Chapter 15 - A Bit of Fun
"Oh NO!" Anne Shirley cried in dismay a week later as she and Gilbert stood just inside the schoolhouse doors. She'd been meaning to check in on the schoolhouse before term started in a few weeks and Gilbert had come with her today on that very mission. She'd only come to straighten up a little and prepare the room for the start of school, maybe clean the blackboards and set out the new textbooks. But what greeted her eyes on inspection was worse than anything she could have imagined. "What in tarnation happened!" Anne cried, looking around her in disblief at the disarray about her. Books and papers lay scattered on the floor buried beneath a smattering of broken wood and debris.
Gilbert moved past Anne towards the middle of the room and peered upwards. "That's what happened," he said, drawing Anne's eye upward to the gaping 4 foot hole in the schoolhouse's roof. "The roof must have collapsed during that last rainfall we had," Gilbert surmised.
"But that was over a week ago!" Anne said, her temper flaring. What hadn't the school trustees sent someone check on the building before now? Was it really up to the teacher to ensure the building's structural soundness before term started? "I can't believe this! Less than three weeks before school starts and this!" Anne exclaimed waving her hand down at the mess, continuing her diatribe against the negligent trustees and the low priority they seemed to continually place on the education system. She was always fighting for more books and resources from their stingy coffers, and now there'd be an expensive maintenance repair, made all the worse by its inefficient and untimely execution. "Yikes!" Anne exclaimed, jolting as a bird suddenly flew up from its comfortable spot on on the bookshelves and disappeared out the hole in the roof. It was apparent that some of nature's creatures were taking opportunistic advantage of the unexpected habitational offering. Anne began another tirade at the neglect and injustice.
Gilbert crossed his arms and leaned back against one of the desks, watching Anne as she continued her rant, his mouth twitching as he tried to suppress a look of amusement and something else that was decidedly more than mere amusement. There was no doubt Anne was riled up. She had a temper, that one, no doubt about it, as he had learned first hand all those years ago when as a child she'd broken a slate over his head when he'd teased her about her hair. Only now the expression of that temper had a decidedly different effect on him. He couldn't help but notice how animated her features were, how her heightened colour illuminated her face in a most becoming way, how her eyes had darkened and fairly blazed with the fire of her outrage. He didn't suppose he could ever tell her such a thing. Tell her that the way she looked right now did something to him. Stirred something in his blood that had nothing to do with the remembrance of that long ago incident involving a slate, but only served to make him think of things he wanted to do now, things as far removed from childhood pursuits as it was possible to get.
Suddenly Anne whirled on him. "And what are you doing just standing there! DO SOMETHING!" she fairly shouted, her eyes blazing.
Gilbert raised a brow at the command, his mouth twitching all the more with his amusement. With apparent obedience, her uncrossed his arms and straighened, then began to studiously visit each desk, collecting the slates that were neatly assembled on the desktops of each one.
Anne blinked. "What in heavens name are you doing?" she demanded.
Gilbert stopped and looked up, a pile of slates in his hands, and a grin on his face. "Getting the slates out of your reach," he replied.
Anne blinked again, slow realization and remembrance of their childhood incident coming to her. Suddenly her anger evaporated and she laughed out loud. "Gilbert Blythe! You stop that!" she rebuked in mock outrage.
"Well only if you think I'm safe," Gilbert responded with mock doubt, pretending to mull what threat the combination of Anne's anger and the availability of nearby slates posed to his personal health and safety.
"You're safe," Anne laughed. "I promise not to break a slate over your head," she vowed in mock solemnity, enjoying Gilbert's game as much as he.
"Well that's a relief!" Gilbert grinned, and then paused warily. "And the trustees?" he asked, holding the slates closer to his chest as he eyed Anne knowingly out of the corner of his eyes, his brows raised at the prompting.
Anne chuckled. "They're safe too," she sighed the promise in mock forebearance. "Although they deserve a good tongue-lashing, I'll try and restrain myself."
"Good," Gilbert grinned and released the slates onto a nearby desk.
Mulling her behaviour over the past several moments, Anne blushed with remorse. "I'm sorry, Gilbert. I didn't mean..." she started, then stalled, embarrassed now over her previous exhibition. "My temper, it always gets the best of me. I'm sorry...I didn't mean..." she trailed off uncertainly. She hadn't meant for Gilbert to bear the brunt of her outrage over the schoolhouse conditions, it wasn't fair to him. But sometimes when her temper got the best of her she was hard-pressed to keep from showing it.
