Chain Locker (28 page)

Sadie laughed warmly. “Yes, Simeon always thought the world of you and Billy.”

“I had a lot of good times at your house, sleeping over with Olive. We would giggle for hours in bed until Uncle Sim yelled out from your room and woke up everybody else in the house.”

“My, you and Olive was such good friends. And the two of you looked so lovely at her wedding. Poor Winston didn't know whether to be happy or sad, seeing his twin sister go away with another man, where they was always so close, you see.”

“He's feeling fine about things now, though, isn't he?” Ada asked.

“Oh, yes, he's the best kind of friends with Angus. 'Tis a good thing, I sez, because he's always over there. But Olive warned Angus it would be like that, that she never wanted to be far away from Winston. It was funny, though—” Sadie stopped.

“Go on, Aunt Sade,” said Emily. “What were you going to say?”

“I shouldn't be goin' on like this,” said Sadie self-consciously, looking deeply into Emily's eyes.

“It's okay,” said Emily. “Really, it is. Please continue.”

Sadie glanced nervously around. “Well, I was going to say that after the wedding Winston couldn't stop talking about how beautiful you looked in your bridesmaid's dress. ‘Boy, that Emily, she's a knockout,' he kept saying, ‘What happened to that little kid with the plaits in her hair?'”

“Yes,” Ada chimed in. “I remember when you and Wints were seeing one another there for that short time, a lot of people thought you would make a nice couple,”

A faint smile touched Emily's lips but she did not speak.

“You used to say it was like going out with a male version of Olive,” said Ada.

“I remember once when Olive was just a little girl,” said Sadie, “she told me that she dreamed you would marry Winston and then the three of you could live together, her and her twin brother and her best friend.”

“I know,” Emily said quietly. “She used to say that to me, too.”

“I always wondered about that day in the winter when youse were out for a walk and he came running into the house soakin' wet and punishing with the cold. All he said was that he fell into the water. I tried to find out what happened but he would never tell me…”

“Oh, that.” Emily shrugged. “Maybe you should ask Olive.”

“I know the story,” Ada said.

“You do not!” Emily retorted. “How would you know?”

“I saw you come running in. When you came downstairs after drying off and changing, I thought you were going to tell me what happened, but you were so short with me when I asked you about it that I just let it go. It was somebody who saw you that came and told me.”

“And who was that?”

“Agnes.”

“Agnes Tizzard? Huh, that must have delighted her to have something on me that she could tattle about. It's a wonder she didn't try to blackmail me.”

“Isn't somebody going to tell me?” Sadie practically pleaded.

“Oh, I suppose Wints won't mind after all this time,” said Emily. “It was on a Saturday afternoon around the end of April when we were having our little crush, a lovely sunny day—a bit cold, though—we went for a walk along the beach down towards Harts Cove. The ice was breaking up and it was perfect for copying. We couldn't resist so off we went. All of a sudden Wints slipped and fell in.”

“Oh, my blessed!” said Sadie.

“I can still see his horrified eyes near bursting from their sockets as he came up the first time, his arms flailing in all directions. It was barely over his head but, of course, where he couldn't swim he was terrified and completely disoriented. I yelled to him to kick for shore but it was no use. When he slipped under the water for what I feared was the final time, I jumped in. Well, that water was so cold, I thought I would die; it felt like the skin was being peeled off my face. I grabbed him by those long, thick curls of his and dragged him into the shallow water where he managed to stand up.

“As soon as we got out of the water, the wind hit us and we started to stiffen up—my hands, especially; I couldn't move any of my fingers. ‘Come on, Wints,' I said. ‘If we don't get home right away, we'll freeze to death.' I had to do some pile of coaxing to get him moving. He was scared of what Uncle Sim would do to him for being on the ice without sparbles on his boots. But we finally managed to get in and changed, and to this day I thought nobody had seen us.”

“Sure I was sitting in this chair right where I'm to now,” said Ada. “You looked right at me.”

