by Kate Hewitt
“Well, they should,” Lucas said. “You ought to go to high school, and even university, if you wanted to.”
Ellen let out a little laugh. “Not many girls go to university, Lucas.”
“Some do,” he insisted. “And with your drawing, you could go to an art school. Learn things properly.”
“I didn’t even know there was such a thing.” She could not even imagine it: a school just for art! Drawing all day, perhaps, and painting too probably. Yet Lucas might as well have suggested she fly to the moon.
“I don’t even know if I’d pass the entrance examination to Glebe,” she said. “I’m not half as clever as you are.” No matter what Miss Gardiner had said, she still found arithmetic painstakingly difficult.
“You’re clever enough. Things can happen if you make them, Ellen. You should ask your aunt and uncle to let you come back.” Lucas paused, and a mottled flush appeared above his celluloid collar. “I’d like it if you did.”
“I hope I can.” More than she’d ever admit to Lucas, or even herself. Ellen glanced once more around the room. “Will Jed take the entrance examination to Glebe?”
“Pa wants him to take it this spring,” Lucas said. “But Jed’s dragging his feet, as always. He told Pa he’d rather stay at the farm than go away to Kingston.” Ellen detected a very slight sneer in Lucas’ voice, or perhaps it was just disbelief. She had the feeling that Lucas couldn’t wait to leave the farm, whereas Jed simply wanted to stay. The two brothers couldn’t be more different.
“Well, we’ll see,” she finally said, “what happens in 1905.”
Yet at that moment she didn’t want the clock to ring in the New Year, or the old one to pass. For in 1905 she would return to Seaton, and face her aunt and uncle and the drudgery of the store, and all Ellen wanted was to stay on the island forever.
FOUR
New Year’s came and went, the snow melted into a January thaw, and soon Ellen realized the three months which had glistened so promisingly ahead of her were now slipping away like pearls off a string. Every day seemed so sweet, so short, and she found herself perched on her windowsill each evening, watching the sun slip towards the lake and lamenting the end of the day.
“Why can’t you stay longer?” Caro demanded one day as they helped Rose and Dyle empty the sap pails in the woods behind the farm.
Ellen had never been part of a syruping before, and she was fascinated with the process; she loved the gentle plink-plink of the sap as it dripped into the tin buckets, the frothy foam that came to the top of the pan as it boiled; and best of all, the finished syrup, thick and brown and sweet, which they poured directly onto the snow from a ladle, and let it harden into swirls and designs that they could then break off and eat.
Now she sucked on a piece of the maple candy and shook her head. “I wish I could,” she told Caro, “but Aunt Ruth and Uncle Hamish want me back. I’ve been gone half the year.”
“So?” Caro pouted, hands on hips. “They didn’t want you in the first place, did they?”
Ellen winced at Caro’s blunt speaking, even though she wondered herself if it was true. Aunt Ruth still wrote diligently every week, and Ellen always responded. The letters had exchanged a variety of news without seeming to hold much affection or warmth.
“Maybe so,” she said at last, “but Aunt Ruth has bid me home, and she’s even sent the train fare.” It had arrived last week, and the tickets lay in a brown envelope on the parlor mantle, next to the porcelain clock. Ellen did not even like to look at those tickets. She could not bear the thought of that endless train ride, and then stuffy Seaton at its end... She pictured the sitting room with its horsehair sofa and relentlessly polished furniture, the big kitchen with its proud icebox, even the store with its long marble counter and shiny scales. Compared to the McCaffertys’ lovable shabbiness, she could not stand any of it.
And as for her aunt and uncle... guilt niggled at her when she thought of them. They had been kind to her in their own way, and certainly generous. They’d taken her in, and fed and clothed her, and then of course there was the red velvet dress, once more swathed in tissue paper, lying in its big box in her bedroom. Ellen wondered if she would ever wear it again.
Caro suddenly threw her arms around Ellen. “Well, I don’t want you to go,” she said, and Ellen returned the rather sticky hug with a sad smile.
