Dearest provincial college student - OF COURSE you turned out alright! (I dropped out of my provincial college, and I turned out alright too.) To anyone who is interested, Gilbert's response was in part an attempt to address the mystery of why Anne and Co didn't attend the college in Charlottetown when it was founded in 1860, so it was an option. I imagined in Maud's head Redmond College had the prestige of an Ivy League school or something like that. Also, after the war, there would have been staffing and therefore curriculum challenges because there was a shortage of men and money. The 20th century was a time of massive urban expansion, with people moving out of more rural areas and into cities. And historically PEI suffered because of it. Interestingly, with the onset of the great depression in the 1930s they were one of the last provinces to feel the effects because their main industries revolved around food production, so they always had enough to eat. As businesses in other provinces went bust, they could not afford to import PEI's products. Rather than see that excess food go to waste, the people of PEI organised the transport of their produce for FREE to people in need on the mainland. I have heart eyes just thinking about it.
About the asking permission bit. I don't even think Gilbert asked Marilla, but I do appreciate the reasoning behind it. In those days once a woman married the chances of her being able to contribute financially to her household were severely diminished by the demands of motherhood. So, it was important for parents to know their daughters were going to be safely provided for. This meant the man had to front up to the woman's dad (or mum) and provide evidence of his abilities to provide and care for a family. I guess the tradition of the father walking his daughter to the man she intended to marry came from this expectation: that he was passing on the responsibility for the care and support he had given his daughter onto her husband. Archaic? Yep. But kinda sweet :o)
Sorry to ramble, you know I love this kind of stuff. And I am adoring your intelligent, thoughtful, and sometimes hilarious comments! You make me think and question my points of view, but best of all you make me laugh! Thank you :o)
Love you all so much, k.
24
Was he looking for that peace he talked about when he suggested they visit little Jims – Ken hardly knew. What he did know, or came to understand at least, was the friendship between the girls.
Anyone might wonder, and Ken was one of them, why Rilla and Una were friends at all. Maybe it was because they were at the beach that he found his answer, for he saw there was something tidal about them. When one would go inward and the other would go outward, and on and on they would go.
At the Anderson's, for example, Una sat there like a little lump, nodding, smiling, and nibbling, while Rilla did most of the talking. But when Jims woke from his midday nap, it was Una who took over and gave a hand to clear up, so that Rilla could have some time alone with the little boy.
It was Rilla, sitting in the shallow water being splashed and teased by the boys, who saw Una had gone for a walk along the shore. And Rilla who saw the moment Una turned back to them and decided then and only then to jog over and join her.
Ken and Teddy watched Rilla go, she had a bit of a knock-kneed run, the skirt of her sailor-suit costume dripping seawater down her calves. Una never went any further than her ankles, and that was only because she had misjudged the waves. She didn't venture into the sea but rather walked alongside it.
Ken thought their friendship was charming, but Teddy took a different view. That Una was a real wet blanket. How could she take up Rilla's attention when Ken was leaving in two days time. Kitted out in Di Blythe's fetching V neck swimsuit and then refusing to go for a swim.
"Go on, grab your girl, Cap, I'll get Una," he said and waded toward the shore in Una's direction.
Ken watched half impressed, half intrigued by what would happen when Teddy threw Una over his shoulder and ploughed back into the sea. She didn't kick her knees into his back or bash her fists against his chest. There was no squeal, no arching and wriggling. She did look like a wet blanket.
Deeper and deeper the two of them went until the water was at Teddy's shoulder. The tide was in, just on the cusp of going out again; an hour ago, their picnic had been moved further up the shore. On the boardwalk were Bruce and Jims, and Mr Anderson carrying a tray of ices. Mrs Anderson wasn't feeling well, she said it was the heat, though everyone knew this was code for expecting.
Ken waded back to the shore and took Rilla by the hand. They sat with the boys while James Anderson went back to his buggy to hunt out a handkerchief to catch all the drips, and another sun hat because Jims' white one had gone missing.
Bruce squatted in the shelter of Ken's big body. Jims was cradled in Rilla's soft embrace. The sun bore down on the adults' backs, the black wool of Ken's costume soaking into him and bringing with it a deep, clean bliss. He forgot how sore he sometimes felt. The aches were just something he wore, like a cap, his boots, his uniform, that knowing glint, the white toothed grin.
The cosy, familial scene was shattered the moment Jims dropped his ice in the sand. Bruce gave him his, because Jims was being very loud, and he was trying to remember the names of all the kings and queens going back to Alfred. Bruce was not the sort who would accept the half-licked ice of Rilla or Ken as his replacement, however. He wasn't a baby who could be fooled, he knew that other people's spittle was disgusting. So, he went to find Mr Anderson to see if they could buy another ice, while Una's and Teddy's melted in the tray because they had cherry and Bruce wanted lime. He wasn't being rude about it; this was simple logic. What was the point in pretending to want something when what you truly desired was close at hand.
