Timeline - Anne of Windy Poplars, The First Year. This chapter occurs before chapter 8.

Chapter 7: You Amaze Me

The next day three weary-eyed passengers; Anne Shirley, Mrs. Rachel Lynde and Gilbert Blythe, boarded a small, yellow, and sea-salt crusted ferry named Tick-Tock. The 'Double T' as she was called by the local captains would take them to Charlottetown. From there they would take the train back to Carmody, and Gilbert's father and Davy Keith would fetch them home. The journey wouldn't be as long as it would feel, for this unlikely band of travelers also had to contend with sheer exhaustion and horrendous cold. The weather was unfit for man and beast, yet all three of them were head-strong enough to persevere. They wanted to be home for Christmas. So they mustered through their itinerary without complaint.

Anne Shirley led the three up an uncertain gangplank. One gray-mitten hand held her hat: the other hand steadied their elder, Mrs. Lynde. Gilbert followed behind, making sure that Mrs. Lynde did not slip on the wet surface of the narrow bridge. The ocean was upset, bubbling as if it were a boil. The icy water sprayed upwards from choppy waves making their feet victims of a frigid baptism. The little ship bobbed. Gilbert looked back to the steady mooring, wondering if they should return to the hotel. The women were not as unsure. They strode quickly forward. Once embarked, Mrs. Lynde announced her intention to stay below and Gilbert followed her downstairs in agreement.

He was quite relieved to discover it was very warm below the deck. There were three large furnaces roaring to combat the weather and a food stand to soothe anxious passengers with peanuts and hot tea. Mrs. Lynde dropped herself into the care of a large, orange upholstered chair determined to not move a muscle. She too scanned the room and frowned when she counted only two of their gang.

"Gilbert Blythe," Mrs. Lynde started on him, "Where did Anne go? Don't tell me she's determined to stay on deck?"

"She's probably saying goodbye to Kingsport," Gilbert guessed.

Anne was miffed with him over his reported conversation with Hugo Hammond. Her refusal to go below deck was taken it a bit far. He thought she would have gotten over it by now.

Mrs. Lynde shook her head as her mind imposed the vision of Anne standing next to the ship's railing, waving adieu to the city and Redmond College. "You better get her down here before she freezes to death," Mrs. Lynde ordered. "She has no sense about these things."

Gilbert re-adjusted his black hat and scarf as he scaled the wooden stairs, bracing himself for a blast of arctic air. Anne was easy to spot, she was the only woman brave enough to bear the sub-zero chill. She stood near the railing on the starboard side and leaned over to watch the waves splash up on the faded yellow hull of the ship. Gilbert crept up next to her, purposefully putting himself in the wind, blocking its cruel attack on Anne.

"There's nothing you can say that will move me away from this spot," Anne warned through rattling teeth. "I don't care how cold it is, and you made a mistake last night."

"Anne," Gilbert said, trying his darnedest to not let her know she could get so under his skin. "I'm glad you're being stubborn right now. It will be easier to talk to you about Mrs. Lynde when you won't come downstairs."

Anne turned her head towards him, registering an interest in his thoughts, her gray eyes were large and her lashes laden with frost. She waited. Sometimes she got better answers when she refused to even ask questions.

"My uncle, actually, my great uncle, Dr. David Blythe has a practice near Four Winds Harbor. He's..." Gilbert quickly checked for nearby listeners, "….a healer like me. Now, he's not as powerful as I am, but, he does still have some of that old juice left. What do you think if we get Mrs. Lynde to him, and I assist if needed?"

Anne's breath frosted white between them as she exhaled, "If you can convince her to see him, that might work." She jammed her hands into her coat pockets. "But you'll have your work cut out for you I'm afraid. She can be quite unmovable once her mind is set."

"Will you come downstairs with me and help?" Gilbert asked. "Please?"

