Kit's Law (30 page)

Loret’s, Mudder’s and a dozen more muddied brown eyes and wide, white teeth flashed at us, and the brother, Bruddy, stepped forward, his shy smile softening the square of his jaw as he held out his hand in welcome—first to Sid, then to me. Mudder come behind him, holding out her hand, and then Fudder, and Loret, and then the youngsters were swarming around, each trying to gain a spot in front of me or Sid, and staring curiously at Josie, who was still trying to hide behind my back.

“Now listen up, everyone,” Fonse ordered, tweaking one of the older ones on the ear and boxing at another. “There’s lots to say and do, but the important thing is—today we’re goin’ to have a weddin’, right here in the garden.”

“A weddin’!” Loret exclaimed.

“Yup, a weddin’,” Fonse repeated, looking towards me and Sid. “Sid and Kit is gettin’ married.”

A babble of excited shrieks went up and I stared incredulously at Fonse.

“Married!”

The choked sound must’ve been mine, because suddenly the sea of muddied eyes was swamping over me.

Fonse groaned towards Sid.

“Good Lord, man, haven’t you asked her yet?”

A smaller groan from Sid, then he was grabbing at my hand and pulling me towards an old shed, canopied beneath a grove of lilac bushes. Josie started to run after us, but Fonse caught her by the hand and pulled her back.

“Best you stay with us, Josie,” he coaxed. “Look, see the big freckle on Georgie’s back? Georgie, haul up your shirt and show Josie your big freckle.”

A wail of protest followed after us from Georgie. Then Sid pulled me up short in front of the shed.

“Married! Sid … ”

“I’m sorry, Kit, I meant to ask you up in the gully. And, well then I thought perhaps it would be better in the boat. But then … ahh, I figured I wouldn’t tell you … ”

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” I asked with some wonder.

He grinned.

“If it could’ve been done that way.”

I threw up my arms, helplessly.

“We can’t get married! It’s … it’s … ”

“It’s the only thing left for us,” he said urgently, clasping hold of my arms. “Look here.” He pulled a white sheet of folded paper out of his pocket. “It’s a marriage licence. Fonse helped me get it in St. John’s before we came down. It’s all set.”

“But … ”

“First, listen, Kit. The reverend leaves for St. John’s first thing in the morning to meet me. He plans on setting me up in the university straightaway to keep me away from you. Now,” he said as his hands tightened, “do you want me to go away without you, again?”

I closed my eyes and tried to feel what was right, but all I could feel was the warmth of Sid’s hands as he squeezed them around mine, and the sweet sour smell of his breath fanning my face.

“No! No, I don’t want you to go away again, but … ”

“But, how else are we going to be together? I can’t live at home, again. There’s only you, and I can’t very well move in, unless … ” He stared at me expectantly.

“Unless we gets married,” I half whispered.

“That’s right,” he whispered back. “Then we can do what we want. Fonse has a fishing boat. He’s asked me to work with him and his brother, Bruddy. We could live here in the cove. Build a life.”

“Fishin’?”

“Yeah, fishing. But, we’ve got to get back this evening. Else, in the morning he’ll be leaving to catch the train … ”

“You’re not a fisher,” I cut in.

“I can be anything I want,” he said, eagerly. “And for now, that’s all I can see.”

“No.” I turned from him, shaking my head. “I can’t see what you’re proposin’, Sid. I don’t want us to be apart either, but you fishin’… and us livin’ here … ”

He was suddenly quiet.

“Which is it, Kit? The damn house in the gully that’s holdin’ you back? Or being a fisher’s wife?”

“Hah!” I turned to him, snorting. “You think I’d care where I lived with you, or of bein’ a fisher’s wife?”

“What is it then?”

“It’s … it’s the runnin’ I don’t like. The runnin’ in the middle of the night and gettin’ married, or else you’ll end up livin’ in St. John’s.” I stared at him, unsure of everything I was saying. He stared back, looking as perplexed as I felt.

“Well, do you … did you … mean for us to tell the reverend first?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No! I just need to know whether or not you’ll leave for St. John’s if I say no, that’s all.”

“Jesus! Is that it?”

“No! Yes, that’s it.”

“I never would have left without you, Kit. Never!” he swore, dropping to one knee and grabbing hold of my hands. “I swear to God, I will never leave you.”

“Then that’s good, because I’ll tell you one thing, Sid Ropson, it ain’t because I’m afraid of any reverend that I’ll marry you.”

“Are you saying yes then?”

