Spring came, to Island, beautiful glowing, and velvety. The cherry trees, sweet apple flowers, like brides on their wedding finery, and the grass, the mighty, living green, and all those flowers, sicllas, anemones of various colors, delicate white, lilac, and merry yellow, and Mayflowers, in profusion all over in nooks and crannies of Rainbow Valley.
Monday had rushed to Walter, waving his tail extremely eagerly, for a few moments, as if imagining Jem appearing, too. Di tried to get Monday to come with them, to Ingelside for even one night. But Monday hadn't moved a single meter. Its large eyes had been full of wistfull longing, and it had sighed as it walked into its booth, waiting for one more evening train, the last of the evening.
Anne Blythe stepped into her bedroom, on her desk, there was a vase full of Mayflowers. Anne buried her face, them, the promise of summer, haunting, lovely one, full of countless memories, of similar offerings by Little Jem, over the years, and Anne knew that Walter, had been responsible of these flowers. She clould almost see him creeping around Rainbow Valley in gathering dusk, slender arms full of flowers. So Anne went to Walter´s room. Her son´s things were in a tidy pile as usual, and Walter himself was sitting at his desk, observing the flowery wiew around him, with keen gaze. Softly Anne whispered "Darling, thank you, for remembering. I have missed them and you, so much."Slowly Walter turned and slight, just hint of a smile blossomed in his features as he nodded and said "As Jem is not here, I felt that is it my duty to bring them to you. A small breath of normalcy in the midst of this chaos, that is our current reality." Few moments, Anne caressed Walter´s inky black hair and felt how tense, he seemed, how coiled, and harried. So Anne looked closely at those so beloved features as Walter lifted his clear grey gaze to window and almost unwittingly a small sigh escaped from him. Anne smiled gently and whispered in the stillness of the room,"Do you see the dragonflies dancing in the light, their wings like gossamer-silk? What kind of poetry they weave in the air." Walter´s voice were tight with anxiety as he said, "Mother, that image that you conjured is marvel, but I´m a empty and broken vessel of the Muses, they have no use of me."
Some days later, in the evening light, Walter watched the landscape, the red road, the glowing blue sky, and the abundant sparkling nature, the flower-splendor of the Ingelside Garden. There was a light hazy green everywhere. The clear air seemed to vibrate with beauty. In the past, writing had been like capturing influences from the air, and a landscape like this had previously inspired him immensely. Rilla sat next to him, and Susan her head covered in flannel walked past, carrying garden tools. Suddenly Jekyll jumped into the speria bush, so that the leaves vibrated.
Walter looked at the beloved, beloved garden bathing in the shadows and said lightly cheerfully, "Susan, it might, rain but don't think of rain, or rheumatism, but rather violets, how they lift their faces to the sky. "
Susan's words about the gas attack and the Germans were chilling. In suffocation, he exclaimed passionately, "Oh my God, no." And turned, fiercely, and walked back to Ingelside, firmly, leaving Rilla pale and striken amid blooming flowers. The magic of the evening, and the peace was shattered, and the black cloud seemed to cover everything. But every day, now he noticed that Susan and Rilla and even Mumsy, were working hard with Red Cross, and Nan and Di and Faith were immersed in the same thing, and they were planning to go to Kingsport, in summer season too, to be of use. And Miss Oliver walked around with a wan features, waiting for information about her fiancé who was in Flanders, with Jem and Jerry. Only the Rainbow Valley was as before, every flower, shrub and cone. Then the letters arrived, letters of Jem and Jerry, for Nan, and everyone relaxed in Ingelside, for a time.
And one bright morning after breakfast, Susan said calmly to Walter, "A few years ago, I promised to teach you how to bake, so follow me to the kitchen." The next few hours were interesting as Walter watched how skillfully and almost unnoticed Susan prepared delicacies on the war-time rations.
Light biscuits went into the oven, and short-bread, and Walter got to watch the tea not make it oversteeped for Ladies Aid was coming to meet at Ingelside, in a few days, so the delicacies had to be first class.
And they were, as everything that Susan made. Walter grabbed one light biscuit off the cooling rack, and laughed as Susan scolded him. For a little while, it was as if there was no war raging in Europe, but then a dark figure of Cousin Sophia appeared on the road, and Susan's face tightened, and Walter set out to sit in the Rainbow Valley, with a novel in hand, for the cousins' conversations were fierce at best, and right now he could not listen to alternative military campaigns, or opinions on how the war should be handled, if the high command had any kind of sense.
