Though the mists of time may cloud my memory and the past hide itself behind a veil I remind myself daily that just because there are clouds in the sky today does not mean there will be no sunshine tomorrow.
THE RUSTY RED WAGON
Wheels grinding out sparkling stars, the huge Interurban screeched, grunted, groaned, gathered speed and pulled away from the station above Gladstone Road, indifferent to the plight of the four weary travelers trudging slowly along, twenty feet below the high bank of the rail lines. Stopping to look up as it sped to its next destination, each imagined how wonderful it would be - if they'd had the money – to be among those passengers who just got off; one of the lucky ones clambering down the long wooden stairs leading from the burnt-red waiting room. Instead, they had walked the three miles to, and the even longer three miles back from the nearest swimming hole. Always known as “The Lake,” it had, during the two years they lived under the shadow of the rail line, taken on the aspect of some unreal mystical place, appearing occasionally in conversation, but never to be seen. Today it had become a reality.* * * * * * * * * * * *
The Journey Begins
Running back and forth through a miserable splash of water reluctantly emitted by an old piece of garden hose tied to a pole, and pretending it was a waterfall, pretending it was cold, pretending it was fun wasn’t working for the three children. It was just too hot to pretend it was when it wasn’t, and besides the game was stupid. Today everything was just plain boring.
Maggie, their equally suffering mother, watched her three youngsters gamely trying to squeeze enjoyment out of the miserable excuse for a refreshing fall of water, and decided - no matter what - today was going to be the day she had promised them weeks before. It couldn’t possibly get any hotter she reckoned, wiping at the moisture running down her forehead, so today would be the day they’d swim in “The Lake!”
Slight and thin, Maggie was by most standards small, but not by hers. “Small? I am not small!” She would assert; dressing down anyone who dared dispute it. “I am five foot and a half inches, tall!” She would point out firmly. “I am not under, I am over 5 feet, and I do not wish to hear anyone say otherwise!” All who heard got the message. Maggie’s height was definitely not a subject for debate.
A true Scott, she was feisty when riled, but generous to a fault to anyone in need. Her health, always delicate, deteriorated after the birth of her youngest, Pearl. She now tired easily. A heart condition troubled her, a legacy left to her by a measles epidemic which had swept through Scotland when she was a child. Doctors warned repeatedly against over exertion. No matter. Even though she dreaded what the walk to the lake entailed, she was going to see to it that her children would have a day they would always remember. Today there would be a proper amount of water, cold water, to play in.
“Children!” Weary, sweating faces turned up to where she stood. “Remember when I told you that on the hottest day of the summer we would have a picnic at the the lake?”
Eyes widened, in hopeful, but doubtful, expectation.
“Well, today is the day!” All six sky blue eyes opened even wider, and a triple ear splitting, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” roared from the ecstatic trio.
“Yes indeed,” she laughed, “ today you’re going to splash in real cold water, no more pretending!” The elated siblings leapt up and down like puppets on a string. The promise of a real swim was a jolt of lightning to the children. The distance? Of no consequence in their young minds.
Scampering quickly out of their woolly bathing costumes they wrapped them in the old towels they’d been using to dry themselves, and rushed into the house to change. Ready now for the journey, towels and bathing trunks in hand, they ran whooping and hollering from the yard and down the street. Excited laughter flowed freely in anticipation of what they had dreamed of all through the hot summer. Finally they were going to see, and what was even greater, they were going to swim in, “The Lake.”
Little Pearly, in all innocence asked, “Are we going on the street car, Mommy?”
Maggie looked at her, a sad smile edging her face, “The street car? No, I’m afraid not sweetheart. It’s walking for us.” Ride on a street car? How she wished. Money was not only scarce it was absent. She hadn’t seen a coin in days, and if one were to turn up it certainly would not have been used on street car fare. So, walking it was.
The hard hot pavement; the dry roads swept with yellow dust; the relentless scorching heat, all took a certain edge off their laughter. The time it was taking to reach the lake lessened the childrens initial burst of energy, but it did not lessen their anticipation.
Pearl soon began to tire. In an effort to ease the long walk for her baby Maggie hefted her up, hoping she could manage it for a short while at least, but soon put her down. It was just not possible. Tiny though Pearl was she was five years old, and would just have to manage the long walk herself, Maggie couldn’t do it for her. The heavy pounding of her heart from the effort to carry her daughter had frightened her. No, she couldn’t! Her heart; the heat; the weight of her daughter, were all too much.
“Sorry, Pearly”, she said gently to her dust streaked little girl, “Mommy can't carry you anymore, you're a mite too heavy for me”. Pearl’s look at that moment would have melted the meanest heart, but she tempered it with a dramatic sigh of resignation, and said, “It’s okay, Mommy. Your icky, sticky, anyway.” Maggie laughed, pulling her into a bear hug.
