo-world existing partly right here at home, in our own North and in out cities.

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About the Author Timothy Kaiser Originally from Saskatchewan, Timothy Kaiser is a member of the Saskatchewan Writers Guild. He created his story, "Mother Margaret and the Rhinoceros Café" out of a composite of characters he met while teaching in Black Lake, an isolated Dene community just south of the Northwest Territories border. The P.A. mentioned in the story is Prince Albert, a two-hour flight from Black Lake. Mr. Kaiser's writing has been published in Canada, the United States, and Asia. He teaches secondary school English Literature at the Canadian International School of Hong Kong. James Romanow When James Romanow returned to Canada after ten years abroad, in Oman, Bermuda, and New York, he found that he had more in common with new immigrants than with Canadians. Most of his fiction is about what happens when the iceberg of Western culture grinds up against the peoples and lives of the developing world. His story "Incident on 33" was published in Storyteller/Winter 2003. "Mangohattan" appeared in FreeFall Magazine, Calgary. He now lives and works in Saskatoon. Rosemary McCracken Rosemary McCracken is a Toronto journalist and teacher who has been published in Room of One's Own magazine. Rosemary's work with adult English-as-a-Second-Language students inspired the characters in "Crazy". Ken Loomes Ken Loomes has been writing for many years, honing his skills with the Whodunit? Mystery Writers' group. The inspiration for this story comes from his teaching experiences on a reserve 200 kilometres north of Winnipeg. He now lives and works in Winnipeg. Mark Foss "Mark Foss, a self-employed writer/editor, has worked in the field of international development since 1988. His fiction has appeared in various literary journals, including The New Quarterly. In 2001, CBC Radio's New Voices broadcast his first radio drama. He lives in Ottawa. Sheila Howe Sheila Howe holds a Bachelor of Science in Physiotherapy from The University of Western Ontario. Her articles have been published in Canadian Living Magazine, Kingston Life Magazine, The Cottage Magazine, Canadian Homes and Cottages, FiftyPlus, The Toronto Star and The Globe and Mail. She lives in an 1819 limestone house north of Kingston with her partner and three teenagers. Angelo Eidse Angelo Eidse has recently returned to his roots in Winnipeg after having lived on both coasts and points in between for most of the last decade. His writing explores the arcana of small-town life, the clandestine nature of relationships and the longing to belong. He is currently working on a collection of short stories. Cecilia Kennedy Cecilia Kennedy lives and writes in Brampton, Ontario, one of the most ethnically diverse cities in Canada. "Welcome to Mill Street" was a runner-up in the 2001 Toronto Star Short Story Contest. Her other stories have appeared in The Grist Mill and Storyteller where she is a two time winner of the Great Canadian Story Contest. Broken Jaw Press will publish a collection of her tales about young Ontario Provincial Constable named Tony Aardehuis in autumn 2003. Cyril Dabydeen Cyril Dabydeen has published over fifteen books of poetry, short stories, novels, anthologies, and over 100 book reviews and articles. He served on the jury of the Governor General's Award for literature (poetry), and on the Neustadt International Prize for Literature. Editor of the Journal of Carribean Studies, his work was the subject of a book-length study and academic papers given in Canada, UK/Europe, Australia, and the US. His latest books include North of the Equator, fiction (Beach Holme, 2001) and My Brahmin Days, fiction (TSAR, 2000). Radhika Sekar (Co-editor) Radhika Sekar was born in India but has lived in Ottawa since 1974. She has taught in the Religion Department at both Ottawa and Carleton Universities but withdrew from academia in 1999 to pursue an interest in creative writing. Apart from academic publications, her short stories have appeared in three anthologies, including her story in this one. F.S. Symons (Editor) A degree in English Canadian Literature at home in Canada and Comparative Literature at the Sorbonne in Paris led eventually to a British PhD in cyberspace geography. United Nations cross-cultural projects involved working with Africans, Asians, and South Americans. After stints as postmaster at Bear Island First Nations Reserve, editor in a news agency, and English fiction reviewer at Seix Barral S.A. (Barcelona and Buenos Aires), F.S. Symons settled down in southeastern Ontario, publishing fiction and non-fiction in Canada, Switzerland (UN/ITU), U.K. and U.S.A.

