For an eight-year-old boy, growing up in Glen St. Mary, Prince Edward Island, Canada in the late 1920's was a very peaceful experience. Often times it could be a little too peaceful, for an eight-year-old boy often feels the need for adventure and a steady supply of excitement. Thankfully, Gilbert Ford was blessed with an adequate imagination for creating his own adventures. This is because the only truly exciting think to happen in quaint little Glen St. Mary in months was when old Amos Reese accidentally put his car in reverse and drove it right into his pond. That incident had occurred in February, and it was already the final week of June. For an eight-year-old boy, that might as well have been an eternity.
To make matter worse, Walt and John were being kept indoors at Ingleside because both had caught a summer cold after wading in the brook that ran through Rainbow Valley. Tenny had to stay home and help Aunt Una, Hope, and Uncle Walter get the guest rooms at Hope's Cove ready for company. Cecilia and Elizabeth were going to stay at Hope's Cove for two weeks while Uncle Jerry and Aunt Nan attended a minister's conference in Montreal.
Gilly spent the morning making due with his brother and sisters as playmates, but that couldn't last for too long. He and Graceful Anne had spent the morning playing chase with Leslie, Kate, and Owen. They had succeeded in wearing all three of the triplets out thoroughly enough for them to take a good, long nap, and Graceful Anne had managed to twist her ankle in an unfortunate accident.
The favorite game of young Leslie, Kate, and Owen Ford was one they had learned upon gaining the ability to walk. Gilbert and Grace would hide from them, then jump out, scare them, and then ran after the three toddlers. It was a very fun, but loud and raucous game.
Grace had jumped from the Grandfather clock that stood guard I the Hose of Dreams parlor, yelled, "Boo!" at the triplets, and started to run after them. Somehow throughout the process, she managed to severely twist her ankle.
She was now sprawled on the sofa in the parlor with a tear stained face, an ice pack, and a plateful of monkey faced cookies. Grandad had already come, wrapped the ankle, and left with stern instructions for Grace to stay off of her ankle for a couple of days in order to let the swelling decrease.
She was of no use to Gilly now; that was for certain. To make matters worse, Mummy was spending all of her time making sure that Grace was comfortable. She was so distracted that she even forgot to get poor Gilly any lunch!
Poor little Gilly's stomach growled fiercely. Through the years, Rilla Ford had thrown a great many of Morgan's edicts to the wind when it came to raising her own children, but she continued to feed all of them on a very strict schedule. Gilly was used to being fed according to that schedule. He waited and waited in the kitchen for what seemed forever. Still Mummy seemed more interested in taking care of her other children. It seemed to him that she could show a little more thought to her firstborn. He thought once that she was about to check on him when little Owen cried.
Perhaps Mummy didn't need him any more. After all, she had a newer son. She was always telling his grandparents, aunts, and uncles about how intelligent and precocious Baby Owen as. He rarely ever heard her brag about him that way anymore.
His little belly growled again, and he decided to take matters upon himself. Obviously Mummy had forgotten all about him. He was little more than an orphan, so he decided to make his own lunch.
He walked to the pantry that Susan Baker had once called the most aggravating place she ever tried to work in, and looked about for something that would satisfy his ravishing hunger. In the breadbox, he found a fairly fresh loaf, and took it to the table. He looked about some more and found a can of peanut butter and a jar of Aunt Rebecca's Green Gables Apple Jelly. He took the condiments to the table and placed them beside the loaf of bread. Then he found a knife to slice the bread for is was still a few weeks until sliced bread was popularly invented.
Slice the bread indeed! He cut two rather thick pieces of bread. Then, he found Mummy's best mixing spoon to scoop the peanut butter from the tin can. He found inserting the spoon into the peanut butter to be quite difficult, but not as difficult as getting the peanut butter from the spoon to his bread. He found that the easiest way to get the peanut butter to the bread was to sling onto the bread with as much force as his little arms could gather.
However, he soon found that as much peanut butter landed on the kitchen wall as it did the slice of bread. He grabbed a dishtowel and desperately tried to rub the peanut butter off with it, but it seemed that the harder he tried to clean his mess, the worse it got. He finally gave up and decided to eat his sandwich, dripping peanut butter along the kitchen as he walked about.