Cousin Sophia, sat down in Ingelside's kitchen and declared in a gloomy predictive tone, to Susan, "Now they have sunk a civilian ship, after all, I said something would happen this week, I could feel it in the in my bones. May God protect all those poor souls that are floating at the mercy of cold water." Susan held out a fresh cup of tea in front of her cousin, in very grim manner. The news of Lusitania, of that horrendous tragedy, it circulated around Glen extremely quickly. Norman Douglas roared at Carter Flagg's store, as was his usual habit. Some of boys in the Glen broke all of Mr Pryor's windows, in patriotic outrage, as he had said some statement´s that were considered unpatriotic.
And one day twilight time Mary Vance, arrived in Ingelside. She sat down, and told everyone in her vigorous manner "Lusitania was too much. I told Miller that he could enlist, with my blessings. I can no longer resist, but Kitty still opposes the departure, but let's see how it goes." And the next Sunday, in Glen's Church crowd whispered as Miller Douglas walked ahead in kahki, and Mary Vance walked beside him in public, exuding pride so that her pale eyes seemed to shine, as she nodded at her friends.
Una glanced at the Blythe pew.
She noted Rilla´s pale form, and the way she seemed to be watching her brother, constanly as if afraid that Walter would vanish into thin air. Walter´s features were pale, and he was very stylish in his Sunday best, in his eyes had haunted look in them. As Reverend Meredith´s sermon ended, Father had been on exellent from today, Una mused. Something, in that sermon maybe, had made Walter smile, so radiantly that feeling flustered, at the mere glimpse of that smile, Una looked down into her twined hands, as she worried between her fingers her hand-sewn lace trim from her dress.
A week passed, and then the morning of the Glen Concert dawned.
The morning was a radiantly bright with sunrise, and flowers opening up in the garden of Ingelside and Rainbow Valley. There were white and pink apple blossoms, brust into glorious profusion, all delicate and sweet, full of charm and sweet almost hidden dreams.
Glen and Upper-Glen was full of hustle and bustle. Rilla had noticed that over the last couple of days, her sisters had glanced at her for a few times, and Walter was nowhere to be seen, but for once Rilla didn't have time to think about her brother.
She still had over a thousand things to take care of. Fortunately, Reese´s did not get whooping cough, and the program looked pretty good, though it had been humiliating to ask Irene to sing. Minnie Clow Glen's only alto had agreed to sing, after all, and there were also performers from the Lowbridge. The mutual relations between the concert committee were tight, but luckily everyone wanted the program to succeed, all the mutual disputes were now left in the background, albeit Amy MacAllister and Olive Kirk, made small spiky comments time to time. Apparently Irene had decided to go to Charlottetown right now, to get her dress. The hall would be quite crowded, with people, from all over the neighborhood, and beyond. The advertising had been effective, and the last exercises had gone smoothly. A couple more hours, then it would be evening, and the concert would begin.
Prince Edward Island Railway Station in Charlottetown was a beautiful, two-story red-brick building, and the streets of Charlottetown were full of people, townspeople with their stylish clothes, and daily affairs and papers. The Charlottetown Guardian glowed with the latest Allied wins and news headlines, with a strong and vivid print.
There where many churches, and well-kept streets, and parkland, as Walter overtook the Notre Dame convent as well as Saint Paul's Church on the way to Richmond Street, along which the enlistment office was located.
The cleaned corridors gleamed, and there was a Kitcherer poster on the wall, and other posters as well.
Protect women, be a man, and not a coward, or a shinker, do your duty, don't stay home, on the couch, when young men fight in trenches. Are you 18-36 years old, and healthy? If so. Join the army.
Walter's collar tickled, and he felt unable to breathe for a moment, for the posters, which glowed, proclaimed in strong colors, the defense of the family unit, and appealed to morality. The women, in the posters, were described as brave, and beautiful, who, without question, gave their sacrifice, their husband, their son, their fiancé, to the homeland.
And again, Walter thought about his mother, Rilla, my Rilla, his sisters, and Alice and Una, they could all be modeled on these posters. Strong visuals, powerful images. The lithography of posters of different men in various uniforms, the conscience of the individual, as well as the peer pressure that was everywhere in society, as Walter had observed in his own account in Redmond and Glen. While Walter was waiting, from another room came a man who opened a scroll.
It had a poster, soldier in a stylized uniform, well as the battles of Spring Ypres, Langemark, , it was targeted specifically at Canadians. There were few young men, in line before him.
Time seemed to stretch.
Eventually the door end of the hall opened and Walter´s turn came.
The walls of the office were surrounded by cabinets, and on the wall was a large embroidered sheet and the letters CEF in black thread.