They Arrive At Last
It couldn’t be long now, thought Maggie a half hour later as she wondered, and not for the first time, if she hadn’t been a mite foolish rushing them into this adventure; not fully thinking it through. The day’s heat was becoming unbearable for her, and she knew it certainly was for Pearl. She also worried about the boys, but they appeared to be coping quite well, though obviously sweat soaked. It surprised her that they’d been walking for almost two hours; maybe she had misjudged the distance.
Wishing for a moment, no matter how short, to get out of the sun she spied a large tree near the top of the road they were on. “Look over there, Pearl! Across the street and up a ways, see it? The big maple? There’s sure to be a lovely shady spot under it.” Taking Pearl by the hand Maggie hurried her across the shimmering road, and into a welcome pool of shade beneath the heavily leaved tree. “Isn’t it wonderful, Pearly?” she exclaimed, gratefully soaking in the refreshing cool ambiance. “Sit, my darling, we’ll all feel much better after a little rest.” The huge tree, an oasis from the heat, was a balm for the exhausted travelers. Wally and Geordie slowed a bit as well, allowing they’d spend a minute or two to cool down, but that was all, no way were they going to say they were getting tired.A short twenty minutes later, dust covered and exhausted, they arrived at their destination. In a blink the long walk was forgotten as the excited children threw themselves into the refreshing water. Its bracing, welcoming coolth renewed, and revitalized them. Bouncing laughter from one to the other, wildly flailing arms and legs splashing the blue of the water to a froth they played joyously, with the complete exhilarating abandon known only to children.
Maggie, tired and heat exhausted, sat herself on a log bench nearby, gratefully soaking her swollen feet; laughing with the happy trio as they raced across the beach and calling out encouragements as they chased each other in and out of the “magical” lake.
The coolness afforded by the healing comfort of the water slowly spread through her. The pleasure of its touch, the soothing breath of soft breezes eddying around her eased the exaggerated beating of her heart. It had been difficult, the walk, but as she watched her offspring, wild with glorious pleasure in their games, she had no doubts now as to the rightness of her decision
“The years. They go so fast,” she mused. “My little sweethearts grow older before my eyes, and all I am able to do is draw into myself every beloved memory of them I can.”
The Picnic
Before leaving on the long walk Maggie had packed a small picnic for the children. She had been able to find only three pieces of stale white bread. Smearing each piece with a thin layer of butter - scraped from a dish that had been set out for washing – she then sprinkled an equally sparse covering of white sugar over them - sugar carefully dusted from the bottom of a kitchen drawer. She had folded each piece lovingly in half, and wrapped it in its own Damask napkin. Maggie loved those beautiful Damask squares - a wedding present from her mother in Scotland. There had been other things, too. Treasured pieces of furniture, and precious odds and ends brought over from Aberdeen when she had emigrated to Canada, years before. Lovely things really, but they had been sold piece by precious piece to pay for a roof over their heads, and food for the little ones. She and her husband, Bill, would eat only after the children had been fed, and if there was only enough for the tikes, so be it, times would change. There were sure to be “better days.” It was the mantra of those times, intoned daily, for it held the promise of a brighter future.
Today, like yesterday, and many days before, there had not been enough, and Maggie had not eaten. Oh yes, she did manage a cup of tea before setting out, and in it the final drop of precious milk, and a pinch of the found sugar – for energy. Maggie loved white bread slathered with butter, and layered with sparkling diamonds of sugar. But those things were no longer a part of her life. Tough times? They assuredly were. But if Bill were lucky today and found some work, well then there would certainly be white bread, white sugar, and butter in the house again.
She thought of him now, remembering how he looked as he left the house that morning with the summer sun rising, walking into town with nothing in his stomach or his pockets. His boots, old when someone had thrown them away, too narrow for his wide feet, patched worn clothing that told nothing of the fine man who wore it. Each morning when she kissed him goodbye tears fell in her heart, as with his wonderful smile - to help her hold her day together – he set out to search, or beg (yes, she knew he did, there were children to feed ), for work.
THE JOURNEY BACK
Finally the hour arrived when the games had to stop, and the water that had cleansed more than the dust off their bodies shaken free. With sad faces and one last look back at the cool waters of the lake they headed for home, Each remembering the long journey there, and wondering if it would be as long a journey back.
