Odyssey

Matthew was home from hospital at last and slowly recuperating under Marilla's tender care. He could see his happy place, the barn from his bedroom window. It had been his place of solace all his life. The tools, the machinery, the stock his oldest friends, but since his heart attack he'd been too weak to make it out there unless he was accompanied by one woman or another, either Marilla, Anne or Rachel. It was frustrating. There were things a man just needed to do, things of which his womenfolk had no understanding. Sure, they'd let him wander around but they'd stand waiting for him. He could hear their fingers drumming against the doorway. They told him he had all the time in the world, but it was impossible to ignore them standing there. All Matthew wanted was to lose himself there in some project or another like in the old days. Instead he was mollycoddled to within an inch of his life and he was frustrated, short tempered and downright snippy. Marilla chastised him for it which made him feel worse.

Today was the day he decided a visit to the barn under his own steam was in order. It felt like a jailbreak, he'd waited until Marilla was in the bathroom; the door giving its familiar click when it closed behind her and in one swift motion he got out of bed and threw some clothes on. His boots were in their usual spot outside the door and he shuffled them on and walked as fast as he could manage. Once there he took a while to recover; in his race to get away he'd misjudged the energy he'd need.

He took his time to reacquaint himself with the lower floor. He knew the ladder was beyond his abilities right now the upper level would wait until another day, there was plenty to occupy him down here. Lightly tracing his fingers over each tool, he made their acquaintance again. Like old friends they were, each with their own history. He knew when each one had been brought or bequeathed. This one from his father, or that one from the mercantile in town. His father had sent away for the chainsaw, Matthew decided that it needed an oiling. The axe handle was smooth from years of first his father's and then his own hands hefting it against timber. There was a familiar bump in the shaft the result of an old knot in the wood that could never be quite smoothed over.

Marilla had been busy in the kitchen. After his attack the doctors had talked to them about diet and told them that the over-processed food they'd been eating was not ideal. She had fixed a nice afternoon tea with low fat cookies. She figured Matthew must be sleeping, all was quiet in his room. Knocking gently, she entered the room stopping in the doorway when it was obvious it was empty. Marilla looked at the room in bewilderment, where had he got to?

She looked in all the obvious places but he was not in the house. She called out, her panic growing, thinking where he could be? Eventually she located him in the barn hunched over the chainsaw covered in grease. He looked up at her almost defiantly. Marilla put her head in her hands and pressed against her eyes with her thumb and forefinger and heaved a big sigh. Matthew turned his head back towards the chainsaw to sharpen another tooth. "It's afternoon teatime," Marilla said flatly. "Care to join me?"

Wiping his hands on a cloth, Matthew got to his feet with Marilla's help. They made their way back to the house silently. If Matthew leaned somewhat more heavily on Marilla's arm than he might have a few months earlier, she made no comment. After a sip of his tea and a munch on a dry cookie Matthew yawned widely. "You are not getting back into bed in that state," Marilla said. "Go and shower first." Later when he was tucked back in bed; happy that he had been out but really rather exhausted by his exertions they talked. "You scared me," Marilla said.

"I'm sorry. I had ta get out," Matthew explained.

"You'd been there before?"

"I needed to be on my own. I can't have you …" he searched for the right word. "Hoverin'."

"Matthew, I nearly lost you. I can't bear to …"

Matthew reached out his hand to placate her, "I know, but ya gotta let me live. I can't stay wrapped in cotton wool the rest of my days."

"I know, I know. It's hard," Marilla gripped his hand back.

"I'll be careful, I'll rest when I need ta. I promise I won't push myself." She looked at him and nodded. "You know I was happier today than I've been for a long time. I felt useful, ya know. Like I accomplished somethin'. That chainsaw was awful blunt, now if I…" she looked at him sharply. "Or anyone else," he said correcting himself, "needs it. It's right to go. Just cos I'm laid up, I don't want the place to fall inta ruin. I love it too much," he yawned as he said the last sentence.

