Chapter 28: It's Yesterday Once More

Thursday morning at breakfast, more than a few of us were wearing smiles. Julie blushed every time I looked at her and grinned, and Annette and Mandy weren't exactly pale of face either. It was Krissy who cracked us up, though, when she announced rather loudly she needed to go shopping for batteries! Thankfully, Sister Gabe didn't question why!

A regular school bus picked us up at the Royal York, and in less time than I thought possible in Toronto traffic, deposited us at the Royal Ontario Museum. I had been there before, but had never seen it with the appreciation experienced through my new eyes. Here in front of me, and all around me, were reminders of lives lived before. I was truly dumbstruck. The history was a living testament to accomplishments by people who had done something with their lives, and an even bigger reminder of how short life really is. I had already wasted four decades once, while in less time, others had made history. Painters, sculptors, explorers, and men of medicine - each had made an indelible mark with the time they had been given. What would I do now with my life? I wasn't looking for fame or glory; I just didn't want to squander this life as I had my first one.

I wandered around for a bit, finally parking myself on a bench to think about my life that was, the life I had now, and trying to decide what I would do with my second chance. Wendy, understanding as ever, took Krissy by the hand and explored with her. This was Wendy's first time here, and as much as I wanted her firsts to be with me, I was simply overwhelmed. Sister Gabe allowed me to sit while my teammates wandered the halls. I know my excuse of too much breakfast didn't hold water with her, but I was grateful she allowed me my moment of introspect and reflection. It was true. I had made some changes to the lives of others as Annette kept reminding me, and in a roundabout way, I had changed the living history of St. Ursula's, but was that going to be my only legacy?

Julie joined me after about an hour. "I figured you've had enough time to relive your past," she said.

I looked at her in surprise. "How did you know what I was thinking?"

Julie put her arm around me and said, "It's not hard, Sweetheart. You're involved in nearly everything. It's like you want to live two lives to make up for one, but you have to remember that you are only one person, and a young one at that. Remember, it's now that's important, not what was. Your time for making your mark on the world will come when you get a bit older."

"But that's just it," I said. "I don't know what kind of mark I want to leave. I don't really know what I want to do with my life."

"Why not just continue doing what you've been doing all along?" Julie asked. "It seems to me that you've been making some pretty good decisions as situations come up. Do you think Michelangelo started with the Sistine Chapel?"

That made me laugh. The idea of tackling something that huge without prior experience or practice would drive a person insane.

"You see, Patti, you've got to start off walking before you can run. And you learn to walk by taking small steps, one at a time, just one foot in front of the other. Don't rush through this life. Enjoy it! Maybe you won't even know when the moment is upon you until you're faced with the opportunity. Have some faith in yourself!"

I hugged Julie, my eyes moist with unshed tears. "Thanks, Julie," I whispered. "You'll make a great doctor!"

We stopped at a little Greek restaurant on Spadina before heading on to the Science Center. No fast food for this group! We had a great meal of a variety of Middle East delicacies. Not too much of any one thing, but enough of everything to satisfy our hunger. The owner insisted on having a picture taken of us in his restaurant, which quite frankly befuddled us until he showed us a copy of Friday's Sun. Now the Toronto Sun is and always was a tabloid magazine. No in-depth writing or great literature, but they were the largest selling and most popular paper in the Toronto region. On the front page of the sports section was a half-page picture of us with our hair all gelled for the final game in the London City Tournament. We had our picture taken with the owner and his wife then of course rushed off to grab copies of the paper for ourselves.

Not surprisingly, it was Jim Blake, who had provided the Sun with scores of all our games and a history behind the team. He even shared rumored hints of a bet to benefit the Sick Children's Hospital. And of course Jim shared the byline. Jim explained the reason for our short haircuts, which led to the funky hairstyles, and he speculated about our unmatched winning streak so far this season. The local sports editor and his staff had listed all the teams we would be playing and their records for the year.

