As soon as Jim was granted his two-week leave, however, he immediately walked to the Liverpool railway station to purchase a return ticket to South Shields. It was overcast and cold; it had snowed a little the previous day and grey mush covered the road. Jim marched briskly to the station, content to be alone. He avoided eye contact with anyone he passed, unable to tolerate idle conversation with strangers. It began to drizzle as he approached the railway station, so he ran the last few steps.
Jim bounded up the stairs and entered the waiting room. He noticed one booth without a line up and walked over. He curtly requested his ticket to avoid any pointless chatter, and purchased a ride on the first available train going north. He found an empty bench in the waiting room and sat down to wait. Jim glanced around nervously, feeling disconnected from the other passengers. He was emotionally numb and felt like an old man, in spite of the fact that he was still in his thirties.
After a few minutes, one of the conductors called out, “All aboard!” Jim slowly rose from the bench and walked mechanically to the tracks, then got onto the passenger car. He found a seat at the back and sat down beside a window. He looked out at the grey, wet landscape. The weather would not be any warmer or drier in South Shields, but he would soon find the comfort and peace he craved, in his mother’s home. The train slowly pulled away, then picked up speed as it chugged north. Jim closed his eyes and soon fell into his first dreamless sleep in months.
Chapter Fifty-Six
“It looks perfect, Bobby.”
Annie and her eldest son were in the parlour. The new furniture had just been delivered and arranged. Annie put her hands on her hips as she surveyed the bedroom. She admired the white, enamelled iron bedstead and the ash bureau and wardrobe, both stained a rich mahogany colour. The afternoon sun filtered through the white lace curtains and gave the room a warm glow. The walls were painted a subdued yellow and a framed print of an English cottage hung over the bed. A large fern spread out over a wicker stand under the window.
“Now we just have to wait for your Granny to get here.”
The moment she heard Jack come in the front door she called out, “I’m in the parlour.”
He answered, “I picked up the mail, Ma, - there’s a letter from Da.” He walked into the room, whistled in appreciation at his mother’s handiwork, and handed her the mail. Georgie had followed Jack, and he looked at the letter with anticipation.
“Hurry and open it Ma! What does Da say?”
Annie smiled at Georgie and sat down on the bed as she opened the envelope. She quickly read the note.
“Good news, boys. Your Da is sailing on the Celtic on March tenth! He should be in Halifax about a week later. The men from New Ontario are sailing with the Fourth Canadian Rifles from Toronto, so we should be able to track him in the Toronto newspaper. He says he’ll wire us when he arrives in Halifax and again from Toronto when he knows which train he’s taking home.” Annie looked at her sons. “Your father will be here in a week!” She stood up and hugged them. They cheered loudly and their boisterous noise travelled to the upper floor, waking Hal and Henry. Bobby laughed when he heard Henry call out.
“Sorry, Ma. I’ll go bring them downstairs.”
When Bobby carried the two little boys into the newly furnished downstairs bedroom, Hal’s eyes opened wide as he looked around.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous!”
His older brothers laughed at his choice of words, but Annie picked him up and said, “Thank you, Hal. I think it’s gorgeous too.”
The family moved into the kitchen when Annie said their dinner was likely ready. Bobby looked back towards the bedroom.
“I’d better make some kind of door or barrier to keep Spud and the little guys out of there. We want to keep it nice for Gran.”
On March eighteenth, Jack came in the door and announced, “I just picked up my newspapers, Ma, and the station master handed me a telegram for you. It has to be from Da.”
Annie tore open the envelope and read aloud, “Arrived in Halifax stop train arrives in Toronto tomorrow stop love Jim.” She turned excitedly to Jack. “Oh, thank God. Your father’s in Canada! He’ll be home very soon! Jack, you must get me a copy of the newspaper tomorrow as soon as they’re delivered to the station. They’ll likely write about the Celtic arriving because most of the men are from Toronto.”
She found herself wandering aimlessly around the house all day, and silently cursed the delay in getting the news from Toronto. When Jack finally handed her the newspaper, Annie immediately sat down at the kitchen table to read it. The paper reported that the Celtic had docked in Halifax and it was expected that the eighteen hundred troops would reach Union Station on the evening of March nineteenth. Toronto was planning events to welcome the men home. Annie was overjoyed when she saw that the newspaper had published the names of all the men who sailed on the Celtic. She ran her finger down the list and stopped when she came to James Kidd, Bear Falls.
“Look, boys! Your father’s name is printed right here in the paper! It says the troops will arrive in Toronto at about eight o’clock tonight.” She expected he wouldn’t get home for another day or two because of demobilization paperwork.. “Oh, I wish we could be at Union Station to meet the train. He said he’d wire us when he knows when his train will get to Jackpine Junction.”
