She called out to Aaron with a rushed shout of glee, taking his hand and raising it to her lips, tears streaming down her cheeks. The gesture caused him to raise his head. He ran his eyes over her face, seemingly unable to understand why she gripped him so tightly. He did not pull his hand away, but neither did he show emotion, just blank surprise. Melba, too, ran her eyes over his face and then down his body where she gasped at the sight of the empty sleeve pinned to his jacket. She dropped his hand, momentarily bringing her fingertips to her mouth in shock, careful to stifle the scream that welled up. What had happened to her beloved son? She looked at the smiling woman at his side with the unspoken question on her face.
“I am Laura McGonigal,” the woman said, brightly. “I have brought your son home.”
Melba nodded, then, taking Aaron’s hand once again, gestured to the woman to walk the buggy to the cottage. When they reached the stairs, Laura stepped down and came to Melba’s side. Together, they helped Aaron to the ground where Melba, still speechless, took him in her arms and hugged him for a long time. He did not respond to her warmth, but he did not pull away.
They sat together in the cottage throughout the afternoon. Laura did most of the talking with Aaron only occasionally looking up as Melba served tea and gradually came to know what happened to her son. The lost arm was obvious, the slight limp less so. The small scar on his forehead was nearly invisible to any but his mother who noticed it instantly. He was very thin and stooped slightly, as if recovering from some shock that had taken his confidence away. The distant look in his eyes frightened Melba most of all.
When she could turn her attention away from her son, she surveyed the pretty woman at his side. She was small boned with a sculpted visage lit by a rosy complexion and ever-present smile. Melba instantly liked her, taking note of her pleasant voice full of optimism and charm. She could tell that Laura was well-educated, self-sufficient and confident. That she sat there with Aaron in the cottage outside Apollo Bay seemed odd. As the pretty girl explained all that had transpired over the previous months, Melba discerned something else that remained unspoken.
She learned that Laura was a nurse, born in England, but now based in Sydney. She cared for Aaron on the hospital ship anchored off Gallipoli where she had been stationed. From Gallipoli, the ship sailed to Egypt where Aaron spent months recuperating from his wounds. Laura ministered to him and many other soldiers at the base hospital. Back in Sydney, she maintained her role as his nurse, admitting to Melba her concern for his re-introduction to Australia given the loss of both his memory and his arm. Laura spoke freely of Aaron’s battle with melancholia, explaining that many returning soldiers suffered from the same malady. He had good days and bad days, she advised. Appearing to anticipate the question in Melba’s thoughts, Laura said she chose to accompany him to Apollo Bay because he had yet to regain his memory. It would be difficult for him to adjust and perhaps unfair to his mother to simply send him home with no aid.
There was something else, Laura said, leaning forward in her chair. Tremors sometimes overtook him without warning. The doctors noted this phenomenon among soldiers who had experienced the most brutal fighting on the peninsula. Little was known about this condition, other than its random occurrence that added risk to the sufferer’s health and sometimes to the safety of those around him. It had not stabilized during his lengthy recuperation, manifesting at anytime as often as weekly.
“When next it comes I will show you what must be done.”
Melba gazed at her son slumped in his chair. He did not speak, but he appeared to be listening. The joy at his return had all but left her as she slowly grappled with the reality of his condition. Pity threatened to overwhelm. How would he be able to return to his former life on the farm? The rigorous work was difficult for an able bodied man. He would be shackled with disadvantage. Tears once again came into her eyes.
As if stirred by the thoughts sifting through his mother’s mind, Aaron raised his head, looking first at Laura then turning to Melba. He smiled weakly at this woman he no longer recognized.
“I am told this is my home. As we came up the rise I even felt some comfort in this place. I have returned because it is the only place for me to go.” This last statement pierced Melba’s heart. She dropped her face into her hands. Her son continued. “I do not wish to make you weep. The doctors say my memory may return. I yearn for that day so I can once again know who I am.”
“You must build a new life with new memories,” Laura responded. “If you will have me, I will stay to help.” Melba wiped her eyes and nodded, knowing she could not endure the time ahead alone.
Over the next year, Aaron struggled to re-assume his role as a farmer. The work was hard, but Melba observed the same patient resolve he’d always shown as a child. He learned new ways to accomplish his tasks one-armed. The limp in his gait eventually disappeared as his leg strengthened. The tremors appeared often and without warning, but Laura made sure she was always close to step in quickly. The able nurse spoke through Melba’s panic, explaining what was happening as she wrapped her arms around Aaron’s shaking body. Sometimes, his trembling became so severe that it took both women to wrestle him down. Laura’s calm always restored order so that over time, Melba grew less frightened. Still, the tremors continued unabated by anything the two women could do.