“My brain must have been frozen, too. That evening, poor Wints was beside himself. Almost drowning in the cold water was bad enough, the near miss with Uncle Sim even worse, but the indignity of having it known that a girl had to jump in among the balleycatters and rescue him from drowning was almost too much to bear. I promised him I would never tell and until now I never did. He couldn't keep it from Olive, though; he claimed he told her because he thought I would. What nerve, eh?” She coaxed out a little smile for Sadie.

Emily got up to answer a loud knock at the back door. She hesitated for a moment. “Why Basil. Come in. What brings you here this evening?”

“Hello, Emily. How are you?” he smiled, as he stepped into the porch.

“Oh…fine, I suppose. Keep your coat on until you're into the kitchen, Basil, where it's warm.”

Stepping into the kitchen and seeing the dishes still on the table, he exclaimed, “Oh dear, I'm sorry; I thought you would be finished eating by now. I can come back.”

“Oh, no, no, no! We're through with supper and just having our tea,” Ada declared, jumping up from her chair. “I'll get you a cup now, Reverend. Sit down, sit down. Are you hungry? There's still a turr left if you'd like some.”

“No!” he blurted, then, “thank you. I can just stay a minute. I'm on my way to see if Charlie Pelley is feeling any better and thought I might drop in to see if there was any news about the ship that sank.”

“Yes, there is,” Ada replied. “Wonderful news. Sade just heard from Simeon. All the sealers from Twillingate are ashore and well.”

“That is indeed wonderful news! God has answered your prayers, Sadie. I'm sure your family will be relieved.” Then, turning to Emily he asked, “And what about your friend, Emily? I understand you have a friend aboard the ship,” he said, his smile fading as he watched the colour drain from her cheeks.

There was an uncomfortable silence before Ada said, “He's not accounted for yet.”

“Oh, dear me,” he replied in a voice of polished piety. “I shall certainly pray for him.”

Having found out what he wanted to know, Basil talked for a few minutes about the pain of separation and the joy of reunion before announcing that he really must be on his way and would Emily like to show him to the door? Standing on the dark threshold he whispered to her, “Emily, dearest, I would like to see you and talk to you; there are so many things I wish to say.”

“I'm really not up to talking right now, Basil,” she replied in a tired voice.

“Yes, but—”

“Goodnight, Basil. You need to go see how Mr. Pelley is.”

chapter thirty-two

Henry looked across the ice floe at his young companion, who sat with his back to him, staring to the south. He had been there all afternoon, faithfully watching for the rescue ship that he had been so sure was coming to get them. Now he was beginning to wonder if he had imagined the whole thing.

“No, you didn't imagine it,” said Henry. “I saw it too. They just didn't see us.”

“What, they got no binoculars aboard?”

“I don't know what to tell you, Jack.”

“But they turned and were comin' towards us and then they turned away again.”

Henry shrugged. “I know.” His bigger concern was that if the ship was that far south of them, then they were much farther north than he had thought. The current must have moved them north, and farther offshore, despite his assumption that the winds were taking them to the southeast. That would explain why they had lost sight of the Cape John light so soon on the first night.

With a tremor of apprehension, Henry tried to prepare himself mentally for the third night on the ice. As he and Jackie watched the light ebb from the western sky, he was beginning to dread what the future might hold for them. He just couldn't shake the feeling of discouragement that had quietly settled on him like ash from a coal chimney. He tried to put up a good front for Jackie's sake, hoping that in the process his own spirits might get a lift.

“At least we're not going to bed on an empty stomach like we did for the last two nights,” he said.

“Right.”

“And we're not so thirsty, either.”

“I guess not.”

“It's hard to believe that we're beginning our third night out, eh? It sure doesn't seem that long. We've had a lot happen to us in two days.”

“I s'pose.”

“I got a feeling I'm gonna sleep good tonight. I was so wound up on Sunday night; my mind was racin' the whole night. And last night was just a hard old night, but I think tonight should be half decent.”

“Yeah.”