“I don’t know what I’m sayin’,” I yelled. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you. I suppose I’m marryin’ you. Oh, God … ”

He let out a shriek and, picking me up by the waist, swung me around till I screamed.

“And it ain’t because of the reverend that I’m asking you,” he laughed. “I was just chicken-shit, that’s all. I didn’t know how else to lead up to it. Whooppee!” he screamed, holding back his head and swinging me around again. “It’s because I love you, Kit. I’m nuts about you. That’s why I’m asking you.”

I started to laugh, and he was laughing with me, and then he was hauling me by the hand back to where Fonse, Josie and everyone else was standing around, waiting for us.

“She said yes,” Sid roared. And then everyone was shouting and whistling and dancing, and Loret came and took me by the hand.

“Come. We have a weddin’ to get ready for.”

“We don’t expect nothing fancy … ” Sid began.

“We’ve got some work to do if we’re goin’ to make you the prettiest bride around,” said Loret, brushing Sid to one side and heading for the house. “A cake, Mudder, we’ve got to have a cake,” she said to the old woman.

“Well, I never!” Mudder exclaimed. “Emmy, go get me as much flour as Aunt Floss can spare. And tell her we’re havin’ a weddin’, and to make a pot of soup if she expects to come dancin’ on this day. Jimmy, go get Aunt Lily and tell her we’re havin’ a weddin’ and to bring over her linen tablecloth. Mother of the Saints, Loret,” she cried out, running to catch up, “never mind the hair curlin’ yet, we got to give the house a cleanin’ afore we brings the reverend in.”

“Speakin’ of the reverend, I’d best go get him afore he goes off to his drinkin’ hole for the day,” Fonse shouted above the clatter. “Sid, you come with me. Bruddy, you get the brew ready, I expect the cellar’s well stocked. Georgie, Jimmy, you boys take Josie down to see the horses, and mind she don’t get hurt.”

“I got to go get the cloth from Aunt Lily’s,” Jimmy sang out. “Mudder, can I go with Georgie instead?”

“You go get the cloth like I asked you,” Mudder replied. “Timmy, you go with Georgie.”

“Emmy, go down to Mam Reid’s,” Loret called out to the eldest girl, “and bring up me weddin’ dress. Mind you don’t drop it. Timmy, you go with Georgie and Charlie. Charlie, make sure he don’t go near the well.”

“And who’s goin’ to be the best man?” hollered Fudder, striding after the men as they headed for the gate.

“That’ll be me, the handsome one,” said Bruddy, finger-combing his cowlick back into place.

“Hah!” snorted Fonse, grabbing hold of Bruddy’s cowlick and twisting him around.

“And the only one with a new suit,” yelped Bruddy, wrapping his arms around his head for protection.

“It’s the ‘best man’ they’re lookin’ for, little brother,” Fonse roared, letting go of Bruddy and clapping an arm around Sid’s back. “And I’m the best man here, ain’t that right, Sid? And the best man’s goin’ to be the best man, suit or no suit.”

“And who’s goin’ to play the march if you’re the best man?” Loret sung out after them, taking the back steps to the house two at a time, still dragging me by the hand. “Bruddy, you’re the best man, and you’d better get them pants pressed because they been in the bottom of your drawer since the garden party, and we all knows the shape you come home in that night.”

A guffaw of laughter went up from the men at the mention of the garden party, and Loret and Mudder crowded me inside the house.

“They’ll laugh at it now,” said Loret, leading me through the kitchen towards a flight of stairs in the hallway, “but by the love of God, they weren’t laughin’ the day Fonse got packed off to jail for six months, hey Mudder?”

“That’s the way of men, to laugh at what gets the best of ’em,” said Mudder, rattling back the stove-top. “And you weren’t too sober yourself, when you took a smack at the Missus that started it all in the first place,” sung out Mudder as Loret took off up over the stairs with me stumbling along behind her, as helpless as if I’d been picked up and carried along by a squall of wind.

L
IZZY’S
B
LESSING

“W
E’LL GET YOUR HAIR SET IN CLIPS AFORE
we does anything else, so’s it’ll have a chance to curl a bit before the weddin’ starts,” Loret said, leading me into a bedroom and sitting me down besides a washstand. “By then Mudder’ll have the cake in the oven and you can do your bathin’, and I can start with the cleanin’. Here,” she fixed a mirror in front of me, “you can watch whilst I do’s the settin’.” Dipping a hairbrush into the wash pan, she wetted down my hair, brushing hard and fast.

“Now then, tell me about yourself,” she said.

“I … umm, I’m sixteen.”