Later, on reading the records of those teams we would be facing in the Regionals, I noticed something, which I pointed out to Annette. Nearly every one of those teams had only two or three strong scorers, whereas our team usually had an even spread of points across our front row. She grinned at me, saying, "So all we have to do is see what number they're wearing eh?"

On paper we looked unstoppable against the other teams, but on the bus, Sister Gabe reminded us a single match loss would be the end of our unbeaten streak, even if we did go on to win. She took the opportunity to remind us that we needed to concentrate on our game when we took to the court tomorrow, then smiled and said how very proud she was of all of us.

Arriving at the Science Center, one of the best in the world, especially for hands-on experiments and play, I was back to my old self and literally ran with Wendy through the rooms of 'tomorrow, ' Julie trailing along behind, laughing.

While the other girls were busy playing with mirrors and magnets and static electricity, I had a great time showing Wendy and Julie some of the gadgets predicted to become popular in the next few decades. I was a bit surprised at how accurate some of them were and how commonplace they would become, but I had first-hand knowledge of the changes in the technology and shared a few laughs with Julie and Wendy as I explained them. The VCR had already been invented, but it was only for the very rich, and I laughed at the prediction that BetaMax would eventually dominate the market. Julie couldn't believe that in 30 years, you wouldn't be able to find a Beta player except in a museum, or that a VCR would cost less than a good meal out for two. I had always been a firm believer that the public would buy anything as long as it had an acronym for a name. It made it sound more important than it really was.

The joys of knowing that CDs would replace records and that piracy of music would become the largest pastime for most kids our age made Julie laugh. I told her about the portable MP3 players and how you could easily fit 100 songs on a single disc. How records and tapes would become ancient history to be replaced by the silver discs read by laser light. When I told her that movies would also end up being on discs she scoffed at the notion, but I told her to just wait and see!

The television room was the greatest fun as scientists had predicted flat-screen TVs for all rooms in the house. I told her that at the time I was returned, these units were available but for prices out of this world, though I did tell her that B&W TVs would become obsolete in just a few more years, and a 20-inch color TV was fit only for the bedroom. The cell phones were the funniest of all as they were shown in something the size of a man's shoe! Predictions were made that, by the year 2000, they would be small enough to fit on a wristwatch, but I quickly dispelled that notion. I told them that the phones would be smaller than what Captain Kirk used on Star Trek, and you could send text messages as well as play games on them. More relevant would be the changes to regular house phones with toys like call display, three-way calling, and call forwarding, then I realized that answering machines hadn't even hit the market yet!

Julie brought some reality down on my shoulders though when she said that all these great advances would be commonplace when she was in her Fifties!

I assured her that with a proper diet and exercise, 50 was barely middle age, and there were a lot of very active and powerful women in the 21^st century of that age. "Fifty isn't old, Julie," I said. "You really are only as old as you feel and act!"

All too soon we had to leave the Ontario Science Center and return to the York. We had supper in one of the many restaurants in the hotel. The one we chose was as much a show as it was a meal. We sat on pillows around a big table that had a grill right in the middle, and a Japanese chef juggled and flipped knives that were sharp enough to split hairs. We laughed as he flipped small portions right on to our plates, and we gave him an ovation when he was done. Meat, sliced paper-thin, is a delicacy that few people truly appreciate. Cooked for mere seconds, it melts in your mouth, and the beef was of an excellent quality. I don't know who paid for this extravagance for us, but I wished that Linda and Einstein could have been there to join us for it.

Sister Gabe surprised us yet again after the meal saying that a donor in Toronto, who wished to remain anonymous, had read the story in the Sun about our good deeds and donations to the Sick Children's Hospital and arranged for us all to catch a live performance of The Canadian Show or Upper US: the 48^th revue.

