Journey With the Comet

by Dana Wayne Haley

  After zooming in, Leona saw two women and a man carrying three gray lawn chairs to a small sun-side porch. Upon sitting down, they began talking. It wasn’t long before Leona heard them laughing. Curious about who these people were, she zoomed in even further until she could see them clearly and hear what they had to say.

  “Well, I’m glad everyone could make it,” said a woman who appeared to be about fifty.

  “My God, Alice, have you forgotten Murdock already?” the other woman around five years younger asked.

  “No, of course not, Edith,” she replied. “But we all knew there was little chance he’d be able to make it all the way up from Bangor. That’s quite a trip, especially with a young family the size of his; and there’s no way he’d leave them behind.”

  “Alice, how many children does Murdock have now?” the lone man of thirty-three asked.

  “Can’t you remember anything, Arthur? I told you only yesterday that he had his fourth child three years ago. They named him Wallace; and, if memory serves, I believe he was born in April. So that would make three girls and a boy now.”

  “How old is the oldest one?” Arthur asked.

  “The first one was born in February of ‘04,” Edith said, “so that would make her fourteen. The other two girls are eleven and eight. Actually, their ages are easy to remember if you know the first; they are each separated by three years.”

  “What are their names? And while you’re at it, Alice, what’s his wife’s name?”

  “Men! How many times do I hav’ta remind you of these things?” Alice quipped. “Her name is Margaret, and the girls are Lillian, Arlene, and Leona. Now, you old fool, do you think you can remember that for more than a day?”

  “I doubt it,” Arthur said. “But there’s no need since I have the two of you to remember things for me.”

  While they were laughing, Leona said to herself: “That’s Papa’s young brother. He looks just like him. And those are his sisters. I remember Papa telling me all about Aunt Alice, Aunt Edie and Uncle Arthur; and the rest of his family. Come to think of it, where’s Uncle Harry? Wish he was here too. Papa never talked about him much, other than he was his favorite brother and that he wasn’t one to stay in a place for too long.”

  Upon seeing all she needed to of her father’s birthplace, Leona decided to remain in Canada and visit a special place in the Great White North that she had dreamed of visiting so many times before: Prince Edwards Island in Nova Scotia. Ever since reading Anne of Green Gables she had always wanted to see the place where Anne Shirley lived, and loved so much. She headed east and came to that glorious land, seeing right away that Anne’s superlative descriptions were not in any way exaggerated, even though she thought they must be. Nova Scotia’s beauty was all she had envisioned and more, rivaling if not surpassing Maine’s stunning landscape.

  “I could spend months here,” Leona thought.

  But of course she knew she couldn’t. As amazing as this journey was, she was starting to miss her family and, without a doubt, her own beloved paradise.

  Chapter 32

  The Journey Home

  After spending more time in the place Anne Shirley called home than at any other stop on her long journey, Leona decided that it was time to head back to Maine, or maybe to fly back to Maine would be more appropriate. Upon returning to her home state, Leona’s attention was first drawn to Mount Katahdin, the Pine Tree State’s tallest mountain. A few years later its peak would become the final destination of the Appalachian Trail, a hiking trail that traversed the Appalachian Mountain range for over 2,000 miles. The trail would originate at Springer Mountain in Georgia and wind its way up the east coast until finally reaching its objective: Maine’s Baxter State Park, where Mount Katahdin majestically resided. Leona recalled hearing her father say that an old Indian once told him that Katahdin was taken from the Indian word Kette-Adene: or ‘greatest mountain’.

