Chapter 22
“What do they call that Lake, George?”
“Molly, it’s called Lake Winnipeg. We’re almost there, our new home in the wilderness.”
“I can’t see land on the other side. How large is it?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll need to stay close to the shore as we move along. It can be a stormy, dangerous place, yet if we stay close to land, the voyage should be safe enough.”
Stormy? Dangerous? Could anything have been as bad as the past couple of weeks, portage after endless portage? Once we left York Factory, I remarked to Doctor Edwards that beauty and danger are sometimes mixed together. I did not think much of the conversation at the time, but each day along this river reminds me of those fateful words. Angus has been the only person hurt on this trip, yet everyone appears ragged and weary. If the gates of hell opened up and allowed men a rest in exchange for their soul, I am sure some on this expedition would take up the offer gladly.
“Molly?” George inquired, “Are you alright?” Moving close to me, he took my hand, letting our fingers intertwine.
“I’m alright George. I’m just tired. I hope we might stay here a while before we move on.”
“I think we’ll stay here at Norway House for at least a couple of days. There are some small repairs that have to be made to the York Boats, and even MacDonell knows a little rest is needed.”
“That’s good news.” I drew closer to George and placed my head on his shoulder. “How much longer do you think it will take before we finally make it?”
“Poor Molly,” George quipped, as he gently placed his arm around me. “Beyond this lake is Red River. Once we’re at the mouth of the river, the settlement will be quite close. And once we finally get there, the true adventure can begin.” George laughed, and I started to smile.
With the sound of crickets in the background, I became hypnotized by the sound of George’s breathing. He seemed so calm, so strong and so at ease. He could not be much older than I was, yet in his young life he had already seen and done so much. It was these moments we shared together, privately, that have helped me so much to keep up my strength, my resolve in the face of so much pain my family has had to endure. As the sun set, we both lost track of the time resting in each others’ innocent embrace. Just when I thought this scene could not be any more perfect, I heard laughter and giggling not ten feet behind where we stood.
Pulling away from George, I demanded, “Who is out there? Is that you Liam?”
Quietly, I received my reply: “There’s no one here except for us crickets. Chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp…”
George started to laugh quietly to himself, which made me even more furious. “Liam Fraser, you get out of those bushes right now before I pull you out by the ears.”
Giggling, Liam got up from his hiding place and presented himself to us. “Queen Molly,” he began, “I am yours to command. What do the good queen and her king want from me?” I didn’t like what he was saying, the silly little game he was playing, but Liam could not stop himself from laughing.
“Liam, what the hell are you doing, sneaking and spying on people? You know you should be with Mama back at camp.” Such a perfect mood spoiled by my bratty little brother.
“Mama has asked for your majesty back at the camp. She may want to know a little about what you were doing out here with King George.”
I started to feel ashamed, but being embarrassed was nothing compared to the anger I felt. “Come here my subject,” I coyly said, pretending to play along with his silly little game. Once Liam was within reach, I took his ear and pulled his face close, making sure to use my nails as I pinched him.
“Molly, that hurts. What are you doing?”
“I’m your queen, and I command you to keep what you see here a secret. Do you understand?”
“Let go,” he whimpered.
“Molly,” George interrupted, “Let the poor boy go. Sooner or later someone in your family is going to find out how I feel about you.”
“Mama already knows,” I responded, “But the last thing I want is for Liam to start making a joke about how I feel too. Do you hear me Liam?”
“I’d hear you better if you let go of my ear.”
I let go of my little brother, and he immediately reached up and started to rub where I had pinched him. Feeling I may have been a bit too mean, I decided to take it a little easier on him. “Liam, I’m sorry I pinched your ear a little too hard, but you startled me, and I’m in no mood to play games.”
“But ever since Angus broke his arm he has not been any fun.”
“Do you blame him? Anyone of us with a bad arm would probably want to take it a little easy. But that is not the point right now. The point is this: you are not going to start opening your mouth about what you’ve seen. If you do, you’ll get pinched ears and a smack across the head. Do you understand?”
“Yes Molly, I understand.”
“Now let’s go back to camp with everyone else,” I ordered. As Liam turned around, I looked at George who gave me a little smile. He didn’t have family who worried about what he did, but being a boy, it probably did not matter too much anyway. Luckily, he is liked by everyone, but who knows what Papa and Willie might think if they knew George and I cared for each other.
Back at camp, everyone was in good spirits. MacDonell had given the word we would stay a day to rest for the final leg of our journey. To celebrate our progress, bottles were passed around, and men were taking long drinks.
“Not so much,” Papa demanded of Willie. “There’s more than enough to go around.”
“Whisky never tasted so good,” my uncle responded. “The pain in my neck and back is god awful, but the pain in my arse is something much, much worse.” Laughing to himself, he took another, drops of liquor dribbling down his chin.
“Ah yes,” Mr. Docherty replied. “I too have a pain in my arse, but not always from sitting. Young William, have you not enjoyed our time together floating down the river?” Mr. Docherty turned and gave me a wink. He wanted to get my uncle going.
“I’ve seen the way you handle an oar,” Willie retorted. “I think the word floating just about says how you handle yourself Robert.”
“Is that you or the whisky talking Willie? I’ve also had a good eye for how you’ve handled the boat. I keep thinking to myself, is this a Fraser from the Highlands or an Irishman who sits near me every day?”
“Careful there Robert, or you’ll see how much like the Irish I can be.” Getting up from his seat, Willie made his way over to Mr. Docherty, looking like he would knock him down where he stood. Papa moved in to stop something that could have gone bad in the flash of an eye.
“Willie, calm down. Sit and take another sip of your bottle, and don’t mind yourself about Robert. All men on our York boat have handled themselves well. How many portages have we been through since this journey started? Twenty? Thirty perhaps? Each one bleeds into the other like a nightmare unwilling to end. Sore arse, sore legs, sore arms… Is there not any part of us that does not feel pain? A better question is where don’t you feel pain?”
“I would say my head, except for the mosquitoes that buzz around it all the time and the pinches from my older sister,” Liam quipped.
“If you keep talking, you will find even more pain than the occasional bite or pinch,” I responded.
“Now Molly,” began Papa. “I know your brother can be a handful, and you have done well taking care of him and the others. But don’t start talking like you have been drinking too.”
“Yes Papa, I’m sorry. Perhaps I need to go to bed now. I do feel awful tired.” All of a sudden a wave of sleepiness hit me.
Papa came close to me, and, giving me a hug, whispered his love for me in no uncertain terms. Saying goodnight to all by the fire, I retired to my tent where I almost collapsed to the ground. As I lay quietly, waiting for sleep, I overheard the laughter and voices of the men outside. Gone was
the anger from before and in its place were the sounds of friendship, the kind of friendship experienced by men who have travelled and endured so much together. I started to laugh at how silly I was to get so angry about my brother. Surely I have been through enough to not let something so small become so large.