AT 29 (29 page)

“I'm working days just so I can come here at night. I'd need to find a job in New York.”

“No, no,” Charlie cut in, “this is fulltime at good pay. I also own an apartment building. You'll do okay financially and be able to concentrate on your music. In fact, that's all I want you to do.”

“It's your best option,” Pinky said, expecting an answer.

Charlie spoke again, “I realize this is a big step.” He reached into the inside pocket of his immaculately tailored sports jacket and pulled out a business card, handing it to Jimmy. “The offer's good for two weeks. Give me a call if you have any questions.”

Pinky stood up, signaling an end to the meeting. Jimmy shook hands with Charlie, glancing at Pinky, thoroughly confused. As the older man left, he studied the card. On the back was a dollar sign followed by an amount seven times his current earnings.

He was dumfounded when his mother told him to get on with his life. He finished his last weekend at Passim, said thanks to Pinky who, surprisingly, gave him a hug then boarded a train for the Big Apple, at once, excited and nervous.

By the time Aaron could recognize the faces around him, he understood that he was in a base hospital in Egypt with many others. He could hear and speak, although his speech was slurred. The loss of his arm and severity of his head wound were explained to him, as was the expected recovery time for his leg before he could once again stand. Who he was and what had happened to him were also explained, but here he drew a blank. The trauma of his amputated arm filled him with melancholy, which went untreated amidst the many others who suffered from similar distress. That he could recall nothing of his life before the explosion was disconcerting, but less so than the horror of his lost limb and the impatience to regain the use of his leg. To his doctors, however, the more remarkable observation was his seeming complete physical recovery from the head wound that had worried them most. The holes in his forehead and behind his ear healed, leaving only tiny scars. Observation of his motor skills indicated no impairment other than the obvious missing limb and the inability to walk until he could be taken out of traction. Sight had even returned to his damaged eye. Everyone was pleased with this soldier's progress. As for the amnesia, little could be done. Perhaps his memory would return one day as mysteriously as it had departed.

The news that her son was in hospital in Egypt hit Melba hard. It came only three weeks after she learned of her younger brother's death on the RMS Lusitania, the doomed ocean liner he had joined as a crewmember. It was sunk by a German U-boat on its final voyage out of New York. Panic gripped her for days as she wandered the beach at Apollo Bay, waiting for more news and trying to decide how to care for Aaron when he returned.

As December 1915 passed into the heat of January 1916, word reached the tiny seaside hamlet that the Gallipoli campaign had ended. From Sydney to Perth demonstrations of pride poured forth in the streets. Parades and festivals greeted the returning soldiers in the cities where they disembarked and later in the towns they called home. Most of the young men were shocked at the glorious receptions, not understanding the ironic disconnect between their humiliating defeat and the unending praise they received. Their countrymen, it seemed, saw no failure, only gallant bravery. To say you were on the lines at Gallipoli soon became a mark of honor and fame never before thrust upon their own by the Australian population. In time, the truth of the battles on the peninsula became lost in exaggerated legends about small victories that grew into epic portrayals of valor.

Melba returned to the farm to wait for her son, but each day she made the trek into the village to look for mail and scour the newspapers for information. She hated waiting in ignorance, not knowing when he would appear or how badly he might be damaged. She busied herself cleaning and redecorating the cottage. In the afternoons she took respite in Nathan's songs, going over them one by one, sometimes penning lyrics or adding a note here and there by sounding them out on the piano. At night she lay awake in her bed, restless, her heart heavy with loneliness and fear for her only son. She berated herself for not fighting his decision to leave more vigorously. Nothing good ever came from fighting other people's wars, she thought. Grief stalked, as she thought about her elderly parents alone on Nantucket, so far away and now in need of her. Twenty-four years since she had seen them or her lost brother, a youngster in her mind's eye and
always to be because that is the only vision of him her mind could hold. She missed her husband most of all. His smile, his kiss, the laughter and joy he brought into her heart. The emptiness never left her. What had she done, but fall in love with a wonderful man from this far off land? Did she deserve this hated fate so distant that she could be of no comfort to her family? Wracked with guilt, she sometimes could not fall asleep and rose to walk in the darkness, peering up at the stars to implore her God for guidance.