Anne showed him her profile, "No. Not until I feel I have permission from the sea to do so. It's speaking to me, in its strange way. I wonder if I am descended from mariners? It's like it knows my own language. And it's not so bad out here. I'm not the only one braving the elements you know."

Gilbert widened his perspective to incorporate the few ship-hands at work. He wondered how anyone could make seafaring a career, especially in their harsh climate. The men seemed under-dressed in the icy wind and they worked without gloves. Their hands were bright red with cold and covered with callouses and abrasions. Just looking at them work sent shivers down his spine. To Gilbert, there was nothing endearing about the seaman's way of life some islanders felt so compelled to live.

"Anne, don't be silly. It's freezing up here. It's no place for a lady," He insisted.

Anne stubbornly stayed put just as she warned. Giving up for the moment, but not for the trip, Gilbert returned downstairs. He was glad to be out of the wind and his nose started to run as his body warmed. At the small kiosk, he purchased two cups of piping hot tea.

"I see you failed to bring Anne down," Mrs. Lynde said. "Well, she's stubborn alright! How long did it take her to forgive you for calling her 'Carrots' again? What was it, five years?"

Gilbert shrugged. He and Anne for the rest of their lives would be called to remember that infamous day which featured Anne's slate and his hard head. He handed Mrs. Lynde an unsolicited cup of hot tea with a remark to point out her contrary personality. "And the pot says the kettle's black."

It took a moment for Mrs. Lynde to register his commentary. She glowered at him as he confirmed her understanding. "Oh, I am not that stubborn," Mrs. Lynde said exasperatedly. "I can be persuaded to change my mind if there's a good argument behind it."

"Really?" Gilbert said as he breathed in the tea's steam. The fragrance of bergamot helped open his sinuses and his face thawed. "Will you let me ask you something then?"

"About Anne?" Mrs. Lynde grinned, hoping she was about to receive a Gilbert inspired, romantic reflection of his betrothed.

"No, not about Anne. About you of course."

"I supposed you can ask me, but I don't promise to answer."

"Mrs. Lynde, I know you're sick," Mrs. Lynde's expressed surprise mixed with worry, and then shame as she saw his face grow concerned. "It's your right to not take care of yourself, you know. But if you think you're fooling me, Marilla or Anne, you're wrong. I don't need to be a medical student to see you're losing weight much too quickly." Gilbert brought his own cup to his lips and continued to watch her react.

Mrs. Lynde scowled back and her brown eyes flamed in defiance. She admitted her condition to Gilbert by not arguing with him over it but said, "There's nothing to be done. I've had a long life, Gilbert Blythe. I've seen this before, in my family and in others."

"You can't possibly know what's wrong with you unless you've seen a doctor," Gilbert asked. "Have you seen a doctor? Or are you playing doctor, making assumptions that could be wildly wrong."

Mrs. Lynde put her cup of tea down. She was slower to return his gaze. It pained her to continue her thoughts aloud. "I've been praying about this for a long time and I feel certain this is God's hand. It's Providence calling me home, little by little. And if that's the case, there's nothing a doctor can do to stop it."

"Well, and this is just my opinion, Mrs. Lynde; I think you owe it to yourself, and your children, to know the truth. You just have your instinct, and sometimes, instincts, they can mislead you. So, I'm asking you please, will you let me help you?"

"How?" Mrs. Lynde verbally tossed back with bold vibrato, "Being at medical school for one term hardly makes you qualified."

"Yes, you're right," Gilbert admitted. "I'm not a doctor, yet, but I do know more about medicine than you do. If I see value in going to a physician, why can't you? I know for a fact that if it were someone else sick, you'd be all over them to go."

"You've got me there," Mrs. Lynde confirmed. "I would be on the warpath if it were Marilla, but..."

"No buts about it," Gilbert interrupted. "You just agreed with me. Now, why is something good enough for Marilla and not good enough for you?"

"I guess I don't want others to know," Mrs. Lynde said. "Avonlea gossip can be cruel."

