Read Online Newfoundland Stories by Eldon Drodge - Free Book Online Page B

as if it were there and he was often known to say, “I allow I’m the only man in the world that ever had arthritis in a wooden leg.” Cecil, too, at times felt aches and pains in limbs that no longer existed.
    The indomitable spirit that had guided their footsteps that morning in 1915 when they set off to war still breathed in each of them as strongly as ever. Individually they had been, and still were, inspirational models of courage and perseverance. Together they soared. And their community knew it.
    AUTHOR’S NOTE
    This fictional account of Elijah, John, and Cecil was inspired during a visit my wife and I made to a small community in Notre Dame Bay where we were invited into the home of a gentleman resident. While there, we were shown an artificial leg, proudly preserved as a family treasure, which had been worn by the man’s father who had served in World War I, and we were told the war veteran’s story.
    Having lost a leg and having suffered other serious injuries during the Battle of the Somme, the soldier had eventually returned home, overcome his tragic circumstances, married and raised a large family, and lived out a productive life as a fisherman and respected member of his community.
    Upon reflection, both my wife and I realized that this soldier’s story was similar to those repeated in communities all over Newfoundland, for of the 801 soldiers who fought in the Battle of the Somme only 69 had been left physically unscathed. All of the others had either been wounded, many of them very seriously, or killed in action on the battlefield.

THE LIGHT IN
THE GARDEN
    E ven though it wasn’t Sunday and he wasn’t supposed to be there, Ned was curled up on the settee in the front parlour reading his dog-eared copy of Zane Grey’s Riders of the Purple Sage for at least the fifth time. As a twelve-year-old, he had many chores he was expected to do each day. Having completed them for now, he had quietly crept into the room reserved for the Sabbath and other special occasions to pursue his favourite pastime, a rare opportunity during weekdays. He was starting chapter two when his mother, Ruth, called from the kitchen.
    â€œNed,” she said, “I want you to take this drop of soup over to Aunt Alice for me.”
    â€œOh, no,” he groaned. If he had known that was coming he would have tried to be somewhere else, Zane Grey or not. He hated having to go over to that place. It was so gloomy and depressing that he always came back feeling gloomy and depressed himself.
    â€œMake sure you walk around the long way,” his mother added, “so you won’t spill any of it climbing over the fences. And remember to bring back the pot.”
    It hadn’t always been so solemn over at Aunt Alice and Uncle Simon’s house. In fact, not long ago, Ned had loved going over there because it was so bright and cheerful. His aunt and uncle always made a fuss over him, and there was always a glass of syrup and a piece of cake or a few sweet biscuits to be had. To him it was like most other houses in the small community, a place where people laughed, carried on, and cared about each other. A place that made you feel welcome.
    But no longer. He now went only when he was forced to – like now. Aunt Alice was sure to be there; she never left the house these days, but she was nothing like her old self. Usually when he went in now, Ned would find her crying and muttering about things that didn’t make a whole lot of sense. Uncle Simon, on the other hand, was hardly ever home. He was usually up in the woods or roaming somewhere around the harbour. Ned had a feeling that Uncle Simon felt a lot like he did.
    It had all started a little more than a year ago, around the middle of May, when Uncle Simon came over one morning to tell Jake, Ned’s father, and Ruth about his experience the previous night.
    â€œA funny thing happened,” he told them. “I went out around the