Down Jasper Lane (Amherst Island Trilogy)

“You’re clever enough. Things can happen if you make them, Ellen. You should ask your aunt and uncle to let you come back.” Lucas paused, and a mottled flush appeared above his celluloid collar. “I’d like it if you did.”

“I hope I can.” More than she’d ever admit to Lucas, or even herself. Ellen glanced once more around the room. “Will Jed take the entrance examination to Glebe?”

“Pa wants him to take it this spring,” Lucas said. “But Jed’s dragging his feet, as always. He told Pa he’d rather stay at the farm than go away to Kingston.” Ellen detected a very slight sneer in Lucas’ voice, or perhaps it was just disbelief. She had the feeling that Lucas couldn’t wait to leave the farm, whereas Jed simply wanted to stay. The two brothers couldn’t be more different.

“Well, we’ll see,” she finally said, “what happens in 1905.”

Yet at that moment she didn’t want the clock to ring in the New Year, or the old one to pass. For in 1905 she would return to Seaton, and face her aunt and uncle and the drudgery of the store, and all Ellen wanted was to stay on the island forever.

FOUR

New Year’s came and went, the snow melted into a January thaw, and soon Ellen realized the three months which had glistened so promisingly ahead of her were now slipping away like pearls off a string. Every day seemed so sweet, so short, and she found herself perched on her windowsill each evening, watching the sun slip towards the lake and lamenting the end of the day.

“Why can’t you stay longer?” Caro demanded one day as they helped Rose and Dyle empty the sap pails in the woods behind the farm.

Ellen had never been part of a syruping before, and she was fascinated with the process; she loved the gentle plink-plink of the sap as it dripped into the tin buckets, the frothy foam that came to the top of the pan as it boiled; and best of all, the finished syrup, thick and brown and sweet, which they poured directly onto the snow from a ladle, and let it harden into swirls and designs that they could then break off and eat.

Now she sucked on a piece of the maple candy and shook her head. “I wish I could,” she told Caro, “but Aunt Ruth and Uncle Hamish want me back. I’ve been gone half the year.”

“So?” Caro pouted, hands on hips. “They didn’t want you in the first place, did they?”

Ellen winced at Caro’s blunt speaking, even though she wondered herself if it was true. Aunt Ruth still wrote diligently every week, and Ellen always responded. The letters had exchanged a variety of news without seeming to hold much affection or warmth.

“Maybe so,” she said at last, “but Aunt Ruth has bid me home, and she’s even sent the train fare.” It had arrived last week, and the tickets lay in a brown envelope on the parlor mantle, next to the porcelain clock. Ellen did not even like to look at those tickets. She could not bear the thought of that endless train ride, and then stuffy Seaton at its end... She pictured the sitting room with its horsehair sofa and relentlessly polished furniture, the big kitchen with its proud icebox, even the store with its long marble counter and shiny scales. Compared to the McCaffertys’ lovable shabbiness, she could not stand any of it.

And as for her aunt and uncle... guilt niggled at her when she thought of them. They had been kind to her in their own way, and certainly generous. They’d taken her in, and fed and clothed her, and then of course there was the red velvet dress, once more swathed in tissue paper, lying in its big box in her bedroom. Ellen wondered if she would ever wear it again.

Caro suddenly threw her arms around Ellen. “Well, I don’t want you to go,” she said, and Ellen returned the rather sticky hug with a sad smile.

The days slipped by faster and faster, or so it seemed to Ellen. A blur of color and wonder and fun, although there was hard work too, helping with the syrup which Dyle took over to the mainland after the ice broke up, and sold in Kingston and even Watertown, in New York State, bringing back little presents for them all. For Ellen he had a box of colored pencils. She’d never seen so many different colors before.

Ellen found herself dawdling at the strangest moments, washing dishes or doing her sums or making her bed, as if slowing herself down would slow time down too, although of course it didn’t. Time just seemed to go faster and faster, each day coming and going in a blur until there was only a week left before Captain Jonah would take her back to the mainland in his funny little boat.

That Friday afternoon Jed took the entrance examination for Glebe Collegiate. He stayed alone after school, looking more sullen than ever, and Ellen walked back with the McCaffertys and Lucas, thinking of Jed crammed into that little desk, scowling down at his paper and scratching his way through his sums.

“Do you think he’ll pass?” she asked Lucas, who just shrugged.

“Jed was never much of one for learning,” he said, “but he’s smart enough.”

Ellen said nothing, but her insides churned on Jed’s account. She knew school didn’t come easily to Jed, and the thought of him failing, failing something Lucas, no doubt, would pass easily, made her offer another awkward prayer to God.

Dear God. It’s me again. Ellen Copley. Could you please let Jed pass his entrance examination? Amen.

They’d just reached Jasper Lane, the oak trees that lined the little drive now stark and bare, thrust up to the sky, when Ellen stopped in her tracks.

“I forgot my lunch pail!”

Caro rolled her eyes. “Oh Ellen, we’re nearly all the way home.”

“I know, but I’d better get it,” Ellen said, already turning around. “I’ll need it for tomorrow. Tell Aunt Rose I’ll be home as quick as I can.”

She hurried back towards school almost eagerly, and she knew it was because she wanted to see if Jed had passed or not. He’d taken the exam that afternoon, and Miss Gardiner had said she’d mark it straight after. She could be finished by now.

Ellen was just approaching the school when the door banged open and Jed strode out, a particularly fierce scowl darkening his face. Ellen took an inadvertent step back. He didn’t see her, and she watched as he kicked at a maple tree before resting his forehead briefly against the rough bark, his eyes scrunched shut.

Ellen didn’t move, barely even breathed, but Jed sensed her anyway for he opened his eyes and stepped back from the tree, turning to glare at her. “What are you doing hiding in the woods, Miss Bossy?”

Ellen swallowed, her heart thudding hard. “I just came back for my lunch pail. But... I’m sorry, Jed.”