Kit's Law (13 page)

Doctor Hodgins listened quietly while they spoke, a sad little smile turning up the corners of his mouth, one that appeared to be more for them, rather than for the sad picture they were painting of me and Josie.

“How’s Kit’s grades?” he asked, turning to Mr. Haynes.

“She’s always managed to maintain good grades, Doctor,” said Mr. Haynes.

“How good?” asked Doctor Hodgins.

Mr. Haynes shrugged.

“Very good.”

“An A student?” persisted Doctor Hodgins.

Mr. Haynes nodded.

“She could go far if she had the chance,” he added.

“Any disciplinary problems these days?”

“Not … disorderly, certainly.”

“Must make it easier for you, not having to reach for the strap as often,” Doctor Hodgins said evenly.

Mr. Haynes shoved his hands back in his pocket and looked over to May Eveleigh, seemingly anxious to escape Doctor Hodgins’s attention.

“It’s a long ways she has to walk to school. I don’t suppose the wind might have something to do with her unkempt appearance?” Doctor Hodgins asked of no one in particular while circling around to where May Eveleigh was perched on the edge of the divan. Laying a hand on her shoulder, and in a suddenly softened tone that alarmed me by its trembling, he went on to say, “It’s good of you to allow for the bill, May. There would be many pots without a pudding if not for your charity over at the store. I think everyone here would agree with that.”

May nodded primly.

“I do’s my best, although it’s not always easy, especially now in the wintertime with no fish being sold and everything on credit.”

“And there’s those that never pays,” Jimmy Randall burst out with a surly shake of his head. “You be an angel to keep ’em on, May.”

“It’s God’s work, for sure,” Mrs. Ropson said, throwing back the shawl and rising from her seat. “Would you like some more tea, May? How about you, Jimmy?”

“As I was saying,” the reverend said, rubbing his clasped hands together as if they were cold. “It’ll be a relief for the girl to have her mother taken care of. I’ve arranged it so’s they can both stay in the same room.”

“Did you ask her if she was cold?” Doctor Hodgins asked, smiling his thank-you as Mrs. Ropson refilled his cup.

The reverend raised his brow.

“Pardon me?”

“Your concern is that Kit was freezing to death,” Doctor Hodgins said. “She’s going on fourteen; they’re as young as that bearing babies along the shore. Don’t you think Kit’s old enough to figure out if she’s cold or not, and to put on extra clothes if she was?”

The reverend sighed.

“You saw her out there, Doctor. She was outdoors in a ragged nightdress.”

“Her grandmother’s flannelette nightdress, what Kit always wears when she’s missing Lizzy. Is there none of us here who don’t understand the peculiarities of grief?” Doctor Hodgins tiredly circled the room. “Perhaps things did get a little out of hand the past couple of days, what with Drucie, Kit and her mother all coming down with the flu, the same flu that’s knocked out most of Haire’s Hollow, so’s I’ve been told. And isn’t what’s happening here today a just enough reason as to why Kit wouldn’t approach any of you for help with chopping a little firewood?” He ended his say with his eyes on May, who hung her head the way Josie did once, when Nan caught her stealing the hard green candies out of her apron pocket.

“Mercy, Doctor,” Mrs. Ropson said, laying down the tea pot none too gently. “You can see for yourself the condition of the girl.”

“It—it’s her mother’s runnin’ around the way she does, too,” Jimmy Randall protested. “It’s not a thing for a young girl to be growin’ up with.”

Doctor Hodgins held up his hand like one who has had enough of a bad tonic.

“Josie Pitman does in public what every man here has done in the privacy of his thoughts and elsewhere. Come, come now, May,” he added at her shocked gasp, “there’s none of us lily white, and in your business you would know that. Do we take it upon ourselves to judge and punish our neighbours when our own slates are just as smeared?”

“I’m for doin’ what’s right,” May said. “And leavin’ a girl to care for her retarded mother don’t seem to me to be right.”

“And it’s right you are to be concerned,” Doctor Hodgins agreed. “We all know Josie’s limitations, it’s her strengths that we don’t know. Kit and her mother should be given a chance to take care of each other, providing we, as a community, help from the outside. Drucie might not be the best housekeeper that ever was, but she’s the closest thing to family that Kit has. Another year and she won’t be needing anybody to see over her. She’s strong, is Kit, and more grown up then her size would have you believe.”