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Sample Excerpts and Table of Contents

CONTENTS

Introduction

Mother Margaret & the Rhinoceros Café
T. Kaiser

Incident on 33
J. Romanow

Crazy
R. McCracken

Pokey's Christmas Cookies
K. Loomes

Circumcision Through Words
M. Foss

Abe
S. Howe

The Mangohattan
J. Romanow

Pancho and Gary
A. Eidse

Welcome to Mill Street
C. Kennedy

Principles
F. S. Symons

Inca's Return
C. Dabydeen

Swearing at the Queen
R. Sekar

About the Authors and Illustrator

Excerpts

Mother Margaret and the Rhinoceros Café

by Timothy Kaiser

I wasn't sure what to do next. Had we, after four direct hits on an old Ford and a barrage that threatened to collapse a spidery outhouse, finally arrived at Mother Margaretís house? Had that been Mother Margaret in the doorway? I turned to the group of kids to ask, but they had already scattered. The little girl who had uttered the strange summons - "You come now. Mother Margaret wanna talk to you" - was heading away, cheerfully dragging her feet through the sand, splashing backwards through my own footprints on her way down the hill.

Incident on 33

by James Romanow

"Cat got your tongue?" she said. She wore a smile that he knew from school. It was the small, knowing, smirk found most famously on the Mona Lisa. She licked her spoon clean of the yoghurt. "Are you free after work?"

He had moaned then. A real moan, loud enough to cause Harrison, at an adjacent table to look over at him . . .

On the twenty-second floor, in the same building, Heather OíKeefe arranged the table of one of the lesser boardrooms. She placed two pads on the table, and two pencils. Rajini appeared in the doorway.

"Sit down," O'Keefe said, as she closed the door. Once Rajini was sitting, OíKeefe drew a deep breath and began. "Everything said in this room goes no further. Ron Kovacks has appointed me to hear your case, and to present it to him. I need you to tell me everything. I need to understand why -" O'Keefe broke off. She did not want her anger to show. "What motivated you. We both know this is not like you. I mean, you've never acted this way before."

Rajini nodded. Never acted this way before? Well, of course not. She had not met Rasheed before.

O'Keefe smiled, trying for a sympathetic manner. Most people thought her forbidding. She was blessed with high cheekbones and blonde hair, but as she aged she looked more severe. She once had overheard a young man describing her as "a hatchetfaced old battle axe." She later fired him, doubtless reinforcing his opinion.

"Don't look so fearful. Ron knows me, and he knows your work. I don't want to lose you, and that means a great deal." Her words were not helping. Rajini was small but fear seemed to shrink her further. The thought of this slight, shy, young woman in the arms of Rasheed disturbed O'Keefe. He was a big guy, broad shouldered and more than six feet tall. He carried himself with all the arrogance you find in traders, people whose daily work is counted in millions.

"You have to tell me about what happened," O' Keefe said. She picked up the pencil and wrote the date across the top of the first page.

Rajini looked down at her lap, her hands beneath the level of the table. "What happened?" she whispered.

Circumcision Through Words

By Mark Foss

"Women have to start taking responsibility for this horrific practice," says Doctor Ogunsola. "The African men won't talk about it, as you know too well. It is up to you. Mothers are to blame. They must be educated."

"Who are you to blame the mothers?" a woman in the audience shouts back at him. A few other women cry out in agreement.

"Who would you blame then? The fathers?" the doctor retorts. His eyes search the crowd to find the heckler.

Crazy

by Rosemary McCracken

The back of Kamal's neck tingled. "What you mean?"

