by Fred Allen
Toronto, Boston and various New Brunswick cities. In addition to their Golden Wedding Anniversary, they were being honored for their long service to New Brunswick’s Jewish communities. The new Cadillac had been presented to them as a mark of gratitude from family and friends.
Chapter II
ROBERT WALTER MARSHALL (Robbie)
Robbie was deep in thought during the drive from Quebec City. He sat hunched down in the back seat of the station wagon.’Wee Willie’ was strapped securely in his car seat beside him and, as usual, slept soundly from the time of the exchange of good-byes and wet kisses for his maternal grandparents in Quebec City. Being deep in thought was not that unusual for Robbie in recent times. “Robbie appears to be withdrawn and pre-occupied” were the comments of his Grade VIII teacher. These comments were regarded as a bit unusual by his Grade VII teacher who remembered him as a highly intelligent, outgoing and active pre-teen who was always involved in any class activities.
Through half closed eyes Robbie watched the countryside as the car traveled smoothly over the snow clad highway. Visibility was decreasing as the wind increased and occasional whiteouts slowed the car and brought softly uttered epithets from his father. His mother appeared to be dozing in the front seat having delegated responsibility for Wee Willie to Robbie and his sister Sandy who sat in the rear seat on the other side of Wee Willie. From his very early days the care of Wee Willie became increasingly the responsibility of his brother and sister as his mother’s interest appeared to drop off rather quickly after the initial wave of enthusiasm at his birth. His father always showed interest but he was constantly on the road either with the Lieutenant-Governor or attending veterans’ gatherings or Armed Forces conferences at which a war hero was always in demand.
Caring for Wee Willie didn’t bother either Robbie or Sandy that much. He was really a wonderful baby, very good natured and affectionate, a very quick learner who constantly surprised them with the new words and tricks that he loved to demonstrate in what he called “callity time” not having mastered the word “quality” which his father used quite often in family discussions.
Robbie’s preoccupation was focussed on the family. Something had happened during the week they had spent with their grandparents to increase Robbie’s concern about the direction of family relationships. This was nothing new. For months-perhaps even years-things just didn’t seem the same. The cheerful family sessions-what Wee Willie referred to as “callity” time had become increasingly rare. Periods when his father was at home produced constant bickering between his father and mother and the muffled sounds of heated argument coming from their room nearly every night.
Then there were the new friends his mother had, both men and women, who came to the house nearly always when his father was away. There seemed to be a lot of parties and his mother was drinking more than he could remember and resulting in either he or Sandy having the responsibility for Wee Willie in the mornings when his mother had one of her headaches or, on occasion, had not come home.
He blamed his mother’s friend Anita for most of these problems. Anita was the widow of an old army friend of his father who had been severely wounded in
Korea and subsequently died of his wounds. Anita was also from Quebec City and she and his mother had been schoolmates there. Anita appeared to have a very active social life in which his mother had become involved. This development appeared to be a principal source of the increasing friction between his father and mother judging from some of the comments that could be occasionally heard from his parents’ room during the near nightly arguments.
Anita had also had something to do with the change that had come over his sister Sandy. Anita had two young children and, until recently, Sandy had been her regular babysitter. Then something had happened and Sandy was no longer her babysitter and Robbie had been pressed into service. He wasn’t that fussy about babysitting; he thought of it as a girl’s job but the money came in handy. Anita appeared to be very popular with men and most of them were young university students. At age 12-nearly 13-Robbie’s schoolyard and after school education was entering the accelerated progress of the “near teen” phase and his assessment of the situation approached conclusions that were reasonably realistic and substantially correct. This gradually maturing understanding of such relationships was the basis of increasing concern when he found his mother coming back to Anita’s house from other parties in groups that nearly always included equal numbers of men and women. He was always sent home when Anita returned and he would try and stay awake until he heard his mother come in but usually fell asleep before hearing her entrance. On at least two occasions his mother hadn’t come home announcing she had stayed over at Anita’s to help her with the kids.
On one occasion he thought he recognized an old friend of his mother’s from Quebec City while he was babysitting at Anita’s and when he had asked his mother who it was the following day his mother had really exploded and struck him sharply across the face. He had been stunned by her reaction because he could not remember her having hit him before. She told him that it was none of his business and that if he told his father he would be in real trouble. Keeping secrets from his father really bothered Robbie. He and his father had always been very close and Robbie thought that withholding information amounted to disloyalty and loyalty was a characteristic that his father valued above nearly all others.
Something had happened during the week they had spent with their grandparents in Quebec City. In fact, a number of things had happened that Robbie just didn’t understand. Robbie had always enjoyed these visits and especially the time he spent with his grandfather, Walter Ross. Fluently bilingual after his family’s three generations in Quebec City, Walter Ross had all the qualities and interests that would appeal to a grandson. Despite the loss of part of a leg on the beaches in Normandy, and advancing years, he was an avid and active outdoorsman. He knew all the best fishing streams and lakes and visited them all even the least accessible. He loved camping and while not a hunter he practiced what he called “photo hunting” in which he used a specially engraved lens on his camera that resembled the sights of a rifle. He was very proud of his collection of “could have been” trophies which were merely photographs of animals which showed the rifle sights, etched on his camera lens, fixed on a vital part of the animal’s anatomy. “Bloodless hunting” he called it and explained he had lost all interest in shooting at living things during five unforgettable days on the beaches in Normandy.