“Mmmm, that’s real interestin’,” Loret mumbled through a mouthful of hair clips. “Sounds like you’re a little bit shy.” Bending over, she parted the screen of wet hair in front of my face, and peered in. “So was I when I first met Fonse. Screamin’ my way through five birthin’s, right there on that bed, with Mudder, Fudder and half of Godfather’s Cove lookin’ on, cured me of that.” She held the comb mid-air and stared at me, wide eyed. “Blessed mercy, is you pregnant!?”

“No! No!” I said, shaking my head and turning red.

She kept staring, then smiled, her face becoming as soft as the morning dew.

“Sure, you’re scared half to death.” Cupping my face, she examined it carefully. “Sixteen, you say? You don’t look no more then twelve. Here, lemme have a look.” She bundled my hair into a makeshift bun on the top of my head and peered at me sideways. “We’re goin’ to make you look twenty and a day, as well as the prettiest bride that ever was, and you’d better be appreciatin’ the offer seein’s how I’m still the official holder of that grand title. Now then.” She let the hair drop around my face. “Perhaps we’ll just set the hair around your face in clips, and let the rest hang down straight. Then, I’ll let you alone to have your bath.”

Twirling a strand of long, wet hair around her finger, she pressed it down into a knob against my scalp and clipped it. Tears sprang into my eyes as the sharp edge of the clip scratched across my scalp, but I never moved, and Loret stood back staring intently at her hairdressing to make sure she hadn’t taken too much hair and made the curl too big, and that it was twirled tightly enough to make the kind of curl she was hoping for. I’d never had anyone pay such close attention to me before, and for the first time I was wishing upon wishing that my hair might curl as prettily as Margaret Eveleigh’s and make Loret proud of her work, which, in some strange way, would make her feel proud of me. After another half-dozen twirls, knobs and painstaking clipping, she was finished and stood back, admiring her work.

“Mmm, we’ll see if it takes. Now, get undressed … what is it, Georgie?” she asked impatiently as the boy with the freckle on his back pushed open the door and poked his head in.

“Jimmy’s chasin’ after me.”

“There’ll be more than Jimmy chasin’ after you if you don’t get that tablecloth from Aunt Lily,” Loret cried out, wielding the hairbrush as one might a tomahawk. “Now go on and for the love of Mary, just once, can’t you youngsters get along without me comin’ after ye. Here, hold on, hold on,” she yelled, grabbing after the doorknob. “You go bring up the water for the tub, that’s what you can do. And tell Jimmy I said for him to go get the tablecloth, hurry on, hurry on. Now then,” she said, coming back to me as Georgie ran down over the stairs, “you get undressed, whilst I goes and helps Mudder clean up a bit. It’s not every day she haves a weddin’ in her backyard, and you can be sure she’s goin’ to make the most out of this one.”

The tub filled, I stood to one side in Loret’s dressing gown, hesitantly fingering its rope belt.

“Landsakes, aren’t you in that tub yet?” she asked, bustling in through the door with an armful of clothes and dumping it onto the bed. “I allows there’s a week’s washin’ to be done after this day; the youngsters are after slidin’ down every mudhole from here down to the Arm. Oh, for God’s sake,” she bawled out as Bruddy leaned in through the door behind her, fingers tapping overhead on the door jamb.

“Where’d the youngsters put the hammer?” he asked, not seeing me at first.

“Where’d the youngsters put the hammer,” Loret mimicked. “Sure, I don’t know where the youngsters put the hammer, Bruddy! My God, make no wonder Kit’s scared to get undressed. It’s like the four winds in here with the draught from the door openin’ and closin’.”

Twisting his head and seeing me, Bruddy squeezed shut his eyes and hastily ducked back out, hauling the door shut behind him. Loret clawed the door open again.

“Go find the young buggers and make them tell you where they put the hammer,” she sung out after him as he stomped down over the stairs. Rolling her eyes, she shut the door, and noting how I was still standing there, fidgeting with the string to my dressing gown, she threw down the shirt she was folding and grinned understandingly. “I’ll be cleanin’ the boys’ room if you needs me,” she said, sailing out the door and closing it firmly behind her.

Jamming the edge of the dresser against the door, I threw off the dressing gown and quickly hopped into the tub. Ten minutes later I was back out, tightly wrapped in the dressing gown and sitting on the edge of the bed. Hearing Josie’s bark, I went to the window and peered out through the white lace curtains. She was bounding at breakneck speed down through one of the ditches between the potato beds, with Jimmy and Georgie gunning to catch up with her. They disappeared around the back of the shed, and next I seen a flash of red streaking through the woods beyond.