Redeemed From the Ashes—Chapter 19—Crisis Averted
The next few days Evelyn repeatedly thought of that wonderful reunion which had happened on that bright Sunday afternoon. Yet her joy for them metamorphosed into guilt she bore daily. Would not a reunion with her own mother provide the same results?
Not necessarily.
She knew her mother and she could be unbending in their ways if it meant their own hurt could be exposed. Clyde ever telling her it was going to be all right, their relationship could mend, it was not so complicated...she thought it to be a bit too sunny of a thought for reality. Her conscious torture was building day by day until at last she could take it no longer.
She rushed up from the couch she had been pondering upon, swiped her shawl from the hanging hook and marched out toward Gerald’s home, frustrated with herself. She needed him to help her decide. She was so confused by her conflicting thoughts. She was scared she would have to do a hard thing. Her life had been...easier before this blasted war commenced.
Knock, Knock! Gerald opened the door, his hair uncombed and casually dressed with the first two buttons undone. “Evelyn! Are you all right?”
She looked at him with pitiful eyes.
“I’m sorry. Please, come in.” He drew her inside and slipped the shawl off her shoulders, brushing his hands against them.
She had never been inside his home before. She had thought it would not be proper to be in his home without a house party there. But she was desperate for him to listen to her burdens.
Everything was neatly placed. The furniture and decor boasted of a tolerable salary, although it could use a feminine touch. A gramophone was sitting upon a small table in a corner of the living room, the first room one entered in the home. A disc was spinning upon it, belting out one of Beethoven’s symphonies. A coffee mug half full and a newspaper underneath it were the only items sitting upon a long table situated between the two chocolate leather love seats.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“Evelyn, really. I’m very glad you came. I was missing you. I haven’t see you for days.” He fingered one small curl resting on her cheek.
“I’ve been quite busy, thinking.”
“Oh?”
“May I sit down?”
“Why, of course, please do.” He gestured to the love seat behind him. She sat down upon the seat and looked down upon her lap.
“Clyde?”
“Clyde is in his room praying. He does so for an hour every day around this time at night. He has such a faith in God! Do you know he said he would pray especially for you?”
“How sweet he is! However, it’s hard to imagine how one can dedicate a whole hour to talking about me. I would say hello, but I don’t want to disturb him. Do you remember my telling you I discovered from observation that two men I was acquainted with were brothers?”
“Yes, I do remember. I believe you told me quickly last Monday before work.”
“When I asked the both of them separately, they each admitted to the truth. Their past relations with each other were far from favourable.” She strung along the whole story, not sparing any detail. Evelyn felt special with Gerald listening so intently to her tale. His eyes dampened when she relayed the more horrible sentiments of what had happened, and at times his eyes would gleam with such intensity into hers that she had to look away for fear she would not help being drawn closer and closer to his person.“This past Sunday they were reunited after forty-five some odd years.”
“That is wonderful.”
“And I’ve been thinking about my own life, me, my mother. I don’t wantto go through the same pain they did for most of their life. Yet some part of myself is telling me that going to my mother and talking to her won’t do any good. I...don’t know what to do.”
Gerald stood up and paced the room for a few minutes, hand to his chin, brow slightly furrowed. Sometimes, an idea would arrive and his whole face would brighten to relay to her the solution; but then his face would darken yet again, and he would shake his head. At last he stopped, walked toward Evelyn and raised her up from the sofa. He cupped her hands in his, looking down upon them. “Evelyn, I want to tell you what to do. I keep thinking of what good or harm will come of it. Every time I think of a solution, a barrier rises up. I cannot tell you what to do.” She was opening her mouth to say something, but he put his finger to her lips. “Please, let me finish. You’re right. Nothing might happen. But something might happen. You have nothing to lose save your pride. It might hurt, but I’ll be here for you if you need me. I will comfort you. But you must decide.” His sincere speech defused the tension which had been bubbling within her.
“Thank you.”
“Your welcome.”
And then it happened. The catch she was dreading and yet anticipating the most succeeded in taking root within her. Her gaze couldn’t leave his. He lowered his head so that it would touch her forehead and rest upon it. They stood there breathing the same still air, chests lightly heaving up and down. He bent his head down a little further, caressing her mouth with his. A small dangerous kiss. He pulled back as she soaked in all the sensations which flooded her inhibitions. His head moved down again to plant another tender token, but her fear drove right back into her mind. She turned her head so that his mouth touched her cheek instead. He held both her shoulders and searched her eyes.“What are you afraid of ?”