Now it was just Ken and Rilla, and little Jims sucking away, the salty air scented with a sweet, fruity smell and sandy gusts tickling the soles of their feet. The waves were lolling, the sun was fierce, and the red stained ice chips melting in their cups looked like puddles of blood.
Rilla was watching Una and Teddy. Ken was watching her. The armholes of her costume were sagging so low Ken could make out the swell of her breast as she leaned back on her arms. Rilla had a spectacular bosom, full, high and heavy, sitting proud on her chest. Such a womanly fleshed-out body, and such an arresting face. Her freckles were out in force, her lips were stained pink with her raspberry ice, the frill of her bathing cap playing kiss-me-quick with her eyebrows.
He murmured, "I do love you, Rilla-my-Rilla," just as she turned and said, "I can't see Una, I can only see Teddy, where has she gone, do you think?"
Rilla frowned into the sea seared with the sun and then plopped Jims onto Ken's knee.
"I can go," said Ken.
"No, it's better if it's me."
Out the tidal Rilla went: Ken waiting for Una to come in. He would get her to mind Jims when she returned, maybe she could help him find some shells to decorate Bruce's moat.
Rilla never ventured any further than her knees before she spied her chum. She was on her back, Teddy's burly, vein threaded forearms under Una's washboard waist, supporting her body while she floated.
When Una didn't fight Teddy like he was hoping she would, he had asked if she wanted to go back to shore. No one was more surprised than he when she simply asked if he would hold her up and help her learn to swim.
She ignored all his instructions, however, her silvery little fish feet under the water barely made a kick. Una just floated, or imagined she was floating, with her arms out wide and circling and the sea water licking her ribs and hips.
Di's costume was too big for her, the striped, ruched bodice plunged down her chest; her small breasts jostling like jellyfish bells under the bubbling fabric. Her sternum was tight and pearly and so was the skin at her neck as she leaned her head back so far sometimes only her nose breached the water.
She didn't care if he was looking at her or not, because Teddy had been looking and she never once flinched. Una wasn't pretending not to notice the way Persis did, or hoping he would look like Dawn. She truly didn't care to the point that Teddy wondered if she even remembered whose hands were under her waist.
The tide was pulling back now, he had already taken several steps further out in order to get to water deep enough to bear her weight. Not that she weighed much. Una wasn't plush like Rilla, who was standing at the water's edge with her crossed arms squeezing her boobs together, and the legs of her bathing suit tight around her thighs.
"Christ," Teddy murmured under his breath.
"Yes," said Una, her arms outstretched, "I was thinking the same."
How do you feel, she wanted to ask, knowing Walter was willing to give his life to save yours? Why wasn't Walter transferred to logistics under the watchful eye of Captain Ford.
"Thank you, Teddy, I've had enough now. I'm cold," she said.
And she was, not only her lips were turning blue. When Teddy guided her back to the beach, her limbs looked bloodless, almost grey against the yellow stripes of Di's swimsuit.
Una trudged past Rilla with a tired nod and dropped near Ken on the sand. Jims was snoozing on his lap, his blonde curls sticking to his chubby cheeks and a line of green drool pooling on Ken's thigh.
Rilla called for Ken to join her. Ken pointed at Jims and shook his head no. So, she gave a little shrug of her shoulders, and then squealed to the skies as Teddy raced toward her and pulled her into the retreating sea.
She was dangling over his shoulder now and they were both screaming at Ken to hurry up and get in. Ken waved back to show he had seen them but that was all he did.
They played like seals in the water, yelping and diving about. Laughing, their whole bodies quivering with the force of it; joyful, happy, lilting laughter as though neither had a care in the world. And they didn't: she was young and free, he was young, free and very smitten. Ken saw that straight away. He didn't mind; every boy wanted their sweetheart to be admired by their chums whilst expecting them to never act on that admiration.
Ken trusted Teddy: had trusted him with his life many times, and he loved him in an instinctive, brotherly way. Even now as a wave crushed Rilla and Teddy together and she ended up sprawled across his chest.
She started grabbing handfuls of sand and was trying to stuff it into his face while he batted her away in a playful fashion. He wasn't really trying. Ken knew how strong Teddy was. The boy could carry the dead-weight of a dying man for hours.
A stillness came over them both, like the calm before the rain. Rilla was getting off Teddy and jogging away just as Una rolled onto her back. Ken turned his face toward her as if wanting Rilla to think he had never seen a thing.
He asked Una what she was thinking about.
"Salvation," she said.
...
In case anyone is wondering, yes there were plenty of colourful, V necked swimming costumes in 1919. You better believe I researched that. Next chapter to follow. Love, k.