Under normal circumstances, Gilly wouldn't have left his seat at the kitchen table. He heard an aeroplane fly over the House of Dreams, making an unmistakable sputtering noise as the engine purposefully cut out overhead. He knew without a doubt that his Uncle Shirley was flying to the Glen on some sort of business. As long as Gilly could remember, Uncle Shirley would perform this little trick with his plane's engine when business caused him to fly over a family member's home.
Gilly thought Uncle Shirley was one of the most amazing people in the world. For some reason, Uncle Shirley didn't like to talk about being an Ace in The Great War. Gilly knew that having such an honor bestowed upon him must have been for a grand reason, but when asked, Uncle Shirley didn't really wish to discuss it.
That wasn't all too strange though. Uncle Shirley was the quietest man Gilly ever met. He never was too sure how such a quiet fellow could really be the son of his boisterous grandparents. His Uncle Shirley was an enigma to Gilly. Nonetheless, this made him all the more interesting. As Gilly saw Shirley's beautiful red plane flying against the blue, blue sky above, he couldn't help thinking that if for some reason he couldn't be a newspaper man like his father, he wouldn't mind being a courageous pilot like Uncle Shirley.
He became so excited that he ran to where his mother was rocking little Owen, dripping sandwich included, and yelled out, "Mummy! Uncle Shirley just flew over the house! Can I please run over to the McGowan's to see what he's doing here?" Shirley always landed his planes in Gideon's fields because he as the only farmer in the Glen who didn't mind.
Rilla was so startled by her eldest son's appearance (because he appeared so suddenly and because he appeared so unbelievable messy – evidently some of the peanut butter and jelly also found its way into his hair) that she couldn't think of a word to say to him. She could only stare, all aghast at the site of her no longer clean son, wondering what the house looked like in his path.
Gilly stared at Mummy as well, wondering what could have struck his sweet mother so dumb. Owen however, with all the tact that a toddler just learning the intricacies of language squelched his cherub face and proclaimed, "Shooey! Gilly, shooey!"
Rilla sat little Owen down in his crib and grabbed at what seemed to be a clean portion of Gilly. That clean portion happened to be his ear. She pulled her eldest boy into the bathroom and furiously began to scrub the sticky mess off of him, never saying a word. She was too afraid that she would end up saying something rash. She didn't want to be one of those mothers who lost her temper with her children, no matter how hard they tried to get her to.
Gilbert had never seen his mother look quite like that before. She reminded him somewhat of old Tom turkey at the McGowan's. Tom was a mean old turkey that chased after everyone. Everything was fine until Tom's head turned purple. When his head turned purple, you had best find somewhere out of his reach or he'd tear your hide. Gilly had seen what Tom had done to Lucy once. Something had happened to Tom after he went after Lucy. He disappeared, and the McGowans invited everyone over for a feast.
Whatever had happened to Tom, Rilla looked a great deal like him as she scrubbed Gilly until his skin ached. He just knew that she hated him.
He looked up at her with his dark eyes, his father's eyes and repentantly asked, "Mummy, do you hate me because I made such a mess?"
Rilla's heart melted away. Whatever messed he had made could and would be cleaned up. She hugged her boy close to her, "I could never hate you, Gilly. It isn't right to hate anyone, but I love you – ever so much. Why you were my first baby! I couldn't do without you. You, Grace, Leslie, Kate, and Owen make my life complete. If I ever lost one of you, I would loose my mind as well!" She placed a forgiving kiss upon his forehead.
"Then you don't love Owen more than me?" he shyly asked.
"Gilbert Kenneth Ford, I love all of my children just the same. Now, what was this I heard about Uncle Shirley flying over?"
Gilly smiled, showing where he had lost some of his teeth the prior week. "Can I go see him, Mummy?"
"Yes, you can go see your Uncle Shirley, and then you can go see your Dad at his office. He said he has a special job for you this summer." she told him, giving him a quick swat on the hind end as he ran out.
"Remember to be home by the time the bells play at the Methodist Church, Gilly! I've have dinner ready by then," she called out to him as he flew out the door and down the lane, cap in hand.
Rilla turned around and finally had a good view of her kitchen. Pitifully, she said, "I think I shall have dinner ready by six."
No one can be certain, but there's a distinct possibility that Gilbert made record time, running to McGowan Farm. He found Uncle Shirley standing in the middle of the field, smiling and talking to Mr. McGowan. Jake was standing beside his father, already almost as tall.