Walter was also his father’s favorite because he found Jeanette, Robbie’s grandmother, too easily impressed by names and too eager to gain acceptance in local social circles. In the early days of her daughter’s marriage to a war hero, Jeanette, had used the relationship to full advantage during the family’s visits to Quebec City. “Upwardly mobile, social climber” was how his father referred to his mother-in-law. As his mother-in-law became increasingly immersed in predominantly French-Canadian social circles, the war hero connection decreased in importance and Robbie’s father was pleased to find that “command performances” were few and far between.
Robbie’s grandfather took little interest in his wife’s social aspirations. His whimsical philosophy was “live and let live” but maintained his independence with comments such as “she’s got me right where I want her” or “one word from her and I do what I like” always accompanied by a knowing wink to Robbie.
All in all his grandparents got along very well although his grandmother was never quite certain as to whether her husband took her as seriously as she would like. Two years ago Robbie found that her fears were far from groundless when his grandfather took him into his confidence by sharing what he referred to as “the big secret”. Sharing “big secrets” is a potent bonding device between a grandson and his grandfather. One day, two years ago, when his grandfather was showing Robbie his album of “Photo Hunt” trophies, he swore Robbie to secrecy with their secret hand s
hake-known only to them-and opened a locked secret compartment in the back of the album and took out a photo. After again swearing Robbie to secrecy, he turned the photo over and Robbie saw a picture of his grandmother with the sight cross hairs perfectly covering her mouth.
For many years Robbie and Sandy had spent summers, Christmas holidays and March school breaks with their grandparents. This had ended when Wee Willie was born and their mother decided she needed their help at home to look after the new baby.
Things had been very different during this visit. Only his grandfather seemed the same but even he was preoccupied with the new puppy he was training. His grandfather was still mourning the passing of Nelson, a Newfoundland dog which he had raised from a pup and had been a family, and even neighborhood, fixture for nearly eighteen years. Nelson and Robbie had become great friends over the years and Robbie had been constantly impressed by the gentle strength and intelligence of the big dog. He had been actually in tears when his grandfather wrote to him telling of Nelson’s passing.
The new dog, also a Newfoundland, had been named Churchill over the protests of Robbie’s grandmother who was convinced her husband’s selection of such obviously English names was a thinly veiled attempt to assert his British ancestry for the benefit of Francophone neighbors. While a proud third generation Quebecer, Walter Ross was very proud of his British roots and also very proud of his war hero son-in-law.
His grandfather was so engrossed in the training of his new dog, Robbie had a lot of time on his hands and much of this was devoted to observing the activities of other members of the family.
Robbie noted that his mother and Sandy were out together many times. This was a bit unusual because they had not been very close in recent years. Any interest Robbie expressed in accompanying them was discouraged with comments such as “shopping” or “girl stuff”. Besides, Robbie was expected to stay close to Wee Willie because his grandmother constantly reminded them that her babysitting days were behind her. Sandy was in the next room to Robbie and the rooms were separated by a very flimsy partition and all sounds were clearly audible from one room to the next. Sandy appeared to be very unhappy about something and her soft sobs could be heard and often late at night when the household was asleep. Robbie was tempted to approach Sandy for an explanation but was discouraged on each attempt by Sandy’s quite obvious intention to keep him at a distance. This saddened Robbie because, at least until the past few years, he and Sandy had been pretty good pals and closer than most brothers and sisters at their ages. All this appeared to have changed when Sandy entered high school and as a very active and pretty teenager quite naturally acquired a new circle of friends represented by, as she explained to Robbie, “older and more mature” young people.
Sandy and her mother had been out for most of the day prior to their departure and had not returned until quite late in the evening. Their father had arrived from Montreal and Robbie had helped load the wagon so they would be ready for an early departure in the morning. On this night the sobbing from Sandy’s room continued for what must have been several hours. In fact, Robbie fell asleep only to be awakened by the sounds from his sister’s room. On a trip to the bathroom, Robbie also became aware of other sounds from his parents’ room. The sound was a combination of his father’s muffled voice and his mother’s sobbing interrupted occasionally by her sharp retorts which sounded like “What could I do?” and “If you would only stay home more”.
Robbie stood inside the bathroom with the door ajar for about ten minutes while the sounds from his parent’s room continued unabated. Obviously his mother and father were very unhappy about something. The pitch of his father’s voice was low but, while Robbie could not pick out enough words to identify the problem or problems, there was absolutely no doubt that his father was highly displeased by something and his mother’s tearful response was not unusual. Arguments between his parents had been increasing in recent years with a brief hiatus about the time of Wee Willie’s arrival. Such arguments disturbed Robbie who could remember much happier family times.