The boys all crowded around the paper. Henry cried, “Me too!” Annie picked him up and showed him where it read James Kidd.
Two days later, Annie was just clearing the breakfast table when Jack burst through the front door and shouted. “The wire is here, Ma!”
Annie dried her hands on her apron and took the envelope from Jack. She quickly tore it open. She took out the single sheet of paper and read out loud, “Arriving today Jackpine Junction 8:00 p.m. stop See you tonight stop love Jim.”
Annie’s heart started beating rapidly and she felt weak; she sank to a chair and reread the message to herself. Jack and Georgie hopped around the kitchen in excitement, making a great ruckus; Hal and Henry joined in.
They spent the day tidying the house, and Annie prepared Jim’s favourite meal of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, with apple pie for dessert. The boys all had baths and put on clean clothes. Annie gave the boys a snack since they would be having a late dinner, then searched through cupboards and drawers until she finally found her last bar of lilac soap.
“I’ll be in the bathroom. Don’t disturb me unless the house is on fire or there’s blood and broken bones!”
She indulged herself and had a long bath. When she finally emerged, she sat in front of the kitchen stove to dry her hair. Henry climbed up onto her lap and lay his head against her chest. “You smell nice, Mummy.” Annie cuddled her youngest child and kissed the top of his head.
At seven-thirty, they bundled up in layers of winter clothing and left the house. It was a clear, cold evening and the night sky sparkled with starlight. Bobby had borrowed a neighbour’s horse and sleigh and was waiting outside for them. Annie handed Henry up to Bobby, and helped Hal climb up. The two little boys snuggled between Annie and Bobby, while Jack and Georgie settled in the back.
Bobby flicked the reins and the horse jolted the sleigh and trotted down the road. The horse had bells attached to his harness. Annie thought the joyful jingle seemed appropriate for their happy excursion, as they travelled the road to Jackpine Junction.
Hal looked up at the stars and cried, “Oh! Oh!” Then Henry looked up and repeated, “Oh! Oh!”
“What is it, boys?” Annie asked.
“The little stars are peeping to see if we are sleeping!” Hal cried.
Henry climbed onto his mother’s lap, closed his eyes and put his thumb in his mouth. Annie’s smiled as she thought of the lullaby Jim first sang to Maggie. Jim had never had a chance to sing it to Henry, but she had made a point of singing it to her youngest sons each evening.
“Don’t worry, poppet. The stars know this is a special night for us.”
The horse guided them to the stat
ion and stopped out front. Bobby stepped down to cover thehorse’s back with a blanket to keep it warm while they waited for the train. Jack and Georgie jumped off the sleigh and Annie helped Hal and Henry down. The light from the station windows spilled over the snow and light standards illuminated the tracks. Annie took Hal and Henry inside the station and sat them on a bench. There was a warm wood fire burning in a large stove in the waiting room. Several other families were chattering excitedly while they waited for the train to arrive. Annie loosened the children’s coats and removed their hats and scarves. She glanced up at the large clock on the wall.
“Your Da will be here in ten minutes, boys. That’s not a long time to wait at all. You can look out the window that way and you’ll see a big light when the train comes.”
Hal and Henry squealed when they first spotted the headlight of the train engine. Annie buttoned up their coats and put on their hats, scarves and mittens, and they all walked out to the platform. “Wait beside Bobby,” she told Jack and Georgie. “and be sure to hold Hal’s and Henry’s hands tightly!”
The evening air was crisp when the train pulled into the junction and hissed to a stop. A cloud of condensation shrouded the tracks.
Inside the second car, Jim picked up his bag and put on his new hat. The passenger beside him looked out the window and said, “March twenty-first is the spring equinox, but apparently we’re still in deep winter in here.”
Jim nodded. “It does look like the dead of winter, but I feel warm inside. I’m home at last.”
He was wearing the new wool suit and winter coat that he had just purchased in Toronto with his thirty-five dollar clothing allowance from the army. He patted the breast pocket that held his back-pay bonus, and followed two other passengers out the door and down the steps to the platform.
There were five or six passengers getting off the train at Jackpine Junction and Annie eagerly watched as the men stepped off the steps of the passenger car. At first she didn’t recognize her husband. He was wearing a long, smart, wool coat and a bowler hat. He looked quite the gentleman, she thought, and gasped when the wind blew his hat off of his head. His thick hair was snow white.
She called out his name and he looked in her direction. He answered huskily, “Annie!”
She ran into his embrace and kissed him, then looked deeply into those familiar blue eyes. She brushed away his tears and her own.
“Welcome home, Jim. It’s been a long two and a half years.”
Jim kissed her again and held her tightly against him before he said, “It’s been a hell of a long way back to Bear Falls.”
He looked over Annie’s shoulder and asked in a rough voice, “Where are the bairns?”