"That's okay, Anne. I understand," Gilbert said, coming to stand before her. "You're passionate about things," he acknowledged. "We're a lot alike in that respect."
Passionate? Anne eyes widened in surprise. "You? But Gilbert, you never lose your temper," Anne refuted his claim. There was no one more steady and even-mannered than Gilbert Blythe, Anne thought.
"Temper? No, I don't have a temper," Gilbert shook his head with a smile. "My passions take a different direction," he said lightly, but his eyes were suddenly intent, something smouldering darkly in their depths as he stared down at her.
Anne inhaled sharply. Why did he sometimes do that, she wondered. Why did he sometimes say things that made absolutely no sense to her, but only caused a jolt to course through her, accompanied by a quickening of her pulse and her heart slamming wildly against her ribs? Oh, he'd always teased her to a degree, ever since their childhood days, but for some reason over this past summer his playful teasing had taken on some other quality as well. One that left her breathless, confused and feeling totally out of her depth. It was just like when he sometimes touched her, that strange peculiar jolt that went through her. Only this was with words. His words could do that to her too. Quite flustered enough for one day, Anne turned away, bending low to retrieve some of the scattered debris. Gilbert too bent low beside her and began assisting with the clean-up.
"Don't worry Anne, there's plenty of time for the roof to be repaired before school starts," Gilbert reassured her. Bent over her task, Anne nodded at his reasonable conclusion. She really had jumped the gun a little with her tirade. But she'd only reacted spontaneously out of her dismay. "If you like, I can contact the trustees about the repairs and make arrangements just as soon as it's possible," Gilbert offered.
Anne continued with her task, but shook her head. "No Gilbert, I'll let them know. It's more my job than yours," she said, noting as always Gilbert's offer of help. He did say once before that he liked to help, and here he was again, proving it.
They worked on in companionable silence, cleaning up the mess as much was possible that day before heading outside, the pair strolling side-by-side as they headed in the direction of Green Gables.
"Speaking of school, you'll likely be heading off to Dalhousie soon yourself, won't you Gil?" Anne asked lightly. For some reason the prospect of Gilbert's return to medical school in the fall had beeen weighing on her mind of late. She didn't know why that should be so, she'd known all along of his leaving. And as she'd told Diana Barry back in the spring, she would likely miss Gilbert, just as she would miss any friend who was leaving. But somehow, lately those words didn't ring as true now as they did then. Over the intervening months there'd been some small, or maybe not-so-small, change in her perceptions, and Anne had a sudden sinking suspicion that she would miss Gilbert terribly. It was only natural, she tried to rationalize. They'd spent so much time together over the summer, it was only natural that his absence should create a sudden void. That was all it was, she firmly told herself.
But Gilbert hadn't answered her question yet about returning to school. In fact, there had been a long silent pause after she'd asked it. Anne turned her head to regard him. "You'll be going back to Dalhousie soon, won't you Gil?" she repeated, just as the pair rounded a small bend in the road. "Won't you...ACKK" Anne suddenly shrieked and reeled back, a wall of liquid having hit her, an unexpected dousing from a pailful of water. Little Tommy Henderson, the apparent culprit, dropped his pail in shock, his eyes wide at the horrible mistake. Anne blinked in disbelief, her arms spread wide as she looked down at herself. Her dress was soaked from neck to hem with water. She looked up and met the frighened boy's eyes.
"Tommy Henderson!" she practically screeched.
"Miss Shirley! I'm so sorry!" the little boy wailed. "Me and Donny...me and Donny was playing...I didn't know it was you! Honest I didn't!" he wailed over the tragic misidentifcation. How was he to know it was be Miss Shirley coming around that bend just then, when he and Donny had been the only ones out, engaged in the strategic machinations of their water fight.
"Anne," Gilbert's began, his voice was low beside Anne, perhaps feeling some small measure of sympathy for the poor hapless lad.
Anne turned on him. "You stay out of this!" she commanded, her eyes darting fire. Anne turned back to the little boy. "Look what you have done! I'm soaked right through!" she chastised loudly in complaint.
