. .
Chapter One-hundred sixty
. .
A Confidant
. .
Seated around a formal dinner table, with a candlelit arrangement of varying heights of candlesticks and a floral centerpiece, William offered the blessing before Bill grinned, "This place is very nice, William, Grace. Did you design it and chose the colors and fabrics? "
"We gave a general direction for a color scheme, but the hotel arranged it all and the place is furnished so it was easy to move in!" Grace explained as she passed a bowl of fragrant roasted potatoes and onions.
"I envy that it was furnished for you and you didn't need to make decisions about everything. My apartment is a mess of boxes having just arrived yesterday, however I guess I will get to it eventually. Right now I am grateful for a delicious home-cooked meal!"
Hudson stood to serve the meat platter knowing a few people around the table wouldn't be able to handle that weighty dish.
"Thank you, Hudson, I appreciate this," Nathan grinned at the older gentleman, adding, "I find I still need assistance at times." As he heard Bill's comment and realized what he himself had just confessed, Nathan had an idea to discuss after dinner.
Much to Elizabeth's relief, the meal was a success, as she had experimented by sprinkling thyme and black pepper on a separate pan of red beets, golden-orange butternut squash, Brussel sprouts, and green beans she roasted to add color to the beef, carrots, onions and potatoes. It was a feast for the eyes and appetites. Allie's addition of a sprinkle of nutmeg and some vanilla in the whipped cream they dolloped on the apple cake made dessert extra special.
"Since Elizabeth cooked tonight, shall we menfolk retire to the kitchen to wash the dishes? " Nathan explained, "We need to keep practicing since we, or at least I, have had a break since the holidays."
With four men clearing the table, the dish washing and drying was completed quickly amidst much teasing and laughter, until a sudden crash and wail interrupted them. Hurrying from the Thatcher's kitchen, Nathan was the first to arrive on the scene.
Jack, dripping with water, knelt on a chair, toy truck in hand, while the toppled and broken vase spilled flowers and water on the table and carpet.
Hudson and William immediately disappeared to grab towels, Carol and Elizabeth quickly gathered up the pieces of glass and Grace retrieved a wastebasket, while Nathan wrapped his arm around a sobbing little boy.
"It's okay, Son. I'm sure it was an accident, although we probably shouldn't be playing with our toys on the table linens, right?" He carefully examined the little boy to be certain he wasn't cut by any of the glass, then took Jack's hand, "Nothing hurts, right? I don't see anything, so step down and go with Mommy to change from your wet clothing. You can come back, okay?" Nathan pushed Jack towards Elizabeth as he took over the job of collecting shards.
"I didn't mean to break the flowers," Jack looked forlornly up to his mother as they turned towards the inner door.
"Jack, dear, you are more important than that broken vase. I am certain we can set things right," Grace assured him.
"You know, Jack, when something broke my mother used to say 'Despise not the spoiling of your goods.' (*94) Have any of you heard that?"
"Can't say that I have, but that's a good one to remember, Carol," Nathan took note of the phrase. "Every object is only a thing, not anything we carry with us into eternity, so in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter what gets broken."
A soft sniffle escaped from Bill who stood by observing the catastrophe, but he turned his head away and hurried into the kitchen to find a suitable replacement container. Having caught the sound, Nathan lifted the wastebasket and followed Bill into the kitchen.
"Bill? Are you okay?" Nathan whispered as he approached his friend.
Nodding, Bill took a moment to respond, "I'm fine."
"I don't think so. Want to talk about it?"
"Not here," Bill confessed under his breath.
"Okay then, later," Nathan momentarily placed his hand on Bill's back before finding the kitchen garbage pail and lifting the lid to deposit the broken glass.
. .
Gathering back in the living room, Elizabeth held Jack's hand in one of hers and a book in the other. Dressed in his pajamas and moccasins, Jack, his head bent, went straight to his Grandmommy Grace. With renewed tears threatening and a trembling voice, he spoke softly, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been playing on the table. I'm sorry I broke your vase."
"Come here, dear boy," Grace extended her arms, "I accept your apology and the fact that you learned something too. I love you, Sweet boy, never forget that. The vase doesn't matter, you do." She gently poked her finger into Jack's tummy, causing him to giggle. "What is Mommy holding?"
"My book for Daddy and Uncle Bill to read. Oh! Maybe Grandaddy and Uncle Hudson can read too?" Jack turned, surveyed the room, and headed towards Nathan, climbing up on his lap, "You start, Daddy."
Nathan caught Elizabeth's eye as she handed him the chosen book, 'A Child's Garden of Verses' remembering Jack's insistence that they start in the beginning and read all the way to the end!
This time, Nathan opened the middle of the book and asked, "Okay, Jack. Which poem shall I read tonight?"
"That one," Jack's pudgy finger pointed to an illustration of a little boy on his bed with a tall sail above.