"I promise to be discreet. I give you my word, but just say yes, let me help."

"If it means so much to you, Gilbert." Mrs. Lynde drank the rest of her cup. "I get to be your first patient?"

"Well, sure," Gilbert hid his relief. "Under the supervision of my uncle, Dr. David Blythe, I'll be glad to help you."

Atop deck, Anne Shirley stood and stared over the iron railing into the distance trying to see the shoreline of Prince Edward Island. She knew she was being sentimental, for she had only been off the island for a day, but she was determined to keep her solemn pledge that she would always greet her adoptive homeland as a friend. She couldn't do that from below. She had to behold the land the loved her back.

She thought she could see the slightest break in monotony along the horizon when she heard Gilbert walk behind her.

"Mrs. Lynde is resting downstairs Anne," Gilbert said, putting his hand on her shoulder and standing next to her. "You should be below deck too, this wind is too sharp."

Anne looked at his hand on her shoulder. She was not done being upset with him yet. "Gilbert Blythe, you amaze me sometimes." She shrugged off his hand.

Gilbert also got a bit defensive, raising his hands up but not touching her, saying, "There was nothing else to do but tell him."

"I suppose," Anne said. "I agree you saved them a lot of pain in the future."

"You mean you're mad at me even when you agree with me?!" Gilbert said. "I'm so confused. You said it was a mistake."

Anne's forehead creased, "I don't know if 'mistake' is the right word anymore. I can't say you made a mistake, exactly, but I do think you didn't put enough thought into your decision to inform Hugo of Marcus' activities. 'Blunder' is a better word." Anne wrapped her gray scarf tighter around her face as the wind picked up. "I think that's why I'm upset with you. You have to look at the entire picture, Gil. I don't think you did."

Gilbert leaned on the iron railing and he let the wind capture the brown wisps of his curls that stuck out from under his hat.

"If you were Ella, wouldn't you want to know?" He thought for sure Ella would want to know. "How can she plan a future for herself if she doesn't know? Something like that is going to come out eventually-either when an illegitimate child or even with a social disease. This way she has a chance to steer clear."

"Gil, I don't think she has much of a choice though. Perhaps ignorance is bliss in this case. Didn't you listen to the things she was telling us at dinner? She's marrying into her best friend's family. A family that helped her and her twin when they probably had nowhere else to go. How can she refuse him or his terms? For Ella, being married to a doctor probably sounds pretty secure, even if it means putting up with Marcus' dalliances. Where would she go if without them? Trust me on this, you can only be hungry so long before you just don't care."

Gilbert was stunned at Anne's explanation. Feebly, he said, "I just thought it was the chivalrous thing to do. The right thing to do. Even with the weight you've added, I still think it was the right choice, but you do have a good argument."

"Luckily you told Hugo and not Ella directly. That was wise. Hugo should be able to read her situation a lot better than you or I."

"Next time, I'll talk with you," Gilbert resolved. "I swear. You can always think of something I can't. It's one of the reasons why I love you. You challenge me, but please don't be mad at me for it, not anymore."

"I'm just plain too cold to stay vexed with you, Gil. And even if I were still mad, I am more than capable of loving you in spite of it."

Anne started to shiver and Gilbert wrapped himself around her to keep her warm. Gilbert found Anne's complete lack of self-awareness as she nestled in his arms heart-warming. Eventually, he asked, "Will you now come downstairs with me? I can't have you sick. And, I got Mrs. Lynde to agree to go with me and see my uncle."

They all warmed up on the train which helped them survive the last leg of their travels, for the sleigh ride back home from Carmody was treacherous. The wind was strong enough to pick up snowpack and make new drifts. They had to drive straight into the whirling ice to get to Avonlea. Once sheltered, Anne and Mrs. Lynde stood like concrete statues near the oak front door. Their arms extended and teeth chattering away. Marilla and Dora peeled off their ice-filled wraps and dragged them to the heat of the parlor's fire. Meanwhile, Davy and Gilbert unloaded Anne's and Mrs. Lynde's trunks from Mr. Blythe's sleigh as their hired man drove the team into the protection of the barn.

