Timeline - Still between Anne of the Island and Anne of Windy Poplars.

Chapter 3: Curses

Gilbert was gone on Friday and Saturday which made for a very long weekend. At first, Anne thought, "What's he doing now? How is he holding up?" Begrudgingly she realized that thinking about him all the time wasn't going to get her through a three-year engagement. She banished such reflections and tried to find the bright side of missing him. She used the extra time his absence afforded to write her roommates from Patty's Place.

Anne drafted a particularly long document for Phil Blake. She owed a lot of her current happiness to Mrs. Blake for it was her letter to Gilbert to 'try again' that brought them back together with friendship and mutual love. Anne confessed to Phil about her "book of revelations" that she bitterly read that evening she thought Gilbert dying. "Phil, I just knew then that I had always loved him. Always." Anne paused before she finished the next line. "Everything is so right in the world now, it just feels like magic."

Perhaps it actually was.

Saturday she spent time baking a cake for Mrs. Blythe's Sunday dinner. She had an inexhaustible supply of baking powder at her disposal from the Rollings Reliable Baking Powder Company. Anne was very careful to make sure it tasted nice, with vanilla flavoring, as opposed to anodyne liniment. Dora helped her ice the layers later that evening, and Anne inquired about the other morning when Dora wanted to ask her something. Dora flushed a bit and explained, whilst Davy annoyed them for food, that she had forgotten what she wanted to ask. This irritated Anne because Dora was lying. Dora never forgot anything, but Anne said nothing more.

That night Anne felt a little sulky and displaced. She took to her room with her worn copy of Jane Eyre and wished not to be disturbed unless Gilbert stopped by. He would be back in Avonlea late that evening. Anne tried to stay awake but gave in as the house fell into its own slumber. Who was she to argue? She would see him all day tomorrow.

Sunday morning started in a rush. Once again, Anne rested longer than she had intended, and, after examining the state of her drawers, she understood why she felt a bit run down. Her mood had been affected by more than just missing Gilbert, it was also her time to flower.

This put a sarcastic edge on her thoughts. Great. Wonderful. Just perfect. Today she needed to feel and look her best. She was expected at the Blythes after church. It was the last time she could eat with them before leaving for Summerside. And, she supposed, she was really wanted there given the news she had just received from Gilbert. But panic hit her heart, terrifying her to her core, as she realized her ragbag was just about empty. What was left was not enough for the day, much less a week. She'd have to make an excuse and stay home. And what would she tell Gil? Oh, goodness! What could she tell Gil? I can't leave the house because I have no rags?

"Marilla!" Anne shouted in a way that made Marilla reminisce for days gone by. Anne ran downstairs to the kitchen almost knocking Davy over as he left the house to hitch up the buggy.

"Did you move all my rags?" Anne said. "I can't find hardly any. They're gone!"

Mrs. Rachel Lynde put down her tea and tried to say something but was not heard.

"What do you mean they're gone!" Marilla said horrified.

"I only have one or two left in my bag. I'm supposed to be with Gilbert's people today, and I…oh! There's no time to make new ones before church! Maybe Mrs. Barry can help me?" Anne wished Diana still lived at Orchard Slope at that moment. "Who would take my rags?"

"Well I don't know, but it certainly wasn't me or Rachel."

"Might I suggest that you check with Dora? Oh, don't look for her now, she left early to walk with Minnie May Barry to Sunday School. But if you think about it, she's been such a quiet thing lately. I wonder if she's trying to tell the two of you something. But you Anne, you're hard to find these days, and when you are here it's a constant stream of 'Gilbert this' or 'Gilbert that'. And Marilla, you're not as crisp as you used to be, Anne's mellowed you some, but a personality like Dora's is too meek to find you approachable on this subject."

"Of course, Dora," Anne gasped with empathy. "Oh, how awful of me. I cut her off the other morning when she was trying to tell me something. This must have been it. And she wouldn't talk with me with Davy around yesterday. I take it she talked with you, Mrs. Lynde?"

