Home Fires

by Susan Cameron

  Lars Nilsen arrived at Annie’s door, two weeks later, as arranged. He was a handsome young man in spite of the cloudy eye. He had thick, light brown hair and was as tall as her brothers.

  After a few words, she unconsciously switched to speaking in Norwegian. She was surprised how easily the language came back to her. She had invited Lars to stay for dinner and she planned to prepare a few of her mother’s Norwegian recipes. Over the afternoon, she told him the whole story of what had happened to her mother and of her own plans to bring her mother home to care for her.

  “I think it should be simple enough to locate your mother. I have an uncle who’s a lawyer in Bergen. He’ll know which authorities we would need to contact.”

  While Annie finished her preparations for dinner, the young man composed the letter at the kitchen table. Annie was pleasantly surprised that her boys were quiet and shy in the company of a stranger and careful in their table manners. After dinner, Lars thanked Annie for a lovely meal and promised to mail the letter the next day.

  “I’m sorry that I cannot pay you, but I’m happy to cook dinner for you anytime.”

  “A good meal is priceless, most especially good Norwegian fare. I’ll contact you when I receive any information about your mother. Thank you, Annie, and I wish you and your children a good night.”

  After the younger boys were in bed, Bobby joined his mother at the table. Bobby was old enough to remember his grandmother fondly and he looked forward to seeing her again.

  “I can help you convert the parlour into a bedroom for Granny Larsen. I’ll buy a new bed for her, with my savings.”

  “What a grand idea, Bobby.” The parlour would be perfect; Annie’s mother wouldn’t have to climb any stairs. “There’s no need to spend any of your savings, though, son. Your uncles will help us with expenses when we bring your grandmother here.”

  After Bobby went upstairs to bed, Annie wrote a long letter to Jim to tell him of the events of the day and her plans for her mother. She knew it could take several months to find her and arrange for her travel. It might even take years if the war continued. It was disheartening to imagine the war lasting another year or longer. Her dearest wish would be to have Jim back home with her again and to bring her mother over, too.

  Miraculously, within two months, Lars Nilsen had located Annie’s mother. In June, Annie received a letter from her, scribed in unfamiliar handwriting. She was almost blind now, so had dictated a letter to Lars’s contact in Bergen. Annie read it with anticipation.

  My dearest daughter Annie,

  I could not possibly be happier. I can hardly believe that you found me. A lawyer named Jen Nilsen located me here and arranged for a lovely young woman to write this letter for me. I’m afraid that I can barely see but otherwise am in good health. How lucky I am to have a daughter who wants me to live with her. I realize that travel is impossible until the end of the war, but I have waited this long, and can wait a bit longer.

  Annie, life has been hard these last few years. When I could not pay for my room in South Shields, they sent me to the poor house. It was humiliating. My pearl necklace was stolen there. I suspect the matron. That necklace was to be your inheritance and now it’s gone. It was our connection to your Pappa and I’m so sorry that I can’t give it to you.

  They soon discovered that I was born in Norway and they promptly deported me, so here I am.

  Well, I will look to the future now. I am anxious to see my grandsons. Does Georgie still look like our George? And I have several new grandchildren to meet! Tell Hal and Henry that their Granny loves them. I am looking forward to seeing Alfie’s little girl, Anna, too. How rich I am, with all my grandchildren! God willing, I will see you all again soon.

  Love from Mother

  Annie was angry over the loss of the pearl necklace; her mother had received so much comfort wearing it. It added insult to injury that the mother of a lost British soldier could be robbed and deported. Annie froze. Oh my God, Mother doesn’t know about George. How she wished that she could be with her mother now.

  When Annie sat down to write, she decided not to tell her about George yet. It would be kinder to tell her in person. She was conscious that a stranger would have to read her letter to her mother, so at first, she was cautious in her words. Then she remembered that beautiful letter from Jim, when he wrote from his heart, not caring what a censor might read.