"You having no papers when you work at Country Gardens."

"Why you say that?"

"Worker going to Dr. Edno has no papers. Everybody knowing that. You having no papers then and I thinking you having no papers now."

Kamal took a sip of his Golden, then downed half the liquid in the glass.

"You knowing what they do to people they catch working with no papers? They sending them back where they from. I thinking you not want to be going back to Iraq. But listen, Kamal. Jola got cousin who helping friends. You understand?"

Kamal felt warmth rising from his stomach. Suddenly, he felt very warm all over and he considered removing his jacket. No, heíd go as soon as he got Pawel to leave him alone. He tried to think of something to convince him he wasnít an illegal, but with the laughter and music around him, and the beer sending heat waves through his body, his brain wasnít working properly.

"You think íbout what I saying, Kamal."

What was he talking about?

"Bit expensive. But worth it. You no more need be hiding." Pawel glanced at his wrist watch. "How 'bout I meeting you here Monday, Kamal? I bringing Jola's cousin. He making you deal you can't refuse . . ."

Pawel rose, clapped him on the shoulder and threw a ten-dollar bill and a loonie on the table.

"My treat, Kamal. I seeing you here Monday night. What time you finishing work? Nine? I meeting you here nine o'clock."

Fear clutched Kamal's belly. Who was this cousin of Jola's? Was he from Immigration? Was he paying Pawel to turn him in?

Pawel went out the back door and Kamal dashed after him.

Outside, he found himself in a narrow alley behind the building. Kamal reached into his jacket pocket and took out his Swiss army knife. He opened the knife and held it behind his back. "Pawel!" he called. "Wait."

Poky's Christmas Cookies

by Ken Loomes

Poky didn't know why he had to make an extra trip, but if she was making cookies it would be worth it. He turned just a little so he could see her out of the corner of his eye. He saw her take some small boxes out of one cupboard and some bowls out of another. He looked a minute later and could see some flour in a bowl and Miss Ralston dumping a box of white powder into the plastic bag. He had no idea why she was filling the bag with flour when it already had flour in it. She was always looking over to see if he was watching her, but she would turn her shoulders just a bit before she looked so he knew when to face back to the stove.

"There, you can take this back now. Put it back where you found it and then come back here." She grabbed his arm and added, "Do you think anybody will be awake?"

"No, not for a long time yet."

"Okay, see you in a bit. Wait. Here put this jacket on and these mittens. You can bring them back when you come." She smiled at him then.

Poky was glad to see that. She had looked so worried before, like she didnít really want to help.

The Mangohattan

by James Romanow

Janet was almost my polar opposite. She was naive and open to experience. There was a warmth to her character that charmed most people, and an earthy sensuality that excited most men and more than a few women . . .

In due course, attempts had been made to wrest Janet from the clutches of Hindu mysticism. They must have succeeded to some extent. When the ashram dissolved amid the usual claims of financial misdoing and sexual misconduct, Janet had emerged healthy and clear-eyed. She even directed a documentary about it.

She appeared suddenly before me, as if my thoughts had summoned her. "Phil! You have not aged a bit!" she said with a brilliant smile. "Not like me." Her arm described a graceful arc that encompassed her whole body. That she was stout should not have surprised me, given the lush curves of her youth, but I had foolishly expected the old Janet, forever young, forever beautiful.

Her beauty was still apparent through the extra weight. Her cheekbones were still defined, her features symmetric. Her liquid eyes, always attractive, were outlined with kohl. Her lips were still full, made noticeable with a bright red lipstick. Even the grey in her hair somehow seemed glamorous. Despite her weight, despite her cheap polyester sari, she looked marvellous.

She perched herself on the edge of the wicker chair. It was a childís pose: bum barely on the seat; her feet, shod in the cheapest of Indian flip-flops, tucked under the chair, ready to launch her like a stone from a sling.

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Catalogue Information

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