"She did," Mrs. Lynde replied. "But it wasn't much of a conversation, that's what! And I never told her to steal your rags."

Marilla grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter and frowned. "I should have seen it coming. She's twelve now. Maybe if she were a year older, I might have. I'll check with her this evening."

"But what do I do meanwhile?" Anne implored. "You know Mrs. Blythe has made a big feast for dinner and I am wanted there. You too Marilla, maybe you can explain with an excuse?"

Marilla snapped her head in quick disagreement. "Anne Shirley, you are the star of the show. If you don't go, I have no business being there. And, I am not explaining either. You are old enough, and smart enough, to solve your own problems. Now stop fretting and figure out who you need to tell."

Mrs. Lynde and Marilla started to make their way to leave. Marilla took off her apron and Mrs. Lynde put on her best hat, an atrocious thing in Anne's opinion, with fake flowers and gingham lining.

"I can't tell Gilbert!" Anne cried.

"There's nothing to do but tell Gilbert why you can't come to dinner, but I am not going to do it," Marilla said as she looked out the front window. "Davy's holding the horse for us, Rachel. Hurry up."

"Mrs. Lynde, can you give Gil some excuse at church?" Anne pleaded, walking with her to the door.

"Well, I could, but I won't," Mrs. Lynde replied. She paused at the door. "It is a real conundrum you've found yourself in, no doubt about that. Given who you are and who Gilbert is, I don't think the situation would be helped with a feeble excuse. You and Gilbert will be dealing with this matter most of your married lives. There's no point in delaying it. And you're in luck Anne, for I see him coming now."

Anne felt as if she were going to faint.

* / * / *

Marilla who still wanted to teach Anne a lesson about going around the house half-dressed told Gilbert when passing he could help himself inside, not knowing for sure if Anne would receive him. "She's fine Gilbert, she's flustered beyond belief, but perfectly fine otherwise. Help yourself in if she doesn't answer."

Marilla's reaction confused Gilbert, especially in contrast with his visit two days ago. He felt like a fly walking into a spider's web as he knocked on the oak door. There was no answer. Gilbert then proceeded inside and stood in the foyer a moment before calling.

"Anne?"

He was carrying a small gift his cousin Helen had bundled for Anne. She had insisted that he take it to her. All she said was Anne needed it.

"Anne," Gilbert said as he came deeper inside the abode. She saw him from down the hall and dread filled her eyes. Her red braids snapped left to right as she turned. He could hear her fret.

Gilbert had to know now what was happening. He went to the end of the corridor and found Anne in the kitchen.

"What is it, Anne? Why aren't you dressed for church?" He nudged her around to face him.

She thought he looked quite handsome, wearing the tie that matched his eyes. His handsome looks made her impossible task harder. "Gil, I'm not ready to go anywhere right now," she said a tad more dramatic than necessary.

"I can see that, Carrots," He tweaked her braids, but she pushed him away.

"I have a big problem right now. I can't talk to you about it." Anne said in tears. "I'd be so humiliated. I don't think I can come over for dinner today. I'm sorry."

"Anne, you have to come over!" Gilbert thought he already knew what might be the problem from Anne's rather watery response, but he played along nonchalantly. She would have to trust him with this and he was going to flatter her within an inch of her life when she did. So he pressed. "What am I goin' to tell Mother? You can't come over because you feel humiliated? That's not an excuse. Have you met my Mom? Tell me what's wrong Anne, please, tell me now!"

Anne felt how unmovable he was. She was going to have to tell him. "Marilla and Mrs. Lynde said that too, they said I should tell you, but I have no idea how to tell you."

Gilbert put his hands on Anne's shoulders and he spoke compassionately as she trembled. "Anne, you know I'm going to agree with the wise ladies of Green Gables. You can tell me anything."

"In theory, that's true, but I don't think we've ever really put it into practice. What's happening is not ever discussed in public."

