Chapter Nine: Two Ships

Our story so far: 

Justin and Mary met at a Saturday night dance in Edmonton, Alberta, in August, 1943.  He walked her home and she invited him to dinner Sunday.  After that big family supper, he caught a bus to the train station and  shipped out to England.  Two years (and no letters, postcards, phone calls, or contact of any kind) later, he was shipped back from England, landing at Halifax and boarding a train bound for his home near Vancouver, B.C.  In Calgary, he got off that train and hopped on board another - this one rolling towards Edmonton - and the girl he'd met two years before.  The story begins here, if you just joined us.  Go, catch up.  We'll wait.

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June, 1945.  Edmonton, Alberta

Justin stepped down onto the platform, his duffel slung over his shoulder. "This is crazy," he thought, as he walked out into the cool of a late spring morning.

He looked up and down Jasper Avenue, searching for landmarks, visual references, anything that would twig his memory and get him started in the right direction.  He'd spent part of his training in Edmonton, but didn't know much of the city beyond the Royal Canadian Air Force base on the north side.

A short walk brought him within sight of the MacDonald Hotel, and he began to quicken his pace.  It was Monday morning and the downtown shops were opening.  He passed by a bookseller, a hardware store, and a bakery (the smell of fresh bread wafting out the open door reminded him of his father's bakery in Kitsilano.  "Dad would be getting ready to open right about now," he thought.  Then: "If I'd stayed on the train, I'd be pulling into the station in Vancouver in about an hour."

Across the street, a boy on a ladder was changing the marquee on a movie theatre.  Beside it was a jewellery store:  People's Credit Jewellers.  Justin didn't think; he stepped off the curb, dodged a milk truck and a car, and made for the front door just as the owner turned the key and flipped the sign to "Open".

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Mary Houtton finished making her bed and gathered up the last of her clothes, dumping them in the cloth hamper her mother had made for her. She yawned, still exhausted from the weekend, especially yesterday's trip with her sister Vera and Kay Donald.  They'd set out early Sunday morning on the Calgary Trail in Kay's father's car, and three hours later pulled into the gravel parking lot at Sylvan Lake.

Halfway between Edmonton and Calgary, Sylvan Lake featured a beautiful beach, a boardwalk, crystal clear water (albeit chilly at this time of year), and most importantly of all:  boys.  Scads of boys, everywhere, boys from Calgary and Edmonton, country boys with farmer's tans and city boys with their own cars. 

There were girls, too, of course, but that was more of a concern to Vera and Kay than to Mary, who turned heads wherever she went. 

On this first trip of the year to the beach she had worn her brand-new bathing suit, a yellow flowered one piece with the requisite modesty skirt purchased at the Hudson's Bay Co. store in Edmonton. Repeated checks in the full-length mirror back in the dorm (and assurances from her sister and Kay) gave her confidence that it showed her off to best advantage. 

But it was only with the first of the wolf whistles - moments after setting out their blanket on the beach and dropping their wraps - that Mary felt at ease with how she looked.  Vera often snorted that Mary Lou never had any sense of how pretty she really was.

They'd had a wonderful time, the three of them, lazing in the sun, fending off the fellows, eating ice cream and daring one another to brave the frigid waters of the lake.  Mary was athletic and fearless, and when a handsome young man from Red Deer had plunged into the water and dared her to follow, she dove in and stayed under, only her head above the surface, until he'd dog-paddled shivering for the shore.

Vera and Kay had dropped her off late last night.  Today she had woken up early, ironed her "work dress", and put her face on for the job interview downtown at 10.  When it was done, she decided, she'd jump on a bus and go see Mom and Dad. 

Now that they'd moved to the new place, she didn't get to see them more than once a week.  This would be a nice surprise for her mom, and Mary made a mental note to find a fruit stand and see if they had any fresh strawberries.  It was early in the season, and they would be dear, but if the interview went well she could risk the extravagance.  Strawberries were her mother's favourite.

As she passed the mirror in the hallway of the dorm, she checked her hair one last time.  She pulled her lips back, practicing her smile and checking for lipstick on her teeth.  Nothing.  She set off into her morning, and as her feet hit the sidewalk outside, she felt a lightness.

"This is going to be a good day," she thought.

