White Horses On The Bay

The Lions Hall

~

Jenny and Fisher sat for a few moments in the front seat of Gwen's car, watching the crowd file into the Lions Hall with their fruit pies and trays of food. "I can't believe how many people are streaming into this place," Jenny said. "Where are they all coming from?"

"Well, these shindigs are right popular with the townsfolk and people from the smaller ports around the bay: Hart's Cove, Wild Cove, Back Harbour. They're like ants converging on a piece of pink gum, eh?" Fisher looked past Jenny at the Lions Hall and pointed to the pink building. "A few years ago, the Lions Club purchased the old marine supply building at the far end of the bay here and turned it into a community hall. There was a work bee of members and we painted the place that bubble-gum pink to make it easy to spot from land or sea."

The Lions Hall was the last place on the edge of town just below the cliffs of Wild Cove. It was set back on a crescent moon of a beach. A dock running off the front of the building provided moorage for the overflow of fishing trawlers and there were two of them tied up that night. The entire building sat on pilings that lifted it up off the shore to protect it from the winter ice flows that could rip a structure from the harbour like it was made of paper Mache.

"Looks like they're having fun," Jenny said as she watched several boys playing under the building, running back and forth around the creosote stained pilings.

"Well, actually, that's dangerous. The tide is out right now, but when it comes in, it comes in pretty fast and can catch you off guard. The high tide almost touches the hall's floorboards when it's at its height. Those kids are not supposed to play there, the little buggers." Fisher turned the engine off. "I guess we should head on in. You ready?"

"Should I be nervous?"

"Well, you know, being a come-from-away and all. I would be."

"A what?"

"Oh, that's just what we call people who aren't from here."

"Wouldn't stranger be easier?"

"I suppose so, Stranger. Yes, it's much easier. Let's go in and see if we can find a table."

Fisher jumped out of his sister's car and went around to open Jenny's door. "See, there are a few punts making their way across the bay, right now, just out by the iceberg. That chop coming up may mean some will have to tie up overnight and bunk in with friends, or maybe stay at the High Cs. Mrs. Laidlaw loves a good storm."

"Just look at that beautiful iceberg! Oh, Fisher you're so lucky to have such amazing natural wonders right here whenever you want to see them. The only ones I've ever seen are in Lawren Harris paintings at The McMichael. I can see why he felt compelled to paint such astounding scenes."

"There are usually tons of them this time of year, Jenny. You're in luck. Some years there are none. Depends on the weather. Some days, there's a whole flotilla of them just passing by. It's amazing to watch them appear as the morning fog lifts." Fisher stood on the edge of the road and stared at the spectacle before him, almost as though he was seeing it for the first time. "It is pretty awesome, I have to admit."

"By the way, I love your haircut. I forgot to mention it. Very Paul Newman," Jenny said.

"Do you think Mrs. Laidlaw will approve? She was quite adamant that I tend to it before I took her special guest anywhere."

"Well, I like it. And your grandmother is right; you are handsome, " Jenny said, hooking her arm through Fisher's.

"Before we go in, I just want to mention that my sisters are in there with their families. They are, well, kind of, how shall I put this? Loud. Try not to take them too seriously."