The return walk was hard. What strength Maggie had gained at the lake was soon used up, spent on hot asphalt pavements and dusty dirt roads. She was tired, very tired. If she hadn't known better she would have sworn the distance had doubled. Her mind was numb from exhaustion, her feet moved forward without any motivation from her.But finally, an awareness that the landscape was becoming familiar seeped into he mind, a welcome sign that the long trek was coming to an end. Soon, she told herself, soon they'd be home. For Pearl it had been too much, and she understood that she was far too young to have had to endure the long trek– but the boys. The boys surprised her. She marveled at their stamina, did they never tire? There certainly was no question as to which parent's genes coursed through their veins.Amazing she thought – their ability to create games out of nothing. Right now, even after their tiring walk - soon be done - they were busily involved in a game. A game obviously of their own doing which seemed to consist of collecting stones with a similar shape, color, or size; pooh-poohing the other person choices as they forced similarities into their own various finds
. She glanced down at Pearl, a sweaty little hand clutching bravely onto her dress, afraid to let go in case she might drop. She had tried so very hard to be brave, but the long walk had become too much for her. She had begged over and over again to be carried. Maggie had certainly tried, losing count of the many times she had grunted the child into her arms only to put her down almost immediately. The continual effort finally removing from her any vestige of strength. Her arms now felt heavy and useless, like weights pulling her down. A fear of falling kept nagging at her, brought on by the growing unsteadiness in her legs. Finally her fear won out, and though home was so very near, she could not find enough strength in her body to take one more step.Spent, utterly exhausted, she sat herself down on the withered grass at the edge of the road; pulling Pearl down beside her.“A moment, Pearly, only a moment. Mommy needs just a tiny rest. And you? You’d like that too, wouldn’t you?” She wished to be able to just pick up her daughter and run home with her, away from the dust and the heat; longing to throw off the sweat drenched clothes that clung so uncomfortably to their overtired bodies.
MAGGIE COLLAPSES
Weary, without any of the joy of the day left to help her on Pearl sank into herself, able only to heave a very heavy sigh. Maggie gently wiped away the sweat running down the tiny dirt streaked face, softly reassuring her that home was very near. "We'll sit for a moment, catch our breaths, and before you know it the house will be right in front of us.” If it were only so easy, she thought.
Squinting along the street in the direction of their home she strained to catch a glimpse of the gray stuccoed stack of the chimney, usually visible about three blocks before the sad frame of the house itself came into view. Even the peeling paint on the clapboard siding would be a welcome sight.
Swaying as she stood up, but determined to make it to the house, Maggie moved unsteadily down the road, holding the drooping Pearl’s hand. Home was getting so near; the red station shelter was now just above them. Stopping to watch as a Tram pulled in they marveled – as always – at the intrepid passengers who would jump from the bottom tread of the train’s steps even before it came to a halt. For a moment Maggie and the children watched and dreamed, then as the train moved forward they too moved on.
Finally, there it was, she caught a glimpse of the house in the distance. The gray tower of its chimney coming into view urging her on. Yet it seemed the faster she hurried towards it the more it appeared as though it were moving further away. She stumbled, almost falling as she found herself squinting into a swirling gray mist that seemed to be enfolding the house. As the mist grew darker her legs became more leaden, and try as she might refused to move. Suddenly the invading gray mist disappeared, replaced by an embracing black; with her last bit of strength gone Maggie slumped gratefully to the ground, leaving a frightened little girl staring down at the crumpled form of her mother.
“Mo. . .m. . .my?” A worried whisper.
“Mommy?” Confused and frightened she placed a tentative hand on her mother's cheek.
The boys, almost half a block ahead were startled by a sudden scream from Pearly, and then her frightened voice crying, “Geordie! Wally! Mommy’s gone to sleep! Why’s Mommy’s gone to sleep?”
Looking back from where they’d knelt - pouring over their spoils - the boys couldn't quite take in what they’d heard.
“Wally, Geordie!” She screamed, “Come and see! Hurry!” The fright in her voice told the brothers to make it quick.
THE CHILDREN TAKE CHARGE
Geordie was first to arrive, the gamest of the two, the first to jump in to help in any situation. Geordie had the ability to gear into action at a moment's notice, assessing a situation so quickly it spooked some, leaving others to wonder whether he wasn’t, in truth, a midget masquerading as a child. Wally, on the other hand, did not like to be confronted with anything that might need a quick decision. More reserved than his siblings he much preferred to be left in the background, to come forward if there was nothing else to do but join in. The injunction “children should be seen and not heard,” had a greater impact on him than the other two. All he needed was to be given time to adjust to an unusual situation; allow him a moment or two of panic and confusion before he was of much use. Pearl, a practical child, preferred to have appearances explained, get to the heart of things, even if what she would learn might possibly frighten her.
“Why's Mommy sleeping, Geordie, it isn't bedtime?”
Concerned for his mother, and understanding the distress in his sister's voice he could only say,“I don't know, Pearl. I wish I did, but I don't.” Frightened himself, but wanting to stop the tears beginning to well in his sisters eyes he knelt in front of her.