His father was anxious to make an early start because inquiries to the weather bureau disclosed that there was a major disturbance over the Gulf of St. Lawrence and it was expected to move west during the day and reach the North shore between Rimouski and Riviere-du-Loup the following morning. His father had commitments in New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island for later in the week and the following weekend and concluded if he could get as far as Edmundston that day, Tuesday, Nov 12th, he could avoid the possibility of being stuck in Quebec City for several days by the approaching storm. As an experienced winter traveler he knew that these early blizzards could produce very difficult, if not impossible, driving conditions even though the heavy accumulations of snow seldom lasted very long.
As they prepared for departure on Tuesday morning, his father checked on the weather and was assured once again that the storm would hit North Shore area and Quebec City on Wednesday. Various emergencies came up and it was close to noon before they were ready to depart. They said their good-byes to their grandparents and, of course, Churchill, who had reached the stage in his training of “shaking hands” although it was quite obvious that he still favored the traditional puppy approach of face licking to this rather silly human method of paying respects. The face licking brought screams of laughter from Wee Willie but was carefully avoided by his mother and Sandy who had, as they announced, “put their faces on.”
Despite having “put their faces on”, Robbie noted that both his mother and Sandy appeared a bit red eyed which Robbie found quite understandable considering the long sobbing session heard from his sister’s room and the sounds he had heard last night coming from his parents’ room.
Some snow was falling as they crossed the river and picked up the main highway in Levis. His father stopped for gas and turned back on the highway. There was little or no wind, the road was clear, traffic was light and the station wagon moved quickly towards Riviere-du-Loup and Robbie gradually became deeply submerged in thought. Most of these thoughts centered on the family.
His mother appeared to be dozing in the front seat and Sandy appeared to be engrossed in a book with what appeared to be short periods of deep thought when her eyes closed as if she was memorizing some complicated passages. Wee Willie had fallen fast asleep almost from the moment he was strapped into his car seat. Through half closed eyes Robbie concentrated his attention on his father.
Yesterday when his father returned from Montreal and Robbie helped him in loading the wagon he seemed to be in a strange mood. Sad, thoughtful, worried
…. .Robbie groped for the word that would describe his father during the half hour or so that they had worked together. His father always took control of such situations but there was usually a measure of give and take between he and his helpers. Not on this occasion as his father was brusque, demanding and very businesslike. Robbie suspected that something had happened in Montreal but that would hardly explain the sounds from his parent’s room during the night. His father had always enjoyed the regimental reunions and usually returned with stories of meeting old comrades and acquaintances from his wartime service. This time he appeared to be so preoccupied that attempts to get him started on an account of the reunion elicited few details.
For as long as he could remember his father had been the center of Robbie’s universe. His obsession was a combination of love and hero worship. He had always been so proud at the school Remembrance Day ceremonies when the principal told the assembled students of his father’s heroism and the pride that the city took in his exploits. There was one such ceremony held a few days early because of the calendar and when his father had not departed for the annual reunion. At Robbie’s request, his father came to the school and took part in the ceremonies. He spoke to the assembly about service and citizenship and visited all the senior classes and took questions from the students. Robbie was nearly bursting with pride as he b
asked in the obvious admiration of both students and teachers,
For about a week before Remembrance Day, one of the larger stores on Queen Street had devoted one of their main display windows to a Remembrance Day tableau put together by the local branch of the Canadian Legion. One panel of this display was always devoted to Robbie’s father. This part of the tableau included a huge picture of his father in dress uniform wearing all his court mounted medals. Also in the picture frame was the complete citation of the actions that led to his being awarded the Commonwealth’s highest decoration printed in letters large enough to be read from anywhere on the broad sidewalk. Below the picture was a smaller photograph taken at Buckingham Palace at his 1945 investiture of the VC by King George VI. Also in the same tableau were the citations for his two Military Medals, his Mention-in-Dispatches, his French Croix de Guerre and a patch of khaki battle dress bearing three gold Wound Stripes.
Robbie spent many hours on Queen Street while the Remembrance Day tableau was in the store window. He positioned himself either on the sidewalk or just across the street but always close enough to observe the many passers by as they stopped in front of the window to examine the tableau. He took great pride in their comments especially when they read aloud the citations. Robbie could recite them all word for word. There had not been as much interest in the tableau in recent years and he had heard rumors that a new tableau was planned for this year and it would reduce the portion of the display devoted to his father and his exploits.
The snow and wind had increased during the first hour on the highway and visibility was becoming a problem for his father. As Robbie watched him adjust his speed to prevailing conditions, Robbie reflected on what seemed to be happening to the family since the arrival of Wee Willie. His parents were having more and increasingly bitter quarrels followed by extended periods of stony silence. His father had always drank-occupational hazard he called it-but the drinking seemed to have increased and his mother was also drinking more. He had been deeply hurt by a comment he had heard at school where one of his schoolmates referred to his father as “the town hero” only to have that smart ass Marty Dobbs-his next door neighbor-counter with “Yeah, and the town drunk too”.