  After viewing her state from afar, Leona zoomed in further and clearly saw the Penobscot River running from the center of Maine to the Atlantic Ocean. Just twenty miles southeast of the river’s end, and a similar distance to the east of the Penobscot Bay, was Mount Desert Island: the home of what only one year later would become the first national park east of the Mississippi. Although at first called Lafayette National Park, it would be renamed Acadia National Park in 1929. Although never having been there, Leona knew that Acadia’s major tourist attractions were the elegant estates belonging to the Rockefellers, Carnegies, Morgans, Fords, Vanderbilts, and Astors; the scenic carriage roads built by John D. Rockefeller, Jr.; and Cadillac Mountain: known for its magnificent view and as the first place in the United Stated to be warmed by the Sun’s early morning rays when the huge, brilliant star seemingly floats out of the cold north-Atlantic waters.

  “It’s so peaceful here,” Leona couldn’t help but think.

  Her gaze was inescapably drawn to the beauty of the pristine Acadia landscape.

  “Nothing can match this,” she thought; and indeed, no one could question her judgment.

  From the majestic rock-bound coast where ocean tides ferociously pounded its shores, sending massive sprays of white, foamy saltwater high into the air; to the luscious green forest with countless varieties of inhabitants, including two eerie sounding loons that began swimming gracefully like underwater darts in scenic little Jordan Pond; the awe-inspiring scenery and wildlife was, if nothing else, diverse and unforgettable. But it was snowy-white seagulls—with bright-orange beaks and feet—and majestic bald eagles circling high overhead that most inspired Leona. She could have lingered there for hours inhaling the refreshing smell of the ocean and taking in the beauty of Acadia, but instead her thoughts turned to something else.

  “I wonder what my home looks like from up here?”

  In response to her own question she followed the Penobscot River back to Bangor. Then she zoomed in on the little house on Palm Street where she was born. Her old home and surrounding neighborhood, including Chapin Park, looked just as they had when she left. But of course they should, since the Haleys had moved from there only six months earlier.

  —1—

  Having satisfied her curiosity about her old neighborhood, Leona decided to seek out her family’s new home. She easily located Ohio Street and followed it northward to Glenburn, almost instantaneously reaching her new abode. From the aerial view above the Haley property she saw her mother’s once magnificent, but now lifeless flower garden, which would have looked much like a beautiful multicolored bulls-eye had it still been summer, not November. Surrounding it were the familiar fields that also surrounded her peaceful home, and bordering the west field was the woodland filled with the long, winding trails that her father had fashioned. Then out of the blue a thought jumped into Leona’s mind.

  “I think I’ll see what Aunt Mae is up to.”

  Almost instantly she was looking at the home of her mother’s oldest sister. Mary Ann ‘Mae’ Carver was now 44, five years older than Margaret. Mae, her husband Frank, and their four children lived next-door to younger sister Maude, her husband Charles, and their two children. Maude was now thirty-four, five years younger than Margaret. Their homes were on the same side of Broadway, a mile south of the Winter Fun Road and about two miles by road from the Haleys’ home on Ohio Street. The first thing she saw was Mae and her husband scurrying toward their clothesline.

  “Hurry, Frank!” Mae yelled. “I think it’s gonna rain.”

  “Naw,” he answered. “I don’t feel anythin’ in my bones, so there ain’t nawthin’ to worry ‘bout.”

  “But it sure looks like it’s gonna rain to me. Come on, help me get these clothes off the line.”

  “Okay, but I’m tellin’ ya: tain’t gonna do nawthin’.”

  “Tell it to that cloud!” she said while pointing overhead. Just then the skies emptied.

  “Darn if you’re not right again, Frank,”
Mae said somewhat sarcastically. “It’s probably not gonna do anything after all.”

  A soaked, red-faced Frank laughed as he rushed to help his wife take the wash off the clothesline.

  “Need some help?” Maude yelled out the window of her house, where she had been watching her sister and brother-in-law interact.

  “I think we’re all set, sis,” Mae answered. “Even though it sure appears to be raining cats and dogs, according to Frank this rain has’ta be a mirage. Either that, or he’s just gotten too damn old; or maybe he’s come down with the same malady that little Leona is cursed with: an imagination bigger than the Grand Canyon.”

  Leona laughed out loud at her aunt’s sarcasm.

