Being Mary Ro

by Ida Linehan Young

  She quickly realized that pacing and cleaning to keep her mind occupied wouldn’t help. Something was wrong with Mary; she just knew it. She couldn’t stand the not knowing anymore. The racket she made by pushing the chairs about and sweeping the floor didn’t drown out the sounds of the bell, nor did it help settle her nerves. Instead, it woke Danol.

  “What the hell is going on?” he asked, still half dazed and nauseated.

  “I don’t know,” Meg answered. “The bells in the church are ringing.”

  “Well, is Mary gone to see what’s happening?”

  “No, she—no.”

  “Meg, where is Mary?”

  “I don’t know.” Meg lost control and began to cry.

  Danol tried to get up too quickly and fell back with an oath that Meg could neither understand nor repeat. She stepped forward and tried to steady him so he wouldn’t end up on the floor.

  “Meg, what do you mean you don’t know? Where did Mary go?” Danol grimaced through the pain.

  Meg continued to sob. “She left to go for a walk this morning but hasn’t come back. I thought she would be here by now.”

  “Meg, stop crying. It’s important. Which way did Mary go?”

  “I didn’t look, so I don’t know. I do know she likes to keep to the woods and not on the trails. She could be anywhere.”

  They heard hurried footsteps on the loose gravel in the lane. Meg ran out through the porch and swung open the door crying, “Mary, where’ve you been?”

  To her disappointment it was Richard, and he was winded.

  He stopped abruptly in front of her. “Meg, are you and Mary all right? Two of the Davis girls are gone, and Brian sent me up here to check on you two.”

  “What do you mean they’re gone? Did they go home?”

  Richard took deep breaths and explained that Regina and Ethyl Davis, the two nurses, left for home in Colinet that morning. With two doctors and all the volunteers, they decided on a respite. Their father had walked out from Colinet to meet them and showed up at the store. He thought they were delayed, but Mrs. Ange related that they had left just after breakfast.

  “A couple of volunteers were a short while behind Mr. Davis, and they saw no sign of the pair either. Mrs. Ange brought him over to the church with the doctors, where they raised the alarm.” Richard’s face was worried, his freckles all the more pronounced with his red hair.

  “Oh, Richard. Mary Ro is gone, too,” Meg sobbed.

  “What?” Richard asked. “What do you mean she’s gone?”

  Meg collapsed on the step and bawled. “She’s gone. She went for a walk and hasn’t come back. I was getting worried about her when I heard the bell. Richard, what if something has happened to Mary Ro, too?”

  Richard grabbed Meg’s shoulders. “Meg, you have to calm down and tell me exactly what you know.”

  “Peter showed up yesterday evening and spooked Mary. She wanted to go for a long walk,” Meg said between sobs.

  “Where did she go?” Richard asked her, still holding her shoulders. He shook her gently. “Meg, where did she go?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.”

  Richard pulled her to her feet. “That’s okay, Meg. We’ll find her. We’ll find all three of them. Meg, we have to tell everyone that Mary Ro is missing. Get your coat and hurry.”

  Meg swivelled and rushed inside with Richard close on her heels. As she crossed the kitchen to get her coat, she stopped. Richard was behind her and would see Danol.

  She turned to explain but saw Danol wasn’t on the daybed. She kept quiet and carried on into the front porch to grab her jacket. She got a bit of a start when she saw Danol leaning against the wall in the front room. He motioned for her to keep silent, and she nodded ever so slightly. She shoved her arms into her coat sleeves and hurriedly fixed the buttons. Rushing back through the kitchen, she grabbed Richard’s hand for reassurance. He paused before closing his hand around hers and led her from the house. They rushed to the church. When they burst through the doors, Richard let her go. Meg was still crying for her missing friend.

  Richard shouted for everyone to be quiet. “Mary Ro is missing, too.”

  Everyone in the room turned in unison, several exclaiming with surprise.

  Peter was the first to make it to them, followed closely by Brian and Carla. “Where is Mary?” they asked.