For the most part, Gilly thought that Jake McGowan was a top-notch fellow. He taught all the younger boys how to tie the best knots, how to throw a lasso, and he always seemed to have his head on straight. He wasn't quite as boastful as Elliot Miller sometimes was. He didn't try to lord over them that he was older and knew more. He shared his knowledge.
Gilly looked about, wondering where Jake's sisters were. Maddie was nice enough, for a girl, but Lucy had a way of getting under his skin. Something about her, maybe her brownish-green eyes or her almond hair, made her stand out to him. It wasn't just her looks, but the things she said to him, for a five year old. He didn't remember Graceful Anne being so sharp-tongued at that age. At his own age, Gilly only assumed that she bothered him.
Gilly ran up to his uncle, once he was sure that the coast was clear of Lucy, and shouted, "Hello, Uncle Shirley!"
They looked up to see the boy happily running in their direction. Shirley caught Gilly, lifted him up, tussled his hair, and then said, "Hello there, Gilly. I see you heard my signal?"
Gilly nodded. "Yes sir. What are you doing in the Glen?"
"Oh, I'm just making some deliveries, and I thought that I would stop by Ingleside for a bite of your Grandmother's cooking. You know, it's never good to be in the same town as your parents and not say hello. No matter how grownup you are." He turned to Mr. McGowan. "Gideon, thanks for the use of your field. I promise to have her out of the way before the cattle come home for the evening."
Mr. McGowan smiled a little sheepishly. "Oh Shirley, your family's done enough for me and mine. You can park your plane here however long you wish."
'Thanks Gideon, but I can't stay too long. I don't want to miss putting Charlie to bed. For such a little tyke, he's really made quite a ritual of it."
Shirley pulled a couple of parcels out of this plane then started walking in the direct of the Glen with Gilly close on his heals, only stopping long enough to ask Jake if he wished to come along. The elder boy declined, stating that he still had stalls to clean before he could play. Mr. McGowan asked Gilly to kindly inform his daughters who were playing with the Douglases at the general store that they too had chores to complete.
Upon being given this task, Gilly let out an obvious sigh. It appeared that he would have to talk to Lucy after all. A saying his father often said came to mind, "A man's got to do what a man's got to do." Gilly surmised that his father was often right about most things, and quickly caught up to Uncle Shirley.
Uncle Shirley was a much quieter uncle than Jem, Jerry, Carl, or even Jack and Walter, but he almost always had a smile about his face. Even though he said very little, all of his nieces and nephews loved being in his company. To them, he had the most amazing job imaginable, and none could really imagine getting to have as much fun as Uncle Shirley had to on a day to day basis. Gilly felt very honored to be able to "work" alongside his Uncle Shirley.
"How fares the House O' Dreams people, Gil?" Shirley blithely asked.
"I s'pose everything's good, Uncle Shirley. The babies are getting bigger and bigger, but so are Anne and me. Graceful Anne fell and twisted her ankle this morning, but Granddad fixed her up."
Shirley laughed. "Rilla was right to name that girl for Mother. She certainly had Mother's penchant for getting into scrapes. Has anyone ever told you about the time your Grandmother fell through a roof?"
Gilly shook his head. He had heard many tales in his life, but not that one. Shirley gladly told the old family anecdote. He even "let" Gilly carry one of the parcels. The two had such a jolly time that they were in the heart of Glen St. Mary in no time at all. Shirley bent down to meet Gil eye to eye, taking the parcel and shaking his hand.
"Well, it seems that this is where we must have a parting of the ways, Gilly-boy. I've got to deliver these parcels to the bank and Dad and Jem's office. I imagine that you should carry out the favor that Mr. McGowan asked of you as well."
Gilly sighed, "Yes. I should do that. Mumsy also said that Dad has a job for me at the newspaper. I must be getting pretty big for Dad to have jobs for me, huh Uncle Shirley?"
"You're growing up far too fast, Gilly," Shirley laughed. "Why it was just the other day that you were the same size as my brown boy, Charlie."
"Grandmother says the same about you," Gilly pointed.