"We're speaking in private right now, though," Gilbert pointed out. "It will be fine." He rubbed her shoulder to encourage her.

Anne wasn't so sure, and she chatted away as if she were a child again: "I do take comfort in the fact we're kindred spirits, and you love me, and the fact you want to be a doctor. But it's hard to override years and years of not speaking about such things, especially, with a man."

"Is it a female complaint?" Gilbert was a little bit too interested in Anne's agitation. His effort to not tease was only half-hearted. "Are you not feeling well?"

"Gilbert, I feel fine. No, the problem I'm having right now is," Anne's voice caught in her throat, her discomfort apparent. "Someone has taken my rags, and I can't come over to your place and be with your folks until I get sorted out."

Anne watched Gilbert's face process the statement. Oh! I see! was his exact expression. Until his impish grin appeared, spreading like a disease across his chin. How dare he express marvel! Her face was still hot with shame so again she turned away from him.

Slowly, she felt him touch her arm, pulling her into his circle. His touch made her quiver because she was not expecting such tenderness. Turning her and stooping, so their eyes were level, he engaged her attention.

"Anne, if you think it's escaped my notice that you're a woman, you're completely wrong. I am very aware that your loveliness comes with a certain inconvenience for you." He lifted her hand and bending low, like a knight, he kissed it. "Thank you for bearing Eve's curse. You are all the more beautiful for it."

Gilbert thought maybe he was a little over the top, as Anne gawked back at him in stunned disbelief. Yet, it had worked. Anne felt flooded with so much love from Gilbert that many years later she always felt sorry for their own daughters' decisions to not to tell him when they had passed girlhood.

Gilbert, having played his part as the hero to perfection, presented Anne with Helen's gift to her. "I have an idea that this will solve your problems. My cousin Helen is quite the Blythe. She has tremendous foresight. Some would say it's supernatural."

Anne unwrapped the gift, which was really a lump of fabric, squared off and knotted, to find out that Gilbert's hunch was correct.

* / * / *

"I don't understand who took them?" Gilbert said as Anne changed. They were talking through the closed door of Anne's room. Gilbert paced the hallways some, looking at the heirloom paintings and photographs on display. He smiled when he saw a needlework sampler of a bouquet of flowers that was monogrammed A.S. He didn't know she could embroider and crewel.

"I don't want to say," Anne said. "But it should be pretty obvious."

Gilbert next found himself looking at another needlework sampler. This time the initials D.K. were added to the corner. He had forgotten about Dora.

"Dora's too young according to my medical books."

"She's twelve isn't she," Anne said. "But she'd probably be very mortified if she knew you knew this about her, so…"

"Oh, Anne, you know I won't say a thing."

"Yes, I do, but as a former girl myself, not quite sure what was happening to me, I feel as if I ought to put up an effort."

"But she's too young. There are a couple of paragraphs devoted to this topic and the experts say…"

"Oh, pooh, your books. You don't know what you're talking about," Anne exited her room and stood before the door. She had combed out her thick auburn hair and put it into a quick French braid, letting the end show plainly down the middle of her back. She had on a dark brown poplin skirt, leather waist, and her good white blouse. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful," Gilbert swallowed, not able to look away from her. "You always look beautiful." His voice resonated with husky overtones and made the fine hairs on her arm stand up.

"Thank you for saying so," Anne suddenly felt really shy; faltering under the intensity of his gaze. It took her a moment to step around him for the stairs.

* / * / *

"Oh yes, Bertie! I see what you see in her. She is the one you told me about, yes?"

Anne Shirley dropped her jaw a bit as she was seated next to a woman who bore the prominent Blythe chin. She was dressed in mourning black and had short nut brown hair that curled. Gilbert introduced Anne to his first cousin, Helen, and they immediately said their "How do you dos." Leaning into Helen's space, Anne whispered, "Thank you for the things," and her new friend grinned back winking her vivid blue eye.