  “Meg, stop crying now and tell the folks what you know,” Richard said. He wished he was still holding her hand so he could will her his strength. Meg explained between sobs that Mary had gone for a long walk and hadn’t returned.

  “It’s your fault,” she said, pointing at Peter. “If you hadn’t shown up yesterday she wouldn’t have gone to the woods.”

  “What do you mean, miss?” Peter asked.

  Meg told them about Mary’s meeting with Peter and her subsequent need to be alone. “She should’ve been back by now.”

  “Peter, what’s she talking about?” Brian asked.

  “I went to see her yesterday evening just to say hello. I was only on the step for a moment, and then I left. This young girl was with her.”

  “If you upset her . . .” Brian began, before Carla touched his arm.

  “Let’s everyone calm down,” Carla said. “We need to concentrate on finding your sister.”

  “Meg, do you know where she went?” Brian asked.

  Meg started to cry again, shaking her head.

  “All she knows is that Mary went into the woods for a walk,” Richard said. “She doesn’t know which way.” The room erupted with talk again—three girls were missing!

  Brian quickly took charge. He organized the group. He sent people out along the trails to Colinet and North Harbour to look for any signs of the trio. He assigned Mr. Vince Doran to fire off shots at intervals as a beacon in case they were lost. Three rapidly fired rounds were a signal to return. Mrs. Ange went to the shop to get some cartridges. And so the search began.

  Danol was certain that Sherman Pearce was in John’s Pond. He had to be. Pearce must know that he was here and had taken Mary to draw Danol out. He was so blasted weak that he could hardly move, but Mary had to be saved no matter what.

  Although unfamiliar with the surroundings, he remembered where he had gotten under the fence behind the shed. There was a footpath of some sort and could be the route Mary had taken. It was more worn than any other place in the field, and only Mary would use it.

  Frustrated and cursing his weakness, he wished he had his gun, but a quick scan of the parlour didn’t reveal any place where Mary could have hidden it. Instead, he took the paring knife from the resting place on the warmer. That would have to do.

  He left by the back door and was outside for the first time in three days. The fresh, salty air gave him a jolt as he took a deep breath. Every step was excruciating, but he had to find Mary. He stumbled to the shed and used it as leverage to get around to the place in the fence where he thought she must have gone. His legs were so heavy. He tripped on some rocks and hit the ground before he could right himself.

  He cursed, put his two palms under his chest, and struggled to crawl to the fence. But his body betrayed him. He tried to fight it. His vision dulled, a gunshot rang out, and he collapsed. An explosion rocked through his head as everything went black.

  Blood pounded in Mary’s veins. The scraping noise was treasonous to her concealment as she tentatively pushed back the door. Slowly stepping onto the worn floorboards, she could see thick dust particles swimming through the streams of light pouring in from overhead and behind her. Her eyes took a few seconds to adjust, and she quickly looked around, her body poised to bolt.

  “Hello,” she whispered, but there was no response. She moved farther into the dusty room, the floorboards creaking with every step.

  “Hello,” she said, a little louder. “Is anybody here?”r />
  She heard a sound before seeing movement in the corner of one of the old horse stalls. “Hello,” she ventured again, her nerves pinging wildly.

  “Who’s there? Show yourself,” she demanded, sounding braver than she felt.

  More muffled sounds and thudding noises. Mary saw a hay prong on the nearby wall. She pushed aside the cobwebs, hoping the handle wasn’t dry-rotted. It felt sturdy enough when she clasped the rough wooden shaft, pointing the rusted forks in front of her.

  She thought of the man who’d been snooping around yesterday. If he was trying to spy on her, she would make sure he knew she wasn’t afraid to defend herself.

  Edging toward the source of the sound, she felt her frantic heart was sure to burst in her chest. In the dimmest corner of the stable she could barely make out a darker shadowed lump on the floor.

  “Who’s there?” she asked again, trying to muster authority in her voice and failing miserably. Betrayed by a tremor.

