Chain Locker by Bob Chaulk Page B

I’ll probably stay with Furness Warren. They’re a pretty good crowd.”
    Simeon got to the point: “You got a bit of a hangdog face on you there, b’y. A bit lovesick, are ya?”
    No response.
    â€œCheer up, you’ll be back in no time, with all kinds of money to spend on her.” Still getting no reaction, he continued, “But, if I was you, I wouldn’t stay away for too long.”
    That got Henry’s attention. “What do you mean?”
    â€œOh, nothin’… nothin’ at all. Just flappin’ me gums. She’s quite the looker, that one. I ’magine you’re not the only one interested in her.”
    On they trod, heads down, one sealskin boot after another interrupting the view of the ice below. As he thought about Simeon’s comment, Henry’s mind wandered to the previous autumn, the dark blue sky, hot sun, the clear slate-grey water of Notre Dame Bay, a lazy yet passionate day that had stirred his soul and awakened a part of himself he had never known. He vividly remembered Shellbird Island, where they had walked, picnicked, talked, laughed, talked and laughed some more. In the cool grass, holding her warm body next to his, curbing his passion took all the restraint he could manage. She gently checked him, setting limits that only made him desire her more. She was not going to be rushed; that was clear.
    He had reluctantly accepted her hesitation and desire for more than what most women her age wanted. The majority of the girls he had known didn’t take long to get down to business on the marriage front, with much not-so-subtle hinting. But Emily was different. She was in a class by herself and he was painfully aware that with each step he was going farther away from her.
    At that moment in Twillingate, Agnes Tizzard was walking through the door of her mother-in-law’s house for her afternoon visit. “My dear, them grandchildren got me fagged right out,” Elfreda Tizzard complained, as she leaned on one elbow on the daybed and scratched her abdomen. “I needed a quick nap o’ sleep before you showed up. I’m gettin’ up, now.”
    â€œTake your time,” said Agnes. “They were hard on you, were they?”
    â€œI had young Robert all morning and then Lucy was here with her two, and you never heard such a charm. They left the door open and one of the hens—the big red one—got into the kitchen and there was ructions while we tried to huss her back outa doors. The youngsters chased her into the pantry and wouldn’t let her out. Then she pecked Marjorie’s leg and she started screechin’ and bawlin’.”
    â€œThe broody one?” said Agnes. “She needs to set her mind on pushin’ out a few eggs rather than comin’ into the house and tormentin’.”
    â€œThe very words I said to her, the very words!” said Elfreda. “‘Because,’ I said to her, ‘if I don’t see an egg soon, you’re gonna find yourself in the roaster with nothing but onions for company.’”
    â€œProper thing!” Agnes cackled. “Let me know when you do it and I’ll be over to greet her when you take the cover off.”
    â€œThem youngsters took the good right outa me, my dear. They’re nothing but the torment, you know,” and then Elfreda added with a twinkle, “oh, but I loves to see them comin’. Sit down and have a spell, now; I’ll get some tea hove up.”
    Pouring two cupfuls, Elfreda sat down at the table across from her daughter-in-law. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, look at the feathers! The place is in slings,” she said. “We’ll drink our tea now and then you can give me a hand to tidy up. Did Simeon and his boys get away for the ice yet?”
    â€œThey went yesterday,” Agnes replied. “They were going to spend last night at Eli Horwood’s in Cottle’s