  “It’s too bad Aunt Mae’s gonna move away. I really get a kick outta her,” she thought. Then she watched her aunt and uncle hurry into the house, each with a basket of soaked clothes.

  “Let’s hang ‘em up on the porch,” Mae said. “You know, Frank, I’m not complaining, ‘cause I like Maine’s weather, most of the time anyway, but I’ll sure be glad when we finally move out west. I know I’ll miss havin’ a White Christmas, but I darn sure won’t miss the long, cold winters. When do you think we’ll be heading to California?”

  “My boss says it’ll be at least a year.”

  “Well, I can’t wait. Tell him to hurry it up, will you?”

  “I’ll be sure to do that, sweetheart. I’m sure he’ll listen to me.”

  —2—

  When finished at Aunt Mae’s, Leona returned to her home by way of the Winter Fun Road. On the way she decided to turn left onto the Six Mile Falls Road to visit her Uncle Bill, who lived with his wife Jennie and their adopted son in a small cabin about 600 feet south of the Winter Fun Road. She had intended to visit him a long time ago but never got around to it. Leona liked her uncle a lot, since the very first time she remembered him visiting their home on Palm Street in Bangor when she was 5 years old. He was funny, always telling jokes and amusing stories about the people he met. The last time she saw her Uncle Bill was when he helped her father make some repairs on their new home in Glenburn and then helped him build his stable, chicken pen, and workshop. She also liked Aunt Jennie, who cooked tons of food for the Haleys the first couple of weeks. Thanks to her kindness, Margaret was freed of cooking duties and was able to get her new house in order much quicker than she otherwise would have. When Leona stopped by Uncle Bill’s log cabin, she saw her uncle splitting firewood, and her nose told her that Aunt Jennie was inside cooking an apple pie, so she decided to head home.

  Upon arriving home she used her power to zoom in, causing the Haley property to become larger and larger before her eyes, until she clearly saw her mother and father playing horseshoes in the backyard. Nearby she could see Lillian playing on the familiar tire swing. Then she zoomed in on the house and through her parent’s bedroom window where she spied 3-and-a-half-year-old Wally fast asleep in his large crib, the same one she slept so peacefully in as a baby. Peering unseen from her perch in the sky, Leona was astonished to see herself playing marbles on the living room floor with Arlene.

  “It’s my turn now,” she heard her sister say.

  Leona then heard herself say: “I’m bored, Arlene. I’ve had enough of playing marbles; I’m gonna go outside to play on the porch swing.”

  Then, from her seat on the comet, Leona watched herself go out the back door and call to her parents.

  “Mama! Papa! Can you swing with me?”

  “We sure can, Leona,” her mother answered. “Besides, playing horseshoes against your father is no challenge anyway. I might as well be playing against little Wally.”

  Murdock laughed and said: “Don’t you believe your Mama. I can beat her with one hand tied behind my back.”

  Leona giggled and ran to her parents, taking their hands and leading them back to the porch. Just as she was about to sit on the swing, she heard Arlene calling to her.

  “Now what does she want?” Leona asked.

  “I can’t read minds, dear,” Margaret shrugged. “You’d bes’ go find out.”

  Leona turned and ran into the house. After Murdock sat down beside Margaret and she started to swing, he looked at her and began to softly whistle Beautiful Dreamer.

  “Murdy, when are you going to teach Leona the words to that song?”

  “Funny you should ask; I just happen to have the lyrics right here in my shirt pocket. While running an errand for Mr. Fogg in Bangor yesterday I stopped at the library and found an old songbook. I jotted down the lyrics for Leona. Slipped my mind until now.”

  Margaret took the paper from her husband and looked over the lyrics. Leona magically watched with interest from her comet, curiously peering over her unsuspecting mother’s shoulder as she softly read the words to Beautiful Dreamer.

  “As usual, Stephen Foster’s lyrics are really beautiful, Murdy,” Margaret said after she finished.