The Blythe homestead was a small, plain house and not used to having eight adults in it at one time. Anne knew this about Gilbert's home already, that it was cramped and cluttered. But she always loved visiting, even when they were first friends, because his parents were mellow, as Mrs. Lynde would say. It was a happy contrast to the primness of Green Gables that was so difficult to maintain.

Gilbert went and fetched his desk from his bedroom and set it to the end of the kitchen table to make a seating extension. His mother dropped a tablecloth on it and everyone was willing to pretend the tables were always meant to go together that way. It was perfectly fine that half of the seating was in the dining area and the other half in the kitchen.

Anne chatted with Helen a little bit to make conversation, or rather, Helen talked, answering the questions Anne hadn't spoken.

"You see dear Anne, yes, I know your question: It's not hard, you speak with your eyes. You see, Bertie stayed with us one summer to recuperate from healing Uncle John from that awful cough. And, he taught my sisters and me how to swallow air and make the noisiest of all belches. Us girls started to call him 'Burpee' and I guess somewhere along the line it mutated into Bertie, which is more polite and proper anyway. 'Gil' makes me think he's a fish."

"Well, I'm going to keep calling him Gil." Anne said, laughing, "But I rather appreciate the detail. It could be useful later if he vexes me." Privately Anne continued her laugh, thinking about how she was already too accustomed to the idea that Gilbert Blythe once had magical powers. Here she was stressing over the 'Bertie' nickname he was patiently enduring.

By this time Marilla had managed to squeeze into her place near the foot of the table, between Gilbert's mother, Geraldine and Geraldine's own brother, George Fletcher. Geraldine had steamed lobsters for the special occasion, and there were plenty of new potatoes cooked, it was Gilbert's favorite recipe. The Blythes weren't stingy with butter either. There was plenty of good food to enjoy. They were welcoming Anne into their household as their future daughter-in-law.

"John, will you say the blessing," Geraldine said. Marilla and Anne naturally bowed their heads and folded their hands before them. Gilbert got Anne's attention. In the Blythe house, they all held hands for the blessing. Marilla reluctantly held George Fletcher's hand. It was quite entertaining for Anne to watch.

John filled the plates and passed them down. Anne glimpsed at Marilla as she stared at her water goblet. Anne knew she was wondering how clean the glass was. Mrs. Blythe was renown for her housekeeping, but it wasn't in a good way. Marilla had already told Anne several times that she would have her work cut out keeping house for Gilbert. Gilbert had the untidy habits of his parents.

"So Anne," John Blythe started to say as he ripped open a lobster claw. "Gilbert tells me he's told you about our magic."

"Yes, Gil did say something about being a Blythe."

"Oh, I like how you put it," Helen said as she brushed cat hair off her black bodice. "That sounds so much better than saying you're cursed."

"Eh, stop it with the 'cursed' business. The 'curse' saved my life," Mr. Blythe scolded. Returning to Anne, "How did my son tell you exactly? Cuz Gil won't tell me."

Gilbert just sat there waiting to see how Anne would handle his father. He drank his water and also ate at his lobster. Anne was trying to not feel surreal.

"Well, if Gil won't say, then I'm not sure I should." Anne answered, "But it was done very thoughtfully."

She could see Gil's approval from the corner of her eye.

"Go ahead Anne, tell them." He said.

"Well, Gil here asked me to imagine our children and how'd I feel if they could do magic," Anne answered, trying to leave out some of the details. "Then he explained that it could really happen. Truthfully, I have no idea how I would raise our child if he were a Blythe, but I know I would love him just the same."

"Ah, you see!" Geraldine said. "That doesn't sound too hard."

"Hmmm," John said waving his lobster fork. "I think it's the hardest thing about being what we are, having to explain it to an outsider."

"John, I'm just saying it can be done," Geraldine said. "Gilbert, Anne, I am so happy that the two of you decided to marry. We are both glad, aren't we?"

"That's true!" John said. "We are really happy. The way this summer started sort of woke us up on what's important. Never-mind what the others wanted."