Julie and Wendy couldn't begin to understand my excitement. We were going to go to the old Fire Hall on Adelaide to watch John Candy, Gilda Radner, Dan Ackroyd, and Eugene Levy! This was the place where Saturday Night Live was really born! Bill Murray got his start here, as did Betty Thomas and John Belushi. I was reading this in the paper and was just so excited. Not only was I going to get to see them all before they became famous, but so many had died in the last years of my own life. I tried to explain to Wendy and Julie this was like watching the Beatles join together and play in Hamburg, Germany, when they still had Pete Best on drums and Stuart Sutcliffe was still pretending to play bass.

"Imagine seeing the Beatles in 1957, six years before they became famous!" I said. This was something they could relate to, and I told them that in just another year or so, they would get to see most of the comedians we would see tonight on television on a weekly basis.

The play itself was nothing special, just another series of skits thrown together by some talented comedians, but while the team loved it, I was amazed at the pure, raw talent of these people, who in future years I had grown to love watching. It was a late night before we got back to the Royal York, and under strict rule of Sister Gabe, it was bedtime and lights out. Wendy and I found the peace and solitude a pleasant change after the hectic day. We set one of the chairs in the room to face the window and opened it as much as we could to let the sounds of the city enter in. We hugged and we snuggled, with Wendy in my lap as usual, and I kissed the soft nape of her neck till she became so aroused we consummated our passion.

Friday morning it was a light breakfast of fruit juices and bagels. New York can claim to have the best bagels in the world, but for those of us in the know, Toronto is the place for bagels! Cinnamon and raisin bagels cut and fried in butter, cheese bagels, onion and garlic, and literally slathered with cream cheese! Whatever flavor you wanted, they had it. After breakfast, we dressed in our Sunday uniforms and boarded the bus for the University of Toronto.

Okay, Western U is big, but it was nothing compared to the University of Toronto. Where the UWO had large wide-open spaces, UT was crammed tight with buildings older than most of Canada. You could see it in the woodwork. Much of it oak and maple, and all hand carved. We crossed King's Circle on foot with our bags over our shoulders, conspicuous in our Sunday uniforms. This campus was packed! If not for our self-confidence in our game, we would have probably felt very much out of place in our little schoolgirl uniforms at a time when most of the country was walking around in blue jeans. The advantage it had was that the photographers easily spotted us, and we kept smiles on our faces for the media right up till we got to the dressing room reserved for us. We carefully folded and hung our uniforms up and changed into our suits. It was a moment of decision. Should we do our hair up now before the first whistle blew or wait for the third and final game of the Provincials?

We had plenty of time before the first game started and were discussing the pros and cons of both options when the door opened and Linda walked in.

Julie jumped up and gave Linda a big hug and kiss right in front of everybody including Sister Gabe!

"What are you doing here, Sweetheart?" asked Julie.

Linda laughed and said that Robert was not to be put off. He had the Saints' bus plus four other coaches filled with parents and friends of the Saints and had driven them all free of charge, although they took donations for the Sick Children's hospital. He had managed to collect over $5,000 on this trip, just for a chance to cheer us on.

Linda told of how parents and members of the Alumnae had gathered at the school at seven in the morning for the two-and-a-half hour trip. Unlike the Regionals, there was an admission fee for this event, and Robert had booked an entire section of seats for Saints supporters. Many parents and friends had taken the Friday off so they could be there to cheer us on and lend moral support. Then she opened the bag she had brought in with her and pulled out bottles of some bluish black liquid, jars of stage make-up, and a hand written note from Einstein.

"Peppermint," it said. "Never repeat what can be improved on. Remember Robert Palmer? With the help of Ann and Rita and Linda, we came up with something totally different. It's food color mixed in with a compound of jells that will give you stiff hair and you can all be,' Simply Irresistible.'

We tested the product under hot, sweaty conditions, and the color won't run, and the wet look won't dry or be as hard to remove as the 'Dippity-Do' was.

Keep them guessing!

Einstein."

Of course I remembered Robert Palmer's video with his back-up group of identical female guitar players. They all looked alike in their red leather mini dresses and slicked back black hair. It had been a great fantasy in the late 80's. So, maybe we would inspire him earlier, or we would just take the idea and run with it. I liked the idea that we could do something different, and especially that we could just shower it out afterwards. Leave it to Einstein to know what would be on my mind.