“Don't cry, Pearl. Maybe she's just very tired. It was a long way to the lake and back, and Mommy's a lot older than us.”
He wondered if his little sister had seen that their mother had not made a sandwich for herself. He'd forced his down when Maggie caught his eye, shaking her head not to let the little one know, telling him to eat up his portion. If Wally had been aware that his mom had gone without he didn't show any sign of it, he simply moved a short way from the others, and quickly gobbled down his prettily wrapped picnic. His big brother could cry easily, and maybe he was doing that, feeling guilty as well, but he was also terribly hungry.
While Geordie tried to comfort Pearl and decide on a plan of action, Wally was doing his “thing”. His thing at the moment being to run circles around the inert form of his mother, mouthing, “Oh! Oh!” over and over. He was hoping his little brother would come up with a way to solve the problem quickly before he, Wally, decided that the best strategy for himself would be tears.
Geordie looked at Wally, then Pearl, then his mother who, though he had been gently shaking her, had given no sign she was coming out of her faint. Then he looked at two houses equal distance from where they now stood. A large three story ugly green one was to his right, and a smaller, and neater little yellow and white one with a wooden gate and cement path leading to it was on his left.
“Pearl”, he said quietly, “you stay here with Mommy while Wally and me go knock at those two houses. Maybe someone will be home and able to help us. Don't move away, you can watch us from here. We'll be right back. Okay?”
Nodding yes, her eyes floating tears, she squatted down beside her mother's still form, and cautiously slipped her hand into hers. Looking back at Geordie she again nodded yes.
Geordie touched her lightly on the head as he called, “Come on Wally! Let's go look for someone who can maybe help us. You knock at the green house, I'll go to the other one!”
Wally looked at the long flight of steps to the front door of the house assigned to him.
“Let me go to the other house, Geordie, I'd feel better knocking on that one!”
Geordie bit back the words ready to jump out when he saw the frightened look in his brother's eyes, “Okay, Wally, we'll trade. Now let's go!”
As Geordie ran across the weedy excuse for a lawn and up the unpainted stairs of his target house, Wally scuffed towards his destination. Pushing open the wooden gate he ambled down the cement walk, counted the two steps up onto the small veranda, and found himself facing a screen door, which he studied for a moment then reluctantly pulled open.
Slowly lifting the knocker on the now exposed front door he carefully considered what he was about to do. Deciding first on a deep breath he took it, swallowed, released the knocker, and stumbled backwards from the unexpected volume of the dull, unmusical clunk produced by the knockers announcing his presence.By the time Wally had managed to steel himself to pull back the screen door on the yellow house Geordie had knocked a number of times on the door of the green one, to be answered only by reverberating echoes rummaging through the rooms. He ran back to Pearl to watch his brother tentatively lift the knocker and let it fall. Upon getting no reply from his one attempt Wally looked over at Geordie, shrugged his shoulders, and turned to walk away.
“Knock again, Wally!” Geordie called out. “Not just once, keep knocking!”
Feeling he done his best, but not wanting to upset his brother, he knocked again.
“Really loud, Wally! Really, really loud!” Geordie urged, while already forming another plan.
“No one's home, Geordie, no one's home!” Geordie heard the beginnings of hysteria beginning to surface in his brother’s voice.
“Okay! Wally! Okay!Yeah, looks like it!” Signaling his brother to come back he added, “Don’t worry, no one's at the other house either!”
He glanced down at Pearl slouched beside her mother, both hands over her eyes, her slight frame heaving as she sniffed back sobs. Kneeling he gently pulled her hands away.
“Pearly?”
Pale blue eyes looked out at him above welling tears; small blocked streams preparing to rush over their banks at the slightest breech. She did allow a few drops to escape, but held back the waiting flood because she believed in him. Geordie would know what to do.
“Pearly, do you think you could sit here beside Mommy for a little while longer while me and Wally run home and get the wagon?”
“The wagon?” Queried Wally, coming up behind Geordie and taken aback by the odd remark.“Why? Why would you...what do you want with the wagon?”
That surprised Geordie, Wally was usually much brighter than that.
“To put Mom in!” He snapped.
“To put Mom. . .?”
“Use your head, Wally!” Geordie growled.
“Okay! Okay! Don't get mad at me. . . I was only asking!” He threw back at him.
“I'm sorry Wally, okay? I'm sorry, I just thought you'd guess.”
“Well, I didn't, so there!” A deep breath, “And you don't have to yell at me.”
