Free as a Bird Read online

  Gina McMurchy-Barber

  DUNDURN PRESS

  TORONTO

  Copyright © Gina McMurchy-Barber, 2010

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise (except for brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior permission of Dundurn Press. Permission to photocopy should be requested from Access Copyright.

  Edited by Michael Carroll

  Designed by Courtney Horner

  Printed and bound in Canada by Webcom

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  McMurchy-Barber, Gina

  Free as a bird / Gina McMurchy-Barber.

  ISBN 978-1-55488-447-6

  I. Title.

  PS8625.M86F74 2009 jC813’.6 C2009-903256-2

  1 2 3 4 5 14 13 12 11 10

  We acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for our publishing program. We also acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and The Association for the Export of Canadian Books, and the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Book Publishers Tax Credit program, and the Ontario Media Development Corporation.

  Care has been taken to trace the ownership of copyright material used in this book. The author and the publisher welcome any information enabling them to rectify any references or credits in subsequent editions.

  J. Kirk Howard, President

  www.dundurn.com

  Dundurn Press Gazelle Book Services Limited Dundurn Press

  3 Church Street, Suite 500 White Cross Mills 2250 Military Road

  Toronto, Ontario, Canada High Town, Lancaster, England Tonawanda, NY

  M5E 1M2 LA1 4XS U.S.A. 14150

  For my parents,

  Gene and Murray McMurchy,

  whose dedication to my sister, Jane, taught me everything

  I need to know about unconditional love

  Contents

  acknowledgements

  chapter 1

  chapter 2

  chapter 3

  chapter 4

  chapter 5

  chapter 6

  chapter 7

  chapter 8

  chapter 9

  chapter 10

  author’s note

  acknowledgements

  I would like to thank my generous friend, Victoria Bartlett, for her time and wise guidance; Jane Cassie and Karen Autio for their helpful comments; the Surrey Public Library’s Writer-in-Residence Program and Mansel Robinson for his gentle feedback and insights; and my friend, Kathy, for setting me straight on a few facts.

  Ombudsman Dulcie McCallum’s report, The Need to Know: Administrative Review of Woodlands School, and Michael de Courcy’s photographic exhibition/archive entitled Asylum: A Long Last Look at Woodlands, were very helpful to me in re-creating the atmosphere and attitudes of the time.

  I would also like to acknowledge and thank those former residents of Woodlands who have spoken out about their experiences — giving me and others a better understanding of what they had to endure.

  chapter 1

  My name’s Ruby Jean Sharp an I growed up in Woodlands School. That wasn’t a nice place for a liddle kid — nope, not a nice place a’tall. Sometimes the uniforms was happy with me — that’s how come they called me Sharp-as-a-Tack. But there was other times when they wasn’t happy — that’s cause I’d scratch or bite or wet my pants. Uniforms said I did that cause I was a bad kid … said I had a behaviour problem. Maybe they was right. But maybe I jus dint like bein bossed round all the time or sittin all day with nothin to do cept go stir crazy. Maybe it was cause I dint like standin naked in the tub room an gettin sprayed down with cold water. Whatever it was made me behave bad — them uniforms had ways to make me stop. Sometimes they hit me or shouted an called me names like retard. They called me that on account of me not bein so smart.

  I dint always scratch an bite an pee my pants — nope, not a’tall. It started after Mom an Harold left me at Woodlands School when I was eight years old. Can’t say why they called it a school — a school’s a place you go for learnin an then after you get to go home. I never learnt much bout ledders and numbers, an I sure never got to go home — nope, only stayed at Woodlands all day an all night. I lived on Ward 33.

  Mom said cause I wasn’t so smart I dint knowed too many things. Maybe she was right, but I sure membered the day she left me at Woodlands — yup, I membered everythin bout it. First thing that mornin Mom said to put on my good dress — the one Gramma gave me with the white polka dots. After a long drive we went through a big gate an parked the car. Walkin up the path I held Mom’s hand, an Barbra too — Barbra was my best doll. Harold walked hind us — quiet as a mouse. Harold was my mom’s boyfriend. I guess Mom an Harold was mad at me that day, cause they dint talk or smile or even look at me.