"Ah, ha! Remember I told you I used to make believe my bed was a boat? The title of this is 'My Bed is a Boat.' This is perfect."
"My bed is like a little boat, Nurse helps me in when I embark;
She girds me in my sailor's coat and starts me in the dark.
At night I go on board and say Good-night to all my friends on shore
I shut my eyes and sail away and see and hear no more.
And sometimes things to bed I take, As prudent sailors have to do;
Perhaps a slice of wedding-cake, perhaps a toy or two.
All night across the dark we steer; but when the day returns at last,
Safe in my room beside the pier I find my vessel fast." (*94)
"Read this one next," Jack pointed to 'Winter-Time.'
"Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two, and then, A blood-red orange, sets again.
Before the stars have left the skies, At morning in the dark I rise;
And shivering in my nakedness, By the cold candle, bathe and dress.
Close by the jolly fire I sit To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore The colder countries round the door.
When to go out, my nurse doth wrap Me in my comforter and cap;
The cold wind burns my face, and blows Its frosty pepper up my nose.
Black are my steps on silver sod, Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake, Are frosted like a wedding cake." (*95)
"How about you ask Bill to read a poem to you? Can you choose one for him?" Jack slid off of Nathan's lap and dragged the book to Bill who reached for him.
"What have we here for me to read, Jack?"
"That one," Jack pointed to a poem entitled, 'The Wind.'
"I saw you toss the kites on high And blos the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass, Like ladies' skirts across the grass-
O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!
I saw the different things you did, but always you yourself you hid.
I felt you push, I heard you call, I could not see yourself at all-
O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!
O you that are so strong and cold, O blower, are you young or old?
Are you a beast of field and tree, Or just a stonger child than me?
O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!" (*96)
And so it went with each of the most important men in Jack's life, taking a turn, and reading him a couple of goodnight poems until his eyelids began to droop.
Since he was in his grandfather's arms, William carried Jack into his bedroom, followed by Elizabeth and Nathan. Patting his shoulder, William left Nathan and Elizabeth alone to pray over their boy.
Arms around each other's waists, Nathan led a quiet prayer of thanksgiving and trust for God to watch over this precious child. After shared 'Amens' Nathan turned to Elizabeth and whispered, "I am going to bring Allie and Carol back to the Cottage and head over to Bill's place. I sense he needs to talk." Nathan lightly kissed his fiancée, adding, "Thank you for a wonderful dinner, Lisbeth." He kissed her nose, noticing an odd expression. "What is it?"
"Nothing I guess... I just hoped we would have some time for just us tonight…"
"Honey, just as you spend time with your friends and family, I need to spend time with Bill. Something is going on and I am not sure if he is just missing Hope Valley, or Adeli, or what. In the kitchen he sort of said we could talk later and I don't want to miss the opportunity." Nathan kissed Elizabeth's forehead and whispered, " I love you, my dearest Love."
Having a difficult time releasing him, Elizabeth eventually admitted, "I love you too, Nathan, so much."
. .
Entering the living room, Nathan announced, "Folks, I need to head out. Carol, could you stay with Allie in the Cottage for a while? I'm going to keep Bill company while he unpacks some boxes." Nathan looked from Carol to Allie to Bill, receiving nods in agreement from them all. "Thank you for hosting tonight, and I wish each of you sweet dreams." Nathan made the rounds to hug the Thatchers and Hudson, then waved. "Good night, everyone!"
Helping Nathan don his serge and overcoat in her apartment, Elizabeth warned, "You won't do any heavy lifting, right, Nathan?"
"I'll be fine, Lisbeth. I can hand book-by-book to Bill and it will make a dent in the chaos. I'll be in touch tomorrow." As he threaded his hands into his gloves Nathan had a second thought, "Oh, I spoke to Josiah and they have invited us to their place Friday for our family game night, okay? I said 'yes…'"
"Sure," Elizabeth pulled his scarf tighter then turned to a smiling Allie. "Is that alright with you, Allie-girl?"
. .
Bill opened the apartment door when Nathan knocked, "You really don't have to do this, Nathan."
"I think I do, Bill. Even if I am not as much help as I wish I could be, I am company," Nathan shed his overcoat revealing that he had removed his serge at home and added a cardigan. "So where shall we begin."
"Coffee maybe?" Offered Bill, pointing to the kitchen.
"Okay. Shall I open some of these boxes and set things on the table for you to put away? Would that help?"
"It probably would, Nathan. Thanks."
Aware of Bill's silence, Nathan decided to begin with Bill's reaction to the broken vase.
"I noticed your reaction when the vase broke, Bill. Did that trigger a memory or something?"
"Straight to the heart of it, eh?"
"We are direct men, Bill. No need to pussyfoot around." Nathan sat at the kitchen table and pulled open a box labeled 'kitchen' beginning to unpack stacks of dishware.