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 Justin hopped off the bus and slung his duffel onto the grass at the side of the road.  He plopped himself down on it, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket, and lit up.  He thought once again about what he planned to do.

Thousands of hours behind the stick of twin-seater fighter aircraft had created a young man who mixed caution and boldness in equal measure.  He was fearless, but never reckless; methodical about eliminating risk but willing to accept that no matter how sound the plan, risk would always be there.  He had stayed alive when so many others hadn't because he always seemed to know exactly where that fine line was etched between acceptable risk and foolhardiness.

Now his instincts were muddled.  This wasn't a lame-duck landing approach on a foggy airfield.  That kind of thing didn't scare him one bit.  He'd done that, crashed, and walked away.

If this went badly, there was no escape, no chute, no colourful story in the Officer's Mess.

He stubbed out the cigarette, threw his duffel over his shoulder, and crossed the street.  In front of the big green house, he paused for a moment, gathered himself, and walked briskly up to the front door.

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The interview had gone well; Mary was sure of it.  She'd been relieved when she was ushered into the office and it was a man behind the desk; she'd been charming and deferential and had impressed him (she thought) with her knowledge of simple book-keeping principles.  He hadn't offered her the job - he had other girls to interview.  But she figured she had a good chance.

As the bus rumbled and bumped towards her parents' house, she considered whether or not to give her notice at her current job. " Best wait till I have this one," she thought.  "A bird in the hand ... ."  Mary was always the sensible one.

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Justin was confused.

"Moved ...?" he repeated dumbly.

"Last year," the woman said.  "We moved in last September.  Not sure where they moved to.  The Post Office just took the mail and forwarded it.  But I think they're still in Edmonton somewhere."

"Is there anybody who might know where they are?"

The woman wiped her hands on her apron.  "Let me think," she said.  She looked up at Justin, then over his shoulder.  Her face darkened.  "Well, if anyone will ..."

Justin turned.

A grim-faced Verna Hextall was barrelling up the sidewalk towards them like a tall ship under full sail.

Comments

[laura]

YEAH!

I was hoping for a new installment:)

This is wonderful, Nils!

I actually licked my lips and rubbed my hands together in glee when I saw there was something new to digest:)

THANK YOU!!!

[Squirl]

I'm thrilled that there's a new installment. But I can't stand to wait for the next one. :)

[wordgirl]

Thanks for not forgetting about us. We NEED this story like a junkie needs crack. You're our pusher.

[Sarah]

Thank you so much for getting this going again. Lots of giddiness and squeaking when I saw that you had updated.

[Gora_Kagaz]

yay! i was about to go to sleep, but reading this installment was worth staying up for a few extra minutes. i had to go back and check who Verna Hextall was. can't wait for the next part! :)

[Laura - VitaminSea]

Home just in time to read the next installment. This must be my lucky day. :)

[Ortizzle]

Heh, heh... The *Nosy Old Spider* is bearing down. I predict the gossip will be good enough for her to give poor Justin the forwarding address. If she has it. I am still on the edge of my seat. Thank you, thank you for this latest installment. This is much better than my favorite TV soaps and far more addictive. (And, at the risk of becoming a PITA, please keep up with the screenplay version of this, 'cuz one day I wanna see the MOVIE. :-))

[Lyn]

Ohboyohboyohboy!!! Welcome back Justin and Mary! Like everyone else, I'm frothing at the bit! And you, Nils, masterfully have left this on a cliff hanging moment!! I'm going to try to breathe somewhat normally until the next installment.

BTW, I'm just old enough to remember the days of the serials on the radio of the 1940s, and the eager waiting for the next "show" feels the same as these visits to your blog. Thanks for a fond memory.

[Sara Sue]

When I read Vera was coming I heard the witch music from the Wizard of OZ!! I know she'll save the day though, can't wait!
Thank you!

[candace]

Oh, lordy! I can't wait to see what Vera has to say!

I am so loving this story!!

[candace]

VerNa, I meant Verna!

[Sara Sue]

Sorry Verna! Got it!

[StampyDurst]

Welcome back, Justin and Mary (and Nilbo). I like Sara Sue's recommendations for background music. Does Verna ever say, "...and your little dog, too" and then cackle madly? That would be awesome.

Anyway, anxiously awaiting the next installment.

[Katherine]

So happy the story is continuing! Your really know how to leave a cliffhanger, too.