  We came to a big yellow buildin but the door was locked — yup, locked tight. Then a man in white opened the door an we followed him upstairs. I liked hearin our footsteps boomin all the way to the top so I stomped my feet hard to make it louder. Mom squeezed my hand an said, “Stop it, Ruby Jean. Just stop it.”

  When we got to the top floor there was another locked meddal door. I thought it sure was a awful good thing the man in white had so many keys so’s we could get in all them locked doors. When we walked down the hall there was lotsa kids. Only they dint look like real kids — I think maybe cause they wasn’t happy. I said hello to some of em, but no one said hello back. Some kids drooled an made moanin noises when we walked by. Others crowded round, touchin my hair an Mom’s shoulder. Harold got mad when one of the big ones tried to hug him.

  I asked Mom why the kids dint look happy, but she squeezed my hand an said, “Stop it, Ruby Jean. Just stop it.”

  Then we came to nother big door that was locked. It had a liddle window high up — only the big people could see through it. The man in white took out his keys again an unlocked that big green door. That was when I looked inside an saw lots of brown meddal beds. There was a window too — it had thick meddal bars, but was too high for me to look outta. I thought this mus be a place for bad people, an it was a awful good thing they had locks on all the doors — yup, awful good thing.

  “So, Ruby Jean,” the man said to me. “Welcome to your new home. This is where you’re going to sleep.” At first I dint understand — I guess on account of me not bein so smart. So I jus stared at him — yup, jus stared. He looked at Mom. “Didn’t you talk to her about this?” I waited for her to tell that man in white he made a mistake, but she dint. “Mrs. Sharp, you were supposed to explain to Ruby Jean what was going to happen today.” The man shook his head.

  “Ruby Jean — like the man said — this is going to be your new home. Me and Harold are putting you here for your own good. Even Dr. Stone said it was better for you. These people here can teach you things — they have a lot of experience knowing how to deal with kids like you.”

  Kids like me? She was talkin bout kids who dint think so good or behave how they was spose to. I suddenly membered the sad kids in the hallway an all the locked doors. Can’t say how it happened, but my heart started thumpin real hard and jumped right up into my throat — yup, I could feel it poundin away inside there. I dropped Barbra on the floor an pulled my mom’s hands an said, “I wanna go now. I wanna go home.”

  “Now, Ruby Jean, don’t you make trouble for me. You got yourself into this mess because you don’t listen,” Mom’s face was turnin red. “You never obeyed anyone except Gramma — that’s why she always looked after you — but now she’s gone. I know it’s not all your faul
t — you were born this way. But all the same, me and Harold don’t want … what I mean to say is we can’t handle your misbehaving.”

  I pulled harder on her hands an said, “No, Mommy, I’ll be good, an I promise I will get smarter, I will, I will.”

  Then she squeezed my hands hard one last time an said, “Stop it, Ruby Jean. Just stop it.” That’s when the man in white pulled me into the room.

  “I’m not bad like these kids, Mommy. I’m a happy girl — a happy, good girl. See, see … see me smile?” I tried to smile my best smile but Mom an Harold couldn’t see cause they was lookin down on the floor. I tried pullin away from the uniform man but he was very strong — yup, too strong for me. When I looked back Mom an Harold was gone. I heard the scuffle of their shoes as they hurried down the hall. I cried after em, “I’ll be good, please don’t leave me here … Mom? Harold? Please don’t leave me here.”

  It was on account of me not bein so smart that they left me in this place with locked meddal doors, windows with bars an so many sad kids. The man in the white uniform tried his best to talk to me, but I guess I was jus too scared to listen.

  “It’ll be all right, Ruby Jean. You’ll get use to it. Now come and see your room. Try out your bed and feel how comfy it is. Then I’ll take you down to the day room to meet the others.” The others? He was talkin bout more kids like those sad, droolin, moanin ones I saw out in the hall.