Annie took Jim’s hand and leaned into him as they walked off the platform towards their boys.
Bobby led his brothers to their father. Jim stopped and gasped, “My God Bobby, you’ve grown into a man. Come here, son.”
Bobby’s face lit up and he gave his father a bear hug. Jack and Georgie followed and put their arms around Jim. Hal and Henry shyly stayed behind and held hands.
Jim knelt down to look into their little faces.
“Do you not remember your own father, boys?”
Hal and Henry both stepped away from him and Annie saw the hurt register on Jim’s face. She suggested to their two youngest sons, “Why not shake hands with Daddy?” They allowed Jim to take their small hands in his.
As the family walked towards the horse and sleigh, Annie laughed suddenly, “Look up, Jim.”
There, in the evening sky, a shimmering curtain of light swirled and tumbled. Jim looked up at the ribbons of green, pink and violet, and whispered, “My God! How could I have forgotten such a grand sight?”
He wrapped his arms around Annie and held her close, proudly looking around at his boys.
“I’m a lucky man. I’m finally home.”
Annie shared the bench on the sleigh with Bobby and Jim; she felt surrounded by love as her husband affectionately pulled her closer to him. Their eldest son steered the horse homeward while the two youngest boys sat in back, cuddled between Jack and Georgie. She glanced up at the Northern Lights dancing in the evening sky and thought of Maggie. She silently included her little girl in their family reunion.
My life has changed incredibly since that horrifying bushfire, especially with Jim away at war for so long. They had lost everything in the flames, except their lives, and Annie thanked God every day that they had been spared the loss of another child. It had been a challenging time, managing alone with five children, and worrying about Jim. But, I’ve become a stronger, more independent woman because of all that.
Annie was impatient to get home and show Jim all she had accomplished in their new home. He would only remember the unheated shell from years ago, she thought. She anticipated his reactions, even though she had described each new purchase in her many letters to him. She could barely wait until he actually saw the electric lights that were wired throughout the house, the new bathroom with its large, hot water tank, and the bedroom set up for Mother, who would be arriving in just three months. She had left the light on in the kitchen and knew the room was warm and inviting, filled with the aroma of the roast beef, Yorkshire pudding and apple pie, waiting to welcome them home.
She devoured Jim with her eyes. Her heart was full of happiness. He’s home! Owning a house is not the most important thing after all. Home is where we’re all together and finally, we really are! It was going to take her a little time to get used to Jim’s white hair, but he came back to her whole, unlike so many other men. She worried about the tremor in his hands and wondered how difficult it was going to be for him to readjust to a normal home life, after witnessing all that carnage in the battlefields. Perhaps it would be difficult for her at first, too. Yes, she thought, I’m a different person now as well, but we have all of our tomorrows together. May we be blessed with many tomorrows.
Author’s Notes
Northern Ontario or “New Ontario” was developed through the hard work of countless politicians, financiers, engineers, prospectors, miners and labourers. The North was already rich in native culture and natural beauty before these men arrived. They discovered and exploited the precious metals and natural resources in the boreal forests, and created “New Ontario”. My main character is a woman who, along with other wives, sisters and mothers, helped give “New Ontario” a soul. I wanted to put flesh on the bones of those early pioneers and let them live again. I have changed the names of towns and created characters because my novel is not a documentation of statistics, facts or numbers, but a human story.
I found several books that helped me in my research. An invaluable community-formation study of Northeastern Ontario is Changing Places by Kerry M. Abel. Killer in the Bush: The Great Fires of Northeastern Ontario by Michael Barnes is a fascinating history of the many huge bushfires that occurred in the same time frame as my novel. Tim Cook’s historical book, Shock Troops, gives insight to the horrific WW1 experiences of many men, some from New Ontario. An interesting memoir of life in Northeastern Ontario in its early years is Northern Doctor by C.H. Smylie M.D. and several of the colourful anecdotes that I have included in my story were found in The Broke Hustler and the Pulp and Paper Magazine archives. Most interesting are oral histories from first-hand experiences; my uncle, Charles Johnson, often entertained his children, nieces and nephews with his colourful memories of life as it was when north-eastern Ontario was known as New Ontario.
Jim’s lullaby was handed down from generation to generation in my family. I discovered that it is a common lullaby in north-eastern England and along the Scottish borders, but it appears that the section familiar to me originates from a song written by Lucine Finch in 1899, “Here Comes the Sandman.”
“Come You Not From Newcastle” was a poem written by Bishop Thomas Percy in 1868, set to music by John Pyke Hullah in 1884, and published in Hullah’s Song Book.
There are several people who guided me and advis
ed me while writing and editing this story. Thank you to Karen Connelly and the Humber School for Writers, Alison Latta, and a special thank you to Jess Shulman.
Home Fires Page 25