I tried to explain to the rest of the team the change in strategy. "They'll all be expecting us to repeat the spiked gold look," I said. "This will catch them totally off guard, and win or lose, I guarantee we will make all the papers with this!"

Annette and Mandy were of course my first volunteers and we wrapped towels around their necks to prevent the color from landing on the uniforms. If we made it to the second or third rounds, we could take the time to shower and change into fresh uniforms later. In the bag was also a spray bottle to help wet our hair, and with Wendy's help we soon had Annette and Mandy's hair wet enough so that we could liberally apply the solution. Using the fine toothed combs in the bag, we combed their hair straight back, and I was shocked by the result. Annette's blonde hair was now a rich shiny jet black, and stiff enough to bounce balloons off of. Mandy soon looked the same, and the other girls were then helping themselves to the solution and putting it on each other. Annette was so easy going, and as she led, Mandy followed. The other girls followed their captain, though why she ever listened to my advice, which by any definition was way out in left field, was a mystery to me. Sister Gabe looked at us all and just smiled.

The makeup in the bag turned out to be our school colors, and with a bit of help from Linda and Julie, we all had a brush mark on each cheek with matching colors. A bigger surprise was yet to be revealed when Linda said that Ann had suggested we darken our eyelids with a charcoal powder and use the enclosed black eye liner to deepen the impression. By the time we were finished applying all the tricks, we just had time to slip our tracksuits over our gym suits and we literally marched on to the playing floor with only minutes to spare!

One of the advantages in looking similar was that the first team we played had trouble telling us apart, so they couldn't easily look for weakness in one player and concentrate their efforts on her, but we had worked long and hard to get to this point and we utilized every trick in our books to win swiftly and decisively.

Our first match up was over in two sets, increasing our no-loss streak to 23.

For the next match, Annette insisted we use no fancy tricks - just play it straight like the team had before our new moves were introduced. This so flustered the opposing team from Hamilton, that all their strategies for beating the Saints were a waste of practice. It was another two-set win. One more match and we would take the Provincial title!

I know it all sounds so easy, the way the Saints overwhelmed so many teams, but we had the advantage of using moves that on another timeline would not have been devised or used until the 90's. On top of that, we had a very spirited team that really got along, and we had an advantage of living where we learned, which gave us much more time in the gym for practice. Not having to share the gym with any boys' teams was also a big boost, and up till this point, St. Ursula's had never been a sports school. Hell... Phys-Ed wasn't even an option on the curriculum! It was March 7^th, 1975. We were playing the best teams in Ontario. In 1975, the population of Canada, which was barely 105 years old, was 23 million; over a third of it lived in Ontario. We had our share of easy wins, but it came from practice, tricks, and more practice. I knew from this day forward, girl's volleyball would never be seen the same way again, and also that Canada would be putting up one hell of a team for the 1976 Olympics. It also dawned on me that Annette, Mandy, and Krissy might very well be on that team. Hmmm... another nudge to the new history line!

The last team we had to play for the Provincial title was the girls of Sir John A MacDonald Secondary out of Ottawa. They had managed an upset win over the Toronto entry - and tournament favorite - in the second match.

The girls of Sir John A MacDonald were not about to give up their chance for a shot at the National Title quite so easily. Between our two teams, we were the best the province had. Regretfully, only one of us would move on to the Nationals - and the Saints were not going to let anyone stand in their way.