Six months passed and, after most of Australia's soldiers had returned from the Turkish adventure, a small buggy appeared at the bend in the path to the cottage. Melba was rocking in a chair on the tiny porch when she heard the neigh of a single horse. She knew in her heart that it was Aaron, finally home. She stood, lifting her eyes to greet whatever awaited her. As the buggy came near she saw two figures, a woman with the reins held loosely in her hands and a man slumped at her side, looking downward, unmistakably her son. Unable to contain her emotion, she leapt from the porch and rushed toward them, holding her skirt in her hands as she ran. The young woman brought the buggy to a stop, rising from her seat. Their eyes met and each knew that the homecoming would not be the sweet joy that greeted so many other soldiers.

She called out to Aaron with a rushed shout of glee, taking his hand and raising it to her lips, tears streaming down her cheeks. The gesture caused him to raise his head. He ran his eyes over her face, seemingly unable to understand why she gripped him so tightly. He did not pull his hand away, but neither did he show emotion, just blank surprise. Melba, too, ran her eyes over his face and then down his body where she gasped at the sight of the empty sleeve pinned to his jacket. She dropped his hand, momentarily bringing her fingertips to her mouth in shock, careful to stifle the scream that welled up. What had happened to her beloved son? She looked at the smiling woman at his side with the unspoken question on her face.

“I am Laura McGonigal,” the woman said, brightly. “I have brought your son home.”

Melba nodded, then, taking Aaron's hand once again, gestured to the woman to walk the buggy to the cottage. When they reached the stairs, Laura stepped down and came to Melba's side. Together, they helped Aaron to the ground where Melba, still speechless, took him in her arms and hugged him for a long time. He did not respond to her warmth, but he did not pull away.

They sat together in the cottage throughout the afternoon. Laura did most of the talking with Aaron only occasionally looking up as Melba served tea and gradually came to know what happened to her son. The lost arm was obvious, the slight limp less so. The small scar on his forehead was nearly invisible to any but his mother who noticed it instantly. He was very thin and stooped slightly, as if recovering from some shock that had taken his confidence away. The distant look in his eyes frightened Melba most of all.

When she could turn her attention away from her son, she surveyed the pretty woman at his side. She was small boned with a sculpted visage lit by a rosy complexion and ever-present smile. Melba instantly liked her, taking note of her pleasant voice full of optimism and charm. She could tell that Laura was well-educated, self-sufficient and confident. That she sat there with Aaron in the cottage outside Apollo Bay seemed odd. As the pretty girl explained all that had transpired over the previous months, Melba discerned something else that remained unspoken.

She learned that Laura was a nurse, born in England, but now based in Sydney. She cared for Aaron on the hospital ship anchored off Gallipoli where she had been stationed. From Gallipoli, the ship sailed to Egypt where Aaron spent months recuperating from his wounds. Laura ministered to him and many other soldiers at the base hospital. Back in Sydney, she maintained her role as his nurse, admitting to Melba her concern for his re-introduction to Australia given the loss of both his memory and his arm. Laura spoke freely of Aaron's battle with melancholia, explaining that many returning soldiers suffered from the same malady. He had good days and bad days, she advised. Appearing to anticipate the question in Melba's thoughts, Laura said she chose to accompany him to Apollo Bay because he had yet to regain his memory. It would be difficult for him to adjust and perhaps unfair to his mother to simply send him home with no aid.

There was something else, Laura said, leaning forward in her chair. Tremors sometimes overtook him without warning. The doctors noted this phenomenon among soldiers who had experienced the most brutal fighting on the peninsula. Little was known about this condition, other than its random occurrence that added risk to the sufferer's health and sometimes to the safety of those around him. It had not stabilized during his lengthy recuperation, manifesting at anytime as often as weekly.

“When next it comes I will show you what must be done.”