  Dear Mother,

  I am ecstatic that I have found you at last. I have made such wonderful plans for you when you come. I will have a bedroom set up for you downstairs and will do everything in my power to make up for all your troubles. Your wee Bobby is a grown working man now. He has a good job in the paper mill and I imagine that Jack will soon want to work there too. I am enclosing two photos for you. The one of Jim and me was taken in Toronto just before Jim went overseas. The picture of our five boys was taken quite recently. I’m sure that you will see a huge change in Bobby, Jack and Georgie.

  Jim is fighting in Belgium now. It has been lonely without him and I’m sorry that he’s missing Henry’s babyhood. Our youngest child was just two months old when Jim left for the army. Bobby is very eager to have you with us, and I often overhear Jack and Georgie telling their little brothers about you.

  I have missed you so much since we moved to Canada and will count the days until we see each other again. I have given your address to Alfie so you will be receiving a letter from him soon. Stay well, Mother. The boys and I send you our love.

  Annie

  The next time Lars visited Annie, he stayed again for a special Norwegian dinner that Annie had prepared. She thanked him again and again for finding her mother. After their meal, she declared, “I’m so happy, Lars. We should have a celebration!”

  In the top corner of a cupboard Annie had a small bottle of single-malt scotch that Alfie had sent up for Jim, months ago. She brought a chair over to the cupboard and reached up to get the bottle. The boys had retired upstairs, even Bobby, likely bored from the Norwegian conversations that he did not understand. Hal and Henry had been asleep for an hour and Lars had stayed on and entertained Annie with stories about Norway.

  As she handed him a glass of the amber liquid, she asked, “Did you ever see the Northern Lights in Norway? Are they the same as what we see here in the North?”

  “Oh yes, they are just as beautiful. My parents always said they were reflections from Valkyries’ armour.”

  Annie smiled, and took a sip of scotch. “Oh!” She coughed and then laughed in embarrassment as her eyes watered. “I suppose single-malt scotch is an acquired taste!” She put the glass down on the table. “Those are the same stories I grew up with, but I never saw the Northern Lights until I came here.”

  It was so wonderful to be in the company of another adult. They chatted late into the night, and then Lars said he’d better leave before the cousin he was staying with gave up on him and locked the door. Before he left, Lars thanked Annie for the lovely meal and company, and then he leaned down and kissed her.

  Annie blushed and quickly said good night, closing the door after him. Whatever will the neighbours think? Lars was very nice, but she hoped he didn’t think she had been inviting that kiss. She didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. Without his help, though, she wouldn’t be looking forward to having her mother with her again.

  She decided that the next time he visited, she’d keep Bobby in the room and they’d speak in English.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Annie placed the newspaper on the kitchen table and sat down. The afternoon sunshine streamed into the room and a warm, June breeze drifted in through the open window. She had spent a pleasant day planting her garden while Henry and Hal played in a sand pile in the yard. Both little boys were now sound asleep upstairs, tuckered out after their games in the fresh air. Annie had just a half-hour to browse through the paper, before Jack and Georgie returned from school.

  She read on the front page that conscripted men were bringing the Cana
dians to full fighting force again. The Americans had finally joined the Allies. It was predicted that the war would end soon but Annie was skeptical of such opinions; an early end to the war had been assumed erroneously many times before. She folded the paper, stood up and looked around the kitchen. Her bread looked ready to bake, so she picked up the pans from the counter. Just as she placed her loaves in the oven, she was startled by the front door suddenly opening.

  “You’re home early, son!” she said to Bobby.

  Bobby put his lunch pail on the counter and hung up his cap. “I don’t feel well, Ma, so the boss sent me home early. I have a vicious headache. I’m just going to lie down for a while.. Don’t bother to wake me for dinner.” He handed his mother two letters. “I stopped by the post office.”

  Annie put her hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up! Go on upstairs and try to rest. I’ll catch Hal and Henry when they wake up from their nap, so they won’t bother you.”

