A Matter of Compulsion
The Story of Flory and Armand
by
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Word spread throughout the village. Pilon was going to have his snowmobile ready and on the road Friday after supper. Flory couldn’t understand why he had chosen that time. It would be dark. Maybe, she thought, if he fails, they won’t see the disappointment on his face.
The snowmobile had been at Joe Beauchamp’s for some time now. Wop May’s propeller would be attached and it would be all shined up and ready to go.
“It’s Friday today, Armand. Are you taking the snowmobile out tonight? Why isn’t it here?”
“I have not change my mind. I am going to pull it here to my house. Dat is where I start to build it an’ dat is where I start from.”
When Armand returned with the snowmobile, Flory asked if he was hungry.
“Look at my snowmobile, Flory. It look good. It have a good line, eh? No, I am not hungry.”
“There are people out there, Armand!”
“What you expect? Dis is a big occasion. It is not everybody dat t’ink to build a snowmobile. Dey t’ink de world end because we have de airplane an’ de automobile? It do not end. It will keep going.”
“Do you feel all right? Are you nervous?”
“I feel good. Don’t worry about me. I have two stiff drink of whisky. Yes, pure wit no water. Dat make you fly an’ dat is what I am going to do.”
“Fly? Is that why you put the propeller on? Oh, Armand, you are a strange man. You seem to have a love for that darned propeller. You even wanted to put a clock in its centre, remember?”
Flory looked out. The sidewalks were lined with people now. Why shouldn’t I go out on my own porch if I choose to. I’m not that shy, am I? I know darned well the Roberts and the Benets are watching.
She could see people with their arms flying in different directions, their heads thrown back in wild laughter. Dear Lord, don’t let him be the laughing stock of the village.
Armand put on his heavy coat, pulled on his muskrat hat, and tied his long blue scarf around his neck. “I go now. If you can manage to, wish me good luck.”
“Oh I do, Armand! I do!”
When Armand pushed the snowmobile to the road and revved the motor until the vibrant echo filled their ears, the crowd cheered and hollered, “Good luck, Pilon!”
Away he flew, his muskrat hat pulled low over his ears, his scarf blowing at a straight angle. Flory spoke out loud. “Let it be right, Lord, so we can hold our heads up high.” She stepped out as far as the sidewalk. He was still going strong, then over the hump in the road until he was out of sight. Everyone was running to catch up, thinking he would stop at the hotel. No, Armand decided to drive past the hotel and on to Rochon’s corner. He would make a good round turn there and head back to the hotel.
When Armand arrived they were all there waiting, cheering and shouting his name. Beauchamp thought perhaps Armand couldn’t shut the motor off and was on his way to Edmonton. Romeo and Leonard were proud. Their friends, the Regimbal and Chavalier boys, had come far from the country to see how fast the snowmobile would go. When it flew past the hotel, Leonard said, “It’s the first time the old man forgot to stop there.”
Now, Armand thought, dey will know dat when Pilon say somet’ing he mean it. I do a big happy t’ing tonight.
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About the Book
A Matter of Compulsion is the true, poignant and often humorous story of a family's struggle to survive in Northern Alberta during the Depression. Armand, a French-Canadian dreamer and Flory, an English pragmatist, had little in common. Even so, their love endured through the birth of eight children, life in a dance hall, and Armand's growing dependence on alcohol.
Armand was known throughout Cold Lake, Alberta for his remarkable ideas and his gregarious personality. His schemes ran the gamut from opening a speakeasy in his front parlour, to building a dance hall connected to his house. In between, he found time to invent a clothespin, hair tonic, and what may have been the first snowmobile. He regaled his friends at the Beer Parlour with stories of his latest scheme while Flory was forced to develop her own schemes to support her ever-growing family.