The Old Quack Reminisces. Pt 2.

It's just about twenty years since the old quack moved to Ontario after thirty five years in Saskatchewan. He had come to Regina from the old country in January 1963, arriving at four in the morning at the CPR station with a wife, a little girl and forty dollars Canadian. They were supposed to be able to sleep in the Regina sleeper until eight in the morning when they were to be picked up by the manager of the Medical Arts Clinic where he was to work. It was so cold that they were unable to uncouple the Regina sleeper so they were evicted into the huge empty CP station that was totally deserted. It was four a.m. and still four hours until they were going to be picked up by the clinic manager.
"I'm hungry, daddy" the little girl said..
He looked around the huge Hall. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even a bloody dispensing machine. He walked over to the door and looked across South Railway St. Everything looked white and frosty. He could almost hear the cold. Across the street, which in more temperate weather conditions served as "Hooker Row" he could see a neon light. A little restaurant, perhaps? He pulled open the heavy door and stepped outside to get a better look. The cold air hit him like a sledge hammer! He'd never felt anything like it before. Still, there it was! A dancing florescent light advertising a restaurant.
"There's a little restaurant right across the road, let's make a dash for it," he said. wrapping the little girl inside his coat and taking his wife's hand. He wished them across the road to what turned out to be the ubiquitous little Chinese convenience store restaurant that exists everywhere in Canada.
"Come in, warm up,. You just got off the train? Where you come from?"
I told him we had just arrived in Saskatchewan from England.
"Welcome to Canada," said the little old Chinese gentleman.
His wife came over and hugged our daughter. "Little girl must be hungry." And without further ado brought a bowl of cereal. "She can start with this then we'll see what she wants to eat.".
They danced around us, fed us well and didn't want to give us a bill. Of course I insisted. I've always loved Chinese people ever since.

About 8 am, Mac Chase, the clinic manager picked us up. He was horrified that we had been there for several hours.
"Why didn't you phone me?" He asked.
"I wouldn't phone anyone at 4am."
He bundled us into his car to drive us to the house the clinic had rented from someone who has gone South for the winter. The drive along Albert Street in Regina was spectacular. The leafless trees that bridged that regal Street were encrusted with jewel like bracelets that were magnificent. He drove us to a nice house on Angus Crescent, that still looked nice when I drove by when I visited my sister a couple of years ago.
"I'll pick you up in the morning," Mac Chase said when he dropped us off. "Have you any money?'
"Oh yes," I said, "about forty dollars".
"Well, we'll have to do something about that," he said, "Our first stop will be at the bank, then we'll have to get you a car and see about setting you up with an account so you can buy some furniture when you find an apartment."
As he walked out the door he said, "Pick you up about 9 am."
All of a sudden everything was quiet. The baby was asleep. Irene was unpacking her hand baggage. The rest of their baggage would arrive in a couple of days. Stan opened the fridge to check on the supplies for the next day or so. There we precious few.
"Hey, I have to go and get some basic provisions," he said. "We need some stuff to carry us over until we can do a proper grocery shop tomorrow. Right now the only things in the fridge are some bread, milk, butter and some Old Port cigarillos! There has to be some sort of convenience store I can walk to and pick up some essentials. I'll be back soon."
He put on his coat, scarf and gloves and walked out into the brilliant white sunlight. The sun glistened on the snow and the cold was so refreshing after the overheated house that he felt invigorated. But not for long,. He walked around Angus Crescent and onto College Avenue looking out for any sort of convenience store but saw nothing. He kept walking and was starting to feel a little cold now. He'd never experienced anything quite like this before and in addition, his ears were starting to hurt. He stepped up the pace. His ears were getting so painful that he was actually considering knocking at the door of one of the houses and asking if he could phone for a taxi,, but if he did that sort of thing his forty dollars wasn't going to last long. Then, saved! Right on the corner he saw a little convenience store. The Chinese woman behind the counter greeted him with, "You look so cold, better warm up!"
Saved by the Chinese twice in a twenty four hour period, he thought gratefully.
Soon after he staggered back into the house with his groceries he noticed some sensation returning to his ears. Two minutes later he was writhing in agony as his frozen ears thawed out. For years after his ears remained excessively sensitive to the cold. When the pain settled a little he took one of the Old Port cigarillos from the fridge and wished he had a rum and coke to sip on while he smoked it.
At precisely nine in the morning Mac Chase picked him up.
After the usual greetings Mac said, "Okay Stan, first thing we have to do is get you some money. We're going to the bank!".