The reverend took a step closer to Doctor Hodgins and spoke with an angry snort.

“Is the state of her sitting out there an indication of how well she takes care of herself?”

Doctor Hodgins turned on the reverend like a coiled spring ready to snap.

“It’s how you would have her, reverend!” he said in a half-whisper.

A silence fell as both men stared at each other, then, “How can we make it better?”

It was Mrs. Haynes that spoke. And what with her hardly ever speaking, it was enough to bring everyone’s attention away from the strained air between the doctor and the reverend and focus on her.

“I … could bake bread for them,” she offered, her eyes shifting from her husband’s, and her voice fading fainter with each spoken word.

It was as if the sun rose on Doctor Hodgins’s face.

“God bless you,” he said deeply, grasping both her hands off her lap and shaking them. “It’s in the hearts of people like you where miracles are born, and where would we be without miracles? For Kit and Josie aren’t the only two orphans Haire’s Hollow has inherited. With Elsie gone, I’m as needy as they are for a pair of worsted socks and a loaf of baked bread.”

May Eveleigh gave a quick laugh.

“Blessed Lord, there’s many as would be pleased to knit you a pair of socks, Doctor, for all what you’ve done around here.”

“You’re right in that, May my dear, there’s many a way to pay a bill, for sure,” Doctor Hodgins agreed, smiling happily. “Although some things require money and for my part, I’ll be willing to pay for any extra food Kit and her mother need, plus clothes. Put it on my bill, May. As for the rest, I’ll let you women decide what has to be done. After all, it’s the women who carry forth most of God’s work in any community. What do you say, Mrs. Ropson?”

“I—it’s for the reverend to say,” Mrs. Ropson said, coming out of her frozen state and busying herself with putting the tea things back on the tray.

There was a silence as all hands turned to look at the reverend. With a smile weaker than water, he spoke in a low, whispery voice.

“It’s not how I would have it, Doctor. You’ve taken it out of my hands. However, we will do our Christian duty. Sidney will start as of tomorrow going out to the gully and splitting wood for the woman and her girl.”

It was hard to tell what come first, the look of surprise on Doctor Hodgins’s face or the horrified gasp sounding from Mrs. Ropson.

“Sidney! Heavens, no.” She dropped the cover to the teapot as if she had just discovered it to be a dead rat. “Mercy, Reverend, he’s much too sick with asthma to be out in the cold. For sure, Doctor, you know that … ”

“The boy needs to build up his strength,” the reverend said shrilly, raising a hand to silence his wife. Turning cold, squinty eyes onto Doctor Hodgins, he lowered his voice to little more than a thin whisper. “Unless you have problems with the idea, Doctor?”

“No. No problem. If that’s what you want,” said Doctor Hodgins, shaking his head.

“He’ll start this week. I think it fair to warn you, Hodgins, if I learn of anything going on out there that’s not acceptable in a Christian home, I’ll have both the girl and her mother on a train heading for St. John’s before anyone in Haire’s Hollow knows the difference. It’s God’s work.”

I pulled back from the window, casting my eyes sideways onto Sid’s, but his face was in shadow.

“Better get back,” he whispered as some of those inside stirred to leave. Then he was strutting down the hall in front of me, his proud step a bit much for the queasiness that was starting up in my stomach again.

Josie rose as we entered the room, and none too soon as the sitting-room door opened and Doctor Hodgins bustled through. Making fast work of calling out goodbyes to those still inside, he clapped Sid on the shoulder, then quickly ushered me and Josie out the door and into his car.

“Go home! Go home!” barked Josie as she climbed onto the front seat besides Doctor Hodgins, leaving me to crawl into the back. I held my hands to my upset stomach, attempting to squash the memory of Sid Ropson’s satisfied face as he had bid us good night, while holding the door open for our departure. All too soon we were at the gully, and I reluctantly climbed out into the cold evening air, the heat inside Doctor Hodgins’s car becoming a comforting pillow.

“You go inside,” Doctor Hodgins bade, getting out of the car and following behind. “I’m going to split some wood for a fire.”