Anne looked at Gilbert confused. He whispered to her. "We'll talk."

"Anne's not an outsider though, not really," Helen said. "She will play a part in bringing Bertie's powers back."

Anne started to cough very, very hard: For a moment Gilbert thought she was actually choking. He rubbed her back and eventually Anne recovered.

"Do I dare ask what that means?" Anne ejected.

"I was actually hoping you could tell me, but Bertie's powers are coming back. I've seen it. The curse lives on."

"You've been saying that a bit too long now," Gilbert answered and his jaw jutted. Gilbert hardly lets anything bother him, but that was his tell when something did. "Now it just sounds like dramatic nonsense. I haven't held my breath for it. It would be a tremendous responsibility, to have such an active power."

"It's a blessing: Our parents did a lot of good with it, too: It gave Uncle David his start in medicine." Mrs. Fletcher said.

"At least you would get to decide when to use your powers, with some exceptions," Helen said. "I'm thrown high and low with visions that come without any sort of provocation. I do get nice insights that have helped me, but the warnings, oh, I tell you, it is terrible to know something dreadful is coming and not be able to do a thing about it."

"I just remember that it wasn't consistent," Gilbert said. "Like healing Dad, it was so hard because he was family. The block before me was terrible."

Marilla who was keeping a close watch on a house cat wandering the parlor attempted to change the subject. "Geraldine, these potatoes you made are rather nice. Did you grow them here?"

"No, my brother gave me a bushel from his crop."

"I've got more Miss Cuthbert if you'd like." Mr. Fletcher said. "Can't sell them at the markets as demand is so low right now."

"That's very generous of you," Marilla answered. "But Green Gables has our own crop right now, we are having the same troubles you are with the markets."

Anne buttered her roll and tried to pay attention to the conversation, yet was not able to draw her eyes away from Helen. She had grown very quiet. Her bright blue eyes were fixed on some unknown point before her. Gilbert noticed as well.

"Oh, she's doing it again," Mrs. Fletcher said. "Lordy, she looks like mother used to when she'd get her visions."

"What's wrong?" Anne asked. "Helen, are you feeling ill?" She touched Helen's shoulder. Helen shivered in response. Her bright blue eyes robotically narrowed in on Anne. She felt Helen reading her mind, looking for an answer that Anne could not yield.

"No, I'm not alright," Helen said. "I need to lie down."

Gilbert escorted Helen to the spare bedroom.

In the privacy of the room, Helen clung to his arm and said to him in a shaky whisper, "Gilbert, you must save the baby. You won't know what to do when it happens, but you must save the baby."

"What baby?" Gilbert asked.

Helen did not explain.

* / * / *

It was teatime when Helen felt well enough to rejoin her family. Marilla had excused herself with the comment that Davy and Dora needed assistance with their Catechism lesson. It was a thinly veiled excuse, but no one seemed to be too offended.

Gilbert and the other men were in the middle of making ice cream, taking turns with the wooden churn. Anne and Helen decided to go for a walk. Helen said she needed fresh air. Anne agreed that the house was overrun with the smells of cooked shellfish. The Blythes lived near a beach and Anne always enjoyed its view.

It had been a long time since she had been out that way, but she remembered the path she and Gilbert used to walk. The first time Gilbert took her there he tried to hold her hand and she did not respond positively to his advance. Today she could understand why Gilbert had been moved to make the attempt. It was a very picturesque place, for the sunshine filtered through the mist, dispersing the light evenly. The red dirt landscape accented the white sandy shore, and the gulls practice gliding, banking their descent from the bluffs surrounding.

Helen seemed captivated as she stared out into the ocean. "I'm jealous of you, Anne," she said with a forced smile. "I am ever so jealous of any woman with a proper education. You don't have to rely on a man to support you if you don't want. My parents wouldn't let me go to school; I taught myself to read by sheer determination, but I could sew well. I made my life on that. With my parents help, I had a good business in New Brunswick, until Lynn went away."

