Landmark Roses

by Nancy M Bell

  “All finished eating?” she asked brightly. “Let’s get you all cleaned up, shall we?”

  Between the three adults, and with help from the older girls, sticky faces and hands were soon spotless. Tragedy forgotten, the younger ones went off to play upstairs. Twelve year old Anna, Water and Agnes’ oldest child, hovered in the doorway.

  “Blackie’s going to be all right, isn’t he?” her voice wavered.

  “I don’t know,” Elsie answered honestly.

  Agnes went and put her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “The vet is with him, he’s doing all he can. Why don’t you say a prayer for Blackie?”

  “I want to go see him. I need to be with him,” Anna insisted.

  “That’s not a good idea. You’d just be in the way,” Elsie said.

  “I don’t care! I want to see him. I’ll stay out of the way, I promise,” she pleaded.

  “You heard your grossmama. That’s the last we’ll hear of it, understand?” Agnes hardened her voice.

  Anna twisted out from under her mother’s arm and bolted out the back door. Agnes followed her to the door and pulled the screen shut.

  “She’s not headed for the barn,” Agnes reported.

  “She’ll come around. Best let her be for a bit, I suppose,” Elsie agreed.

  * * *

  Elsie set her unfinished cup of tea down on the kitchen table. Across from her, Agnes and Susan exchanged worried looks. Anna hadn’t come back yet, but the girl had enough sense not to wander too far. A shadow flitted across the screen door a moment before the sound of footsteps announced the arrival of the men folks. Ike held the door for the vet to enter before him. Walter and Martin followed the pair. Susan got up to fill the coffee pot.

  “Can I offer you a cup of coffee?” Elsie addressed the veterinarian.

  “No, thank you, Mrs. Neufeld. I have to be running along, there’s another call to make on my way back to town,” he replied.

  She waited until Ike had paid the bill and walked the man out to his truck. He came back into the kitchen rubbing his hands together.

  “Getting chilly out there. There’s a nip in the air,” he declared.

  “What happened with the dog?” Susan asked before Elsie could get a word in.

  Ike shook his head. “Nothing much could be done. We did the kindest thing we could for him.”

  “Oh dear,” Susan blinked hard, “The children will be sad, they love that old thing.”

  “It’s Anna I’m concerned with. She’s had that dog since he was a puppy. If he was anyone’s dog, he was hers,” Elsie worried.

  “Anna will get over it,” Walter declared. “The girl needs to grow up, animals come and go. It’s part of life. She’d better get used to it.” He sat down and took the cup of coffee his wife handed him.

  “She is too soft hearted,” Agnes agreed. “Why, she cries every time we slaughter the hogs or the steers, and her silly laying hens think they’re pets, for goodness sake.”

  “Someone should go and find her, though. Let her know what happened,” Susan suggested.

  “I suppose.” Agnes picked up her sweater from a hook by the door.

  “Be gentle about it,” Susan said.

  “No sense beating around the bush. I’ll just tell her right out.” Agnes looked back with her hand on the latch.

  “Wait, Agnes. Let me go. I think I know where she’s gone,” Elsie got to her feet. She laid a hand on Ike’s shoulder as she passed. Even though he was presenting a stoic front, she knew he was distressed over the dog’s death. He’d been a good stock dog and he had saved the children from injury.

  Agnes shrugged and moved back to the table. “If you want, Mome. Be sure to take a cardigan, it’s getting cool out.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Elsie pulled her sweater on and went out the back door. The wind was picking up as the sun sank toward the distant horizon. Magpies bickered in the Saskatoon bushes competing for last of the purple-blue berries. Elsie ignored their antics and pushed through a gap in the undergrowth. Her feet found the faint path worn in the twisted grasses and remaining wild flowers. Anna has a secret hiding place on the far side of this mound. She leaned forward, feeling the strain in the back of her calves as she mounted the incline. A few large boulders crowned the top, blocking the prevailing winds and offering a secluded place for a person to sit and think, or just be alone. Elsie was familiar with the location having used it many times herself when she needed to wrestle with a situation. I wonder if Anna thinks she’s the only one who knows this place. Please God, let her be here.

