White Horses On The Bay

Force 3: 7 - 10 Knots Gentle Breeze

Force 3: 7 - 10 Knots

Gentle Breeze

Large wavelets. Crests begin to break. Foam of glassy appearance. Perhaps some white horses.

Norma Sullivan Room 107, Twillingate Memorial Hospital

"Dot, you awake, Love? I'm feeling a little better now that nurse-whas-her-name tidied me up a wee bit. Getting old is right annoying, eh Dot? Everything leaks, and what ain't completely numb is right painful. I suppose that's life, though. I tell you, I wouldn't want to be young again. This world is too complicated now. Young people seem so angry all the time, especially over that Vietnam War. Why in hell is America sending its kids all the way over there? I don't think I could even point it out on a map. They should all just come home and let those Vietnam folks fight it out amongst themselves. The whole world's going to hell in a hand basket. I'm just waiting for the day I will see my James again and then I'll be done with this life.

Hope you don't mind my steady stream of visitors, my dear. First Nell and soon Fisher's supposed to be up here. Poor thing comes by nearly everyday. Misses his Grandma, I suppose. It's a good thing Nell feeds that boy. I bet he'd starve if it weren't for her taking care of him! He's a good boy, just not much of a cook. That's okay. Can't be talented at everything like our generation, eh Dot?

That Gwen's a good cook. It's going to her hips a bit, but don't say I said that. The other one, Gayle, well she can't boil a bloody egg. Strange how three kids are so different? Not a single one of them took after that sad mother of theirs. I suppose I'm being un-Christian now. Rest her soul, I guess.

You know Margaret didn't pay a tic of attention to those kids after my Edward died. Edward was the only child the good Lord gave James and me, and yet I picked up my britches and carried on. That's what you got to do in life or it will grind away at you till there's nothing left. My daughter-in-law got the depression pretty bad. She cried so long she dried right up like a bloody prune. You should have seen her, Dot. She was just like a ghost, she was. Took to drinking too. Smoked like a tilt, I'll tell you. Damn cigarettes are what ended up killing her. Stunk up the whole house, too. Poor kids. Those girls grew up without their mother even though she was right in the same blessed house. No wonder Gwen went and got pregnant before she finished school.

I remember that awful day. Gwen and her mom came home from Dr. Smith's clinic with the news. Ooh, it was a blowout. Doors slamming, Margaret screaming bloody murder, glass was all over the kitchen floor. I can still see Mr. Wright, our poor neighbour, running in through the back door with his shotgun thinking we were being robbed or worse. Gwen had that black eye for almost a month and she still has that chipped front tooth. Margaret never yelled much after that night. The thought of being a grandmother must have knocked the voice right out of her.

It was a bloody nightmare, I'll tell you. They had the wedding all planned, Randy didn't want to go through with it but Margaret wasn't going to let her daughter become the town tramp and there just wasn't enough money to ship her off to have that baby somewheres else. Had a lovely gown made - oh it was some dress, I'll tell you. Mabel Rabbits made it. She was a genius with a bolt of fabric and a spool of thread, that one. We had a party planned, Reverend Jones even agreed to show up, bless his heart, and then wouldn't you know it the baby ends up stillborn. God. What a mess. And then Dot, Gwen goes ahead and marries the bugger, anyway! Could never figure that one out. This time, next week they'll have five kids to look after. Five!

Where is that Fisher? I'm getting tired. I'm just gonna shut my eyes a wee bit and have a little rest before dinner. Hope you's feeling alright, there Dot."

~

Fisher was consumed by the events the afternoon. He could barely concentrate on his steps as he stumbled up the steep hill to Twillingate Memorial. The image of kissing Jenny squeezed every other thought from his mind but somehow it didn't matter. He wanted to hang onto this unexpected treasure of a moment in his otherwise empty life.

He took the steps of the hospital two at a time, humming to himself, and nearly knocked Nell off her feet as he blew through the front doors.

"Good God, Fisher, watch where you're going, my love! What's gotten into you?"

"Oh, hey. Sorry about that. I'm just in a hurry. How's Gran?"

"She's feisty today, my boy. I think she's got a few more good days left in that old body of hers."

"Great! There's someone I want her to meet. A girl I met this afternoon at the cemetery. She's a university student from Ottawa. Doing some kind of research or something."

"Is she now? Well, ain't that interesting." Nell said, winking at Fisher. She gave his cold cheek a little tweak. Fisher didn't mind Nell's teasing. He knew it came from a place of love. She was family to him, the kind of mother he wished his own had been.

If Norma Sullivan hadn't opened her home to Nell that cold snowy night a decade ago, Fisher might never had known the nicest person in town, or her beautiful daughter, Dinah. After Nell's husband's horrific death, the two of them would have moved south to Gander or even St. John's and survived on welfare. It was the year Dinah turned 12. Her father's accident on a merchant ship came as no shock to anyone and a sense of relief to Nell. He was a brute of a man who had little interest in his wife and too much in his daughter. His shore leaves were nothing more than drunken binges that left their rented home with bashed in walls and Nell with painful bruises to hide.

With Fisher's sisters married and out of their grandmother's home, there was plenty of extra room for Nell and her daughter. Although having Dinah sleeping down the hall and using the same bathroom was a source of adolescent frustration for him, Fisher was simply glad to have a built-in friend and a houseful of happy people for the first time in his life.

"Why don't you bring the girl over to the pub for a visit later on? I'll cook you up a nice romantic dinner, my love," Nell said.

"Sure. That sounds great. She's staying at the High C's. I'll see if she wants to join me for dinner, but if not, I'll be there, you can count on it."

Fisher pulled off his hat and continued on through the hospital doors. He turned and watched as Nell walked toward her truck in the parking lot and remembered Nell dancing in the pub at lunch. The thought of Nell being happy made him smile.

It took along time for Nell to get over Dinah's death. Working for Johnny Brown at the Twillingate Pub seemed to ease her pain at bit. It was Norma who had suggested it to Nell at dinner one night. 'You know, I feel it's a bit selfish of us, being the only ones to enjoy your wonderful cooking, my dear. You should be sharing your God-given talent with others,' Fisher remembered those exact words. It was the first time he had witnessed manipulation like that.

The way Norma planted the idea in Nell's shattered soul that way, was like she was sneaking a sunflower seed into a neighbour's garden. She knew someday there would be a glorious outcome. Johnny Brown the bachelor, although not much to look at, was a nice and gentle man. It seemed like a match made in heaven in Norma's mind. Nell and Johnny never made it to the altar, though. On the same day Johnny Brown realized he had no real interest in the business of beer, he found Jesus and decided to change his life. He left Twillingate and the deed to his place to Nell. Twillingate Pub became Dinah's Shore. Nell's life changed almost overnight.