Josie sank into the rocking chair, her hands shoved deeply into the pockets of her new coat, while I changed into a clean nightdress and sweater, and hauled a pair of woollen vamps onto my feet. After Doctor Hodgins had lit a fire and had gone outside to split more wood for the evening, I lit the lamp and made a pot of tea, shooting quick looks at the back of Josie’s scarfed head as she rocked in the rocking chair, her woollen-socked feet resting on the oven door for warmth, and her sniffles muffled as she kept wiping at her nose with the sleeve of her coat.

“This’ll do you till tomorrow,” Doctor Hodgins said, coming in through the door with a last load of wood. “I’ll be back out in the morning to check on you and split some more to do you till Josie gets better—or Sid comes.”

I stiffened at the sound of Sid’s name and poured Doctor Hodgins a cup of tea. Passing a cup to Josie, I lingered by the stove, busying myself with the teapot.

“I can get you a tub of hot water, if you like,” I said to her, ignoring the nausea in my stomach and my body’s screaming need to crawl into bed. “To wash your hair.”

“Don’t want to wash my hair,” she muttered, blowing on the hot tea to cool it, and slurping it back. Glowering up at me as I continued to stand there, she rose to her feet in a huff and stomped down the hallway to her room, slopping the tea over her cup with each thumping footstep.

“I’ll have a word with her,” said Doctor Hodgins, laying his cup on the table. “Don’t worry about Sid,” he said, squeezing my arm reassuringly as he walked past me. “I got a good feeling about that boy.”

He tapped on Josie’s room door and was inside for but a minute, then was back.

“She’ll be wanting her bath, now,” he said, tucking up his coat collar and preparing to leave.

“How’d you get her to change her mind?” I asked with some surprise.

“Easy,” he replied. “I told her she would feel much better if she were to bathe and wash her hair.” He grinned at my puzzled look. “You have to make connections with things she understands,” he said. “If she connects cleanliness with feeling good, then she’ll clean herself.”

Doctor Hodgins left me there, working that one through. Then Josie was coming down the hallway, kicking the washtub in front of her. I shoved another junk of wood in the stove and raised the wick in the lamp to brighten the room.

P
LANTING
S
EEDS

T
HE COLD SPELL HAD GIVEN OVER TO
a warm southerly wind and Aunt Drucie had just left for home on the afternoon that Sid first started chopping wood. The straight-back walk and hesitating manner that he usually carried around the school was offset by an easy, loping gait that made him look as if he was half-dancing, that first time I seen him walking down over the bank from the road. He was wearing his black wool jacket, like the reverend’s, and a pair of pressed trousers—not the sort of clothes to be cleaving wood with. I watched him through the corner of Nan’s room window. He slowed his step and I peered along with him down the gully. Josie was squat behind a rock, watching him with the same intensity as myself. Feeling kind of foolish, I tightened the ribbon around my ponytail and, buttoning up my sweater, went out on the stoop to greet the reverend’s spy. “Did I overstep the bear trap?” he asked with a faint, lopsided grin, rolling his eyes to Nan’s bedroom window, then over to where Josie was still hiding.

I nodded towards the axe and the chopping block sitting next to a mountain of birch junks, and stepped back inside.

“Hey, wait … ” he called out, but the door was already slamming shut. Dumping my school books onto the table, so’s he’d have something Christian like to report back to the reverend should he happen to fall up against one of the windows and peek inside, I picked up a catalogue and lay back on the daybed.

An hour must’ve went by and gradually the fitful thud thudding of the axe and the occasional burst of muffled mutterings gave way to a more regular thud thud thud and a tuneful whistling. Getting up to shove a stick of wood in the stove, I took another quick peek through Nan’s room window, this time, standing far enough back so’s not to be seen. His jacket was lying stiffly across a junk of wood, and he stood with his white shirt sleeves rolled up, and streaks of sweat trickling down his face. He didn’t look as stiff without the jacket and its extra padding puffing up his shoulders. Standing the axe by the side of his leg, he arched his back and rubbed at his neck, looking curiously over at Josie who was still crouched behind the rock, watching him. Slipping back into the kitchen, I poured a jug of water and, taking a glass off the bin, went out onto the stoop. A cup of tea deserved a glass of water.

Ignoring the glass, he reached gratefully for the water jug and, lifting it to his lips, drank till he was red in the face.

“Can I get you anything else?” I asked as he lifted the jug back down.

“Water’s fine,” he said, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “What’s you doing, in there?” he asked, looking curiously over my shoulder inside the house.