  She watched him slowly climb the stairs. Bobby was seventeen years old now and taller than his father. He had a muscular build; his thick hair had darkened to a deep brown but his blue eyes were still the same shade as Jim’s. She watched him go. In his illness he appeared more boy than man again.

  Annie looked down at the letters in her hand. One thin envelope was from Gold Creek and there was a thick letter from Jim. She saw that the mail from Jim was in one of his special green envelopes, so she knew that it was likely uncensored and more personal. She’d save that as a special treat to enjoy later in the evening.

  Annie sat down at the kitchen table and opened the thin envelope. It was a short note from Lars Nilsen. She had not heard from him for several weeks, but was relieved that he had written instead of visiting. She knew that she would feel quite uncomfortable in his company after their last meeting.

  Dear Mrs. Kidd - Annie, if I may be so bold,

  I write this note with my most sincere apologies for my behaviour when I last left your home. I can only say that the alcohol must have impaired my judgment. I would never want to offend you and will not trouble you again with my presence. I do wish to continue to work to bring your mother to Canada. I did not write earlier as I have been very ill with influenza and am presently at home with a bout of pneumonia. I will contact authorities in Bergen for information on immigration to Canada and notify you by mail of any new developments.

  Humbly,

  Lars Nilsen

  Annie’s face grew warm as she remembered her last meeting with Lars. She crushed the note and put it in the stove fire. She did not blame the poor man entirely but was relieved that she would not see him again in the near future. She sincerely regretted her judgment in offering him a glass of scotch.

  Hearing Hal call out from upstairs, she put Jim’s precious green envelope on a shelf and hurried upstairs, not wanting the little boys to disturb Bobby.

  Jack and Georgie were in the kitchen when she came back down. Jack helped himself to a large slice of cheese, then announced that he was going to deliver the newspapers and left as quickly as he had arrived.

  Annie asked Georgie to watch Hal and Henry while she went back upstairs to check on Bobby.

  Georgie looked at her in confusion. “Why’s he home now?”

  “He came home from work early. He’s got a fever and a headache.”

  Georgie nodded, then he sat on the floor to play with the younger ones. Annie watched her two towheaded boys giggle and tackle their patient big brother.

  “Hal and Henry! Play quietly! Bobby is sick and trying to sleep.”

  Annie didn’t have time to read Jim’s letter until after nine o’clock that evening. The boys were sleeping soundly by then, and the house was quiet. Bobby had slept through dinner. Though he seemed to be fevered whenever she checked him, she knew sleep would be healing. She had been looking forward to reading Jim’s note and treasured this quiet time for herself. Sitting in her rocking chair by the kitchen fire, she removed the pages from the green envelope.

  Dearest Annie,

  I hope this letter finds you and the children well. It is hard to believe that I’ve been overseas for such a long time. It saddens me that I have missed our Henry’s babyhood. I thought of him on his birthday and was shocked when I realized that he’s two years old now. Poor lad doesn’t even know his Da.

  Thank you for the photo of our five boys. I hardly recognize them, they have grown so. I can’t imagine that Hal is a four-year-old now. I remember that we thought that maybe the only job for him when he grew up would be a jockey. He was so tiny. I guess we won’t need to arrange riding lessons for him after all! Imagine our Bobby a working man now. Jack looks like a twin to Bobby and Georgie looks more Larsen than Kidd. He’ll soon be taller than his brothers. You’ve done a grand job raising our boys, Annie.

  I assure you that I am well. I wouldn’t have believed it myself, after my leave earlier in the year, but my nerves are a lot steadier. I didn’t think that I could face the front again after having two weeks leave in England. We have been training very hard this last month; however we do have time for some sports and rest. I had my first bath in two months and boy did that feel good!

  We are training for something and I suppose they will let us know when the time comes. Some of the blokes, who have been here since the beginning of the war, give the new conscripts a hard time, but we are all glad to be at full strength once again. The worst part of the training exercises is that we have to wear our gas masks at all times. It’s hard to see with them on and you can’t help but sweat under all that rubber.

