Where Old Ghosts Meet by Kate Evans Page B

wasn’t much but it bought seed and plants enough for the garden and a bit of flour and molasses and the like. Havin’ a bit of cash was important for the likes of me because I couldn’t get credit from the merchant against my catch because I didn’t have such a thing.”
    She paused, looking out again over the water.
    â€œI remember the day a woman brought me a length of beautiful corduroy. She wanted two pairs of pants made, one for her husband and one for her boy. Well, I was frightened to death the way I was going to spoil it. I could see how to do the legs and the front, but how to get around the backside, you know.” She made a curving motion with her hand. “Well, it came to me to get my father’s old overalls and rip them open to see how it was done. I lay it all on the floor and I could see how it was slack down below in the gusset and how it came in on the waist. There was no zippers in those days, just what we called a fly and that was no problem. My dear, they turned out wonderful! I put pockets and all in them. After that there was no stoppin’ me. But you don’t want to hear all this old foolishness, do you?”
    â€œNo, no, I’d love to hear more, but I’m concerned that you’ll tire yourself out and that I won’t know when it’s time to go.”
    â€œYou don’t want to worry about that, my dear. I’ve had a lot of old stuff balled up inside of me for a long time, waitin’ to be told to the right person. You’re the right person, girl, I know that.” Reaching over, she patted Nora’s knee. There was urgency in her touch, a pressure that bid her to stay. “I want to tell you, if you have the time to listen.”
    The old woman’s eyes darted back and forth, looking to pick up the threads of her story.
    â€œThat first time, when he come by, Matt stayed on a nice while with us. We had plenty of room in the house and we were glad of the company. He paid his board, so long as he had a bit of money. The way it was then, with my father sick and havin’ to have everything done for him, it was good for me to have another pair of hands around. He took right over in the garden. The vegetables were good that year. At least I thought so. He just had a way with growing things. There was no end of trouble he’d go to. He’d watch over every plant, bringing them along ’til they came strong and healthy. But he wasn’t happy with the result; the potatoes were small, the cabbages not right, the ground poor. I had to take them up myself and store them in the root cellar. I believe those vegetables would have rotted right there in the ground if it was up to Matt. It didn’t seem to matter to him that he was helpin’ provide food for us all.”
    She looked down at her hands where they lay lightly clasped in her lap. “Everything about him was different, and tell truth that’s what I liked so much. He–”
    â€œSo this is where you’re to!” A short, stocky, middle-aged man came through the back door. “I’ve brought some tongues for supper and laid them in the fridge.”
    â€œI told you he’d be down later. This is Pat, my nephew, my sister Ellen’s boy. Looks after me, he does, like nobody else. Now Pat, come over here. You’re in for a surprise when I tell you who this is. It’s Matt’s granddaughter Nora, come to see us, all the way from Ireland.”
    He came and stood by Peg. Nora noticed the pale, steady eyes, Peg’s eyes. He stood motionless, his sturdy frame rooted to the ground, and regarded Nora with an easy confidence. When he was ready he stepped forward and offered his heavy square hand. There was no hostility in his look but he didn’t say a word as he shook her hand. He turned to Peg. “Now you be careful and don’t catch too much sun, there’s a breeze up here but it’s hot just the same. Do you want