"And who was Lynn?" Anne asked, glad to listen to what-ever Helen had to say.

"Lynn is my everything," Helen said. "But we couldn't marry, so that is that. I wonder if I had a better education if things would have been different. That is my point, not to grieve but to express admiration for your accomplishments. Bertie said you graduated with honors."

"He did too, but thank you for your sentiments. You seem smart enough if you wanted to go to university you could. I could tutor you if you like. I am a principal now. I know how to get you into college."

Helen laughed. "Yes, I suppose, but I doubt I would graduate. I'm fairly certain that I shall die in a year or two."

Anne looked horrified. "You can't possibly know that for certain, even with your gifts."

"I suppose there's a chance I'm wrong about this path I'm on, but, I don't think so. It hasn't been wrong so far."

"Do you wish to talk about it?"

"I just want you to know my story before you hear it from other people," Helen said. "There are things Bertie hasn't told you yet. Like did you know my parents and some others have wanted us to marry! They want some sort of super witch child! Trust me, your happy news is a welcomed relief. The idea is so ridiculous to us I'm not surprised you weren't told. But it was the scandal that really freed me from my parent's intentions.

"I foresaw my wild and exhilarating romance and I also foresaw the price I would pay for it. I could have avoided the uproar, but I couldn't deny myself such blissful happiness. Everyone needs to fall madly in love once in their life, don't you agree? I see you do. For seven months we were together. Then Lynn and I were discovered in bed together. Lynn's parents forced her to move to New Jersey to escape the shame. Oh, I see you are shocked. Don't be shocked, we were truly in love. The scandal while mostly private certainly was terrible. I would have been completely cast off if it weren't for this blessed curse! There are some Blythes that think I matter only for that reason, so here I am, relocating. Away from my friends and everything I know.

"My powers cling to her still. She recently had a baby, I felt her pains and joy, and I know she loves me still. She named her daughter after me, but if I could cleanly sever this connection to her I would. The greatest love there is is the ability to let go. I'm afraid though only in death will that happen. When I look out on the sea, I feel like there lies the answer."

If Anne had ever entertained the passing thought she was getting used to strange confessions from the Blythe family, she thought the better of it at that moment.

"What did you mean when you said that I would help Gil get his powers back?"

"He clings to you just like I cling to Lynn," Helen said. "When he described you to me at first I thought you could be like us, but I don't think you are. Yet, you're not quite as pedestrian as say, Uncle George. You are a paradox. You're not magic yet you attract it. You have no idea how lovely you are in his eyes. I can see why. You make everything around you work for the good. And you probably don't realize it, which makes you very sincere."

* / * / *

Later that afternoon Anne and Gilbert found some time to sit together under an apple tree in the orchard. Gilbert had brought some of the ice cream he helped churn. Anne rubbed his achy arm as a means of thanks.

"I wish you would have told me about Helen before," Anne said. "She said her parents want you to marry her."

Gilbert spooned ice cream into his mouth. "That's true. And there's a lot of things I would do for Helen. I would help her just about any way I could, but I could never, ever marry her." He brushed Anne's face, tucking back a stray hair. "I'm not her cup of tea, anyway."

"Yes, she told me about that too," Anne said, "I've heard of such things at Redmond. I know that there were some that thought that about me, going off to get an education fit for a man. I won't lie, I thought the rumor was from Charlie Sloane after I refused him. But I love the company of men, especially one man with hazel eyes."

Anne also took another spoonful of ice cream, savoring its coolness drizzling down her throat.

Gilbert thought his heart was melting.

"You've had a hard day, haven't you, Anne-girl?" He pulled her close to him. She lounged back on his person, her back supported by his embrace. Anne sighed peacefully and she nodded off a bit.

Gilbert set aside his dish, but when he did so he felt something sticking to his hand. Thinking that it was a wayward drop of ice cream, he tried to brush it off. Then he saw what it was. Anne's shadow was adhering to his fingers. Helen was right, his magic was coming back.

to be continued