"You could say a memory flooded back. I was reminded of a time when I was the one who broke a vase. The reaction was no where near as nice as tonight's though."
"Tell me about it... How old were you?"
"Ten, so old enough to know better I guess," Not sure how to proceed, Bill reached for the dishes Nathan was setting on the table. Without consciously deciding on a shelf, he followed the locations he remembered from cooking in this kitchen with Adeli, and opened the cupboard to place the plates where she had kept them.
Digging a little further, Nathan queried, "Where did it happen?"
"At the orphanage, in Nova Scotia."
"Wait, Bill! You lived in an orphanage? What happened?" Nathan sat up straight and waited.
With a heavy sigh, Bill began his story. "No one knows this, but my parents died from consumption and I was placed in an orphanage out east, in Halifax, when I was eight. I hated it and spent most nights planning my way of escape. I was scrappy, unhappy, and an angry young lad, holding everyone at bay. When I accidently broke the vase at the orphanage, I was yelled at, punished, and sent to the boys' dorm room without supper. The following day, I enacted one of the many plans I had dreamed of and ran away from the orphanage. I was ten."
Bill sunk into the other kitchen chair and continued softly, "Fortunately it was summer, so for a few weeks I survived by fishing and cooking the fish threaded onto a stick, then begging for bread. I helped myself to water from outdoor pumps and did what I used to call 'borrowing.' I felt the world owed me whatever I could lay my hands on because I had lost my parents."
"I carried my worldly belongings in a shirt I tied onto a pole. I had my father's folding knife, a couple of photographs, a battered tin cup, and a bar of soap that I stole from the orphanage, and it was enough to get by until I was caught."
Bill stood to pour two cups of coffee which Nathan prayed to God he would be able to drink…
Seated again, Bill sipped the steaming beverage before continuing, "I was caught pinching a tempting yeast roll from the general store and as soon as that strong hand held my shoulder I knew my freedom was up. I was done for. I'd probably be returned to the orphanage and be treated worse than before."
"Thing was that strong hand belonged to an older Policeman, a Sergeant in the Halifax Police Department. He firmly turned me to face him and guided me towards the counter. I'll never forget what he said… and what he did. He spoke calmly to the owner and said, 'Excuse me, Sir, this young man has chosen this delicious looking roll. I don't think he intended to pay for it, but I will. Can you place two of these in a bag so we can enjoy them with our soup tonight?' That Officer taught me so many lessons in just that one exchange." Bill shook his head, blew on the coffee and continued his story. "I hadn't known love since the day my parents died, until I met this gentle man." Bill gulped to swallow the lump forming in his throat.
Nathan quietly watched, silently prayed, and patiently waited for Bill to speak again.
"That older Sergeant, who caught me, took me into his home rather than putting me in jail where I belonged. The warmth of the house, the food, and the kindness of the man gradually melted my young heart and helped me turn my life around. I confessed I had run away, explained how I had managed for those few weeks, and practically begged him to keep me, promising to work for him however I could."
"He sat me down and solemnly explained right from wrong, but he said he would make a deal with me. I guess that was a word I could understand, making a deal. The boys in the orphanage had made plenty of deals to avoid eating a food they hated, or sharing an extra sandwich they had pilfered."
The Sergeant explained that he would keep me, but I had to uphold my end of the bargain. He would buy me clothing and feed me, keeping a roof over my head and a soft bed on which to sleep, but I had to attend school and work hard to learn, doing my very best. I would have to attend church with him every Sunday and be polite to any adult I met. He expected, 'Yes, Sir and No, Miss or Ma'am' to every one of them. I should never lie, or curse, or steal but learn to be kind and helpful to those in need."
"In the summer he permitted me to accompany him to his office where I spent hours reading, and even allowed me to tag along when his investigation wasn't expected to be dangerous. That's how I learned to ride. He was a patient and knowledgeable teacher and I drank it all in. I adored this man, Nathan, adored him."
"What was his name, Bill?" Nathan asked in a low voice.
Coughing, Bill met Nathan's eyes, then smiled, "You're not going to believe this, but his name was Nathaniel. Nathaniel Avery. I called him, 'Sergeant Nate' when I was young and Sarge as I grew older. I took his last name when he died."
"You see, there are many reasons I have been drawn to you, Nathan, not the least of which is your name. There is also, your example of taking in Allie and raising her as a single Mountie, teaching her, supporting her, and loving her with your big, warm heart. You remind me of Sergeant Nate."
Bill paused while Nathan worked to swallow his emotions.
"Gradually Sarge gave me responsibility for some household chores after doing them together for a while. It was he who taught me recipes to cook, something I used to do with my mother," Bill chuckled, "At least I baked cookies with my mother! Mostly I hung over the pot or mixing bowl for anything else, although she taught me how to scrub carrots. Don't ask me why that has always stuck with me!"
