by Paul Rowe
“People here are going to wonder where it all come from,” Paddy said.
“Who’s to say I didn’t knit it myself?” she said, annoyed that he wasn’t figuring things out her way. “We won’t let the boys wear them for a long time yet, though,” she quickly added.
“Very good, girl,” he replied, with a backward toss of his head that meant he’d said all he was going to say on the subject. Leona couldn’t resist pushing things just a little further.
“Look at these drawers, Paddy,” she said, holding up different pairs of one-piece woollen underwear. “One for Nick, one for Toby, and even one for the baby. It’s all right to put the boys in these now, isn’t it? Who’s gonna know what Jas is wearing in the crib or what Toby and Nick got on under their clothes?”
She accepted his silence as a go-ahead.
“It’s a bit damp,” she said. “I’ll stoke up the fire before we goes to bed and lay it all out to dry. The boys can wear the drawers tomorrow.” She took his hand as he rose from his seat. “Paddy, my dear, you may not know it yet, but this is our lucky day.”
They went to bed then, with the mittens, hats, and sweaters scattered on the kitchen table, the oven door, and parts of the floor. Three pale wrinkled suits of underwear hung like fragile bodies on a line above the stove.
4
The next day Arthur Duke sat in his squeaky new leather office chair in the British Hall Building in St. John’s and stared at the pair of cardboard cases lying on his gleaming oak desk. He massaged his temples and tried to grasp the painful and overwhelming fact that there were only two instead of three. Captain Miguel de Silva stood across from him. Arthur had taken the measure of the man as best he could and determined that it was unlikely he was doing something underhanded in failing to deliver the third box. However, since it was essential that he know the fate of the missing box, Arthur had been questioning him for over two hours, pressing for details just in case the captain was either deliberately omitting or inadvertently holding something back.
“Tell me again what you did with the third box,” he said.
“I carry it on deck but, accidentally, I leave it. We were getting into life boats.”
“Yes, but where, exactly, did you leave it?”
“Beside ladder we use to abandon ship. We almost ashore before I notice. Too late to go back.”
“You’re absolutely sure it wasn’t taken by a crew member?”
“Mr. Duke, I am captain. The last to abandon ship. I am very sorry for this, but my ship and my men were in danger.”
The note of impatience in this apology annoyed rather than appeased Arthur.
“I do understand, Captain. Unfortunately, I find myself missing one third of a very valuable and important shipment that I entrusted to your care. I also understand that, since you have clearly forfeited your fee for this service you may have little remaining interest in the matter, but you surely don’t mind if I ask you a few more questions before you wash your hands of it entirely?”
Arthur could see by the way the captain’s eyes narrowed that he wasn’t impressed by the display of pique. He didn’t want to appear puerile, so he made an effort to get control of himself. At twenty, he was already judged by many to be too young to handle the responsibilities of his new office. His patrician mentor, Sir Robert Bond, the Prime Minister of Newfoundland, had recently passed over a host of seasoned civil servants to choose Arthur as his new Deputy Colonial Secretary. The rejects would be delighted to learn that he’d bungled an important assignment so early on.
“Forgive me, Captain, I’m obviously upset by these developments.”
“I understand, Mr. Duke,” the captain replied.
“The Prime Minister returns from London in two days and, as you know, I asked you to deliver this shipment from Boston so that I might have it ready for him upon his arrival. This turn of events is very unfortunate. If there is any chance, any chance in the world of retrieving that missing box, then it must be done.”
He despised the edge of desperation creeping into his voice.
“Please, Mr. Duke,” the captain said, with a toss of his hand and a smile that Arthur judged too cavalier by half, “ask questions, as you like.”
Arthur pressed on. “Well, you’re absolutely certain that the third box went down with the ship? No one could have gotten on board?”
“I told the people it was very dangerous.”
“But you also say that you left your men and went to Placentia. How can you be sure no one went to the vessel in your absence?”
