Emily's Dream (9 page)

“Don't worry,” he told her. “I heard the Piddingtons say they were planning to leave for San Francisco after the Queen's birthday.”

“At last!” Emily exclaimed.

“I'm glad they'll be gone before I leave,” Dick added.

“What do you mean?” Emily asked. “You know I'm starting school back East in September,” Dick said.

Emily went cold. She'd forgotten the family plan to send Dick to a private school in Ontario. Mr. Lawson, the lawyer who was the children's legal guardian, was arranging it in keeping with their father's wishes. Now, it seemed, it was really going to happen.

“This house is going to be dull without you,” Emily said.

“I don't leave for months yet,” Dick reminded her. “Besides,” he added. “We've got the regatta to think about now!”

Queen Victoria's birthday was on May twenty-fourth, and every year the city that was named after her celebrated with a wonderful regatta. When Emily was small, the family usually had a picnic in Medina Grove on the Queen's birthday, but once she and Dick were old enough to sit balanced in a boat, they went to the regatta at the Gorge.

The Gorge was an arm of the sea that ran from Victoria's inner harbor inland for three miles. The banks of the Gorge were still
forested, but here and there, stately houses perched with gardens running down to the water. The water of the Gorge was warmer than the waters of the beaches around Victoria. Emily had sometimes been allowed to bathe in the ocean near Beacon Hill Park, but the nightdress she wore floated to the top of the water, leaving her legs bare and icy. It was difficult to swim in a dress, so she hadn't done much more than get wet, and she'd never learned to swim properly. At the regatta, people sat in boats, picnicked on the shore and watched the boat races.

On the morning of the Queen's birthday, Emily looked out her bedroom window. Rain had spattered the ground yesterday, but today the sun was out, and the air was sweet with the smell of hawthorn and other blossoms. There would be good weather for the regatta and for the first day of summer frocks.

Emily, Dick, Alice and Lizzie walked into town, while Dede and the Piddingtons followed in the phaeton. They joined with friends, Mr. and Mrs. Bales and their
children, at the shipyard near the Point Ellice Bridge. The rosy-faced Mr. Bales helped everyone into rowboats, storing the picnic supplies in the boat with him and his wife. They pushed off and rowed under the Point Ellice Bridge that crossed the start of the Gorge waterway. Overhead, the bridge rumbled with the sound of traffic crossing on the way to the regatta. All along the arm, buggies and wagons stopped, horses were tied to bushes, and people made their way, laden with picnic baskets, down through the woods to the shore. Great strings of colorful pennants stretched out across the water from one side to the other, and the sound of band music grew louder as the boats made their way down the Gorge.

Emily clutched the side of the boat as it rocked in the water, feeling her stomach lurch. She was relieved when the small flotilla of rowboats nosed up against the shore. The men and boys jumped out first to help the ladies and deliver the picnic supplies safely to shore. The roar of the big naval
guns fired at Esquimalt Harbor signaled the start of the regatta, and a bugle blown from the Gorge Bridge called the boats to assemble for the first race.

Both sides of the Gorge waterway were lined with people cheering and waving as the first naval boats cut their way down the middle of the arm, racing from the Gorge Bridge to Deadman's Island. As the boats rounded the island and headed back, the shouts from shore grew louder. One boat of uniformed navy officers had pulled into a clear lead. Emily and Dick struggled to see as onlookers crowded in on either side of them, pushing them back.

“I wish we were out on the water,” Dick said, straining to see around a large woman with a huge white dress and matching parasol. “We'd have a better view.”

At the edge of the water, they saw Mr. Piddington and some of the Bale children climbing into one of the rowboats.

“Come on!” Dick called, tugging on Emily's arm.

“Not with him!” Emily said, drawing back.

“It'll be okay,” Dick said. “We can ignore him and just watch the boats.”

The bugle sounded for the next racers to assemble. Emily caught a glimpse of the long slender dugout canoes coasting into place. The Indian canoe races were the most exciting of the regatta. Down on the water would definitely be the best place to watch.

“Oh, all right.” Emily gave in and followed Dick.