The days slipped by faster and faster, or so it seemed to Ellen. A blur of color and wonder and fun, although there was hard work too, helping with the syrup which Dyle took over to the mainland after the ice broke up, and sold in Kingston and even Watertown, in New York State, bringing back little presents for them all. For Ellen he had a box of colored pencils. She’d never seen so many different colors before.
Ellen found herself dawdling at the strangest moments, washing dishes or doing her sums or making her bed, as if slowing herself down would slow time down too, although of course it didn’t. Time just seemed to go faster and faster, each day coming and going in a blur until there was only a week left before Captain Jonah would take her back to the mainland in his funny little boat.
That Friday afternoon Jed took the entrance examination for Glebe Collegiate. He stayed alone after school, looking more sullen than ever, and Ellen walked back with the McCaffertys and Lucas, thinking of Jed crammed into that little desk, scowling down at his paper and scratching his way through his sums.
“Do you think he’ll pass?” she asked Lucas, who just shrugged.
“Jed was never much of one for learning,” he said, “but he’s smart enough.”
Ellen said nothing, but her insides churned on Jed’s account. She knew school didn’t come easily to Jed, and the thought of him failing, failing something Lucas, no doubt, would pass easily, made her offer another awkward prayer to God.
Dear God. It’s me again. Ellen Copley. Could you please let Jed pass his entrance examination? Amen.
They’d just reached Jasper Lane, the oak trees that lined the little drive now stark and bare, thrust up to the sky, when Ellen stopped in her tracks.
“I forgot my lunch pail!”
Caro rolled her eyes. “Oh Ellen, we’re nearly all the way home.”
“I know, but I’d better get it,” Ellen said, already turning around. “I’ll need it for tomorrow. Tell Aunt Rose I’ll be home as quick as I can.”
She hurried back towards school almost eagerly, and she knew it was because she wanted to see if Jed had passed or not. He’d taken the exam that afternoon, and Miss Gardiner had said she’d mark it straight after. She could be finished by now.
Ellen was just approaching the school when the door banged open and Jed strode out, a particularly fierce scowl darkening his face. Ellen took an inadvertent step back. He didn’t see her, and she watched as he kicked at a maple tree before resting his forehead briefly against the rough bark, his eyes scrunched shut.
Ellen didn’t move, barely even breathed, but Jed sensed her anyway for he opened his eyes and stepped back from the tree, turning to glare at her. “What are you doing hiding in the woods, Miss Bossy?”
Ellen swallowed, her heart thudding hard. “I just came back for my lunch pail. But... I’m sorry, Jed.”
He narrowed his eyes, fists planted on his hips. “And just what are you sorry for?”
Startled, Ellen stared at him. “Well for... for your examination... I mean, you must have...”
“Failed?” His voice rang out through the schoolyard. Ellen swallowed and gave a little nod. “Well, that shows how much you know. I didn’t fail, Miss Bossy. I passed.” He sounded disgusted, and still scowling, he strode past her and down the lane.
The next morning as they walked to school Lucas explained it to her. Jed had already stormed ahead, still sullen, and the McCaffertys walked with their heads bent together, involved in a heated discussion about whether Mr. Stevenson would let anyone ride in his automobile, and if you’d really want to.
“He didn’t want to pass, really,” Lucas explained. “Be
cause then Pa’d make him go to Glebe.”
Ellen shook her head, not understanding. “But he could have answered them wrong, if he’d wanted to.”
Lucas shook his head. “That wouldn’t be honorable, would it? And it’s not Jed’s way, to make a mistake on purpose.”
She supposed that was true. It was strange, though, to feel sorry for someone who had succeeded. “So he’ll go to Glebe next year?”
Lucas shrugged. “He will if Pa has his way. But Jed’s stubborn, and he told Pa he needed him too much to have him hare off to Kingston for two years.” Lucas paused, his expression somber. “Which is true.”
“On the farm, you mean?”
He nodded. “Jed does his fair share of work, I’ll tell you that.”
“But you could do it, if you needed to. If Jed were to go.”
Lucas looked slightly startled by that suggestion, but then he nodded. “Pa said we’d manage, and I expect we would. But Jed doesn’t want to go, and he’s almost old enough to say yes or no about his own life, or so he says.”