  I picked up Barbra an held her tight an screamed at him, “No, I don’t wanna sit on the bed. I wanna go home.” I started screamin so loud I musta scared him cause he left me in the room all by myself — yup, closed the door an locked it. Me an Barbra was alone in there cryin for a long time.

  That was a sad day an when I think bout it I get sad all over again. Fore then I could only member one other time I was so sad. It was the day Gramma went to heaven in the amblance. That mornin she told me, “Ruby Jean, I’m not feeling myself today.” Then a liddle while later the amblance came to the door an took her — yup, an never brought her back.

  After Mom an Harold left me at Woodlands I had a lotta sad days — an a lotta things to get use to … cept I never really got use to em. For one thing I had to share my room with seven other kids an every night one of em was mad or sad bout somethin. The rest of us dint get to sleep till all the ruckus an cryin was done. Nother thing I dint like was the stuff we had to eat. My Gramma was a awful good cook, that’s how come I knowed how things was sposed to taste. Fore comin to Woodlands my favourite dessert was Gramma’s pudding. But priddy soon I dint like puddin no more on account of it wouldn’t stay on my spoon — nope, it was like brown soup. Sides the drippy puddin, the vegables was mushy an the meat was like old gum that lost its chew. An we dint never get to have lemon pie with a dollop of whip cream or pizza with mozza or fish ’n chips wrapped in newspaper — nope, dint getta eat things like that no more.

  Worse than all that was how I dint have no say over my own body no more. Had to stand naked in front of the others, had to sit on a toilet with em uniforms watchin, an if I dint go they poured hot water on my privates to make me go — that hurt … a lot. Nother thing I dint like … I never gotta say bout what I wanted to wear.

  One night, soon after Mom an Harold left me, I woke up in the dark an there was a night uniform layin side me an he was touchin me. I dint like that man touchin me like that — nope, not a’tall. So I scratched an bit him hard’s I could. He slapped my face, but that dint stop me from tryin to bite him more.

  I membered Gramma tellin me I should get a police man if I ever needed help. So’s I told that uniform I was gunna tell the police man bout him. He jus smiled an said, “Is that right?” After that he put me in a skinny room — had only a tiny window an a real cold floor. I tried to kick an scream an stop that uniform from puttin me there but he said I was misbehavin an had to be punished. I stayed there all night — yup, all by myself, shiverin an cryin. I sure dint never wanna be put in that place again, so I decided I was never gunna tell the police man bout that uniform touchin me.

  I started bitin a lotta people after that. An when a new uniform came to Ward 33 the others said, “Watch out for that one. She’s a biter.”

  I thought bout runnin away but all em locked doors an barred windows woulda stopped me. An when the uniforms took me outdoors they held on to me tight — yup, awful tight. Well, cept for one day.

  It was not so long after I came to Woodlands an I was outside walkin in a line with some other kids. Nurse stopped to talk to somebody. She shook her finger at us kids an said, “You just stand there and wait!” We all stood an waited. But after a while I think Nurse forgot bout us. That’s when I started lookin round an saw the road Mom an Harold drove on when they brought me to Woodlands. I thought to myself, if that road brought me in here it mus be able to take me back out. At first I walked way slowly, but then I started to run — faster an faster. I had a feelin I was gunna get away. Yup, I thought — yer gunna get oudda here, Ruby Jean. But then I said to myself — well, where ya gunna go? Mom and Harold’s? Do you know how to find them? Would they let ya stay? Suddenly I got smashed down to the ground by a big green uniform. He was on top of me an my face hurt a lot from bein pushed into the rocks an dirt. Then Nurse caught up an yelled at me an told me no more walks for a long time.

  After that the uniforms called me a biter an a runner. And whenever I went outside I had to wear a belt-leash round my tummy or sometimes round my wrist. I dint like havin the leash round my wrist cause it made my arm sore — yup, awful sore. Never got nother idea to run away after that — that’s cause I dint have no place to go.