After the first season Melba re-opened the small market in the village. It lacked the abundance of previous years, but the quality remained. Aaron brought the produce into Apollo Bay each morning by wagon while Laura joined Melba behind the stalls, selling the fruits and vegetables to the villagers and a new group of patrons who appeared in the town. These new men and their families had come to live nearby after the government announced plans to build a road through the mountains and rainforests along the coast from Torquay to Warrnambool. The Great Ocean Road, first proposed in 1864, was a project resurrected fifty-five years later in honor of the Australian soldiers of the Great War. Monies were set aside to finally build the road, thereby giving work to three thousand returned veterans. Its eventual completion would mark the country’s tribute to those who fought and died in service to their country. In this first year of preparation, engineers and surveyors flocked to Apollo Bay where they mapped the route east from Warrnambool. For the Whitehursts and Laura this signaled the beginning of new growth for their modest business.
It became clear that the young couple’s interest in one another was more than medicinal. In the evenings, after darkness overtook the quiet cottage, Melba could hear their low voices shuttered in Aaron’s room. Occasionally, Laura could be heard giggling with an unmistakable joy that Melba herself had known at one time with Nathan. At first, this sign of blooming love disturbed her. She pondered this new woman, fighting with herself over a selfish desire to interfere although she knew her son’s happiness was the only thing of importance. As she reflected, she began to realize that what was happening between Aaron and Laura was inevitable, as natural as the attachment that overwhelmed her when Nathan burst into her life on Nantucket Island. In time, she came to know her real fear, the time had come to let her child go.
She turned her thoughts to the future. Her options seemed limited. She could stay on the farm, remaining the matriarch to the children her son and his wife would eventually produce. She could almost hear the gleeful sound of a child’s voice in the cottage once again. But was it fair to the young couple to be saddled with her when their relationship needed its own space to grow? She could move into the village, perhaps engaging more completely in her business and the growing church. Or, she thought with a tinge of guilt, she could return to Nantucket to aid her mother and father in their final years. The choices were daunting because each one had its own challenge.
The decision was made one day in late summer. As she prepared breakfast in the cottage’s simple kitchen, Aaron, clasping Laura’s hand, came to her and announced their intent to be married. Seeing the joy on their faces, Melba could feel nothing but happiness for t
hem. Laura had proven to be a patient, capable woman of good character. She came to Apollo Bay because she loved Aaron. She treated Melba with respect, careful not to tread on her relationship with her son while ever ready to help with all that needed to be done. Turning from the food she was preparing, she wiped her hands on her apron and took them into her arms with her unspoken approval.
Later that day, a letter arrived from Nantucket. The words, written in her mother’s hand, were not unexpected. Her father had taken to his bed wracked with the pain of cancer that soon would end his life. His spirits plummeted soon after he learned of the death of Melba’s brother. He had little interest in life, her mother wrote, with an anguish Melba had not read in her letters before. It tore at her heart, not because he would die, but because she was not there to be of aid to both of them in their grief. The time to leave Australia had come.
She shared her mother’s letter with Aaron and Laura, explaining that she must return to America. Together, preparations were made, both for the wedding and Melba’s departure soon after. While Laura tended to the wedding details, Melba set about gathering her most cherished possessions, choosing carefully what to take with her and what to leave behind. At times, confusion stymied her decisions because she did not know if she would ever return. Thoughts of a perilous sea journey still filled her with fear despite all that she had been told about the speed and safety of modern ships, so different from the vessel that carried her, sick with child, to Australia.
She also found herself gazing frequently at Aaron, careful not to let him notice. Since his return, he had not regained any memory of the life he once knew. In many ways, his personality was the same as the delightful boy she raised. As he recovered his health his spirits grew brighter and he took on the role of leader, making good decisions and carrying them out with efficiency. She was proud of him, knowing that he had lost none of his virtue despite the hardships he endured. The heartache that accompanied his failure to recognize her had eased. This, she knew, was because of the presence of Laura. The healing power of love had come into the cottage, young romantic love that cast aside the demons of war and, mother/daughter love that soothed sorrow and eased tension. Melba knew she would miss them both, but she drew great contentment, knowing that her son was safely in the arms of a fine woman.
When her trunks were packed, she turned her attention to her most cherished possession, Nathan’s music. It was a part of her since his untimely death, but now it presented a dilemma that pulled at her soul. The magnificent melodies that brought them together and nurtured their love became the last most powerful link that prevented her grief from bringing her to the brink of insanity. When she played each lovely song she saw Nathan’s strong face and felt him at her side. Early on, after she reluctantly accepted that he would never return, she vowed to protect his music forever, never to be lost or forgotten. It had been her intention to bequeath her treasure to Aaron, exacting a deathbed promise that it be safeguarded for future Whitehurst generations.
She sat alone in her room and pulled the string of the oilcloth that wrapped the songbooks. Carefully she slid the leather bound booklets out and placed them on her lap. One by one, she lovingly turned the pages, stopping occasionally to stare at the notes of those that conjured up particularly pleasant memories. Hours passed as she went through this ritual, debating what to do, keep them with her always or leave them behind with Aaron. At last, she placed them back in the cloth and tied the string gently. She would leave them behind, safe from the risk of loss at sea.
