"Where have I been, dear sister? I suppose that I have been doing some of the very same things that all of you have been doing, I have been living, constantly reminded and painfully aware of how fragile life actually is. There is so much to tell you, and as I can see, so much for me to catch up on. I suppose first of all, you want me to continue my tale. So let us sit, and I shall fill you in on the brief life of John Doe Darcy, because until the accident six months ago, that is who I have been."
Everyone did as Walter instructed, and he did continue his story,
"I
woke in a field hospital, having been unconscious for two weeks
due
a concussion
received from a nearby shell explosion. Sitting next to
me,
wiping my brow with a damp cloth, was the most beautiful
young
woman upon
which I had ever laid eyes. Even though I couldn't
remember
any other woman at that time, I knew that she was still
the
most
breathtakingly beautiful creature that God had ever
created.
Rays
of sunlight shone on her golden hair, and gave her emerald
eyes
added depth
and sparkle. She noticed I was awake and greeted me with
a
warm, loving, and thankful smile and even a single tear falling
from
an eye, 'Good
morning. I am very glad to see that you are awake. I
was
beginning to think that I would never get to meet you. No,
don't
try to
speak. You must rest. There are all sorts of questions
that
we all will
have when you are stronger. I must get the doctor now,
the
attend you.'
Then
she left, leaving the angelic sound of her voice playing in
my
head. She
returned soon with a doctor. He examined me and asked me
if
I knew who I was. I opened my mouth to reply, but realized that
I
had no answer.
He asked if I knew from where I came, and I had the
same
reply. I couldn't remember who I was or anything else. My
first
memory was
of seeing Katie's, as I soon came to know her, face.
No
one had any record of who I was. It seemed that Katie had
taken
quite an
interest in my well-being the two weeks that I
was
unconscious.
Her twin brother, Albert, was at the front, and I kept
her
mind off what he was experiencing.
Their
own story is quite a remarkable one. You see they were from
the
States. Their
parents were natives of Derbyshire England, where
their
father was
the youngest son of an Earl of a rather large estate.
Father
and son had a falling out. It seemed George, named for
his
grandfather's
favorite aunt, had fallen madly in love with a
tenant's
daughter,
Abigail Marten. His father, Henry, had wanted more for
his
son and
demanded he have nothing more to do with Abigail.
George
refused his
father's demand. He had always wanted to live a life
of
freedom and had
read of the United States Government giving away land
to
farm in a land called Oklahoma.
George
married Abigail in a quiet ceremony before they set sail
to
America. They
did start a homestead in Oklahoma, near a town called
Tulsa.
They farmed and raised cattle there and had their only
two
children.
Together,
they built a home, and even reestablished ties with
their
family,
because old Darcy finally overcame prejudice and saw that
his
son was living
the life that was meant for him.
When
Albert and Katie were still young, oil was discovered on
their
family's
ranch. Soon they were part of the bustling oil industry
that
has made that
area so popular.
When
war broke out between England and Germany, Albert was in
England
studying
law with his cousin, William. They both joined up.
Katie,
being as
obstinate and headstrong as her ancestors, refused to
sit
idly by as the
States did little to aid in the war. She joined the
VAD's
to be near her brother, and not long after her
twenty-third
birthday,
she was sent to Courcelette. That is where she found me,
and
took me in an ambulance to the field hospital.
She
tried to help me remember anything. She read poetry to me,
and
somehow I knew
the lines before she read them. We both found that we
were
fond of Tennyson. We became friends. She was a kindred
spirit.
When I
was sent to a hospital in Chesterfield, she transferred
there
too. Her
family's land was nearby. We would take long walks
along
the peaks
together, and she often commented on the fact that I
must
have been a
learned poet or something like that before the war, and
that
my disappearance must have broken many hearts.
We
dreamed together of when the war would end, and kept hope. I
was
madly in love
with her, but afraid to act on it because I had nothing,
not
even a name to give her. I had been released and discharged.
Her
grandfather
and his family took me in. They made me a part of
their
family. I
seemed to fill a void left by William and Albert. I think
I
also helped him heal over the loss of young George all those
years
before. It
seemed that despite their reconciliation, he regretted
his
actions and
obstinacy.
We
continued on in this friendly confidant fashion until April and
the
battle of
Arras occurred. William was wounded and lost his left
arm.
Albert was
killed by a bullet through the head. I was with Katie
when
she found
out. She was so hurt, so crushed. She tried to remain
strong
around everyone else, but around me she would fall apart, and
I
would hold her.
To think of it now, I know somewhat how you must have
felt
when my news came, and though I had no choice or control, I
am
still sorry to
have had it happen.