  It was a long time ago I was eight. I dunno zackly how old I am now on account of me not bein so smart. And sides that — I dint get birthday cakes no more. Fore I came to Woodlands I could always tell how old I was by countin candles on my birthday cakes. All the same, I knowed I was growin cause whenever I saw myself in the mirror I could tell I was gettin taller an rounder in the middle. Nurse said I was plump. I had dark brown hair an small liddle eyes an lotsa freckles too, jus like Gramma. Nother thing that was jus like Gramma’s was my smile — everybody use to say so. An even when I dint feel much like it, I smiled at myself in the mirror jus so’s I could member what it was like havin her look at me an say, “I love you, Ruby Jean.”

  Maybe I dint knowed zackly how old I was, but I did know the day I was born. Yup, Gramma use to say over an over, “You came into this world on Februrary 19, 1957, at St. Paul’s Hospital in Vancouver. And it was one of the happiest days of my life.”

  Wasn’t one of Mom’s happiest days — nope, not a’tall. That’s cause after I took so long gettin born the doctor told her I was a retard. He said somethin bout me havin a extra chromosome. Dunno what a chromosome is, but I sure wished I dint have a extra one cause then maybe Mom wouldn’t have left me at Woodlands.

  Gramma was different — yup, she loved me right from the start. Even if I was … like the doctor said … a retard. She was the one who named me Ruby Jean when I was a baby.

  “I called you Ruby because you’re like a precious jewel and gave you the name Jean because it means ‘a gift from the good Lord.’ And that’s just what you are, Ruby Jean — a precious jewel from God.”

  I decided to stop talkin after I came to live at Woodlands — yup, jus stopped. That’s cause it was bout the only thing the uniforms couldn’t make me do. An sides that, when I was quiet the uniforms dint bug me so much. I guess I learnt that trick from Gramma. One time she said she wished she was a fly on the wall. And I said, “Gramma that’s a funny thing to wanna be.” She said if yer really small an quiet — like a fly on the wall — it was like bein invisible. You could hear what others was sayin but they dint bother you — that’s cause they dint notice you was there. So after I stopped talkin the uniforms dint see me no more — nope, that’s cause I was jus like a invisible fly on the wall.

  But there was some days when I wasn’t so quiet an invisible — nope, on account of a mean ball of anger squeezin
me from the inside. Can’t say zackly how I got like that — but sometimes I jus woke up in the mornin an there it was. Gramma called those days when you wake in a bad mood, “getting up on the wrong side of the bed.” I guess that was my problem. I kept gettin up on the wrong side of the bed — cept I only had one side for gettin up on.

  Then there was days I started out jus fine, but somthin bout the place made the meanness grow inside me. I could feel myself gettin madder an meaner through the day till I was like a wound-up jack-in-the-box bout to jump out at somebody. Maybe it was on account of me not bein so smart. Or maybe it was on account of me bein tired of waitin for somethin to happen.

  All my days started the same. I’d be in bed, warm an dreamin. My favourite dreams were bout snugglin tight in Gramma’s arms. She always hugged me a awful lot fore she went to heaven in the amblance. But then the lights on the ceilin would start to hum an crackle an jus when they snapped on my Gramma dreams disappeared. Those bright lights always hurt my eyes so I squeezed em shut an tried to see Gramma gain, but it was too late — she was gone. Then Millie would unlock the door an come in — on account of she was day shift — an tell us all to get oudda bed. Sometimes I dint wanna get oudda bed so I turned over an tried to sleep some more.

  “Come on, Ruby Jean. Don’t give me any trouble today. You don’t want me to call the Boys, do you?” I dint like the Boys — nope, not a’tall. If I dint cause trouble Millie dint call em. But like I said, some days I jus woke up with the anger inside me an it made me cause trouble — yup, big trouble.

  Some kids passed their time more peaceful than me — yup, jus stared up at the ceiling, minds as blank as the walls. Others looked oudda the window — maybe cause they was hopin for someone to come for em. Then there was the ones who watched TV all day. If Millie was on shift we had the soaps — Days of Our Lives an As the World Turns. Then jus fore lunch it was The Price Is Right with Bob Barker. But Bernice dint like soaps — so when she was workin we watched Julia Child’s cookin show an The Armchair Traveler. I mighta liked to watch somethin different, but the TV was stuck at the top of the wall — way too high for me to reach.