It’s late spring in Jasper, 1940. There is still snow in the mountains, but its melted up to 2,000 meters and the town is green-ish. There’s a woman riding her bike down Connaught Drive in her shirt sleeves and a kid is tearing through the alley connecting Connaught to Miette Avenue, as if his mother, standing in front of the Ladies Wear shop with her arms crossed, has given him a nickel to get a ...