“I said I'm sorry, and I am.” He didn't want to fight, he and Wally hardly ever did. “I'm frightened too, Wally, but we have to do something. There's no grown-ups around, and Dad won't be back for, well, maybe a long time, so the best thing is if we can get Mom home. Anyway, maybe she'll wake up soon. Maybe even before we're back with the old wagon. Maybe, eh?”
“Yeah!” Wally said, and looked down at his sister. “Okay Pearl, we'll be back in minute, or even less,” he added, turning to his brother. “Won't we Geordie?”
“Yeah, sure! Maybe even less if we’re lucky.”
Wally reached out and took his sister's hand. “Like Geordie said, maybe Mom will wake up real soon. Won't that be great?”
Pearl nodded, managing a brave smile. She was glad she had brothers, especially older ones.
THE RUSTY RED WAGON
Running as fast as their young legs could pump, glancing back at Pearl a couple of times to see if she'd be alright, the boys sped down the cracked sidewalk, skipped over the larger potholes, and with one last look at their sister raced across the yard, and scurried around to the back of the house. Pushing open the rickety makeshift door leading under the house they peered into the incipient gloom of the basement area. The crawly feeling they felt each time they entered the basement came back. It was a not nice goose bumpy feeling that something was lurking in distant dark corners. Not someone, but something. Something that didn’t really belong beneath the tiny two bedroom house. After a moment, when their young eyes had adjusted to its familiar dimness and they had shaken off the crawly feeling for the umpteenth time they set in to find the wagon. Ducking beneath the clutching cobwebs forever hanging from the rafters - no matter how often they knocked them down - they searched, and searched, wondering where beneath the endless junk left behind by scores of earlier tenants it could possibly be buried.
Every alcove was gone into. Empty spaces behind years of dilapidated unwanted furniture were quickly searched and even more quickly exited, prompted by the fear of being chased by hordes of spiders eager to wrap them in sticky strands, and drag them into their webs.
“It must be here Wally,” said Geordie, scratching a sudden itch on his neck. “ I'm sure you didn't leave it somewhere and forgot it.”
“Me? I didn't leave it anywhere! You could of you know. It is possible Geordie, you're not so perfect!” Wally shot back, stamping his feet into the dirt floor, spewing up dust and fallen cobwebs.
“Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! I said I'm sure you didn't!” Contrite at riling Wally again, his usual placid nature was suffering from the effects of his mother's collapse. “I just remember that you were playing with it last.”
“Yeah, but I put it back! I remember that. It was really dark in here so I just shoved it in and slammed the door. I do know I brought ...There it is! I told you it was here! Under that smelly old mattress! Yuck! It must have fallen over onto the wagon when I threw it in.” Wally shouted, vindicated.
The dusky basement was a world of fantasy for the children. A wonderful place in which to be happily frightened when they played their games of monsters; goblins; mummies, and other terrifying things. Games that gave them goose-bumps, and sent them squealing out into the sunlight.
But for the moment all that was forgotten as the boys dragged the wagon out from under the old mattress. Taking turns pulling it they ran quickly back to the sad tableau waiting for them at the edge of the sidewalk, a block and a half away.“Did Mom wake up, Pearly?”
“No, Geordie, she didn't even move and I've been watching and watching.” Her lips quivered, but wishing to show she could be as brave as her brothers, she was holding everything in. Geordie gave her a hug, Wally stood back, took stock, then stepped forward and held her as well.
Kneeling beside his mother, Geordie gently brushed a hand across her hair. The warmth coming from her body gave him the needed assurance that she was okay; even though she was so very still.
Suddenly jumping up he took command.“Okay, let's lift Mom into the wagon!” He was now the captain of their little outpost, and the wounded had to be taken to safety.
“Come on, Wally,” he urged, “ there’s no time to stand back trying to decide what to do first. Move!”
“You’re doing it again, Geordie!” Wally growled at his younger sibling. “Stop bossing me around! I'm the oldest so I should be in charge!”
“Sure,” Geordie threw back at him, “you take charge and we'll be here till tomorrow morning!”
Pearly pushed herself between the brothers as they moved closer to each other, ready for battle. “Please, Geordie, Wally, don't fight! Please! If you don’t stop right now I’m going to cry.”
Her eyes, screwed up like the banks of a river doing its best to hold back a flood, blinked furiously at them. Her unhappiness so blatant, her admonishing so right both boys were compelled to look down at the ground, shamed by their little sister.
To get past the painful moment Geordie tried a new tactic. “Sorry again, Wally, Pearl.” Wally’s face still registered how cross he was, but he accepted Geordie's apology. Pearl smiled shyly from under lowered eyes. Feeling he managed to ease things up a bit Geordie continued. “ I didn’t mean it the way it sounded, really.” Silence greeted that admission. “ Well, anyway, I think it better if the three of us work this out, together.” Four eyes stared at him, startled by this new approach. “So, what do you think is best, Wally, lift up Mom's feet first, or her head?”