Davy came in and received no help from with his wraps. He sat on the bench and leaned forward to remove his warm work boots as Gilbert stuck his head inside and called for Anne.

Her nose and cheeks were a merry crimson now as she came out of the parlor back to the foyer. She had let her hair down, and it fell gracefully over her shoulder. She laughed at Gil's snow-covered exterior, was only able to recognize his voice, and thought of how harrowing a journey they had all survived.

"Give me some heat," he said, approaching her for a kiss like a love-starved snow monster.

Poor Davy Keith received quite the education in kissing as he was trapped between the door and the engaged couple. Anne initially only registered how thoroughly cold Gilbert was as the snow flaked off of him and on to her warmer skin. When she heard Davy uncomfortably shuffle nearby, Anne remembered how she promised Marilla to exercise more restraint before the twins. But, oh goodness! She had forgotten to tell Gilbert.

"Gilbert, we're not alone!" Anne said, rubbing his chin to stop him. She could taste a faint hint of his peppermint.

Gilbert stopped trying to kiss Anne at the sight of Davy on the bench. The young sir was blushing horribly for them both. His eyes were bigger than Anne's! At last, he was able to turn his head away. "Gilbert, I think your Dad is calling for you."

"Then that was a kiss definitely stolen," Gilbert said. "I need to go, Dad's waiting! Tomorrow?"

"Sure! Be safe Gil!" Anne said as she stood and waved him off.

After Anne closed the door and re-positioned its draft stopper, she turned to Davy, who was busy putting his coat on his peg.

"Davy," Anne whispered. "Would you do me a favor and not mention what you saw to Marilla..or Mrs. Lynde?"

"Can that be my Christmas present to you and Gilbert?" Davy asked back. His blond hair was rumpled from his knitted hat. He still seemed distracted.

"Davy, you don't have to give me anything for Christmas, but if you could keep quiet about what you just saw, I would be most grateful," Anne said.

"Anne?" Davy said, raising his eyebrows so high that Anne thought Davy might be disfigured. "Do all boys kiss girls like that?" He then turned his worried eyes towards the parlor, where Dora, Marilla, and Mrs. Lynde talked. His concerned tone confused Anne.

Ambiguously Anne explained, "Only if the girl is lucky." And then she couldn't hide her smile. "I'm very lucky, you know."

Davy seemed to be more agitated now. "But you're older. A lot older than Dora, so that makes it alright."

Anne now started to feel uneasy. What did Dora have to do with this? She was about to ask him.

Seeing Anne's question coming, he changed the subject, adopting a more boyish cheer, "D'you know the Blythe's sent us a dozen oranges for Christmas! Marilla made Dora and me save them for tonight."

Helen and Gilbert knocked on Green Gables' door the next mid-morning. Helen was feeling pretty down, and Gilbert was keeping her company. They had walked over from the Blythe homestead leaving a path of footsteps in the crunchy snow drifts. The cold snap was over, the wind was still, and the temperature almost balmy in comparison to the day before. Gilbert informed Anne how the Haunted Wood was returning to life as Helen found herself listening at the kitchen table, her head supported by her hand. He painted a pretty picture of small animals scampering out from their cozy dens and foraging for food, finding only snow where-ever they looked.

Anne baked for Christmas day. She imagined how lovely the tiny icicles hung from the branches and how frosted the dark brown tree trunks were. She felt sorry for the ferns and heather that nestled in natural wallows under layers of snow. The frozen bed would one day melt and they would spring back. She wanted to go outside and see for herself but she was stuck making sweets in her big yellow apron with the large pockets and frilly ruffles.

"Where is everyone?" Helen asked. "I thought you had people filled to the brim here."