They’d reached the school, with Jed already disappearing into the building, the McCaffertys close behind. “Well, I hope he gets what he wants,” Ellen said with a sigh. She didn’t know what she thought about Jed going to Glebe; she only knew she’d love to have such a chance.
The night before Ellen was to leave for Seaton the McCaffertys threw her a going-away party. It seemed as if half the island came, although of course Ellen knew that couldn’t be true. Dyle had told her nearly two thousand people called the island home.
Still, the parlor was full to bursting with friends: the Lymans save for Maeve, as well as a few other families from church and school; Miss Gardiner, and Captain Jonah, and even Mr. Stevenson of the fancy automobile had come with his pretty young American wife, promising Ellen a spin the next time she came to the island.
“I don’t know when that will be,” Ellen told him somberly. “My aunt hasn’t said.”
Rose put an arm around Ellen’s shoulders. “Oh, we’ll convince her right enough,” she said cheerfully. “We need you here, Ellen. I’ll write to Rose and ask her to send you back in September, just in time for school.”
Ellen only nodded. She suspected her aunt Ruth would find a good reason for her to stay in Seaton, serving in the store and making herself as useful as possible. Aunt Ruth might not love her or even like her very much, but it seemed she still wanted to have her around.
It was bittersweet to have everyone gathered around her that last night, playing parlor games like Hunt the Slipper or Change Seats. Part of Ellen could hardly believe she was here, in this loving circle of friends and family, laughing and smiling and enjoying herself so very much. She felt so blessed, and yet she could not bear to think of boarding the train tomorrow, and returning to Seaton.
The last game of the evening was Throwing the Smile. Ellen loved this game, although she didn’t like being in the middle, trying to make a chosen person smile. You were meant to be silly, and then turn serious all of a sudden, ‘throwing’ the smile, as you looked directly at someone in an attempt to make them laugh.
Ellen watched as several people took turns in the center; Peter cavorted around like a wild thing, causing half the group to burst into giggles, and Dyle was so good at looking terribly solemn, despite the twinkle in his eye, that Rose was lost as soon as he looked at her.
Then Jed was pushed into the middle, clearly reluctant, scowling as usual.
“Now remember, Jed,” Mr. Lyman said mildly, “you’re meant to smile.”
Jed’s mouth turned up at the corners, but only just. “Oh, Jed, honestly!” Caro called out. “That’s a sorry excuse for a smile.”
This was met with a chorus of agreement and with a long-suffering sigh Jed gave a proper smile, although Ellen could tell it didn’t reach his eyes. He moved from person to person, trying to get them to laugh, but everyone looked back at him straight-faced.
“Come on, Jed, you can do better than that!” Captain Jonah called. “I can smile better, boy, and I’ve only got half my teeth!”
For a second Jed’s smile threatened to turn into a scowl, and Ellen almost felt sorry for him. He might not be making it easy for himself, but no one else was either. Then his smile did disappear, and he whipped around suddenly to stare right at Ellen.
She felt as if she’d frozen to her chair, pinned beneath that steely gray gaze. Her mind was too shocked to do anything but register the blazing determination in Jed’s eyes, and then distantly she heard someone tell him he could sit back down.
“Too bad you couldn’t make her smile, Jed. Ellen’s a hard nut to crack!”
Ellen felt a flush start on her face and she looked down at her lap. She knew Jed was just playing the game, but something in his eyes had shaken her right down to her toes.
The next day Ellen left for Seaton. All of the McCaffertys accompanied her to the ferry, and poor Ruthie and Sarah clung to her in tears. Ellen felt near tears herself. She’d been here for eight months, but it felt like a lifetime. Another life, and one she wanted to keep.
“Don’t worry now, sweetheart,” Dyle said, drawing her close so she could smell the leather of his coat and the tang of his pipe tobacco. Smells that reminded her a little bit of Da and made it that much harder not to cry. “You’ll be back before you know it. We’ll make sure of that.”
Ellen just nodded, her throat too tight to speak. Rose pulled her into another hug. “Remember what I said,” she whispered, “about Ruth.”