Katie's
grandfather new that she needed to be home. She needed
to
return to the
hills and streams that she had wandered as a child.
Her
broken heart
needed to heal. It wasn't a safe passage back to
America,
but it was what she needed, so with Grandfather
Henry's
blessing,
I accompanied her.
In
time, she did heal, and I went to work with her father managing
the
farm and oil
company. They took me in as a son. I no longer had
nothing
to give her, and I asked her to be my wife. In
an
unconventional
manner, I took her family's name when we married in
spring
1918.
We were
very much in love. Katie and her Johnny, as I was
called,
couldn't
have been happier. Things couldn't get better. Then
the
Influenza
Epidemic came.
Mr.
Darcy sent us to live at the country house, Dovedale, just
as
people did when
the Plague hit England so long ago. He couldn't stand
to
lose Katie as well as Albert. He tried to get Abigail to join
us,
but she
refused to leave his side, and he felt he had to stay at
the
office.
Months
went by, and we thought that everyone had gotten through
all
right. Then
the letter came stating that both George and Abigail had
died
suddenly from the horrible influenza. Once again, I had to
hold
Katie as her
life turned tragic. This time, I had lost those that I
cared
for too. We grieved together. Then in January of 20', we
were
blessed yet
again. On that snowy, cold day, Albert Tennyson and
Abigail
Hope were born. We called them 'Tenny' and 'Hope.' I
had
never felt so
much joy and love in my life.
We
sold the oil business for a good share in 22' because Tulsa
was
tainted by a
great amount of violence the year before. We wanted
nothing
to do with the city, and resided solely at Dovedale.
We
had some very good years there together. We even were expecting
a
third child.
Then the accident happened. Thankfully, the children
weren't
with us. We had spent the evening together on Grand Lake.
It
was dark and
starting to rain. Then, a blasted oil truck hydroplaned
and
hit our Model T head-on.
I
had a blow to the head, and was unconscious. Katie was thrown
from
the car. I
woke up in the hospital, remembering who I was, and
finding
my wife barely hanging on to life in the bed next to me.
She
lost the baby,
but I thought that my love could bring her back.
I
told her my name. She told me that it suited me so much more
than
Johnny, that
it suited my eyes. I told her of Ingleside, of Prince
Edward
Island, of mother and dad, and all of you. She told me how
she
loved you all
already. Every day, I would sit by her bedside and tell
her
tales of all the Ingleside folk and all the stories of all
the
people I had
ever known. She told me that I should get in touch with
my
family, that I would need them. I thought she was getting
well;
she knew
better. I did call family. I called Grandfather Henry.
By
the time he made it to Oklahoma, she was getting weaker and
weaker,
but when
she saw him walk through the door with her cousin, Jane,
she
told him,
"Hello Grandfather. I want you to meet my husband,
Walter
Cuthbert
Blythe."
At
first, he thought that she was just delirious, and then I
explained
how my
memories returned with the accident. He was very glad to
know
that I wasn't
a tramp, though he said he knew in his heart that I
couldn't
be.
That
night, she told me that I needed to return home to heal, and
that
it was the
greatest honor of her life to have been Katie Blythe.
She
also told me
that it comforted her to know that her children had such
a
loving place to grow up, and would never know a life without
love.
She told me
how I saved her life when I awoke in that field hospital.
I
told her that no, she was my salvation, and that without her;
I
would always
have been just John Doe.
Then
she was gone. In the blink of an eye, my life was gone.
I
didn't want to
continue living. That was when Grandfather Henry
reminded
me of Tenny and Hope. 'Son, I know what you're suffering.
I
too lost my wife
too early. I found that I could continue to live
though
when I saw my three sons and two daughters and thought of
them
growing up as
orphans. They need you. You need them. Go to your
people.
Heal at home the way Katie healed here. Just don't
forget
your
Derbyshire family either.'
How
could I forget them? They had been my only family for so long.
I
left Dovedale in
the capable hands of our closest friends there, the
McGowan
family. We buried Katie and came here. That is the
short
version of
my life story the last several years."
Once again, the room was filled with tears. Anne, feeling Walter's anguish, held her son to her breast and rocked him as she had when he was a baby. "I would love to have known your Katie, dear Walter. She sounds like an angel. I cannot wait to meet my grandchildren either. Where are they?" Walter smiled to his mother with the pride that only a father could have. "They are safe in a hotel in Charlottetown with Grandfather Henry and Jane, waiting for me to return with the all-clear to come to Ingleside. I will bring them here tomorrow on the evening train."
The stubborn Anne of olden-days came out and vehemently stated, "Oh no, you will not! Your father and I will accompany you on the morning train because I cannot wait to meet them, and I cannot imagine having you away from me again so soon."