“The man at the church, he warn everyone not to go. I hear later that the ship go down before anyone go out there.”
“And this man, Merrigan, he’s the sort to be trusted?”
“I believe, yes.”
“How did you meet him?”
“It was to his yard we went first, when we find the shore in the lifeboat.”
“I see. He was the first person you spoke to there.”
The captain hesitated. “It was to the girl we spoke first.”
“The girl? There was a girl?”
“It was his wife,” the captain said, “but she very young. Like a girl.”
“I see, Captain. So, it was the girl who took you and your men to the church, not the Merrigan fellow, after all.”
“No, the girl, she go to the cove.”
“What cove?”
“The cove with the lifeboats.”
“Really? Why did she do that?”
“She had something there to do, she said. Wood, I think.”
“At the spot where you’d landed?”
“Yes, it was … how would you say it, back of their place.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“You did not ask the question.”
Arthur glared, but kept his composure. At last, the interrogation had uncovered something.
“I see nothing for it but to go down there myself and investigate. I’ll arrange a carriage for tomorrow. I’ll be hard-pressed to make it back before Sir Robert returns, but, when he does, at least he’ll know I’ve done everything in my power to remedy the situation.”
Haste makes waste was one of Sir Robert’s favourite maxims, and Arthur was very close to having created a very wasteful situation indeed. He hoped he still had time to correct it.
Leona had heard the old story of the devil turning up one day in some out-of-the-way place as a well-pressed, well-dressed gentlemen. That might have explained her instant dislike for Arthur Duke when she opened the door two days later and found him on her front step. Or maybe it was the narrow set of his eyes, the way they stared at you down the smooth gun barrel of his nose. It might have been his neatly trimmed moustache with its air of vanity and false maturity. It might have been his fancy dress, the charcoal overcoat against the seagull whiteness of his collar and the little gold pin that fastened his paisley tie. It might have been the way he pulled his shiny leather gloves off one finger at a time. It might even have been the insincere little smile that flitted onto his lips once he’d introduced himself and looked at her as if she should keel over and thank the Lord for sending such a grand visitor as himself. But, most likely, it was simply the fact she knew what he was after that made him seem diabolical.
Strangely, his youth was the most unsettling thing about him. She’d grown used to dealing with older people, exploiting the unnecessary allowances they made for her, but that wouldn’t be the case with this whipper-snapper from St. John’s. He was barely more than a boy, but she sensed something cold and deliberate about him that gave her the shivers and immediately put her on guard.
“What can I do for you today?” she said, quickly deciding not to waste a smile on him.
“I’d like to ask you some questions, if I may, about a shipwreck that took place on those rocks out there. The Virgin Rocks, you call them, isn’t that right?”
“Well, sir, I notice you’re stayin’ over at Maisie’s Tobin’s. She can tell you everything yo
u need to know about the wreck, and anything else in Knock Harbour you might be curious about, too, so I don’t know why you’d want to talk to me.”
She saw his dark piercing eyes take her measure with focussed determination. “The captain of the vessel told me that you were the first person he spoke to.”
“They come into our yard, so me and Paddy was the first to talk to ‘em, yes.”
“He said you went to the cove down there when everybody else was heading to the church.”
“So I did.”
“Why was that?”
“Well, if ya wants to know, I went to get the bundle of driftwood I left down there the evening before. I wanted to get it home in case it rained.”
“I see.”
“Then, I had to get the fire lit and the youngsters dressed an’ fed. That’s why I was late getting’ to the church that morning, in case Maisie said anything to you about that. She don’t have a chick nor a child to tend to, but I got three boys, Mr. Duke, and, as a matter of fact, they’re in there now. My youngest is feelin’ poorly, too, so I got to go.”
“Mrs. Merrigan, I’m actually here on a delicate bit of government business.”
She turned back and offered him a slight smile. “What business is that of mine.”