Marilla got to her feet and patted him on the shoulder. "Sleep now and in the morning, you can go and work some more." Matthew nodded at her and closed his eyes.


"Perhaps never in human history has the entire world been united by such a global drama," Walter Kronkite's sonorous voice projected out of the television as they all sat around the living room watching ardently.

"Buzz and Neil managed to get home, I'm sure they can manage this time," Anne said to no one in particular.

Strange how quickly complacency set in. Only last year they had watched the moon landing. With quite the rigmarole they had moved the television into Matthew's bedroom that warm July day, and sat around with him propped up in his bed watching with amazement as the astronauts skipped lightly over the moon's grey dusty surface taking photos of each other, playing ball and gathering moon rocks. It was completely surreal to see those suited men playing on the surface of another world. When Neil Armstrong made that momentous statement, 'one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind,' they all cheered feeling as one with their southern cousins.

The extended Lynde family had celebrated the Moon Landing too; the whole clan crammed into the living room, sitting on couches, chairs, the floor, beanbags, each other. Rather than watching Rachel had been busy serving food and drink. Thomas had kicked her when she obstructed his view momentarily and she leaned against the kitchen bench as tears came to her eyes, but he was yelling for another drink almost immediately. She brushed her tears aside as she opened the icebox and located another beer. He took it without letting his eyes leave the screen, he just dropped his empty can on the floor and put his hand out for the next. It went without saying that Rachel would put a full one in his outstretched hand and pick up the empty. Thomas was excited that night and pounded into her with more gusto than usual despite the fact that Rachel was exhausted after her busy day. Since when had he ever cared about her?

That had seemed the most dangerous moment in Earth's history, but the world held its collective breath as the stricken Apollo 13 space craft stuttered back to earth; each major set-back explained in intricate detail. Jammed onto the sofa Rachel joined the Cuthberts as they watched the projected trajectory of the small rocket marvelling that anyone could survive in the vast vacuum of space encased in what was essentially a tin can. Rachel was acutely aware of Marilla's thigh pressed against hers; the weight of its skinny firmness jammed next to her fuller version. It was slightly uncomfortable yet delicious all the same and she couldn't help feeling tendrils of excitement curling around her abdomen.

Marilla glanced away from the television momentarily her eyes flickering at Rachel. The wait was interminable as the space craft entered Earth's atmosphere. Yet another precarious moment for the crew after a dangerous week. The static crackling on the television was interspersed with words from Walter Kronkite, "this is the critical moment. Will the heat shield hold? Will the command module survive the intense heat of reentry? If it doesn't there'll only be silence." They waited with baited-breath for a sign, any sign. Marilla couldn't bear it anymore she got to her feet on the pretence of finding some sustenance. Matthew and Anne barely noticed her leave as they watched the TV raptly. Rachel did and followed to check she was alright.

The kitchen was empty, just a few cups and saucers on the draining board last night's pot soaking. Rachel eventually located her in the pantry leaning back on the countertop her breast heaving. She went to her at once, "what's up Marilla? Are you okay?" Marilla made no audible answer instead she pulled Rachel to her and pressed her lips close.

"Expected time of reacquisition, the time when the astronauts were expected to come out of blackout has come and gone. About all any of us can do now is just listen and hope," dimly Kronkite's voice could be heard from the living room.

The stricken astronauts were forgotten as Rachel and Marilla kissed in the pantry. Fingers tongues avidly finding each other, hair mussed and lipstick smudged; all that mattered was the glorious being in their arms. Distantly they could hear Matthew and Anne cheering but they could have been on the moon themselves for all the notice they took.

Eventually they returned to the sitting room out of breath and a little shaky. Rachel noticed a stray hair that had escaped Marilla's ponytail and tucked it back behind her neck, lingering perhaps slightly longer over the gesture than was strictly necessary. "You missed all the fun," Matthew complained as the images of the astronauts being hauled out of the space capsule flashed on the screen. He and Anne looked extremely relieved. The ladies were too, but in a different way.