“I...I don’t know.” She felt hot with shame and pain for his hurt.
“Evelyn.”
“I must go. I’ve decided to go see my mother. Thank you.” She unentangled herself from his already desirous grasp.
“Will you come back to me?”
“I promise.” She gathered her shawl and gave him a kiss on his right cheek. “Please, forgive me.” She opened his front door and looked back at the man who had kissed her. She turned and closed the door suddenly wishing that perhaps she shouldn’t have ended that spellbinding kiss.
She forced herself to head in the direction of the ferry the next day after work. Last night she had told Gerald she would see her mother. If she didn’t go today, she would never go. She had to keep her word. It was a chillier day than usual for the end of April. She wrapped her knitted scarf, which she had been given at the hospital right after the explosion by those involved with the relief committee, tighter around her neck. She tucked her chin inside and watched the weathered grey cobblestones pass beneath her feet. She only glanced upward occasionally to make sure she was going in the right direction. She didn’t know why she didn’t take a cab most of the time. Perhaps it was the money; it could be put to better use elsewhere. Or perhaps it was the fact that walking provided her with a few moments to herself to really think and to listen to the beating of her own heart.
Gerald had shared with her the night before that Clyde was praying especially for her. She knew it couldn’t be of her own merit; for she was unworthy in all senses. Time and time again she could find many instances in her interactions with others which could be less selfish on her part. The self-seeking thoughts of her heart shocked her to no end. So what was the good that upheld the deed? Perhaps it was his sincere love for her, a love which gave and never asked in return. Perhaps it was the fact that he believed God would actually hear his supplications and aid someone like her, someone who might not return the favour. Was that true unconditional love? And how could unworthy she respond to such a love?
As she neared the harbour and veered toward the docks where Mr. John Cox had his ferrying business, she saw both brothers each eating an apple, chatting and laughing away. “Good evening, sirs.”
“O! Miss, I’m so glad to see you,” said Mr. John Cox, nearing her with an open hand and leading her to an empty overturned crate. “We were just reminiscing over the old days, especially over our days of fishing.”
“Yes,” said the elder Mr. Cox, “we were talking about one particular time. It was a hot summer day. We boys were getting mighty fidgety in our seats so we decided to sneak out of the house. But let me tell you though...we got into a lot of trouble about it. Well, we ran to the small river which wound near our childhood home back in Quebec. We rolled up our pants and nearly fell into the river. We were so excited. So there we were talking and shoving when John here caught a really big fish. He could barely hold on to his pole. But Winifred, a young girl who lived in our town turned up just as he was reeling in his catch. Well, John was so startled that the girl he was sweet on noticed him and called to him that he tragically lost his catch. He was in a sour mood after that. None of her consoling words could make him happy. She eventually left. And the whole way home I laughed and laughed. It was one of the most enjoying times we had together. But you know what? He was never sweet on Winifred again.” He slapped his hand on his knee and doubled over in laughter. “However, when we got home our sis...” He fell silent and cast his eyes downward. “Our sister scolded the both us for acting shamefully. She was right. She usually was.”
Mr. John Cox confirmed this fact by nodding his head up and down. He caught Evelyn’s sympathetic gaze. “It’s all right. We...we’re able to talk about our sister. We’re at peace with the past.”
“I’m relieved.”
Mr. John Cox piped, “Tell me, what can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if I could catch a ride to the other side.”
“Well, now, it’s very late. We both insist you come and have dinner with us tonight.”
“That’s right,” Mr. Cox reiterated.
One more night without seeing my mother will do no harm.
“It would be my pleasure. Shall we go?”
All three agreed to leave for Mr. John Cox’s house in the country. They borrowed an automobile from one of Mr. John Cox’s friends who lived nearby. They chugged along for half an hour.
Mr. John Cox informed, “In the morning I usually walk from my house to the crossroads that we just passed back there and then hail a buggy. Since we are three, I thought this would be a spiffy treat.”
The sky’s ominous skin hung darkly over the fields. In a few minutes, it seemed there might be a downpour; so low were the clouds hanging. Only a thin string of force withheld them from opening up their contents. Thunder rolled overhead and lightning flashed in the sky. It started to pour as they drove down the quarter-mile lane leading to John’s home. The automobile was driven into a small shed big enough to hold only one such beauty.
All three friends ran up the porch steps and into the tight entrance. The house, though old, was not inefficiently run down. Although it looked to be more than half a century old, the owner had taken care to upkeep it by giving it a new coat of paint. It hardly had a spot on it. The shingles were a navy sea blue.