Wally, flattered by the deference, and mollified by Geordie backing down, thought for a moment - a very small moment for him - and said, “Maybe we should. . . you know. . .get her top part. . . you know. . . her head up first.”
Geordie, relieved that the tenseness of the moment before was gone said, “Good idea, Wally. You agree, Pearly?”
Included in the decision, the waiting flood receded a little more. Shaking her head, thoughtfully she said, “Wally's right. It does seem best.”
Pushing and pulling, struggling with the surprising dead weight of their totally slack mother they doggedly labored over her inert form, but were unable to manage it. They couldn’t even get one arm into the wagon without the other arm slipping out. Though Pearl gamely held her mom's head, heavy beyond what she could have imagined, she finally gave up.
“She's too heavy, Geordie, I can't do it. I just can't.”
If he had known beforehand that a body could be so impossibly difficult to move Geordie would have thought of some other way to go about it, but now he had to face the fact it wasn't going to work. Walking away from his brother and sister to have a quiet think he again looked up and down the street hoping that someone had seen them, someone who could come and help. But, it looked like that wasn't going to happen either.
A sudden cry from Pearl startled him. “Geordie! Wally! Quick, quick!”
Spinning around, Geordie gaped at the sight of his mother struggling to raise herself up.
With various degrees of elation and fear, the three of them hugged and held her, the ash gray color of her skin, too much like the shade of white they associated with ghosts frightened them, but being children fascinated them as well.
MAGGIE WAKES UP
Maggie, still in a stupor from her long faint, licked curiously at her lips, searching for some moisture to take the thickness from her mouth. Her frantic breathing, quick and unsteady, dried her mouth even further. Struggling through the fog still clouding her mind, she attempted to clarify her thoughts, now tumbling around her brain like a fallen bag of marbles. The fainting she remembered, the darkness and then falling, that would be why she was sitting on the dry grass, but the red wagon, what was it doing here? She was sure they had not taken it to the lake, and how clever if they had. What a difference it would have made for Pearl. The children! How were the children? And what are they saying, tripping over each other with their questions? The poor darlings, they must have been so worried. She looked groggily at her precious brood, and with a shaking hand reached out to gently brush the cheeks of each in turn.
Swallowing, the terrible dryness making it difficult, she attempted to speak, but only whispers of the words formed on her lips. She couldn't get them out. Turning to Wally she tried to ask for water, but he had no idea what she was saying. It sounded to him like when you get hit in the stomach and it knocks the wind out of you.
“What, Mommy”? He asked.
“Whaaaeh.” She was so tired, wanting only to fall back into exhausted sleep..
The children looked at each other, confused by sounds that for them had no relation to words. Then Geordie caught it, “I know!”
“What? What?” The other two shouted.
“It's water! That's what she's saying, Wally! Mom wants some water. Hurry! Run!”
No arguing this time. Wally ran.
Racing into the house he grabbed a mug, filled it from the kitchen tap, and falling over his own feet in his rush to get back showered everything on the way with flying droplets. Fortunately most of the precious liquid stayed in the cup.
Geordie, taking it from a reluctant Wally, knelt beside his mother.
“Okay, Wally, Pearl, you two hold up Mom's head, I'll hold the mug for her.” Geordie found it quite difficult to not be Geordie, even for a while.
Maggie tried as best she could to help. Pressing her arms into the summer scorched grass she forced her exhausted body into a sitting position, eager for the water's cool wetness. As she sipped at the soothing liquid the dark cloud in her head began to dissolve, and a fragile strength slowly returned to her body.
“My darlings,” she said to her trio of rescuers, her speech breathy with exhaustion, “Mommy is so proud of you, you've been brave, and wonderful.” She paused, gathering energy.“I'm sorry, it must have frightened you when I fainted, but it happened so quickly.”
“Fainted?” quizzed Pearl, “What's fainted? I thought you fell asleep, Mommy!”
“Well, it is a kind of sleep, Pearly, but it happens when you least expect it, and Mommy certainly didn't expect it.”
Geordie wasn't fooled. “You were hungry, Mommy, that's why it happened.”
Maggie, smiled weakly and nodded, “I probably was Geordie, I probably was.”
The children looked at each other, then back at their mom, Wally made the first move. “I knew you didn't make a sandwich for yourself Mom, and I felt so bad not offering you some of mine, now I'm so sorry.” Tears began to collect at the edge of his eyelids..
“Now, now Wally, enough now, please don't say any more. It was Mommy's decision.”
She couldn't bear the eyes that looked with so much love at her, imagining what must have been going through their minds as they hovered around a mother, sprawled out death like on the grass. She had to take from those young faces the look of too much sadness and sorrow, experienced too soon.