When we headed back onto the court for the final game, the arena had been staged with only one net, and we could hear our cheering section shouting out encouragement. During our break we had showered, rested, and rinsed the gel from our hair. This last match was going to be played straight from the heart. Every girl on the team knew what was on the line. In fresh uniforms we stampeded into the battleground, adrenaline pumping, and our war whoops causing a wave of excitement to go through the stands. Banners proclaiming "Go Saints" were distributed through the exceptionally large crowd from London. The lighting made it nearly impossible to make out faces in the stands, but we could hear where they were, and the banners just added fuel to our passion. This match was for Sister Gabe, Sister Elizabeth, and all the nuns and girls back at the school. We had never anticipated making it this far, and now we were just one school away from going to the Nationals. Even the Sick Children's Hospital, which would benefit most from our win, was a secondary issue now. We could taste victory and we smelled blood. Like sharks circling the prey, we ran a few laps around the floor trying to build on the energy inside. We had played three weeks of tournaments to get here. We were in shape and out for the kill.

Mandy's first serve seemed to float in slow motion as it crossed the net where it was received, lofted, and moved to a player who spiked it down. Down, right into the waiting arms of Annette, who gently lifted it to me. I saw no clear opening and passed it back to Annette, who jumped higher than I had ever seen her jump before. My pass to her was just marginally inside our side of the net, and when Annette hit it, the resounding thwack as it shot into the Sir John's open spot and bounced off the floor raised cheers from all around. Her strike had such force behind it that the ricochet off the floor sent it sailing into the stands! That set the tempo for the game.

It was a long game. While we kept the upper hand, our opponents managed to keep us blocked for many of our attempts to spike. More than a few times, we actually had to volley the ball back or risk a penalty for too many touches on the ball on our side. The first game ended 25 - 9, and we had a short breather. Damn. These girls were good. If not for the Saints, they probably would have been this year's National champs. But... we were here, through fate or through the grace or design of the Goddess, and we were going to win the next game.

For a non-contact sport, the crowd seemed to roar, reminding me of soccer matches in Europe. In Canada, this level of excitement was usually reserved for hockey and CFL football. I knew Sister Elizabeth was in the stands somewhere, as was Father Ed. I'm not sure why they didn't come to sit by the players' bench, but it may have been they were afraid of breaking the spell. While both had been staunch supporters of our efforts, with Sister Elizabeth turning a blind eye to some of our stranger antics, they had allowed the team to grow together as a cohesive unit, never interfering with the way we practiced or played. The team had a good captain in Annette. She was perfectly suited to the role and always agreeable to trying the new and crazy suggestions of even a junior player without question. I didn't want to take her place, and I think she realized this, but I seemed to be effective at guiding people, something I had never been able to do before. Perhaps it was knowing that life was not indefinite, and I was more apt to enjoy the moment, but I knew that I was confident that what I was doing was right. While there were some things I could not legally do yet, like drive, I was in no rush to grow up. I didn't mind the homework or school. I had had it much more difficult working for a living, and I knew I would not make the same mistakes twice. The first time I had been impatient to grow up. Now I was content to live every day to the fullest.

I didn't start in the second game, nor did Krissy. We were content to wait our rotation in when Annette called for us. And Annette played! You'd think she was giving out volleyballs as souvenirs the way she kept pounding them into the floor and bouncing them into the stands, and for each one that reached the seats, the crowd just screamed more encouragement. The Saints were up 10 - zip when Annette rotated herself off to a standing ovation. Nine of those points had been hers, and nine balls were now historical souvenirs of the day the Saints won their first Provincial title. Final score was 25 - 1!

The crowd went nuts! We barely had time to shake hands with the players of Sir John A's before people broke through the barriers and mobbed us. Oz came flying down and jumped on Krissy. Einstein wasted no time himself getting down to the floor and gave both Wendy and I big kisses, hugging us both, and crying with us. After such an emotional day, we couldn't hold it in any longer. Suddenly we were exhausted. I saw Linda and Julie out of the corner of my eye, and a slight nod from Linda was all I needed to know that the parents had made it to the court. Einstein quickly wiped his eyes, and released his hold on us. Mike and Ann, followed closely by Tom and Rita, were over hugging us and congratulating us. Bob and Hilda scooped up Annette and Mandy. Soon the arena floor was filled with parents, friends, and reporters.

I could see Jim Blake as he elbowed his way to the front of the crowd. Mike saw him as well and helped push people aside to let him through. He was plenty excited!