  She reached the summit and rounded the hulking sandstone boulders. Pretending to ignore the girl sitting cross-legged in the grass at the base of the largest upright, Elsie pushed her hands into her pockets and gazed off across the prairie where it swept to the sky. The wind rippled the grasses, tossing them like waves on the sea.

  “It’s a pretty sight isn’t it?” Elsie remarked without looking at her granddaughter.

  “I guess.” Anna shrugged and plucked a heavy headed piece of grass which she proceeded to shred.

  “I figured I‘d find you up here. It’s one of my favourite spots too.” Elsie settled on a convenient flat topped low boulder.

  “Blackie’s dead isn’t he?” Anna’s little girl voice vibrated with a tone too old for her tender years.

  “I’m sorry, honey. Grosspape called the vet but there was nothing they could do.” Elsie laid a hand on Anna’s head and stroked her hair.

  “Why wouldn’t they let me see him? Why couldn’t I say goodbye to him?” Tears made her voice ragged. “I needed to say goodbye. He needed me, and I wasn’t there.” The thin shoulders shook.

  “He was hurt badly. It wasn’t something for a child to see.”

  “I don’t care! It was Blackie,.I needed to be with him. I’ll never forgive them for not letting me go to him. He was my dog!” She scrambled to her feet and bunched her hands into fists on her thighs.

  “That’s pretty harsh talk for a little girl, Anna. God says we should forgive.”

  “I don’t care,” she repeated.

  “Why don’t we go back to the house? It’s going to be dark soon,” Elsie urged her, getting to her feet and going to stand beside her granddaughter.

  “Where is he? I want to bury him. Dig a grave and put up a marker with his name on it.” Anna set her chin stubbornly.

  “He was only a dog, Anna. Dogs don’t get grave markers. You know that,” Elsie soothed her.

  “He was a good dog! And he gave his life to save my brother and sister. Blackie deserves a grave. And a marker.” She scuffed a toe in the loose dirt. “He was a good dog,” she repeated.

  Elsie sighed. “Let’s go down to the house and I’ll see what we can do about that.”

  “Honest?” Anna turned shimmering blue eyes up at Elsie.

  “I promise I’ll do what I can. We’ll see what your parents and Grosspape have to say about, okay?”

  “I’m gonna bury him, even if I have to dig the grave by myself.” Anna set off down the back of the low hill, pushing through the underbrush.

  Elsie followed at a slower pace. She had no idea where the dog’s body was at the moment. She could only hope Ike or Walter hadn’t taken care of it already. Or maybe, it would be better if they had? Anna was an odd little one, that was for sure. As unlike her siblings and cousins as a swan was from a duck. She hurried back to the house careful of the twisting roots and rocks underfoot.

  She entered the kitchen slightly out of breath, expecting to find Anna there with the rest of the family. “Did Anna come in yet?”

  “No, didn’t you find her?” Walter pushed his chair back ready to get to his feet.

  “Sit down, Walter. I found her. She came back ahead of me. I was sure she’d be in the house,” Elsie replied.

  “Then where is she?” Agnes got up and peered out the kitchen door.

  “My guess is she went to find Blackie, if she’s not here.” Elsie sighed.

  “Didn’t
you tell her the dog is dead?” Ike demanded. “That’s what you went out there for.”

  “Yes, I told her. We might as well have this conversation now, when she’s not here.”

  “What conversation?” Walter frowned at his mother in law.

  “She wants to give the dog a proper burial.”

  “Out of the question!” Walter exploded.

  “He’s a dog, not a person!” Ike agreed.

  “You know that and I know that, but the child doesn’t see it like that,” Agnes said. “She loved that dog, all the kids did. Doris and Willy cried themselves to sleep tonight. They think it’s all their fault.”