“Come, children, help Mommy up and we'll play the game of “Let's Make A Wish”. She fought back a brief moment's dizziness.
“A game, Mom?” queried Geordie. “Right now? I don’t think it’s the time to play a game. Shouldn't we just try and get you home, and wait for Dad?
“Yes, yes! Geordie, that too, that's what I was going to suggest as well.”
Blond curls bouncing as she jumped up and down Pearl much preferring her mother’s first suggestion yelled, “Yes, yes, I like playing that game, Mommy!
“Well, as you're the youngest Pearl, I guess you should go first. That alright, boys? What do you say?” Maggie said, her eyes telling the boys how to answer.
Shrugging their shoulders they both said, “Okay!”
But Pearly had decided as well, and announced, “I think Mommy should go first, because she said let’s play the wishes game, that makes her firsties. That’s what I think anyway.”
The three of them looked at the determined little girl, her mouth set in decision. The boys said they agreed, and Maggie, shaking her head laughed and accepted.
Helped by the children, she got to her feet, and looking more closely at the rusted wagon said in astonishment, “You were going to pull me home in that?”
“Yep,” Geordie replied proudly, “when you didn’t wake up, Wally and me rushed home and got it. We tried to get you into it but you were too heavy for us, even with Pearly helping. Then you woke up.”
TIME FOR GAMES
Maggie smiled, looked again at the wagon then at the three faces looking up at her, and sat herself down into the bucket of the old wagon. Sedately pulling up her legs to fit inside she turned to the waiting children. Enjoying their surprised and wondering looks she said, “I have made my wish, and my wish is that you are. . .horses,” she commanded, mimicking a queenly voice, “and I am a princess seated in my lovely red carriage impatiently waiting to be drawn to my royal castle by your powerful bodies! Come! Come! My noble beasts. Giddy-up! Giddy-up!”
“Horses, horses, great big horses!” the children cried - Pearl called them horsies -and quickly following their mother’s lead dove into the game; giggling and laughing as they pranced back and forth. Grasping the wagon's handle the boys, now transformed into great magnificent beasts, grunted and puffed, neighing in good horse like fashion as they pulled their mother, the lady of the castle, to her royal home. Pearly galloped around and around the wagon, squealing with joy.
Arriving in triumph at the front stairs the boys stopped, scratching their hooves into the soil in real horse like fashion. Looking first at each other, then at their mother, they wondered how they were supposed to get her up into the house - not sure if horses could climb stairs. Maggie, aware of their dilemma, lifted a hand and held it out to them.
“Well, coachmen, I’m ready. Why are you waiting?” She said regally, twiddling her fingers as she further offered them her hand.
“Coachmen? I thought we were horses?” queried Geordie and Wally together.
“Yes, yes, my good men, of course you were, but now you are my coachmen, and I am a Princess, so you must take my hand and help me from my carriage.”
“Oh?. . Oh! Yeah, sure! Sorry, Mom. . .er. . . your Princess!” they said, reaching quickly for her outstretched hand.
Giving her much needed support as she lifted herself shakily out of the wagon, the boys led her to the stairs. Holding firmly onto the steep railing they moved slowly upwards, the boys carefully judging each step.
At the top, puffed from the exertion, Maggie lowered herself onto the edge of the porch, and closed her eyes.
“Don't faint again, Mommy, don't, please!” begged Pearl.
“No, no, I'm not going to do that, Pearly, I was just resting before we play the “Just Imagine” game.”
“You promise.”
“I promise, my darling.”
Geordie, surprised at the mention of a further game asked, "Why another game, Mom?"
"Don't you think it's a good time to imagine something nice, Geordie? I certainly do, and besides, it would please me if we did."
"Okay." Geordie, resigned to his mother's request nodded at Wally to agree.
Picking it up Wally added, "Sure, Mom, it's a fun game, besides it always makes you laugh".
“Oh, I love the “Just Imagine" game!” Pearl cried. “But you go first Mommy, you start!”
“Again? Oh, Pearly.”
With the boys attentively watching their mother, and Pearl eagerly awaiting her turn, Maggie began.
“Alright. Now let’s each of us imagine that Daddy found work today!"
There was a whoop from all three of them at that.
"Yes! That would be really wonderful, wouldn't it? And, when he comes home he'll surprise us with all kinds of packages filled with lovely things to eat."
Laughing, getting into the mood of the game, the youngsters threw in the appropriate oohs and aahs mixed with all kinds of lip smacking sounds.
"Now, let's imagine all the lovely things hiding inside those bags. Oh! I can see all our favorite things! Now let’s see. . .there would be potatoes, and corn, maybe some carrots and peas. . .”
