After putting on the clothes of Anne Clarke's late father and finishing the meal she'd offered, Leon announced that he would be leaving.
It wasn't that he was ungrateful—far from it—but he could feel the grandmother's quiet wariness. There were only two women living here, grandmother and granddaughter, and the granddaughter was strikingly beautiful. It was natural for them to be cautious of a strange young man who had washed up from the sea.
Besides, even here in Vancouver, life wasn't cheap. The little house in Steveston had only two rooms; it was simple, clean, and clearly hard-earned. Leon, who was healthy and able, didn't want to impose on them any longer than necessary. He had already made up his mind: once he got back on his feet, he would return and repay their kindness—properly.
"Leon, you've just arrived in Vancouver and don't know anyone yet. Take this—just a bit to get by."
The grandmother took out a small handkerchief from her pocket, unfolded it slowly, and pulled out a crumpled ten-dollar bill. She pressed it into his hand before he could protest.
"Grandma, I can't take your money," Leon said quickly.
He knew times were hard. Wages were low, and prices kept climbing. For ordinary families like theirs, every dollar mattered. Yet even so, she was willing to help him.
"How can a young man walk around with empty pockets?" she said softly. Her voice was gentle, but her eyes—clouded with age—held a kind of quiet strength. "If you can't find work right away, at least this will keep you from going hungry."
"Leon, just take it," Annie chimed in, her tone bright but insistent. "Grandma and I collect shellfish by the docks and sell them at the market. I can earn a few dollars a day by myself!"
Leon felt a pang in his chest. He didn't want to take it, but refusing now would only hurt their feelings. So he accepted the money, vowing silently that he would return it tenfold.
"Thank you, Grandma. I'll come back as soon as I start earning," he promised, then turned to Annie with a faint smile. "Study hard. Next time I visit, I'll bring you something sweet."
Annie tilted her head, cheeks slightly flushed. She was slender and tall for her age, but still young enough to look up to him. "Hmph, I don't need sweets," she said stubbornly, then added with a grin, "I want a butter tart—one with lots of filling!"
Leon laughed softly. "Deal."
After leaving their small house, Leon caught a bus into Steveston's town centre, then transferred toward downtown Vancouver. The ride took nearly an hour.
His first stop was the local registry office, where he managed to apply for a new identification card and driver's license, having lost both in the robbery that nearly took his life.
With valid papers again, Leon was no longer just a nameless drifter. But now came the real challenge—survival.
Even in the early fifties, Vancouver's economy was heating up fast, and prices were climbing with it. A modest room in a boarding house cost a few dollars a day, and a simple boxed meal ran at least fifty cents. The ten dollars from Grandma Clarke wouldn't last long.
Finding work became his top priority.
After a day of walking through streets lined with diners, pubs, and corner cafés, he finally managed to find a small job—as a bartender at a local tavern. His shift started in the late afternoon, leaving his mornings free.
The pay wasn't much—three dollars a day, plus meals—but for now, it was enough to survive.
As the days passed, Leon kept a steady routine, waking early for a morning jog. Nearby, a modest boxing gym caught his eye, and he enrolled there to stay in shape. He trained regularly, focusing on strength and endurance.