  The lump was moving. Wait, there might be two lumps. What in the name of God had she stumbled on?

  “Who’s there?” she demanded again.

  “Mmm, mmm, mmm,” she heard.

  Almost at the stall, she tentatively reached downward. Her hand shook while the other held the pitchfork. Her fingers landed on a boot. And it was moving.

  “Come out,” Mary demanded. “Come out of there.”

  The boot moved toward her, and the entire shape seemed to wiggle closer. She felt skirts. Mary realized it was a girl.

  She dropped the pitchfork, the thud reverberating through the old building as it bounced off the floorboards. Mary’s fear turned to concern as she moved farther into the stall. Her eyes were still adjusting to the darkness when she sensed, rather than saw, two distinct silhouettes. She gently patted along the girl’s dress to the waist. One arm felt oddly out of place and crossed behind her back.

  “My God, you’re tied up.”

  She knelt behind the figure and worked to release her hands. The girl quickly pulled free, gasping in panic.

  Mary grasped the girl’s shoulders, almost able to make out her face, but there was something covering it. Touching cloth material around the girl’s head, she felt along the neckline and found a bulky knot. Her eyes continued to adjust to the darkness. Mary could see that the girl had a gag in her mouth and quickly untied the knot.

  “Thank God you found us before he came back.”

  “Who came back?”

  “Quick, we have to help my sister. She’s in a bad way.”

  Mary helped the girl to her knees, then leaned forward to the other figure lying still on the floor.

  “Regina, Ginny, are you all right?”

  The girl’s voice sounded familiar. Regina. “You’re the Davis girls,” Mary said.

  “Yes, I’m Ethyl. This is my sister, Ginny—Regina. She’s in a bad way.” Ethyl moved quickly toward the still form.

  “What happened?” Mary asked, quickly determining the second girl’s hands were also bound and untying them. Though warm, the girl was motionless.

  Ethyl told Mary how they were struck from behind on their way home. She said she woke up in the barn. She could hear a man talking to himself and accusing them of having seen money in his room. He said that they would ruin his plan. She didn’t know what that meant, but he kept repeating it, asking if they had told anyone. He sounded like the man staying in the room next to them at Mrs. Ange’s, but she couldn’t be sure. She said she had scratched his arm and bitten his hand before he knocked her out again.

  As they talked, they worked quickly to get the gag off Regina, and Mary felt for broken bones.

  “She has a fine knot on the back of her head,” Mary said, assessing the girl. “She’s out cold.”

  “He must have dragged us here, although I don’t know where here is.”

  “You’re in an old abandoned stable in Alice’s Garden, on the trail to North Harbour.”

  “You’re Mary Ro, is that right? How did you find us?”

  “Yes, I am. And I was out walking. I often go this way.”

  “Do you think the man will come back?” Ethyl asked in a frightened voice.

  “He left you here for a reason. I would say yes, he’ll be back for you. We have to get you both out of here as quick as we can. Can you walk, Ethyl?” Mary reached out and grabbed Ethyl’s shoulders. “Stay still for a second till I check you over.”

  Ethyl winced as Mary’s fingers moved gently over a huge lump on the back of her head. Her hand came away sticky.

  “You’re bleeding and will need a few stitches. But for now, we have to get you both away from here.”

  “I think I can walk, but I don’t know how we can get Ginny out. How far are we from town?”

  “Too far in your condition. But I know these woods and can hide you. I’ll go for help. I can get to town fairly quickly.”

  She tore strips from her cotton petticoat. She wrapped the bindings around Ethyl’s head to keep the wound clean and stop the bleeding. With a firm grip on Regina’s shoulders, Mary dragged her from the stall, across the uneven wooden planks, and outside to the meadow. Ethyl followed her, although she was weak. She had gotten a fine clout. Mary could better determine how bad the girls were when they were in the daylight.

  Once outside, she was shocked when she saw their faces. Both sisters had been beaten about the head, their eyes blackened and lips split. Who would be so vicious?