"Everyone is out and about, just like the woodland creatures, trying to get things done while the weather is good. Marilla and Mrs. Lynde are at a Ladies' Aid meeting. No doubt Mrs. Lynde will talk about the dance to no end." Looking to Gilbert, "I wonder what things we'll hear second and third hand? Davy's supposed to be clearing drifts off the roofs of the outbuildings, and I think Dora is with Minnie May skating on the Lake of Shining Waters. Today is a perfect day to strap on blades and whirl like ballerinas on ice."

"So, you're alone then?" Helen said, looking back to her cousin and then to Anne. "Would you like me to get lost for an hour?"

Anne grinned at the thought of possible impropriety between herself and Gilbert. "I've got too much going on here with these sugar cookies and pies. We've seen quite a bit of each other these last two days. I think I might be sick of him." She said, giving him a small wink.

Gilbert went over to Anne and started pulling hairpins from her bun, remembering how pretty it was when he kissed her goodbye last night. "Sick..did you say? It's a good thing I'm going into medicine then." Anne rounded on him as her long red braids fell down from her head. "Hello, Carrots!"

She was mad for about two seconds, and then she just wanted to play back in response to his provocation. "I wish you'd stop that," Anne jested as she tried to grab her hairpins back. Gilbert teased her further, holding them up high and out of her reach. Anne was not above giving him a bit of chase in pursuit of her belongings. Helen cleared her throat and gave them a disapproving look with her piercing blue eyes. Reluctantly, Gilbert allowed Anne to catch him, which led to a quick apology, and an equally quick kiss.

Anne started to rework her braids back into its neat pile. Helen's eyes were a bit misty now and Anne wondered what she might have done to have upset her. Was it their display of affection?

"Oh, yes, I supposed it is that," Helen answered Anne before she could ask. "And then's there the fact that my powers are slipping on me. Lynn barely remembers me anymore. She loves her baby and she loves her husband and she loves her new life. I'm so sad it's causing my abilities to break."

Anne wiped her hands with a towel. "I'm sorry Helen." Anne had no idea what else to say.

"Well, since we're on the subject of magic," Gilbert cut in. "Uncle Dave will be in Avonlea tomorrow and the next day for Christmas, and I thought, we could heal Mrs. Lynde then. Does Mrs. Lynde have plans away?"

Anne shrugged.

"She doesn't know," Helen interpreted.

"Yeah, I figured that out," Gilbert chuckled. "That's really annoying, you know."

"I'll explain to Marilla. Bring him by for tea," Anne suggested as she walked backward.

"Anne, watch where you're going!" Helen suddenly warned.

Anne turned awkwardly and realized that she was closer to the hot stove than she thought. She tried to change her momentum but was unsuccessful as she fell, her bare hand slapping down on the hot cooking surface. Her skin sizzled. Gilbert and Helen watched in horror as Anne slumped on her side. She groaned in agony clutching her blistering hand.

Gilbert begged Anne to show him, and when she did, he had just barely touched it when he felt the magical release that would heal it. It was a strange, calming feeling that absolved Anne from so much pain, the sudden relief brought about more soft tears. Gilbert kept his hand over hers, and finally, Anne looked at it and saw it was fine. She wiped her eyes dry with the back of it.

"Thank God you were here," Anne said getting up, with a little help from Gil. "Thank you."

She was still shaking from the experience, blown away from the strangeness of being healed supernaturally. There were still moments where Anne was certain she would never get used to the fact that Gilbert had these powers. She had those uncertain thoughts privately, never in front of him until that moment. As a result, her face looked more frightened than thankful. She instantly regretted what her countenance revealed, for she saw the hurt on Gilbert's face. She was sorry, but she was human too.

Helen sighed and Gilbert was disappointed, even though he understood she was trying valiantly to walk his reality without hesitation. They had never really talked about it since that fateful day last fall when he told her about being a Blythe.