An incipient darkness was again preparing to invade her. She could feel its misty fingers reaching in, swirling through her, attempting to take possession; and again her heart began its wild, painful beating. She struggled to carry on, to continue the game; praying the children could not sense the panic beginning to creep through her, or notice that words she was trying so hard to get out were tripping over each other.
“And then. . .and. . .what about. . .
Her tongue refused to form the words she wanted to say.
a . . . a pound of ham. . .burger, yes. . .or. . .hmmm. . .something even. . .even. . .nicer. . .?"
The children shot worried glances at each other as she struggled to go on.
“Maybe. . .
It wasn’t working, she couldn’t do it.
. . .a lovely cake or pudding and a . . .
She stumbled, and tears began to fill her eyes.
a . . .oh yes, yes. . .and . . . white . . .sugar. . .lots and lots of white. . . sugar, and bread and. . .then. . . and then. . .Mommy will make us . . . a. . .beau. . .t. . . ful. . .su. . .p. . .p. . ."
Unable to continue she covered her face from the children and wept.
A HAPPY ENDING
Geordie, as frightened as the others but afraid for the growing fear in his sister’s eyes said, “Mommy's just tired Pearl, she really needs to lie down for awhile. Don’t you, Mommy?"
Maggie gave no acknowledgment of his question. Aware that he must do something and quickly, he took hold of his mother's shoulders and shook her gently, then again adding a bit more force. With a sudden jolt Maggie's eyes flew open, and though she tried to focus on Geordie's face it was too near, but she could see the faces of the others, and in them the realization that she had fainted again.
Rushing in Geordie said, "I asked if you'd like to lie down Mommy, but you fell asleep so fast, right here, on the porch, before you could answer me. So, would you?" He was sure he hadn't fooled his brother and sister, but it didn't matter, at least his mother hadn't stayed fainted for as long as before.
Maggie, grateful for Geordie's quick reaction, nodded and said, “Yes, I would like that. . .but just for a little. . .just a little while.”
She managed, with help from the children to stand. Staggering slightly she moved into the house, leaning on Geordie to steady herself. Pearl followed, and Wally, a hand pressed over his mouth ran in the direction of the kitchen. Falling heavily onto her bed Maggie broke down completely, sobs racking her thin frame.
Pearl and Geordie, dismayed by their mother's heavy weeping, and wishing to comfort her, wrapped their arms around her trembling body, and held her. The shaking sobs, eased by the love of her children, began to subside. Giving her a final hug they backed away, to stand in miserable silence in the doorway.
A few minutes later. “Move, Geordie, Pearl!” Wally ordered, pushing between them, a cup and saucer in his hands.
“Mommy, are you asleep?” he asked
“No, not quite, dear.” she mumbled.
“I brought you some tea. I put a drop of water in the milk bottle and shook it. . .well. . . it sorta looked like milk. . .anyway, it looks nice.”
Lifting her head from the pillow she looked hard at her eldest son. Such a gentle face, his blue eyes filled with a tenderness so much older than his years.
“Thank you, Wally, it's just what I needed. Put it on the side table, I'll let it cool a little. How clever of you, with the milk, such a lovely thing to do. Thank you, son.” She saw the other two at the door and taking them all in said, “Let Mommy have a little sleep now. Do you mind? A real sleep Pearly, don't worry. By the time Daddy gets back I'll be fine. Thank you, darlings, you run and play now. I told you, Mommy's going to be fine.”
Consternation on all three faces, yet not wanting to disturb their mom any longer the children quietly closed the bedroom door, and moved back onto the front porch. Crowding together they went over the events of the past hour, then on to the fun they'd had at the lake, then to wish their dad would be home soon.
The boys, so completely engrossed in getting across their own version of what took place that afternoon were unaware of their father standing absolutely still at the foot of the stairs, a huge grin lighting up his face. He watched as Geordie did a Geordie, taking charge of the lively discussion going on between he and Wally, emphasizing emphatically some vital point he wanted to get across. Pearl had moved away from the boys and was sitting daintily on the top step, thinking her own thoughts and completely involved in carefully fluffing out the hem of her faded cotton dress. As she brushed the back of her fingers along the dress to push it over her knees she caught sight of her father.
“Daddy, Daddy!” she cried, rushing down to him.
Jumping up at her cry the boys flew down the stairs behind their sister calling out, “Mommy! Mommy! Daddy's home!”
Laughter akin to an explosion of stars burst from their dad as he quickly shifted a heavily laden grocery bag into his already occupied left arm, freeing his right to reach out and embrace the wide eyed trio.
Interurban train stopped at Gladstone St.,Station, Vancouver,B.C. March 25, 1952
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