  “Ethyl, can you tell me anything else about why you were attacked?” Mary asked, keeping her voice low.

  Ethyl tried to shake her head but winced at the motion. “I don’t know.”

  “Try to remember everything he said,” Mary said.

  Mary noticed the bottom rung of the worn wooden fence was partially broken a short distance away. It would be easy to dislodge and get the girls through the opening. As they laboured toward the rundown enclosure, Ethyl said, “Mary Ro, he mentioned something about coming back to finish the job if he didn’t need us to get away. What do you think that means?”

  “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know, but we don’t want to be here to find out.”

  “Mary Ro, we should hurry. He might be back any time. I don’t know how long he’s been gone,” Ethyl said.

  “Ethyl, you have to stay calm for Ginny’s sake. I can’t get her out of here if you don’t help me, and you can’t help me if we both can’t think.”

  Ethyl struggled to control her fear. They were almost to the fence when Regina moaned.

  “Ginny, can you hear me?” Ethyl asked. Regina opened her eyes for a second and looked at her sister. “Oh Ginny, what did he do to you?”

  Regina lifted her hand to Ethyl’s and squeezed it. Then she closed her eyes and her hand fell limp.

  The fence would be the tricky part. Mary showed Ethyl how to hold up the bottom rail without breaking it right in two. If it snapped, it would be more difficult to put back in place and disguise how they left. Ethyl kept it high enough for Mary to slide under and grab Regina’s clothes to pull her through. When Regina cleared the fence, Mary kept the opening high enough for Ethyl.

  Mary left them for a moment. She found a broken limb, climbed the fence a few feet from where they had come through, and went back to the stable doors. After raking the stick back and forth in the grass to disguise their trail, she returned to the girls, scrambled beneath the fence, replaced the bottom rail, and pitched the stick into the woods and out of sight.

  There was a deadfall in the trees about two hundred feet away. The girls could hide behind the sods on the uprooted spruce, and she would send somebody from town to bring them back. She didn’t think that either girl would be able to walk the distance—especially Regina—so the men would have to bring hay barrows and blankets to carry them out.

  Mary struggled to haul Regina over the rough terrain. The girl was i
n bad shape, waking occasionally to dig in her heels and push herself along. She was a fighter. Mary rested periodically to keep them all together and moving but was constantly checking for dangerous company.

  Again Mary retraced their steps, smoothing leaves and nettles over their tracks in the rocks and low brush. She heard a gunshot in the distance, which was not unusual except for its direction, coming from John’s Pond and not from the woods.

  “What was that?” Ethyl asked.

  “Nothing to worry about! It’s probably somebody shooting rabbits,” Mary replied, even though she knew that to be a lie since rabbits weren’t in season and most folks here used snares.

  By the time they made it to the windfall, Mary was exhausted but relieved to have finally reached relative safety. She cleared away a few rocks buried within the tangled roots of the giant fallen spruce. She quickly gathered small branches for Ethyl to sit on. The top of the tree was pointing toward the meadow, so the branches would serve as additional cover. Together they pulled Regina into her lap, and Ethyl hugged her sister from behind.

  “I’ll be back shortly. Don’t make a sound when you hear me coming,” Mary whispered. She heard another gunshot. “Remember, don’t make a sound.”

  She left, foraging farther back in the woods, breaking branches off some still-green trees that had fallen over the winter. She didn’t want to leave any signs that would alert a person to the hiding place. She returned with an armload of brush and quickly wove the limbs into the roots of the windfall, further screening the girls from view.

  “There now, that should do it. You’ll be safe here,” Mary told Ethyl. “Please try and stay quiet.”

  She heard another gunshot. “I think that means somebody is looking for you,” Mary said. Ethyl smiled through her broken lip and nodded her understanding.

  “We’ll be fine, Mary Ro. Thank God you found us,” Ethyl whispered before squeezing Regina tighter and closing her badly bruised eyes. Mary removed her coat and laid it over the two girls. She would be warm enough if she kept moving, but the girls might get cold.