With the decision made, she recognized another dilemma, one she could only solve with pen and paper. Aaron had no memory of his father, his songs or the many stories Melba had told him about Nathan as he grew up. Too, she despaired that he would never regain his memory of those things. She could retell them, but there was no time and her son was preoccupied with his impending marriage. No, she realized, there must be a repository left with these songs that told the story of the man who created them. She rose and walked to a small desk nestled in the corner. There, she organized her thoughts and, dipping pen in ink, began to write. Throughout that afternoon and for several days that followed, Melba wrote the story of her husband, falling in love on Nantucket and their collaboration with his music. When she was finished she carefully placed the pages with the songbooks in a metal box at the bottom of the one trunk she was leaving behind. The Whitehurst legacy, she hoped, would be preserved.
***
The wedding between Aaron Whitehurst of Apollo Bay, Victoria, Australia and Laura McGonigal of Preston, Lancashire, England did not manifest as the simple affair the bride and groom planned. The swollen pride that Australia felt for the soldiers who fought at Gallipoli sought every opportunity for expression. The people of Apollo Bay were no exception. Thus, when word surfaced of Aaron’s upcoming marriage to a woman who had also been at Gallipoli, the people of the tiny village and many others from the surrounding area joined the celebration. A parade down Main Street was organized with banners hoisted on lampposts and flags arrayed in windows. A small band played music and marched at the head of a throng of children dressed in gaily decorated costumes, depicting all manner of characters from clowns to toy soldiers. They were followed by elected officials, some of Aaron’s fellow soldiers and decorated vehicles of all types, from tractors to fire engines and even an artillery gun, its barrel safely plugged, but nevertheless chilling in appearance. Little advance notice of this special event was given to the happy couple, so when they arrived in the village they found themselves bewildered as they were guided into the center of the cheering throng marching to the church.
A second tribute centered upon Melba. She was recognized as a humble woman who gave her all to the community of Apollo Bay. When the church bells rang out each Sunday it was Melba who welcomed the parishioners. When families were in need, she was the one they turned to for aid. Melba organized the community, encouraging everyone to contribute what they could. With Melba at the keys, the church organ rang out with such beautiful sound that even the most hardened sailor was compelled to draw near and listen regardless of his belief in God. The market, with her at its center, had long been the gathering place for all and, during those times when some in need could not pay, she slyly handed over her fruits and vegetables with a nod and a smile that conveyed the words “next time’ with special warmth. Learning that her son’s wedding also marked her departure from them, her neighbors would not be prevented from hailing her on this special day.
Thus, though she hurried ahead so she could be at the organ when Aaron and Laura entered the church, her many friends would not let her pass. Instead, they led her into the street where cheers went up and a choir burst into one of her husband’s most joyous melodies. Stunned by the honor, she could not hold back her tears. Several women came to her side as she convulsed in a mixture of joy and sadness, steadying her as she almost fell, unable to control her shaking emotions. Down the street, she saw through a mist of tears, the parade growing closer with the band’s music rising above the cheers and singing all around. Any semblance of self-control left her. She could do nothing, but stand and endure the adulation as she waited.
At last, the young couple arrived, showing equal shock at the overwhelming crowd. Together, they climbed the steps into the church only to find it full to the rafters with men, women and children jammed into every pew and standing in every available spot along the sides and in the stairway leading to the organ above. Melba tried to climb the stairs, seeking passage with a smile at those who stood in her way, but again, her friends would not let her ascend, steering her back toward the altar where Aaron was already positioned, waiting for Laura.
Given the prominent seat in the first pew, Melba waited, unable to comprehend this enormous outpouring of love. Then the organ rang out and Laura made her joyous entrance. Her dress was the traditional white with lace along the bodice and trailing down the full skirt that gently brushed the floor. She carried a bouquet of red roses that added a spa
rk of color, enchanting the glow on her cheeks. From all who turned and watched this beautiful young woman, one word was whispered above the sound of the organ, “stunning”.
Following the ceremony, the bride and groom walked into the sunlight only to be further shocked by the overflow of people standing in the street. A carriage waited at the curb and they hesitantly descended the church steps in its direction, not certain that it was meant for them. Melba followed, now understanding that something special was occurring. The whole community had usurped the small, unassuming wedding they had planned. She began to comprehend this torrent of support as a reflection of the same devotion she felt for her neighbors. It was a happy moment as she took a measure of control, urging Aaron and Laura ahead. When they reached the curb the mayor stepped forward and opened the carriage door. First, he took Laura by the hand, kissed her gently on the cheek and helped her up. Then he turned to Melba and swept her into his arms with an all-enveloping embrace that lingered as the onlookers purred. He helped her up whispering, “We will miss you.” Aaron followed, eager to join his wife and mother as he felt the beginnings of the terrible tremors that plagued his life since Gallipoli.
Laura noticed it right away and as soon as the door to the carriage was shut, took her husband by the shoulders and held him tightly to her. Melba scanned his face to be sure that he would not slip into blackout. Together, the two women watched and waited as the carriage pulled away, taking them where, they did not know. As the horse’s hoofs clip clopped over the cobblestones, both women sighed with relief when Aaron’s trembling passed.
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