"I think it's time you moved in," Marilla said to Rachel a few weeks later. Rachel had been spending most of her time at Green Gables anyway her house echoed with unhappy memories.

"Move in?" questioned Rachel.

"I suppose I should put it a better way. Would you like to move in with me, Rachel dearest? I would love to have you live here with me."

"Um, what will Matthew say?" Rachel said with a stutter.

"He'll be okay."

"No, you have to ask him first. I can't barge in on his home," Rachel urged.

Matthew was surprised, but not dismayed. It made sense to have Rachel around now that Thomas was gone. "You'll have to take care of her though Mar," he said cautiously. "Don't 'spect it will be all plain sailing. Marilla frowned at him, she thought she knew what she was doing.

They sat out on the porch one warm evening each nursing a glass of beer as the crickets were chirruping in the garden. "Are you sure you're okay with it, Matthew?" Rachel asked yet again. "Just say the word, no hard feelings."

"Nope, I'm happy to have you come, Rachel. You'll be good company, been mighty quiet around here since Anne's gone off to college. Like the old days, eh Marilla?" he said with a wink over to his sister. He took a swig of beer, condensation on the glass cooling his hand.

For her part Marilla was practically bouncing in her seat. Rachel patted her knee, "you'll spill your drink, Marilla."

Dark clouds heralded a storm when Rachel parked the Volvo stuffed with her belongings as close to the house as she could. After they had taken load after load in Marilla welcomed Rachel into her bedroom a vase of flowers on the dresser filling the room with their glorious scent.

It had been raining all night. Marilla awoke to the sound of a car boot slamming. She glanced across the bed and realised with a start that she was on her own. Throwing back the covers she rushed out the door and down the stairs realising halfway down that she was naked. She grabbed a raincoat on her way out and threw that over her shoulders just in time to see Rachel glance up at the house and climb into the Volvo. "Rachel!" Marilla called out, "stop!"

She raced over to the car through the puddles and hung onto the door peering in, "Rachel, where are you going?"

"No, don't stop me now Marilla. It's no good I can't stay with you. I thought I could, but I just can't. Please let me go."

"Rachel, come back in. We'll just talk. Just let me talk to you, please," Marilla said imploringly.

Reluctantly Rachel let herself be escorted back in through the downpour tears intermingling with raindrops trickling down her cheeks. She sat at the kitchen table while Marilla fussed around looking for towels. She rubbed her own hair vigorously after she handed the towel over to Rachel who did likewise. Marilla put the kettle on and while they were waiting for it to boil she went upstairs to put some clothes on and to give Rachel some time to herself.

While she was upstairs dressing in jeans and a warm top she reflected that she may have moved rather too quickly for poor Rachel. She had been so excited to have her move in that she had forgotten how frightened Rachel might be. I must remember to listen to her, to give her space, she chided herself. Looking down at the dishevelled bedding she had a brainwave.

The linen cupboard was just out the door and she went to it now and pulled out some fresh sheets. The shrill call of the kettle reminded her that Rachel was hopefully still downstairs, a fact that was confirmed when the whistle abruptly stopped. The spare bedroom was pretty, thought Marilla as she opened the curtains and pulled down the blankets from the top of the cupboard. Quickly throwing the sheet over the mattress and watching it billow out and then collapse to rest on the mattress she tucked it in and put another one on top and then laid the blankets over. The pillow was next so she stuffed the pillow in a case and gave it a quick kiss before she turned and made her way back downstairs.

