July 19, 1862: So I took the turnkey job. I’ve already been given a rulebook to study (though I was surprised nobody actually thought to check if I could read it), will get a set of brand new uniforms, and I’ll have a place to live (with my family) in the front governor’s mansion. I’ll have almost full command over the inmates – enforcing the rules and schedule, doling out punishments, bestowing privileges – only the governor of the gaol and the sheriff will be in higher positions of authority than me and the other turnkey (a man by the name of George Johnston, or some such)…

Realistically speaking, though, I’m basically going to be a glorified guard with keys, and am not really sure what I think about it, yet…feels dangerously close to being some sort of goon.

But it’s the kind of job Alice wanted for me: stable, a decent paycheque, and much less dangerous than my current job (yes…working with the lowest dregs of Ottawa society will actually be safer than serving as head sawyer in the lumber mill). Anyway, she’s happy, so I’m happy. Her only frustration is that the new gaol won’t open for a few months’ yet – doesn’t understand why they can’t get me started in the old gaol. To be completely honest, though, I’m glad I won’t have to work there…it really is a stinking cesspool, and I’m perfectly happy to have nothing to do with it.

So until the new gaol opens, I’m keeping on at the mill. They tell me it won’t be long, though. At the very latest it’ll be open in October or November of this year.

Until then…