Shirley let out his own sigh and looked about the village that he had called home most of his life. It was constantly changing faces it seemed. A cinema was being built down the street next to Miller Douglas's Store. That once was Carter Flagg's store, but not in Gilly's lifetime. A new pharmacy was across the street with the nicest soda fountain this side of P.E.I. Automobiles crawled and sputtered about everywhere like ants in a glass case.
His new home and his parents old home, Avonlea, had also changed a great deal. Aunt Marrilla Cuthbert and Mrs. Rachael Lynde might even get lost there if they were to miraculously walk it's streets again. "So wags the world, Gilly. So wags the world."
Gilly squinted his eyes in confusion. He imagined that he had heard that saying before, but wasn't sure. "What?" he asked.
'MEMORY cannot linger long,
Joy must die the death.
Hope's like a little silver song
Fading in a breath.
So wags the weary world away
Forever and a day.
But love, that sweetest madness,
Leaps and grows in toil and sadness,
Makes unseeing eyes to see,
And heapeth wealth in penury.
So wags the good old world away
Forever and a day.'
"It's a poem by Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz, Gil. It's one that Granddad likes to quote. It's very fitting sometimes."
Gilly raised his head as if he understood what Shirley said but didn't really. "I though Uncle Walter was the family poet."
Shirley chuckled, "You can't be in our family and not have moments of poetry from time to time. I'll tell you something, Gilly. Every time your Aunt Rebecca smiles at me, I feel like I could write a dozen sonnets."
"Is that what it's like to be in love, Uncle Shirley?"
"I guess that it is, Gilly. I guess that it is. Have you yet fallen under love's spell?"
The boy shook his head in revulsion. "Oh no! Girls are terribly queer. Like that Lucy McGowan. She just bothers me something fierce."
"Well my boy, some day you'll understand, but I dare say that it wasn't too long ago that I felt the same. I mustn't tarry any longer. I'll see you soon, Gilly. Here's a Tootsie Roll," he handed Gilly the small, wrapped candy. "Don't let Rilla know I gave it to you. Heaven knows Morgan wouldn't approve.
Gilly waved goodbye to his uncle and headed into his father's office. Myra, who worked at the newspaper as a sort of secretary/ advise columnist looked up from whatever she was reading through her thick, round spectacles and smiled a rather false smile. It was no secret that she had no fondness for children. She refused to ever marry lest she be "stuck with a houseful of brats."
"Gilbert, your father has been expecting you. What is that you're eating? Don't you know that sweets will make your stomach turn to sour mash?"
His mouth full of the chewy chocolate concoction managed to say, "I don't think that it does, or my Granddad wouldn't eat so much of it. He's the best doctor on the Island, you know."
"He hasn't been able to cure my rheumatism, boy. Neither has his Jem," she crassly remarked.
"That's probably because you don't want to be cured, Miss Myra. Granddad says that attitude is seventy-five percent of what heals a person. With your attitude I'm really surprised you're not in your grave," he honestly told her.
Ken heard Gilly's last remark and had to keep himself from laughing at his boy's honesty. He obviously was listening too much to Rilla and Persis's gossip.
"Gilly, could you see me in my office, son?" Ken called out before Myra slapped him.
Gilly hopped into his father's office proudly. "What would you like me to do, Dad?"
"Gilly, how would you like to make a little money this summer? Colin McTavish has gone to New Brunswick to visit relatives for the summer, and I need a paper boy. Do you think that you're responsible enough to deliver newspapers to households in the Glen and to Mr. Douglas's store?"
Gilly nodded gleefully. He always wanted Colin's job as paper boy. Now he was really getting to prove his worth to his father. He would be working side by side with him soon. Ken smiled proudly at his little son, handed him a knapsack full of papers, a list of subscribers, and a quick pat on the back.
Well, here you go, son. Make sure you get copies to all of the subscribers first. Then take all the leftovers to Douglas's store. Don't worry about collecting any money today. We'll worry about that at the first of the month after you've gotten the hang of things. Are you ready?"
"Yes sir!" Gilly exclaimed, forgetting Mr. McGowan's request.
Delivering the newspapers proved to be an exciting job. Gilly got to see everyone he knew. Mrs. Meredith gave him a cookie. Grandmother made Uncle Jem take a picture of him with his knapsack and cap on. Grandma Leslie gave him a few coins, calling it," a tip." Aunt Una's lips quivered as she called him, "almost all grown up," and kissed his cheek. Mister Marshall Elliot smiled kindly and mentioned, "Cornelia would've loved to have seen this."