Mr. John Cox opened the creaking front door. “Welcome to my humble abode.”As they entered, they immediately saw a hunched cloaked figure sitting upon the sofa. His head snapped up as soon as he heard their voices. He nearly tumbled out of the room, knocking his knee against the corner of the crude centre table. He uttered a small gush of moaning while grabbing his knee. Evelyn walked around the doorframe to see the stranger once more. She watched him pass through two small rooms and then open a door that she conjectured led to his own room or haven.“Is that...?”
“Yes, he’s the friend I had with me in the bakery that day.”
When he had been startled and shown his face, she could not see it because of the darkness he had been sitting in.
Mr. John Cox sat on the couch and explained, “Poor man. He suffers blindness in one eye. I encountered him on a road leading out to the country. Actually, I was driving the very same automobile we drove in today. I was driving into town to see myriads of people walking down the roads in search of a place to live. I picked up many people that fateful day bringing them to relatives’ homes or places where they knew their friends would take them in. But this man...had no place to go. He mumbled only a few words. He didn’t even ask to be taken in. I took pity on him and have had him under my wing this whole time. I asked my town doctor to treat his wounds. He recovered well, all but his eyesight. I’ve been taking care of him ever since. He mostly keeps to himself. He’s said very little to me.”
“What a shame! Has he no family?” Evelyn’s heart thudded dully.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, it is very kind of you to take care of him.”
“He’s a good samaritan.” Mr. Cox proudly put his arm around his brother’s shoulders.
“Well, shall we eat?” Mr. John Cox went into the kitchen. “I am starving!”
Both guests of Mr. John Cox sat at the kitchen table while he cooked up a quick meal of fresh fish, potatoes, and carrots. Evelyn asked her host where all the utensils, plates, and cups were and then set the table. Mr. Cox lighted several large candles and put them upon the centre of the dining table. They sat down and ate.
As they ate, Evelyn asked Mr. John Cox how he had become involved with the navy. He relayed some of his adventurous stories. Others were mediocre. He suddenly became very animated about the subject as he informed his guests about the present debate of the explosion.
“There have been many rumours that German spies were responsible for the explosion.” Evelyn said.
“Yes, I have heard that, as well. Is it true?” Mr. Cox piped.
“No, no, no, the Huns are not intelligent enough for this sort of thing.” Mr. John Cox retorted.
“What makes you say so?” One of Evelyn’s eyebrows moved upward in curiosity.
“Because...well, the reason why they joined the war in the first place was because of their alliances and what not. It’s a whole lot of rubbish to me.”
“I’m sure there are intelligent politics involved that neither you nor I could understand,” Evelyn countered.
“Humph! Anyway at first, they did think that Johan Johansen, a Norwegian helmsman of the Imo, was a German spy. The doctors who had treated his wounds at one of the relief hospitals reported him to the authorities because they thought he was German. After he was arrested, they found a letter on his person that was supposedly written in German. But they soon found out that it was written in Norwegian. The whole story was given a lot of talk for the sake of stirring up nonsense.
“But a judicial inquiry occurred a few days later. Aime Le Medec, the captain of the Mont-Blanc, Francis Mackey, the pilot, and Frederick Wyatt, a Royal Canadian Navy officer, were charged with manslaughter.”
“How terrible!” Evelyn effused.
“I think the decision seems unjust,” Mr. Cox added.
“What do you think?” Evelyn asked Mr. John Cox.
“I think the whole fiasco was a mistake, an accident. Really I don’t think anyone is to blame for it.”
“Why do you think so?” his brother asked.
“A lot of things can go wrong on the waters, especially when maneuvering in the Narrows. With all the war ships’ activity going on, something like the explosion was bound to happen.”
“I hope those poor men...I hope they receive proper justice. It would be horrible for them to pay for something which was no one’s fault.” Evelyn concluded. She then relayed to the men how many funds were garnered at the banquet for those who had been injured. Night soon fell as the small dinner party continued to converse. Mr. John Cox drove both his brother and Evelyn back to their homes.
As Evelyn entered her apartment, she glanced at Betsie lying upon the sofa reading some magazine.
“And how was it?” Betsie asked.
“I didn’t go.”
“But I thought...”
“I know. I was supposed to, but the Cox brothers invited me to dine withthem for the evening. Their offer was very tempting. It seemed to be more promising compared to the meeting with my mother which I was not looking forward to.”
“When will you go?”
“Tomorrow and nothing on earth will deter me from going.”