  I’m in good spirits, though. One day when the big-wigs were here, I saw our ace pilot Billy Bishop demonstrate his flying stunts. I don’t know what keeps him in the air. He was flying upside down and making figure eights. The RAF patrolled the skies during the display to protect us (more likely protecting the brass) from any possible enemy planes and bombs. What a grand show.

  Annie, I can write you at present about what I’ve experienced these past few months, now that I’ve survived with my body intact. If anything has been blacked out then you know that my green envelope caught the censor in England. The German offensive was very strong when I returned to the front after my leave. They were aiming to defeat us before the Americans came in force. Nearly everyone had bronchitis then, including me (don’t worry, I’m in good health now).

  The weather is quite cold because of the wind and the dampness everywhere. I’d much prefer the dry cold of a New Ontario winter. You’re always wet here in the winter months and it makes for miserable conditions. We dug hundreds of miles of trenches and laid miles of barbed wire to fortify our defences. Gas is used in every battle on both sides, but the Germans are sending over a nasty one. This mustard gas stays in low areas for days and blisters any of our exposed skin. It is yellowish brown and has a sharp mustard smell. I saw men with massive blisters filled with yellow fluid. Our respirators protect our faces and lungs, but the gas settles on any exposed skin and soaks into our clothes. It remains for weeks in the snow and frozen mud, and then vaporizes when the sun comes up. We lost many men who died in agony after exposure to this gas. I did get gassed, but was able to remove my clothes soon enough and wash off with a pail of water. Luckily for me, my blisters were not severe, compared to what some other poor blokes suffered. One fellow I knew quite well jumped into a shell crater to seek cover from fire. He didn’t have his respirator on. Mustard gas had settled in that hole and he was blinded. His lungs bled and he died a few days later. I no longer know how many of my mates have died here. I’ve lost count. The only good thing about the gas is that it has exterminated many of the trench rats. I tell you all this Annie, after the fact, and to reassure you that I am fine and in much improved spirits since March.

  Annie’s reading was interrupted when she heard a shout. She put Jim’s letter on a shelf to finish reading later, then she climbed the stairs to Bobby’s and Jack’s bedroom. Bobby was tossing and turning and his face was wet with perspiration. Annie placed her
hand on his forehead; he was burning up. She hushed him like a baby until he calmed down and she remained beside his bed for most of the night. At times he coughed so continuously that she had to help him sit up for relief.

  In the morning, Bobby was still suffering with a high fever and persistent cough. As soon as Jack was awake, Annie sent him to find the doctor. Before she made breakfast, she and Georgie carried her mattress down the stairs to set up a bed for Bobby in the empty dining room. By the time she had the bed made up, and bowls of breakfast porridge set on the kitchen table, Jack had returned.

  “The doctor will stop by after his hospital rounds, probably by eleven this morning.”

  “Thank you, son. Come help me bring Bobby downstairs.”

  They climbed the stairs to Bobby’s bedroom and helped him out of bed and onto his feet. They supported him as he weakly managed the steps down. By the time they got him to the dining room, he was coughing profusely and he collapsed on the mattress.

  “I’ll bring you some tea, Bobby. The doctor’s coming later this morning and hopefully he will give you some medication.” She affectionately laid her hand on his cheek, then covered him with a light blanket.

  “It looks like a lovely day outside,” she said to Jack and Georgie. “Take Hal and Henry out to play, after you finish your breakfast, and try not to be too noisy. I don’t want you boys to bother Bobby.”

  When the doctor arrived, Annie took him to her improvised sick-room. Dr. Miller was in his seventies, barrel-chested and brusque, but he had the reputation of being trustworthy and competent. After looking in Bobby’s throat and pressing his fingers to his neck he placed a thermometer in his mouth, then listened to his chest.