Melba gazed at her son slumped in his chair. He did not speak, but he appeared to be listening. The joy at his return had all but left her as she slowly grappled with the reality of his condition. Pity threatened to overwhelm. How would he be able to return to his former life on the farm? The rigorous work was difficult for an able bodied man. He would be shackled with disadvantage. Tears once again came into her eyes.

As if stirred by the thoughts sifting through his mother's mind, Aaron raised his head, looking first at Laura then turning to Melba. He smiled weakly at this woman he no longer recognized.

“I am told this is my home. As we came up the rise I even felt some comfort in this place. I have returned because it is the only place for me to go.” This last statement pierced Melba's heart. She dropped her face into her hands. Her son continued. “I do not wish to make you weep. The doctors say my memory may return. I yearn for that day so I can once again know who I am.”

“You must build a new life with new memories,” Laura responded. “If you will have me, I will stay to help.” Melba wiped her eyes and nodded, knowing she could not endure the time ahead alone.

Over the next year, Aaron struggled to re-assume his role as a farmer. The work was hard, but Melba observed the same patient resolve he'd always shown as a child. He learned new ways to accomplish his tasks one-armed. The limp in his gait eventually disappeared as his leg strengthened. The tremors appeared often and without warning, but Laura made sure she was always close to step in quickly. The able nurse spoke through Melba's panic, explaining what was happening as she wrapped her arms around Aaron's shaking body. Sometimes, his trembling became so severe that it took both women to wrestle him down. Laura's calm always restored order so that over time, Melba grew less frightened. Still, the tremors continued unabated by anything the two women could do.

After the first season Melba re-opened the small market in the village. It lacked the abundance of previous years, but the quality remained. Aaron brought the produce
into Apollo Bay each morning by wagon while Laura joined Melba behind the stalls, selling the fruits and vegetables to the villagers and a new group of patrons who appeared in the town. These new men and their families had come to live nearby after the government announced plans to build a road through the mountains and rainforests along the coast from Torquay to Warrnambool. The Great Ocean Road, first proposed in 1864, was a project resurrected fifty-five years later in honor of the Australian soldiers of the Great War. Monies were set aside to finally build the road, thereby giving work to three thousand returned veterans. Its eventual completion would mark the country's tribute to those who fought and died in service to their country. In this first year of preparation, engineers and surveyors flocked to Apollo Bay where they mapped the route east from Warrnambool. For the Whitehursts and Laura this signaled the beginning of new growth for their modest business.

It became clear that the young couple's interest in one another was more than medicinal. In the evenings, after darkness overtook the quiet cottage, Melba could hear their low voices shuttered in Aaron's room. Occasionally, Laura could be heard giggling with an unmistakable joy that Melba herself had known at one time with Nathan. At first, this sign of blooming love disturbed her. She pondered this new woman, fighting with herself over a selfish desire to interfere although she knew her son's happiness was the only thing of importance. As she reflected, she began to realize that what was happening between Aaron and Laura was inevitable, as natural as the attachment that overwhelmed her when Nathan burst into her life on Nantucket Island. In time, she came to know her real fear, the time had come to let her child go.

She turned her thoughts to the future. Her options seemed limited. She could stay on the farm, remaining the matriarch to the children her son and his wife would eventually produce. She could almost hear the gleeful sound of a child's voice in the cottage once again. But was it fair to the young couple to be saddled with her when their relationship needed its own space to grow? She could move into the village, perhaps engaging more completely in her business and the growing church. Or, she thought with a tinge of guilt, she could return to Nantucket to aid her mother and father in their final years. The choices were daunting because each one had its own challenge.

The decision was made one day in late summer. As she prepared breakfast in the cottage's simple kitchen, Aaron, clasping Laura's hand, came to her and announced their intent to be married. Seeing the joy on their faces, Melba could feel nothing but happiness for them. Laura had proven to be a patient, capable woman of good character. She came to Apollo Bay because she loved Aaron. She treated Melba with respect, careful not to tread on her relationship with her son while ever ready to help with all that needed to be done. Turning from the food she was preparing, she wiped her hands on her apron and took them into her arms with her unspoken approval.