"Yeah, you sure are," Tommy acknowledged, momentarily proud of his accurate aim, before he remembered himself. "I'm so sorry! I didn't know it was you!" he repeated his apology, imploring for understanding.
Anne sighed loudly in great forebearance. "Well, alright," she ground out the acceptance. "Now get along with you, before I take a switch to you," she threatened. Only too happy to escape with such relative ease, Tommy turned and ran out of sight.
As Anne began to pick away her skirts away from her body in obvious discomfort and distaste, Gilbert couldn't help but chuckle at her side. He'd thought to intervene to spare Tommy from Anne's anger but Anne hadn't let him, and as it turned out he needn't have worried. For all her display of bluster and temper on the outside, she had proved herself of a softer heart inside. She had accepted the boy's apology, albeit none-too-graciously, Gilbert smiled at the recollection. And that threat of a thashing was as empty as her bluster. Anne would no more have taken a switch to Tommy Henderson than he would have.
"And just what are you grinning about?" Anne demanded grumpily, turning on him, her eyes narrowed suspiciously on his happy countenance.
Gilbert tried to wipe the smile from his face. Honestly he did. He even had the momentarily thought that it was in his own best interests if he did, but he just couldn't seem to.
"Ah...nothing," he replied evasively, his lips twitching.
Anne only narrowed her eyes on him even more. This was sure turning out to be one jonah of a day. First the schoolhouse roof and now this. And Gilbert there to witness it all.
"I'd better get you home so you can, um, change," Gilbert suggested, just the merest hint of teasing in his voice.
"Well, you'd best let me go alone then," Anne said, sighing loudly.
"What?" Gilbert asked, surprised by her declaration.
Anne turned more fully to him. "Gilbert Blythe, I don't know if you've noticed this but I have an unlucky history with..." Anne paused and waved down at herself, "...with water. And you always seem to be around when I do. Marilla is beginning to suspect you're the cause and I don't think bringing me home soaked to the skin once again is going to benefit you any."
Gilbert scratched his neck over Anne's strange reasoning. Then again, on the other hand, she had a point. Remembering back in time, he recalled all the occasions. All the occasions of Anne's "unlucky history with water". That day he'd rescued her in the lake when Mr. Barry's dory had sunk, the day she'd tried to get the jersey cow out of the cabbage field and had fallen into the water in her attempts, the day she'd gotten stuck in the mud on her way to pick flowers on the small island, the thunderstorm at Ruby Gillis' garden party and then the storm just last week they'd both been caught in. And now today. Yes, Anne Shirley did have a point about her unlucky history with water. Gilbert smiled and put on a mock heroic front. "Well, Anne, I think I'm brave enough to face Marilla's wrath if you are. Shall we go?" he grinned at her, raising his brows with the question.
"Alright, but I warned you," Anne grumbled low under her breath.
It was a short time later that the pair came up to the Green Gables front steps. The screen door opened squeakily and Marilla appeared on the verandah, her mouth agape.
"Anne Shirley, what have you done?" she exclaimed, for perhaps the thousandth time in the years of their co-habitation.
"I got caught in the cross-fire," Anne explained on a sigh, referring to the boys' water game as she picked at her damp skirts and climbed the verandah steps. At Marilla's blank look, Anne elaborated her misery, "Tommy and Donny Henderson. They were having a water fight. I got caught in the cross-fire."
"Anne Shirley, you do beat all!" Marilla exclaimed, perplexed and confounded by this newest of explanations. "Just how many ways are there to get soaked to the skin anyway?" she shook her head dispairingly.
No longer able to refrain from the conversation, Gilbert smirked and replied, "I don't know how many ways there are, Miss Cuthbert, but I'm sure Anne is determined to discover every one of them."
Suddenly two pairs of female eyes turned as one, both of them eyeing him with a look of askance and silent remonstration. But Gilbert only grinned wider and offered a perfunctory bow. "Goodday, ladies," he said and then turned, hoping make his retreat before the bubble of mirth in his belly erupted fully and he laughed out loud. Over his shoulder he heard Anne's comments as she headed into the house.
"Oh Marilla, this wet dress feels just awful," she wailed over her pitiful condition. "Like I've been wrapped in a dead wet cat."
No longer able to contain himself as he walked down the lane away from Green Gables, Gilbert Blythe threw back his head and let out a roar of hearty laughter.