A coffee cup sat steaming on the kitchen table, its pair cradled in Rachel's hands. Marilla sat down and took up the cup, murmuring her thanks and commenting on how welcome a hot drink was. They sat and sipped in a tense silence until simultaneously blurting out, "I should apologise." They both stopped to let the other speak. After a pause they started again until Marilla stopped and waved at Rachel to speak. Rachel sighed and after a pause started quietly, "it's just no good, Marilla. I thought I could stay here with you, but I see that was a fool's dream. I can't, I'm no good for that. I'm no one's partner now. I'll just go home and live alone from now on, I…"

Marilla placed her hand over Rachel's just lightly touching her, "shh. I was going to apologise. I pushed you too far. I understand that now. I was just so excited to have you come live here I forgot how it must be for you." Rachel stifled a yawn before choking as she gulped her coffee in her nervousness. Marilla looked at her compassionately, "did you sleep at all last night?"

"No," said Rachel quietly, "I just lay there and fretted. I was afraid that if I touched you, you'd think I wanted more and it would lead to…" she trailed off.

"Oh Rachel, I won't do anything you're not ready for. And if it never happens, that's perfectly fine too. I just want you to be happy. Look I made up another bed, you can go and have a nap now if you like. Would you like to follow me?" Marilla got to her feet and held out a hand, after a beat Rachel took it and they walked up the stairs together. The room did look nice, the freshly made bed beckoned. Rachel turned to Marilla with tears in her eyes, this looked far more enticing. She had just hated the way she reacted the previous night and worried that Marilla would be angry with her. The bed was soft and warm, Rachel was asleep in minutes.

Downstairs Marilla sat with a refreshed cup of coffee, musing. It was all her fault that much was sure. She had overestimated Rachel's preparedness to be with her. The poor darling's been completely bowed by that bastard, she thought thinking back to the utterly vile Thomas. I'll just have to take it slow. Very slow and remember to let her take the lead. Marilla drained the last of her coffee and got up to set the cup in the dishwasher. She had watched Rachel attempt to starve herself lately in an attempt to lose some weight. Marilla liked her just the way she was, so she walked over to the cupboard to rummage around for a cake mix. Maybe some baked goods would lift Rachel's mood.

Rachel woke up to her tummy rumbling. The baking aroma was alluring, and her mouth watered in response. A small knock could be heard and she said, "come in." The door opened revealing Marilla balancing a tray in her hands. She paused then entered saying, "I thought you might like some morning tea." Still groggy from her nap, Rachel struggled to sit up. Marilla set the tray down on the bedside table and helped her find some spare pillows. Rachel felt very hedonistic lying in bed in the middle of the day with a cup of tea and a plate with piece of cake on her lap, but she had to admit it was rather nice. "Now you just stay and rest, Rachel. I'm going to take a cup out to Matthew. Don't feel you have to lift a finger," Marilla said with a smile.

As expected Matthew was in the barn. Marilla poured her heart out to him, confessing to what an idiot she had been. Matthew refrained from saying I told you so, but it was a close thing. However, he did say, "you've gotta be careful." Marilla nodded. "I never told you, did I?" Matthew continued. "I always liked Rachel. I always felt wretched I never defended her against Thomas. I'll carry that to my grave, I know. But mind you had better look after her, sister. If you hurt her I don't know what I'll do. Jest take it real slow, Mar. She's like a little wounded bird. No sudden movements, okay." Marilla huffed in annoyance. "I mean it, take it easy," Matthew continued. "I know you're excited I know you want more." Marilla looked up at him in shock unaware that he knew. "Yeah, I know what you want but ya gotta be careful with her."

Marilla nodded, "yes I'll go slow. I'll let her take the lead from now on."

"She's had a tough time, Marilla. Jus' remember that. If you go too fast she'll run away. I 'spect there'll be setbacks along the way. Ya gotta be real tender."

Marilla smiled, "like you have so much experience all of a sudden."

Matthew grinned and drained his coffee wiping his mouth on his sleeve, "I dealt with enough wild animals in my time."

Marilla bridled at his statement, "Rachel's no animal."

"I'm not saying she is, I just know you gotta be patient, Mar. You go back in and be there for her now." Marilla took his empty cup from him and he watched her slosh her way through the puddles to the house and disappear through the back door.