"Nathan, the man loved me like a son and as he got older, he often told me how God had given me to him as a wonderful blessing…" Bill choked up and had to blow his nose and recover before he could speak again. "It wasn't until I was older that I learned the meaning of his name, of your name, Nathan… 'Gift of God.'"
After silently sipping their coffee, Nathan ventured another question, "So he was like a father to you but he didn't adopt you, right?"
"I'm not sure if it was done back then, but we didn't need it. I longed to call the man Father, but wasn't sure if he would even want that, although he acted like a father in every way. He filled the role for me and I was his grateful son. He instilled an understanding of right and wrong, taught me faith and morals, even before the Mountie code of conduct, and how to care for and love people."
When I finished school, he had me apprentice with a chef, hoping it would be a backup vocation for me, even if I chose another field. When I was eighteen, Sergeant Nate fell ill. I nursed him as best I could, diligently following all his instructions until he couldn't speak much anymore. We had often discussed the Municipal Police and the Mounted Police and we both read everything we could find on the Mounties. His pride in his work as a law enforcement officer was evident."
"On one of his last nights, he directed me to his desk drawer and had me bring him an envelope with my name scrawled across it. 'Open it, Son,' he uttered thickly. He left me having known a father's love along with enough funds to bury him, keep a small amount of savings, and purchase a train ticket to Regina or anywhere I desired. We had spoken of me possibly joining the Mounties someday as he understood a young man's desire for adventure, to 'spread my wings' as it is said."
"I entered the Academy in 1886 and excelled. It was there that I continued my fascination with investigating and understanding the criminal mind, in addition to the law, justice, and mercy which were interests instilled in me by the Sergeant. After frequent relocations, I became a Sergeant and, when the opportunity arose, I became a Forensic Inspector. It was then that I married Nora and accepted her son, Martin, as my own and I also began studying law by correspondence."
"I can tell you, although I would not share this with another, but I had a Superior Officer who seemed to enjoy goading me at every turn, until finally I had had enough. By then Martin had died, Nora was gone, and I was working in Hope Valley, so I retired from the force and became a Sheriff. I could use my Mountie skills but be my own boss and that suited me just fine. Eventually I was asked, then appointed to be the Judge and you know the rest."
Surprised to learn all this new information about his friend, Nathan had remained quiet through most of Bill's confessions, although occasionally reconsidering that his gruff demeanor hid a tender, compassionate heart which only those closest to him ever glimpsed.
Bill rose and said, "Just a minute," departing the kitchen and returning with his well-worn Bible. He opened it to pull three photos from the back pages and handed them to Nathan. "Those are my parents when they married, and that was with me when I was a young boy. But this… this is Sergeant Nathaniel Avery." Bill's voice was soft and almost reverent.
"I am grateful you had him, Bill, and I believe he was blessed to have you." Nathan glanced up into Bill's watery eyes as the older man hovered over Nathan's shoulder examining the photographs once more.
Nathan handed the sepia-toned images back to Bill and, scraping the floor, pushed his chair away from the table. Standing, he opened his arms to his friend, brother, and mentor and welcomed Bill into a pat-on-the-back hug.
Embarrassed, Bill ducked his head and cleared his throat when he pulled back from Nathan, changing the subject, "I hope I didn't just hurt your shoulder, Nathan, I'm sorry."
"I offered my hug, Bill, and I am fine," With that comment, Nathan chuckled and Bill raised his eyes.
"Fine, huh?" Feeling lighter and far less alone having shared his burden with Nathan, Bill nevertheless sobered, speaking sincerely, "Thank you, Son. Thank you."
Taking his seat again, Nathan returned to the project before them, lifting a stack of soup bowls onto the table and inquiring, "So, have you been in touch with Adeli since you arrived?"
His face warming, Bill confessed, "She left me a letter and a gift." He opened his waistcoat to reveal his new tie clasp, lifting his necktie to show Nathan. "She said the 'A' has multiple meanings and, well…ahh… I guess that's between us…"
"Ah ha. That's good then, Brother." Nathan grinned, "I can guess at least two of those meanings…"
. .
(*94) My elderly 'Aunt' Fanny Vail Rackett (actually a first cousin-twice-removed) often said 'Despise not the spoiling of your goods' and my mother repeated the phrase to us as we grew up. Countless tears were dried while we contemplated that wise, old phrase.
(*95) "My Bed is a Boat" by Robert Louis Stevenson, included in the collection 'A Child's Garden of Verses,' 1905. Public Domain.
(*96) "Winter-Time" by Robert Louis Stevenson, included in the collection 'A Child's Garden of Verses,' 1905. Public Domain.
(*97) "The Wind" by Robert Louis Stevenson, included in the collection 'A Child's Garden of Verses,' 1905. Public Domain.
. .