At the large table was a man in a kahki uniform, and a cap there were and several pieces of paper, and a gilded ink-pen in front of him. He was quite good looking, he had kind eyes, and stress lines on his tanned features, Walter noted. Officer looked at him under his cap, and said "Here are enlisment papers. Fill them in carefully. Unfortunately uniforms are now temporarily out of stock. More have been ordered from the factory. Leave your measurements here, and a uniform will be reserved for you, in a few days or so. Remember, from the moment you are in uniform, you represent the military, you are a part of it, and you do what is required of you in training in Kingsport and later on the front whenever you get sent in Europe. Lusitania has created a real enrollment avalanche."
Walter glanced at the two pages of official form, there was relatively little space and only basic information was required, such as age, height, occupation and so on. So with a sleek, learned handwriting, he filled the from, but then the question came, and his inkpen wavered in the air for one endless moment.
Have you had any of the following diseases.
typhoid,
tuberculosis,
rice disease,
if you have, put a check mark next to it, please.
Walter quickly signed the form, and handed it across the table. Recruiting officer glanced through the papers, and said,"Great that you are doing your duty, Blythe, for the King and Country. Welcome to be part of CEF here in Canada."
Walter nodded and slipped out of the room. There were now several men in the lobby, waiting their turn. Workers, city dwellers, and a few young men who certainly did not meet the age requirements. The tobacco smoke was even thicker, hovering in a clear gray hazy mist in the room.
Walter wandered aimlessly around in Charlottetown and found that he was at 94 Brighton Road. The houses in front of him were still under construction, but they were beautiful, white Arts and Crafts style, the workers miled around the site, and one of them winked at Walter. Feeling unsettled Walter walked away hastily. Now, for the first time in a year, he felt that he was able to breathe, and his fingers were blushing for pen, and paper. Calmly Walter shook his coat, shaking Tadzio's scarf, but it was useless, as all his clothes smelled of cheap tobacco.
He found Stationery shop near railwaystation. There were lines of new ink pens, stationery, and notebooks. He quickly bought a burgundy notebook, and stationery, and a little ink, but not black, or red, but dark blue, on a momentary whim.
Then it was time to go back to Glen.
The train was half empty, and fairly soon after leaving station Walter opened the letter paper package, took out one strip, and began writing, with Alice´s present, sleek and gleaming inkpen, the new ink smelled, and words flowed like a dance, sprawling.
Oberon!
Glen glows with the beauty of spring and the Rainbow Valley is like a paradise on earth right now, small pockets of violets´s the fairy´s haunts, everywhere.
How is your training going?
I apologize for not writing when I received your previous letter, but the end of term was chaotic. Wonderful, that you received a comission to be lieutenant. Probably overseas are calling you rather soon.
I have just enlisted.
There's quite a rush in my head, the poems are literally flooding out, now. My departure for training may come quite soon, even in a couple of weeks, or maybe sooner. If I´ll end up in Paris, at any point, I´ll think of you.
WCB.
Ps. Naturally, your scarf will come with me. Did you think anything else?
Suddenly, wonderful, but a cloying perfume was hovering near, and Walter looked up and found out that right opposite him sat Irene Howard.
The blond girl was dressed elegantly, as always, and she had a few bags next to her. Irene smiled at him, and then in calculating honeyed, voice she said, "I collected my dress for tonight, as the performers must be at our best for the sake of the Belgians. Did you know that your sister, Rilla, came to me pleading with tearful eyes, few days ago, she simply begged that I would sing, in the concert because Ms. Channing, had been prevented from coming. I naturally agreed, although assembling the program quickly was quite difficult, but luckily that darkhaired schoolmistress from Lowbrigde, who is so sarcastic, and severe, can play rather well from notes. But whatever you did in Charlottetown? Is it possible that you are finally doing your duty, as every able man should? "
Walter startled, as if the girl had struck him with a pin, and said calmly, "Irene, some things are private, but yes, I did enlist."
A dangerous flicker lit the girl's blue eyes, but Walter didn't notice it, as he folded and closed the envelope, putting it in the side pocket of his jacket. Irene's face was calm, but a small smug smile glowed on her face, and in a quiet voice she hummed some of the songs that might have been a part of her upcoming performance.
Walter noticed that he was having a headache from Irene's perfume, as he quietly watched the verdant dance of maples, and birches, and wood violets, in small clusters, outside of train window Walter uttered softly
A violet´s exhalation it fills
With a serene light and crimson air
Intense yet soft, the rocks and woods around
It feeds the quick growth of the serpent vine
And the dark ivy tangling wild,
And budding, blown, or odour-faded blooms
Which star the winds point coloured light.
