by Adrien Leduc
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“I don’t know, Godfrey,” said Francine slowly, cautiously.
“What don’t you know?” he asked, his enthusiasm quickly deflating as he turned on the bench so that he faced her.
The girl looked at him, her eyes filled with angst. “It’s so far. I mean, how would I ever see my family?”
Godfrey shrugged and looked away. An old man was approaching, his black Terrier intent on inspecting them.
“It’s alright,” said the stranger as the dog reached them and began to sniff Godfrey’s shoes, “he doesn’t bite.”
“Aww, what a cute little puppy,” Francine gushed, extending a hand to pet the small animal as it reared up on its hind legs.
“Oh, he ain’t no puppy, Miss. Smoky here is gettin’ on seven years old already.”
“Really?”
“Yup. Got him as a pup during the war. From the neighbours. They couldn’t keep him after their son was killed overseas. Said the dog just reminded them too much of him.”
“Gosh.”
“Yup.”
Godfrey looked at the old man, rather annoyed that he was intruding on their conversation.
“Yup,” he said, removing his hat and wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeve.
Godfrey looked at the man, willing him to leave them be so they could continue their conversation.
“Anyway,” he said, clearly sensing that he was unwelcome, “best we get on. We’ve got to get home and get supper on. Haven’t we boy?”
Francine smiled and gave the dog one last pat on the head as his owner pulled him backwards. “So nice to meet you.”
“And you, Miss. Have a nice evening, you two.”
Godfrey replied with a nod of farewell as the old man turned and plodded down the hill.
“I’d like to get a puppy someday,” said Francine, shifting on the bench so that she could stretch her legs. “I’ve been asking maman for ages, but she won’t budge. Says they’re too dirty.”
“Well, they are.”
“Are not. Not if you bathe them.”
“Bathe them? You talk as though they’re human.”
“Well…argh, it doesn’t matter, Godfrey. What were we talking about anyways? We’ve gotten off topic and I don’t have much longer before I have to go inside for dinner.”
Godfrey sighed and glanced up the street where a group of kids were engaged in a spirited game of kick ball.
“We were talking about me moving out West. To Alberta. And you coming with me.”
He felt stupid saying it. It sounded so irrational. Nonsensical. And she’d never go. He’d never go either. She had to help her mother with her two younger brothers. He had to help his parents with the farm and his younger siblings. And Alberta was so far away. At least four days by train. It would never happen.
“I really don’t think I could even if I wanted to, Godfrey,” she answered slowly.
He could feel her eyes on him, but he couldn’t bear to meet them with his own. Instead he slid his hands through the seat of the bench, firmly gripping the hard wooden slats as he reflected on the matter.
It isn’t right to ask her such a thing. Farming out West is my thing - not hers. If I want to do it, then I should do it on my own and leave her out of it. She has her family to look after.
“I understand,” he said finally, feeling even more deflated than before. He felt his shoulders slump and he knew Francine was watching him.
Who am I asking her this like some sort of crazy person? What an idea. Let’s just pack up and move to Alberta and start a farm, Francine.
A passing motor car honked at a young woman on the sidewalk and the couple watched as she smiled and waved at the young men inside.
“I don’t know if I can even go,” said Godfrey once the motor car had disappeared from view. “Maman’s not been well lately and papa’s getting older. It’s a lot of work taking care of a farm. Be kind of selfish for me to leave and start my own farm so far away when they need me here.”
Francine nodded, but said nothing. He liked that about her. She wasn’t always gabbing on like some of the other girls he knew. She could be pensive and contemplative at times and he liked when she exhibited that quiet grace.
“FRANCINE!”
At the sound of her name, both turned to see her youngest brother, Charles, racing up the sidewalk, a wide smile on his face.
“I’ve never seen your brother not smile,” Godfrey mused.
“Yeah, Charles is probably the happiest kid I know.”
“Francine! Godfrey! How are you Godfrey? Mom says it’s time for supper. We’re having fish tonight, Francine! Fish! Just like everyone else on Fridays!”
He stopped talking long enough to take a breath and glanced at Godfrey. It was obvious that his brain was whirring away, trying to figure out whether or not Godfrey would be allowed to join them, then realizing that he probably wouldn’t be (Francine’s mother wasn’t one to have guests over as there was rarely enough food for her own family) and how best to tell Godfrey that he wasn’t invited to join them.
Godfrey however, sensing the boy’s hesitation, rescued the boy from his predicament.
“Well, I guess I’d better get home for my supper too,” he said, standing and stretching his arms. “At this rate, it’s going to be dark before I get back. Best not stay any later.”
Charles watched him closely through his big brown eyes, following his movements with that intense curiosity of young people.
“Here,” said Godfrey, extending a hand so that Francine could stand as well. “I’m sorry I put this on you,” he added quietly so only she could hear, “I never should have mentioned it.”
“Godfrey…”
“No, really, Francine. It’s craziness. Leave Montreal. Leave Quebec - ”
“Godfrey.”
She had that look in her eyes. The one where he had to listen or there’d be hell to pay and he stopped speaking.
“I want you to promise me something.”
“Promise you what?” Godfrey asked, perplexed.
“Promise me that…if you get the chance to go…that you’ll go. I don’t want you waiting -“
“No. Francine…”
She shook her head and looked squarely at him, her eyes bright and lively. “I don’t want you waiting around for my sake. If you get a chance to go, go. Please. It might be a wonderful opportunity and if you were to pass it up simply for my sake…I could never bear to look at you again.”
“Francine - “
“Godfrey. You need to listen sometimes. You’re a stubborn country boy, you are,” she smiled, stepping towards him and pressing a hand to his chest, “but you need to be told sometimes. And I’m telling you. If you can go, go. It’s not everyone that gets an opportunity like that. And you only ever get those sorts of opportunities once in a lifetime. Don’t pass it up for me.”
The young man sighed and looked at the beautiful girl standing in front of him.
“Promise me, Godfrey.”
Sighing, he murmured, “alright, Francine. I promise. If I get the chance to go, I’ll go.”
“Thank you,” she said, making no attempt to hide her exasperation. “Now, let’s go, Charles. You know how mother hates to be kept waiting. Especially when she’s made us a nice dinner.”
“I know.”
“Run along then.”
The little boy nodded and tore off up the sidewalk while his older sister lingered behind.
“Bye, Godfrey,” she said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Bye, Francine.”