“You know, Jack, these last couple of days haven't been easy for you, but you've taken it like a man. I've known many a grown man who wouldn't have done so good as you're doin'. Now, just because that one ship didn't see us don't mean that the next one won't. Just seein' that ship out there has got me excited because I know she's not the only one; she's the first of many that's out here looking for us; there'll be more, guaranteed. And there's no doubt in my mind that we'll get more seals. We just have to be patient now and not allow ourselves to get discouraged. I know you would give anything to be back in your home right now, with your mother making a fuss over you and nothin' to fear more than your feet gettin' cold while you're asleep in your bed.”

“Of course I would. Wouldn't you?”

“Hell, yes. I certainly don't want any more nights like last night. But that's behind us, now. Just think of the yarns you'll have to tell when you get back to St. John's. They'll probably put your story in
The Evening Telegram
. My son, you'll be the cock of the block!”

A slight smirk crossed Jackie's face as he thought of the guys back home. Hubert would turn green with envy; served him right for backing out. And Mike was bound to be generous with his compliments. Mike was okay. Jackie was not sure about Ed, though. He didn't want to think about why he had not seen him during the disaster.

“Why don't we get you settled away here for a nap of sleep?” said Henry, as he laid down the sealskins he had managed to keep from the fire. “It will be nice having those two pelts to lie on. In fact, I think it might just be too much luxury; might make you soft,” he grinned.

Jackie accommodated him with a weak smile.

“Here you go; lie down here, now, and I'll take the first watch.”

With Jackie settled away, Henry wandered over to a flat area of the floe, where it was easier to stand in the approaching darkness. Since seeing the ship, he had been gripped with a new urgency: the need to keep a steady watch through the night; God forbid that they should ever become lethargic and let that slide again.

He tried to shake the feeling of despair that hung about him like a lead cape, made heavier by the helplessness he had felt as the ship turned away. The thrill of intense expectation had faded in a flood of disbelief and disappointment. But it wasn't just that, even though that was bad enough. What was it, then? It wasn't the weather, which he thought would be their greatest enemy; it was not menacing them right now. It was a fine enough evening, all things considered. And they could see a little, thanks to the few stars and the moon reflecting on the ice. What was gnawing at him?

In the quiet of his lonely vigil the word finally screamed in his mind. It was
frustration
—the nagging realization that they were essentially powerless to help themselves. He had never in his life been in such a position. It had begun to sink in as their so-called signal fire burned in vain, but he had felt it most acutely as he watched Jackie, so forlorn, sitting on the ice and refusing to take his eyes off the spot where he had first seen the smoke, hours after the ship had gone out of sight.

He knew that his own desire for a quick rescue had led him to an unreasonable expectation that one was imminent, and he had promised too much to Jackie in an effort to encourage him. The reality was that if they had gotten the news in St. John's sometime on Monday, they would have needed a day to get a ship fuelled and loaded with food and medical equipment, so they probably wouldn't have managed to get away until sometime today. Maybe they'll show up tonight, he thought, trying to cheer himself with a new fantasy of another ship.

Without a rescue ship there was no hope whatsoever. Even if they could keep themselves alive they could do nothing to bring themselves one step closer to seeing their loved ones again. If they were lost in the woods, they could walk; in a boat they could row or sail. But here they were trapped, surrounded by the capricious ocean, hemmed in on a platform of frozen water that could fall to pieces at any moment, trapped like animals in a zoo, without the keeper to take care of them. Below them was an amorphous foundation in constant motion, and they had no control over where they went or even the rate of their random meanderings. There was nothing constant in their existence. The only thing they could do was try to stay alive—and wait.

All they had to remind them of their real lives was the clothes they had on, and their few possessions: the gaff, towrope, knife and sharpening steel. As hours had drifted into days, Henry had kept the gaff in his hands every waking moment, almost caressing it, studying the tip of the pick and the hook with his fingers, his eyes moving along the handle, tracing the route of each line of the wood's grain to the top of the handle and then back again to the hook, analyzing every dimple and bump on the iron surface as though it could carry him back to the life he had known.