  “Maybe letting them bury the animal will help? Anna is distraught, and one of us should go out and find her before it gets any darker,” Elsie said. She moved toward the hall leading to the front door. “I’ll go get her. I’m pretty sure I know where to find her.”

  * * *

  Elsie sat bolt upright in bed, hand pressed to her thundering heart. A child’s screams echoed through the house. She recognized Willy’s voice, and the softer cries of Doris. “You go back to sleep, Ike. I’ll go see if Agnes needs any help.” She swung her legs out of the bed and pulled on her dressing gown. Feet stuffed into slippers she padded down the hall and poked her head into the children’s room. Agnes was sitting in the old rocker both twins held in her arms.

  “Mome, we’re fine here now. Can you please go check on Anna?”

  “Of course.” Elsie withdrew and continued down the dark hall to Anna’s room. The girl was sitting in a chair she’d pulled up by the window staring down at the barnyard. “Anna, you should be in bed. What are you doing?”

  “Watching Blackie. I don’t want any coyotes or something bothering him. He’s out there all alone.”

  Elsie moved to stand beside her, looking down at the tear tracks glistening on her rounded cheeks in the faint light. “Remember, we pulled the cart into the barn and closed the door? He’ll be all right until morning. You should be in bed. There’s school in the morning.”

  “I’m staying here. Something might get into the barn,” she said stubbornly.

  “Then I’ll stay here with you and watch.” Elsie sat on the end of the single bed near the window. It only took a matter of minutes before the small blonde head bobbed sharply and Anna smothered a yawn. Another ten minutes, and the girl rested her head on her crossed arms and closed her eyes. Elsie waited another few minutes before gathering her up and tucking her into bed. She left the door ajar and peeked into the twin’s room on her way back to bed. They were both snuggled in their beds, and Agnes and Walter’s door was closed. Elsie put her hand up to cover a yawn and went back to her own bed.

  After the older children went off to school, Agnes and Elsie shared a cup of coffee at the kitchen table. A big pail of the last of the Saskatoon berries waited on the counter to made into jam. There was still some late rhubarb to be pulled, but for now it was nice to take a moment to rest after the broken sleep of the night before.

  “What are we going to do about that dog?” Agnes rested her chin in her hand.

  “I’m of a mind to let Anna do what she wants. It might help ease the little one’s minds too.” Elsie stirred sugar into her coffee.

  “I just don’t know if that’s a good idea, Mome.” Agnes frowned.

  “Let’s finish our coffee and get to work on those preserves.” Elsie finished her drink and rose to place the cup in the sink.

  The day passed quicker than Elsie could give credit to. Before she knew it, the children were coming in the door. Tired from school and looking for a snack. Anna come through the door last, school books tucked under her arm.

  “Do you want a snack?” Elsie halted her as she bypassed the kitchen door.

  “No thank you, Oma. I’m going to get started on my homework.” The girl paused with her foot on the bottom riser. “Did you talk to Grosspape about Blackie?” Her voice broke over the dog’s name.

  Elsie’s heart twisted at the forlorn look on her granddaughter’s face and she made a snap decision. Acting on it before she could have second thoughts, Elsie took the books from the girl’s hands and set them on the second step. She took Anna’s hand and with a finger to her lips for silence, the two slipped out the front door.

  “Are you sure about this? Blackie doesn’t look like himself anymore. It might be more upsetting than not doing this.” Elsie cautioned as they crossed the barn yard.

  “He’s still my dog, and his soul is in heaven with God,” Anna stated firmly with all the conviction of childhood.

  “I don’t think dogs go to heaven, Anna.” Elsie wrestled with the need to comfort her granddaughter and to keep in line with the teachings of her religion.

  “Blackie’s in heaven. I know it. I want him to have a grave where I can go and visit him, like you do at the cemetery. You’re always tell me how important it is to remember our ancestors, and to show our respect by keeping the graveyard neat and tidy. I want to do that for Blackie, he saved the twin’s lives. It’s the least I can do for him.” Anna kept walking. Arriving at the barn she slid the door open and stepped inside.