"I just got off the phone with Jane Bigelow," he said breathlessly.

Wendy said, "Who?"

Ann smiled and put her arm around her. "The Mayor of London, Sweetheart," she explained.

Wendy looked surprised. "We have a woman Mayor?" she asked.

I laughed, remembering a recent conversation with the team about Sylvia Ostry being appointed the first female Deputy Minister of Canada. Things were looking up for women in politics in Canada. Though I remembered that Canada's only female Prime Minister, Kim Campbell, had not been voted in but had succeeded Brian Mulroney, and six months later she had been so roundly defeated in the general election that the party nearly lost its official standing, placing a disappointing fourth behind the Liberals, the Bloc Quebecois, and the Reform party. I shrugged. That was that life - this was now.

Jim had continued speaking and I heard something about the Mayor declaring March 7 to the 14^th as London Saints week. I had to shake my head. I was sure I heard that wrong. I looked at Jim, who was grinning from ear to ear. "When did you talk to the Mayor?" I asked. "The game only ended ten minutes ago, you couldn't have gotten to a phone, had that conversation, and back here that quick!"

He just smiled then said he had called the Mayor - who it turned out had been watching our progress for the past month - between the two games. She had told him then, if we won the Provincials, this was the declaration she would make. It was perfect timing on her part as well since the Nationals were to be held on the 13^th and 14^th.

An excited Annette grabbed me by the arm. "Did you hear?" she asked.

I looked at Jim who just shrugged. "I had to tell Bob," he said as a way of explanation.

I smiled at Annette. "Just don't you be getting a swelled head and start thinking this gets you out of track," I said.

Annette laughed and hugged me, then hugged Wendy and then hugged Einstein! There was a lot of hugging and kissing going on as the news spread. But the biggest surprise was yet to come.

There was to be an awards ceremony. After the referees managed to clear the floor, we girls headed to our change room. In an attempt to quiet our sudden nervous reaction to what was possibly the best match we had ever played, we took long, hot showers. Annette and Mandy sharing their shower time with Wendy and me.

As award ceremonies go, this was rather tame. I much preferred the medallions given to us at Robert's house, but we ended up with gold medals, while Sir John A's received silver. There was no third place in this tournament.

We stood at attention while the National anthem was played and then had to stay and pose for pictures for the press. And then the Minister of Education for Ontario, Thomas Wells, came forward to present the trophies. The TV cameras were still rolling. This was prime and free airtime for the Minister from Scarborough, and he was basking in it. The team captain for Sir John A's accepted the handshake, and Mr. Wells took the trophy for their team from one of his aides and, making sure to face the camera, smiled as he passed on the silver chalice.

When he held up the large gold trophy and attempted to hand it to Annette, she stepped back, as did every other girl in the team. Camera flashes went off like so many lightning strikes in a summer storm. We girls, Saints, all stood demurely with our hands behind our backs leaving the Honorable Minister looking befuddled. Sister Gabe folded her hands leaving Sister Elizabeth to try to explain.

Jim Blake ran forward to assist, and I had to stifle a laugh as I saw Mike and Ann come down from the stands, as well, following Bob and Hilda. Krissy's mother and father got up too, and the flashbulbs kept popping. People were milling around now as the contingency from London all gathered on the arena floor. I guess I wasn't totally surprised to see Brett Faison there also, but I was puzzled to see one of his assistants carrying a large piece of cardboard. At least that's what it looked like. Then it dawned on me what it was, and I stepped out of line to whisper into Annette's ear. She looked into my eyes, hers full of surprise and then enthusiastically nodded. She stepped closer to Sister Elizabeth and exchanged a few words. Sister Elizabeth thought for just a few seconds and then nodded as well.

Brett, being the professional television personality, caught the cues from Sister Elizabeth and took the microphone from the official. His practiced voice cut through the din and buzz of the auditorium and silence descended on the crowd leaving his words echoing from the walls.