Everyone seemed so nice that Gilly hadn't noticed when he was at Kitty Alec's door. She wasn't at home, so he left the newspaper on the doorstep, which suited him just fine. She was always mean to him, and he didn't like her at all. He also didn't like how her neighbors, the Thomases let their pigs run free. He was so happy to get away, that he didn't notice two portly pigs following him down the Glen Street.
When he finally arrived at Miller Douglas's store, he found Maddie and Lucy playing hopscotch on the sidewalk with Cornelia and Marshal Douglas. Bryant and Elliot were nearby, playing jacks. They saw Gilly walk up, knapsack in tow, and Bryant asked, "What've you got there, Ford?"
"I'm my dad's new paper boy. I get paid to deliver the newspapers. There are for your pa's store," he said, patting the sack.
Lucy grinned mischievously and said, "That's pretty neat, but why do you have pigs following you?"
"I don't have any pigs following me!" Gilly argued.
Elliot stood up and pointed behind Gilbert. "You better turn around, Ford. You have followers."
Gilly turned, saw the pigs, and his head turned bright red. "They must've followed me from the Thomas House. I had to walk by there to deliver Kitty Alec's paper."
"Aunt Kitty's in town for the week, Gil," Cornelia sweetly told him.
"Oh. Well she subscribes to the paper, so it'll be waiting for her."
"What are you going to do about the pigs, Gilly?" Maddie asked.
Gilly rubbed the back of his neck, "I don't really know, but your dad wants you and Lucy to go home and do your chores. I saw him a while back."
"Don't worry about the pigs, Gil," Elliot advised. "Those stupid hogs will go home when they want to. This isn't the first time they've come around here."
Gilly smiled, "Good. I have to get these inside." He delivered the papers to Mr. Douglas who gave him a piece of licorice "for his trouble." While he did this, little Lucy McGowan was hatching a plan for the pigs.
Lucy had a bit of devilment about her that day. She had spent the better part of the morning learning Bible verses as punishment for talking back to her mother. That punishment was nothing compared to what she would receive once she got home that evening. She wouldn't set down easily again for many hours after her father gave her his most hated punishment for his children.
Gilly walked back outside to where the children were playing, and Lucy walked up to him. "Gil, I know what we should do with the pigs. Do you remember the story of how your Uncle Walter and Aunt Faith rode some pigs through town?"
Gilly nervously nodded.
"Why don't you and I ride these two porkers and teach them to stay in their pen? I dare you to, Gilly. If your Uncle Walter can do it, you can." Her eyes turned more green than brown and whatever Gilly really wanted to do didn't matter. He couldn't say no to those eyes.
Maddie tried to me the voice of reason, but the Douglas children voiced their approval so loudly that she was never heard. They mounted the two tall, lanky pigs and tore down the hill and through the village, Lucy bent double with laughter over her terrified courser, Gilbert crimson with shame. They tore past the newspaper office, and Ken didn't know what to think of his son. They tore past the train station just as Jerry, Nan, Cecilia, and Elizabeth were stepping from the train.
Jerry doubled over in laughter, "I can't believe that Gilly's doing what Walter and Faith did! Oh, poor Rilla's got her hands full."
Nan wasn't too sure about Jerry's approval of such actions. "Jerry, do you think that as a minister, you should approve of this?"
"Oh Nan-girl, you know that children will be children. If this is the worst thing Gil and Lucy do, then we're quite all right."
"I suppose you're right, dear. After all, Faith and Walter turned out fine, and those Drew pigs never again emerged from their pen. They were a nuisance," she said, slowly beginning to bust into uncontrolled laughter herself.
Gilly got a stern talking to when he got home that evening. Lucy got more than that since it wasn't her first or second offence of the day. The pigs never did leave the Thomas yard again. For all of Glen Saint Mary, it just seemed that the children were following family tradition. They only hoped that Lucy would calm down as Faith Meredith Blythe had and that Gilbert Ford wouldn't be as odd as Walter. Finally, everyone forgot about old Amos Reese backing his car into a pond.
This is a far less dramatic fanfic than my others, but I like it. Time will start to move very fast here, and things will get more dramatic as time goes by, This is the long-ago promised Gilly chapter for Ruby. Please read and review.