Ellen did remember; Rose seemed to think Ruth loved her, in her own way. Despite the velvet dress, Ellen had her doubts. And she still didn’t want to go back to Seaton to find out if Rose was right or not.
She hugged all the little ones before climbing into the boat, waving madly as Captain Jonah pushed off from the dock, and the blue-green waters of Lake Ontario churned up, foaming white.
The island was just on the cusp of spring, and Ellen longed to stay to see the cherry trees burst into glorious blossom and then the tiny wild strawberries growing in the fields by the Lymans’ farm. Caro had told her all about it, and Ellen wished desperately that she could be there for summer. She wanted to pick strawberries and raspberries and apples, to swim in the pond that separated the McCaffertys’ property from the Lymans’, to help Rose plant and weed and harvest the kitchen garden, and have long, glorious summer days to enjoy with her friends and family.
It was not to be. Amherst Island grew smaller and smaller until it was no more than a gray-green smudge on the horizon, and then it was gone completely, almost as if it had never been.
“You stayed here a good part of the year,” Captain Jonah said in commiseration. Like most islanders he considered returning to the mainland something best avoided.
Ellen merely smiled in reply, for her mind churned with the thoughts of what she would miss this summer, as well as what she already missed. The warm, lighted kitchen at the end of Jasper Lane, everyone gathered around the long pine table; Patch, now six months old, at Ellen’s knee, begging for scraps. She’d miss the walks to school, the snug warmth of the schoolhouse, wrestling through her arithmetic with Miss Gardiner, or teaching the little ones their letters, slates on their laps, Sarah’s head against her shoulder.
She’d miss the lake, having captured its many moods on paper, from the dazzling blue-green of morning to the golden sheen of sunset.
And she’d miss the people... Dyle, spinning stories by the fire, always good-natured and lovably forgetful; Rose, practical and full of humor; the children, who buzzed around her like happy bees; and Lucas, who shyly asked to see her drawings and lent her his favorite books.
And Jed. This gave Ellen a little jolt, for what was there to miss about Jed? He was sullen and unpleasant and lost no opportunity to tease her. And yet... he’d given her a puppy, and he made sure no one else teased her, and Ellen knew she would miss him too.
“Almost there,” Captain Jonah called, and Ellen saw that the faint, dark line on
the horizon had become a bustling town, boats bobbing in the harbor, smoke unfurling into the blue sky.
She thought of the long train ride ahead, the night spent in an unfamiliar boarding house, and at the end of it, her life back in Seaton, and her stomach felt as if she’d swallowed a stone.
Seaton... with Uncle Hamish and Aunt Ruth, who both seemed as pale and insubstantial as ghosts, yet would be very real and present in just another day, looking at her as if she didn’t belong and never would.
Taking a breath and squaring her shoulders, Ellen smiled at Captain Jonah. Maybe life in Seaton wouldn’t be as bad as it used to be. Maybe it would be better, or at least different. Things would be different now, she told herself, because she was different. She certainly wouldn’t care if the girls turned their noses up at her, or Mrs. Cardle made fun of her accent.
Captain Jonah watched her with a certain understanding, and smiled in approval. “That’s my girl,” he said. “You’ll be back soon enough.”
Just twenty-four hours later the train from Rouse’s Point was rolling into Seaton, and Ellen peered out the window at a town that had become both familiar and strange. Had anything changed in Seaton, she wondered. Had anything happened? The town seemed just as smugly content as it had been when she left, with its neat wooden buildings, the impressive brick bank with its polished marble steps.
“Why, is it Ellen Copley?” The Seaton stationmaster started forward as Ellen came off the train. “Ruth said something, but you have grown a bit. I scarcely recognized you.”
“It’s been some time,” Ellen allowed. “Is Aunt Ruth here? Or Uncle Hamish?” She tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear as she scanned the empty station platform. This time she’d made sure to look neat upon her arrival; she’d brushed her hair and scrubbed her face with her handkerchief. “I wrote them with the train times.”
There was an uncomfortable pause and then the stationmaster said, his tone as jovial as Uncle Hamish’s, “You know how they are about minding the store. I expect Hamish will be along soon.”