“It might concern you, Mrs. Merrigan, if you happened to take any salvage from that vessel four days ago.”
“Didn’t Maisie tell you? Nobody got a scrap of salvage off that boat. She went straight to the bottom before anyone got a chance.”
“Mrs. Tobin seemed to think that if anyone did happen to get something off the vessel it would have been you.”
“Maisie Tobin is the biggest backbiter on this shore, and you’d do well to ignore half of what she says and take the other half for lies.”
Arthur reached beneath his coat to an inside jacket pocket and pulled out a wallet. “Let’s just say you did, though. I’d be glad to offer you a generous reward for the return of any materials that looked like they might be of interest to the government.” He pulled a fresh new twenty dollar bill from the wallet.
“Mr. Duke, if I had anything belonged to you or the government, I’d give it back an’ that would be the end of it. But now you’re after insultin’ me, so I got to ask you to get off my property.”
They stared at each other. She put her arms akimbo and dared him to deny her request. She watched him still desperately trying to gauge her honesty and she knew she’d won the little cat and mouse game for now. He hadn’t said what was inside the box and she hadn’t let slip any clue that she might know. Finally, appearing to realize that he had indeed gone too far, Arthur Duke turned on his heels and headed toward the road.
5
Leona hadn’t lied about everything. The baby, Jas, had been colic and unhappy for a day or two, and the next day the two older boys were complaining of headaches and a bad stomach, so she put them to bed. She nursed them there for two days and they seemed to be recovering. Then she discovered that Toby had developed a rash all over his body and she became concerned; when Nicholas and Jas developed the same rash the following day, she felt the first uneasy twinges of alarm.
“What ails ‘em?” Paddy asked, when he walked into the boys’ room that morning and saw her bending over Toby and Nick in the bed.
“They got a fever and diarrhea. Jas is not the best either. I’ll keep a close eye on ‘em again today. You go on, an’ don’t worry. Youngsters is always comin’ down with something.”
But as the day wore on their conditions worsened. All three became more and more listless, their temperatures rose and fell between a fever and severe chills and she struggled to keep them alternately cool or warm. She nursed them all day. Several times it occurred to her to ask Katie for help, but when they seemed to rally the hope that she might nurse them back to health herself held her back. Darkness crept in almost without her noticing until she heard Paddy come in by the back linney door. At this point, she didn’t want him to see the children’s condition, so she blocked his way in the door when she opened it to his knock.
“They’re doin’ better,” she said, nodding at the fish slime on his red hands. “You clean yourself up now and get a bite to eat. I got to clean them up, too, then you can come in and say goodnight.” Paddy gave her an awkward, worried smile and stepped sheepishly away. She listened to his slow retreat down the stairs. She could tell he’d been struck by the stench in the room. She realized as soon as she closed the door on him that she’d adjusted to it during the long day.
She had it in mind to give each of the two older boys a careful washing before dressing them for bed. She lit a second lamp, unfolded a clean white sheet and spread it on the floor. It was cooler there anyway, and it would be a good place to have a really close look at them from head to toe. She wanted to get to the bottom of this illness. Nick protested with a slight groan as she lifted him to the floor and slipped a pillow under his head. He asked for water, swallowed hard when she gave it to him, then stared at her with shining, frightened eyes. Toby, unlike Nick, she realized with a start when she moved him, was no longer aware of his surroundings. Once on the floor his breath became raspy and uncontrollable. She watched with alarm as his chest began to expand and contract with a sickening rapidity. But he soon calmed down again and she breathed a sigh of relief. The wisdom of getting Katie’s help, even having Edward fetch the doctor in Placentia, occurred to her with greater force now. She’d run over to their place, she decided, as soon as she’d finished her inspection.