  “That they are, dear, that they are. I can’t wait to hear Leona singing them. In the meantime, why don’t you try your hand at it?”

  “Okay, Murdy, you asked for it.”

  And then, as Murdock started whistling again, Margaret began singing the words. Although her voice was not quite as nice as Leona’s, it was nice enough from Murdock’s point of view. And Leona’s too. About halfway through the song the unseen 8-year-old joined in. She enjoyed hearing her voice in harmony with her mother’s.

  “I wish Papa could hear the both of us,” she said to herself.

  When Margaret was finished singing she laid the paper on her lap and talked with Murdock about his work. While the two talked, Leona spent the next few minutes melodically singing the words over and over to herself, to the tune she had stored away in her memory. After humming it so many times over the last two years, the melody was there for her to retrieve anytime she wanted to. And now she wanted the lyrics to be stored there too. It wasn’t long before they were.

  “I can’t wait until Mama and Papa can hear me sing it,” she thought.

  And then Leona awoke completely refreshed from her extraordinary dream, feeling more exhilarated and more at ease than she had ever felt before.

  Chapter 33

  Thanksgiving in Glenburn

  Although she had many vivid dreams in the past, Leona could not remember a dream as realistic and, at the same time, as fantastic as the one she just awoke from. In one sense it was truly a surrealistic experience. In another sense it was as if everything in her dream was actually real, not some figment of her subconscious imagination: the comet she rode through the sky, the Earth’s enormous rivers and mountains, awesome sites like the Grand Canyon, and, most of all, seeing her family enjoying life in the small, serene town of Glenburn. The latter was the best part of the journey for the little girl. Although at first she could not fully understand why her parents wanted so badly to move to Glenburn, now she did.

  Immediately after waking, Leona had the urge to tell everyone about her remarkable dream, but she decided to wait until morning. She knew that trying to convince her family that the adventurous dream was real was not going to be easy, so she wanted to sleep on it and decide if she should even try.

  Upon awakening on Thanksgiving morning, Leona had her answer: she still believed that her dream was real and she would surely explode if she didn’t tell someone. So the first thing she did was jump out of bed and run to her sisters’ bedroom.

  “Wake up! Wake up!” she shouted.

  “What is it?” groggy Arlene asked.

  “Lillian! Wake up!” Leona yelled as she shook her sister’s almost lifeless body. “You’re never gonna believe what happened to me.”

  After Leona was done telling them all about her adventure, Arlene only had one thing to say.

  “You’re crazy, Leona. That wasn’t real. It was just your overactive imagination at work again.”

  “Was not!” Leona sai
d.

  “Was to.”

  “Was not! It was real! As real as you sitting there. What do you think, Lillian?”

  “Ahhh? About what?” her still half-asleep sister was barely able to say.

  “Oh, forget her, Leona. She won’t be awake for at least an hour,” Arlene said in a clearly sarcastic tone.

  Leona and Arlene looked at each other and laughed. Then Arlene added one more thing.

  “But she won’t believe you either when she finally does wake up. You’re so lost in fantasy, half the time you wouldn’t know reality if it jumped up and bit you on the butt.”

  “Oh yeah!” Leona countered. “You two lamebrains are so skeptical you wouldn’t know the truth if it was staring you in the face.”

  After a short pause she said: “Oh forget it! I’m gonna go tell Mama and Papa. They’ll believe me. Just watch!”

  “Good luck with that!” Arlene shouted.

  Leona already knew where to find her mother because she could smell a pumpkin pie cooling on the table and an apple pie cooking in the oven. As usual, Margaret had been up for hours preparing the Thanksgiving meal. Leona went running into the kitchen yelling excitedly to her mother.

  “Mama! I had the most wonderful dream yesterday when I fell asleep on your swing. I was riding on a comet and I got to see places in the world that I never thought I’d ever see in my whole life.”

  “That’s wonderful, dear. Tell me all about it while I finish stuffing this turkey.”