Like the soft weawing wings of noonday dreams,
Inspiring calm and happy thoughts like mine.
Suddenly, Irene's voice interrupted Walter's recitation "What exactly was that?" On face of the dark-haired beautiful young man had an expression that Irene did not how to interpret, like irritation, but it was impossible, surely. No man could not be bored with her.
Walter glanced at the blond girl, calmly, distantly, and a little tired. Chantingly, Walter replied, "Shelley. I was inspired, for the sweetest flowers just appeared outside, didn't you notice?"
Soon train curved to Lowbridge station, and Walter waved his hand as he spotted Dick Parker outside on the pier and Parker nodded back. Alice was next to her father, in a light dress with small stripes, she had no hat, and her hair was plaited very simply. She looked very fresh and sweet to Walter, like a white anemone.
The train started, rolling to Glen and Irene remarked in sweet tone with a barely hidden edge, "That dress is completely old-fashioned, and that braid, so quaint."
The concert stage was romantically decorated with branches and flags, and the freshest spring flowers. Representatives of the committee came to open the evening, Rilla was glowing, there was a light pink flush in her features.
The hall was fully booked. Concert program flowed serenely onwards. Jack MacAllister read emotionally, and the quartette sang brightly, "We'll never let the old flag down." Then Irene came to stage she was dressed in red fashionable dress, and Miss Oliver was in dark blue, and Irene sung four songs, in clear beautiful tone, that echoed in the bulding.
Then after small intermisson Rilla came to stage, to direct a small dialogue, and her face where whiter than the crab-blossoms in her hair. Walter, sitting next to Anne and Di, in the audience knew, with sudden incisive certainty, that someone had told Rilla. Program number one after another rolled out, and Walter watched his sister, there Rilla recited, read, and appeared in the role of an Irish grandmother, but her accent was not as fluid as before, and her tone lacked fire and sparkle. Then familiar figure of Alice stepped in to the stage, she was dressed in that familliar gold gown and then Irene joined her. Both were singing brightly, in a duet, a new popular Ivor Novello song.
They were summoned from the hillside,
They were called in from the glen,
And the country found them ready
At the stirring call for men
Walter noticed that Di was watching Alice with keen sparkle in her eyes. There was small almost secretive smile on Di´s features. Suddenly he remembered that whenever he wanted to talk to Di, after coming home from Redmond, she was either in the Red Cross meetings, or with Alice, somewhere, with a small basket of food. Every friendship was sacred, and Di had always been positivily choosy, to whom she opened her heart, and trust. So fondly Walter glanced at on the stage at Alice, and then to Di, the both girls tonight seemed to him shimmering, in a kind of nimbus of light, from the stage, a misty haze. The duet of Alice and Irene ended and audience was full of patriotic frevor, and the aplodes where rousing, in their frevor, and then the evening was over.
Walter waited at the door, one by one the people walked out, and soon Rilla appeared on the doorstep. Walter held out his hand, and Rilla grabbed his cool, slender hand, slowly they walked, in the misty moonlight, of a country road. The frogs sang in the swamp, and the fields shone in the hazy light of the moon. The spring evening glowed with beauty.
Walter looked at Rilla walking next to him, softly he said "Rilla my Rilla. I go for myself, for my own soul and for my own self-esteem. I know I could not go, as you pointed out, but that is not the point. If I don't go my soul will shrink, into something insignificant, and wrinkled. And that, to me, is even more terrifying than the horrors of war, wounds, even more horrible than blindness or mutilation or some other nameless horror, of war or my imagination.
`Comes he slow or comes he fast
It is death who comes at last`
Walter qouted airily, softly, and a stricken look flicered in Rilla´s hazel eyes as Walter continued. "For you know that mere life can be too expensive, and this past year has been consuming for me. Now for the first time in a year I am able to write poems. I know that at the moment I am triumphant, but there will be other days when I´ll will be overwhelmed. There are women in Belgium and Flanders, like you, and even you know what has happened to them, from newspapers, and this war must be stopped, dearest, sweet sister. My own guiding star has always been beauty, and I go there, to do my part."
There was a beautiful bushy spruce near the Ingelside gate, it was there, Walter embraced Rilla, her sister's warmth was comforting, and familiar as Mother´s perfume in the evenings, the slight scent of Lily of the Valley. Down below in Rainbow Valley, the trees were whispering in the evening breeze.
The Piper's enchanting call, it fluttered, and with a calm features Walter looked at the sky embroidered with stars, and he smiled, joyfully. A new bend in the road was waiting for him, soon.