She took the smaller of the two lamps in her hand and laid it on the floor beside Nick. Her face was inches from his skin as she examined his thin body, not sure what she was looking for – some cut, or sign of infection, some cause or explanation of how the sickness was getting in. She found a scattering of small, barely noticeable spots on his shin. The area was red with scratching and she realized that she had seen them all scratch themselves in the last few days. She’d thought perhaps they were unused to the type of wool in the new underwear. She found spots on his chest, as well, which was also red with scratching. They appeared to be tiny, tiny scabs covering insect bites. She picked one loose with a fingernail and held it between her thumb and forefinger. She brushed sweat-dampened stands of hair from her eyes as she stood and brought her fingertip toward the lamp. A deep shudder of horror ran through her when she saw the minute translucent creature with its crab-like claws.
The realization that the long underwear had been infested slammed into her like a hammer stroke. The force of it staggered her and she had to steady herself against the wall. How could she have neglected to sterilize everything in the hottest kind of water?
“Paddy,” she called frantically and started stripping the beds. By the time he got to the top of the stairs she was dragging the straw and seaweed-filled mattresses into the hallway. She threw the sheets and blankets after them. “Take this outside and burn it. All of it!” she shouted at him. “The clothes we found is lousy. That’s what’s makin’ the boys so sick. We got to destroy that trunk and everything that come out of it.”
Paddy wrestled the mattresses and blankets into his arms and threw them over the banister. He was about to bolt down the stairs when she grabbed his sweater in her fists and shook him in a confusion of pleading and pointless aggression. She saw the hurt and confusion in his eyes. In her mind’s eye, she saw the foundered schooner slip beneath the waves and a vast and sickening emptiness swept into her stomach.
“Tell Katie I needs her,” she said. A desperate sob broke from her and she struck herself angrily on the chest. “You and Edward start a fire in the yard.”
Soon, in the yard, the yellow flames licked wildly at the night and drew the neighbours out of their houses. They peered confusedly into the darkness and saw Paddy throw a load of bedding onto a blazing fire. They watched as he returned to the house for an armful of woollen clothes and flung them into the fire, as well. They saw him carry a small trunk into the yard, angrily smash it to pieces with an
axe and feed it to the flames in a flurry of curses.
“What in God’s name are ya doing, Paddy?” someone called.
“Something in the house is makin’ the youngsters sick,” he said. “Got to get rid of it.”
He never said another word, not even much later when he heard Leona’s scream, her choking sobs and Katie’s frantic consoling. He was silent all the while, even when he walked into the boys’ room moments later and lifted Jas out of the crib, even as he carried him downstairs to the wood stove, pulled down the oven door and laid his baby boy on the bed of warm splits. He wordlessly sat to the table and waited.
Leona and Katie stayed in the room all night, Katie scrubbing the floor and walls with Jeyes fluid while Leona desperately tried to save the two boys she had left. A pale shaft of morning sunlight cut through the kitchen when Leona finally came down the stairs. Paddy sat looking across the room at the still, silent bundle in the oven. He had his arm outstretched, palm upturned upon the table. Leona found herself unable to reach for that hand. Instead, she walked past him into the yard, in time to see the doctor from Placentia ride up in his gig.
“We don’t need the doctor any more,” she said, to no one in particular. “Someone get Father O’Connell.”
Next day, three small crosses were erected on the cemetery hill.
part two
1
April 1, 1923, was Easter Sunday. It was also April Fool’s Day. William James Cantwell looked out Thomas Tobin’s kitchen window and contemplated the absurd collision of those two feast days. He watched the little beached-in community of Knock Harbour endure the usual trinity of strong winds, grey skies and bone-chilling cold that often accompanied the dubious resurrection of a Newfoundland spring. William glanced forlornly at the lowering sky and experienced a vague sensation that it was closing down on him somehow, like a coffin lid. He breathed deeply to combat this feeling, resisting the large, world-weary sigh that was slowly building inside him. He was the government member, after all, and Thomas would be disappointed to have such a visitor appear low-minded. On the contrary, his visit ought to bestow a certain distinction, even joy, upon the household.