Mr. Piddington gave them an uninviting look as they climbed into the boat. The bang of a gunshot signaled the start of the race, and nine canoes shot forward. Down the length of each long canoe, ten men dipped their paddles in one movement, while the steers-man in the rear grunted out the rhythm. The sleek canoes seemed to fly over the water.

As the race finished, the wake of a small steam launch jockeying into the shore among the other watching boats set Emily and Dick's boat rocking. Emily's stomach churned, and she was sure her face was turning green. Mr. Piddington gave her an appraising look. His mouth twisted into a grin.

“Let's make the kid seasick,” he called out.

He pulled in the oars, grabbed hold of the boat's sides and rocked. The youngest of the Bale children squealed with delight as the boat tipped back and forth.

Dick saw Emily's face.

“Hey!” he objected, but it was too late. Emily's stomach heaved. Clutching the side of the boat and fearing she might fall overboard, Emily leaned out over the water just in time.

 17 
The Whip Again

Emily shrank back into the boat. Dimly, she heard Mr. Piddington and the others laugh.

“That was a rotten thing to do,” said Dick.

“It was just a bit of fun,” Mr. Piddington declared. “If the kid can't take being on the water, she shouldn't have gotten in the boat.”

Emily was too ill to do anything but slump against the side of the boat, holding onto her stomach, but under her fog of seasickness, her anger grew. How dare he make her sick? How dare he call her “the kid” as if she were a little child he could push around?

Once the boat was back on shore, Emily struggled out and collapsed onto the grass. Dick sat down beside her, while Piddington and the other children strode past them toward the picnic site, laughing.

Emily gulped air until the queasiness passed and the ground felt steady. Her anger rose up and boiled over. She pushed herself to her feet and marched after the others.

“Emily, wait!” Dick jumped up and called after her, but Emily did not stop.

“You!” she pointed, striding straight up to Mr. Piddington. “You made me sick on purpose!”

“Emily!” Dede cut in quickly. “That's no way to talk to a gentleman.”

“He is no gentleman,” Emily said, shaking with anger. “He is a lazy sponger and a cruel bully!”

Emily heard the sharp intakes of breath all round her. Even Dede's mouth dropped open.

“The kid has insulted me,” Mr. Piddington sputtered.

Emily looked around at the shocked faces
and knew that this time she might have gone too far. Dede's face had darkened ominously.

“Emily, you must apologize to Mr. Piddington at once!” she ordered, making an effort to keep her voice quiet and controlled.

“I will not apologize for speaking the truth,” Emily said, and she clamped her mouth shut tight. She was in for it now, but she didn't care. Enough was enough!

Dede's anger had not diminished by the time they all arrived home. She marched Emily straight to the kitchen and the riding whip.

“I've never been so embarrassed in my life!” Dede said through clenched teeth as she grabbed the whip from its hook. “Your behavior has shamed our whole family.”

“But he–,” Emily began, but Dede cut her off.

“I don't care what he did.” She turned Emily away from her with one hand and raised the whip with the other. “You were not brought up to speak that way to your
elders–let alone to a gentleman who is a guest in our home.”

Swish
! The whip bit into the back of Emily's legs. Emily sucked in a shocked breath at the strength Dede had used.

Smack
! The whip snapped again.

Whack
!

Emily began to feel faint, but stubborn anger kept her on her feet. Why couldn't Dede see how unfair she was being? Why couldn't she see what Mr. Piddington was like? Dede pretended affection to Emily in front of others, but she punished Emily for speaking the truth, for standing up to a cruel bully. It wasn't right.

Dede raised her arm for another swing. Emily braced herself, but as she did, she felt renewed outrage. This time, as the whip came down, Emily turned, reached out her arm and grabbed.

The whip stopped in midair.

“Enough!” Emily said, looking straight into her sister's eyes. “I am almost sixteen now, and if you thrash me ever again, I will strike back.”

Dede glared at Emily, but Emily did not look away, and she did not loosen her grip on the whip. After a moment, Dede's hand let go, and the whip dropped to Emily's side.

“Very well,” Dede said, her voice emotionless. “If you think you are too old to be disciplined, I will not whip you. But if that's the way you want it, then I expect you to act your age and start behaving like a young woman with responsibilities and duties, not like a child who has nothing in her head and does whatever she wishes.”

 18 
The Sky Beckons