Out of the Mist Read Free Page B

Jack
Russell terrier that traveled on his schooner with him. On land,
for many years he had an old Canadian gander, a large grey-backed
bird with a honking bill that would follow him down the street.
Ludicrous though it was, no one laughed at Captain Archie. After
the gander passed away (some said from overeating, as the Captain
was generous with his mascots), Archie adopted an orphaned raven,
which would perch on his shoulder like an evil genius. It flew
around his head while he did the garden chores, and learned to talk
in Captain Archie’s hoarse voice. “Avast,
there!” “Straighten up!” “Blast your eyes!” “Belay
that!”
    As for his wife, he might
be heard shouting at everyone else, including his three daughters
and young son, but he never raised his voice to Amelia. Formal
politeness covered whatever deep emotions—whether love or
anger—that lay between them. It is said that when she encountered
his first bout of temper not long after they were married, she met
it with calm disgust, and went on a very long visit to her father’s
home. He never showed his temper towards her again. She was a
reserved, some said cold, woman used to leading town society, and
not afraid to speak up, even to her father, the judge. She must
have let Archie know she could do very well without him, because he
had to come supplicating her to return to their house on Edwards’
Neck.
    Something fiery must have held them
together. She never separated from him again, and they became
parents of three daughters, and finally after a gap of years, they
were blessed with a long-awaited son, Archie Edwards, Junior.
    As a boy, Junior Edwards saw his father
perhaps two months out of the year, as the Captain was away on
voyages lasting three, four, or six months during the peak time of
his trading life. Junior was soon nick-named “June”, much to his
father’s disgust. He grew into a tall, gangly boy, all legs and
arms, with a knack for falling out of trees, getting stung by
wasps, and a genius for getting into awkward situations. His
mother’s darling, being her only boy, he was molly-coddled while
his father was away, and bullied when his father was home. June
rarely came up to his father’s demanding expectations.
    Handing a can of paint up
to his father, who was painting the house, June managed to tip the
paint can all over himself. “Clumsy idiot!” his father shouted,
while his mother wrapped him in towels and took him inside for a
bath. June couldn’t seem to keep out of trouble. When a baseball
went through a neighbour’s window, the other boys managed to slip
away through a hedge, and June was caught. On Hallowe’en, when he
and his buddies removed a gate from the town hall fence, it was
June whom a policeman collared while the other boys crouched out of
sight in a ditch.
    June was a cheerful chap,
though, trying his best, and in spite of the constant criticism, he
admired his father, and wanted to please him. When he was 14, he
was thrilled when Captain Archie decided to take him on a
three-month trading voyage on the schooner. Two weeks later, June
returned on the train from Boston. He had been sea-sick, not just
the usual couple of hours, or even a day, but the whole two weeks,
alternately hanging over the rail, or bundled into his berth. On
arriving back in Shag Harbour, June was not so much cast down as
relieved to be in his own comforting home locale.
    While his father was away,
June faithfully looked after Captain Archie’s mascot, the black
raven that lived in the trees nearby and flew down to the kitchen
door each morning for hand-outs. June would still be startled by
its voice. “Straighten Up!” the raven would cry, and June’s spine would
stiffen as if his father were after him, even though the Captain
was away. To June, constant harassment and criticism was normal,
and he did not expect anything different.
    As the twenties turned to
the thirties, the coastal trade diminished. Captain Arch and Amelia
saw