  Shaking her head, Elsie followed. For such a young child, the girl certainly had some strong opinions and strange ideas. Inside the barn, Anna stood by the cart, the burlap thrown over the dog pulled back from his head. Her small hand smoothed the rough hair over his eyes. Her fingers trembled only a little as she struggled to remove the collar from around his neck. Elsie bit her lip to hold back the tears when the blonde head leaned close to the big shaggy head and the girl whispered something to her friend. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Anna straightened up and looked back at her grossmama.

  “How are we going to move him?”

  “Move him where?” Elsie had thought they could give him a place in the soft earth behind the tool shed. It seemed Anna had other ideas.

  “Up the hill, by the stones,” Anna stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  “The hill?” Elsie said faintly.

  “Yes. It’s our special place. Blackie and me. That’s where I want him to be. How are we going to get him there?” The girl was obviously not going to be swayed.

  “It’s not going to be easy, Anna.” She glanced around the dim interior, her gaze landing on a small wagon the men used to haul calves in during calving season. It was only work of a few minutes to drag the conveyance over beside the larger pony cart. “Grab the apron he’s lying on and help me shift him.”

  Between them they moved the animal into the wagon, which thankfully had side rails that fit into slots on the sides. Somehow the forty pound dog seemed to weigh eighty. Elsie’s shoulders ached by the time they were ready to leave the barn.

  “We’ll go out the side door, it’s closer to the path.” Elsie motioned Anna to pull the door open. She took hold of the handle at the front and dragged the wagon toward the open door. Anna closed the door once they were clear and then got behind the wagon to push. By the time they reached the Saskatoon bushes Elsie’s breath whistled in her chest. Every muscle was screaming for rest. Glancing back, Anna’s little cheeks were bright red, the muscles in her forearms straining.

  “Let’s take a break. Do you think we should ask the other children to come with us?” Elsie suggested, thinking how welcome their added strength would be.

  “Not until afterward.” Anna leaned down and put her weight behind the wagon again.

  Gritting her teeth, Elsie put her head down and plunged into the underbrush. Fortunately, the band of bushes was fairly narrow at the point where the path went through. Of course, once through, the trail led uphill.

  When they finally crested the hill, Elsie sank down onto a handy boulder to catch her breath. She surveyed the area on the top of the mound. There wasn’t much choice about where to bury the animal. Bury! We forgot to bring a darn spade. With all the worry about how to move the animal, a means to dig the hole totally escaped her notice.

  “Anna, we forgot to
bring a spade,” she informed the girl.

  “I thought of that already, Oma. I brought one up last night when I came. It’s behind the bushes.” The girl giggled at the expression on Elsie’s face and went to fetch the item from its hiding place behind the thick brush. “I know where I want to dig.” She indicated a spot just over the brow of the hill, on the south-west side. “That’s where he liked to lie when we came up here. “I’ll start.” She stuck the spade into the clay soil and began to excavate the dirt. Once she had a good sized hole started, Anna stopped for a breather.

  “Here, give me that. I’ll take a turn.” Elsie took the spade and sent her granddaughter to sit in the shade. A cool breeze whipped across the prairie, lifting the hair off her neck. It was easier digging into the side of the hill and before long she judged the cavity was deep enough. “What do you think, Anna? Will this do?” She leaned on the handle of the spade.

  Anna got up and came over to inspect it. “I think so, I want to pile some stones on top too. To keep the coyotes and other things away from him.”

  Elsie clambered up out of the pit. “Okay, let’s get Blackie over here and settled.”

  In short order the wagon was trundled over to the waiting hole. Anna insisted in lining the bottom with grasses and wild flowers. Solemnly making a pillow of autumn flowers for his head.

  By the time the dog was safely covered with earth, and a sizable pile of big rocks and small boulders, Elsie was tired. The short October afternoon was waning, shadows lengthening and merging in the fading light. “There, that should keep him safe.” Elsie dropped the spade into the bed of the small wagon.