"Can I ask you two something about your magic?" Anne asked. "Maybe it will feel less mysterious if I start asking you questions. I've been wondering for a while now. Is there a reason why you Helen, are just a seer and you Gilbert, are just a healer? Gil, I know you said you could do more when you're little."

Gilbert deferred to Helen who grew up with more magical guidance, her father, after all, could bi-locate. She explained, "You're stronger when you're little, so you can do more, but once you start sensing your talents, you develop a taste—so to speak, for what you like. I suppose if I really, really wanted to, I could heal someone, but it would be horribly hard because my magical muscles are geared in one direction now. It's a completely different focus."

Anne looked at Gilbert and he nodded in agreement. "I chose to heal though. I've heard Mother say again and again how I used to levitate things in the house, and for a long time, our grandparents said I had psychokinesis. But what good is bending spoons when my father was so sick and my mother hated that ability. So I just focused on healing and it stuck. I don't think I could do anything else, except that old trick, Granddad showed us."

Helen almost squealed as she laughed outright. "Oh, Grandfather and his shadow collection! How he used to torture us with the horrors in that box!" And even Gilbert had to chuckle.

"I've been thinking a lot about why my powers came back Anne," Gilbert continued. "I know it's because of you. I've admitted that for a while, but I think, maybe it's because you're an orphan, you have a connection to the other side of the veil, where our energies derive, and that helped."

"A lot of people have that," Anne said reasonably. It was probably the only reasonable statement of the last few minutes. "You don't need to be an orphan to have lost loved ones."

"Well, I don't know what it is then," Gilbert said. "What do you think, Helen?"

"I think you'll drive yourself insane trying to put logic into the illogical. When will Miss Cuthbert and Mrs. Lynde be back? The Christmas elves have some questions."

"Pretty soon, I think," Anne answered, as she arranged the perfectly round sugar cookies out on clean kitchen towels. Gilbert helped himself to one as Anne checked the apple pies cooling by the window.

From above they heard a thump which brought down some dust from the high ceiling. Anne panicked to cover the food. Gilbert quizzically stuck his head out the side door and saw a ladder wedged up against the gable end of the house.

"I think Davy is on the roof," Gilbert said back to the ladies.

"Marilla does not want him up there," Anne stated. "He was just supposed to clear the roofs of the outbuildings; mainly the potato cribs and coops. Does he have a rope? The pitch is steep."

Gilbert went for his wraps. Anne and Helen heard the sound of more footsteps above and then heavier steps when Gilbert joined him. Then from the corner of her eye, Anne saw Marilla's sleigh pull up to the house. Why was it nothing happened for the longest time and then suddenly everything happened in one great commotion? She had to get Davy and Gilbert off the roof. Marilla was pointing up at them and looking rather cross when Anne appeared outside. Anne threw her hands up in the air in her "what now" pose miming her intention to call them down.

Mrs. Lynde extracted herself from the sleigh and joined Anne as they started to bark upwards at the boys. Mrs. Lynde was properly dressed to be outside. She had on her best coat with fur trimmings. Anne hadn't bothered for she meant to go in after making her admonishments.

"Davy! Gilbert! Please come down now," Anne said.

Gilbert leaned over the ledge and looked down at Anne. Anne stepped forward closer to the house, to hear him better.

"Just a second, there's a rather big branch up here Davy's trying to pull down. It's covered in snow and ice."

Anne licked her dry lips and they chapped in the winter breeze. She stared forward at the house's green siding. She heard Mrs. Lynde approaching, she too looked up and shouted absurdly. "Just leave it, let it warm up more before removing it!"

"Watch out!" Gilbert said.

Anne looked up again to see a bird take sudden flight. The edge of the roof began to shift. There was a rumbling of movement, like a scraping of a knife on a plate. Before she knew it an avalanche of snow, ice and branch came down on her and Mrs. Lynde. She heard herself make a strange noise. A sound that hit Gilbert's ears with much grief. The last thing she saw was the odd shape of Mrs. Lynde collapsing before the lights went out.

to be continued