******
Mattie dried the last dish from their breakfast, and set it in the upper cabinet. The warm breeze blew in from the open window, and she listened to the sounds of the waves as she wiped down the counter top. She lifted her left hand to admire her ring, and watched the round-cut diamond sparkle as she turned her fingers to catch the morning sunlight that streamed in from the window, and sighed. What a beautiful proposal. Now, there was so much more to do. They'd discussed a wedding date, as they sat together at the dining table over their scrambled eggs and bacon, and just the thought of it caused her to blink her eyes to keep back the tears. They already had a venue decided on - the small inn to the south of them, near Ingonish, where they'd gone for that wonderful lobster dinner. It was perched on a hilltop overlooking the ocean, and their guests could stay there over the wedding weekend, or for as long as they liked. They'd decided on a tentative date - Saturday, the eighth of August, since all their family and friends would be making a very long trek to attend their nuptials, and that was a mere seven weeks away. She needed to start making her lists as soon as she finished with the kitchen. She glanced at her watch. Clay had headed to the post office to mail a blueprint to his brother, while she finished up some chores around the house. She brushed her hand across the leg of her blue jeans as she got out the broom from beside the fridge.
As she swept the floor, she thought about how their lives had merged so seamlessly since she'd moved here a month ago. Clay worked several hours a day at his table on his architectural designs, as she, a few feet away, typed her transcript for the publisher, or catalogued the slide suggestions at her desk. She smiled to herself at how well her new career was proceeding. Ann had delivered as promised, and after mailing them a sample of her lesson plans, and a few phone calls back and forth with the educational publishing company, they'd sent her a contract, which she'd signed with no hesitation whatsoever. The agreement specified the compilation of six textbooks, each on a specific period of world history, so she would be working on the books for quite some time. The agreed-upon dollar amount would be stretched out in monthly payments, as long as she kept up her end of the contract and sent in each chapter to the editor in a timely manner. Afterward, she and Clay had gone out to a cozy restaurant in Ingonish to celebrate her new career as a writer.
As she swept the dust into the dustpan, she tilted her head. What was that odd noise? She set down the broom and pan, and walked over to the window, and once more heard what she could only describe as a slurping sound. She craned her neck to the right, and was aghast to see a moose in their side yard, its head dangling over the white fence as it feasted on her bright red-orange snap dragons, which had bloomed so beautifully. She rapped on the upper window pane, and sighed loudly, aggravated that the moose turned his head toward her as he chewed, but didn't seem deterred in the least. He would probably eat all the flowers in her garden if she didn't stop him.
"Shoo...Shoo!" Well, yelling out the window didn't seem to help either, so she headed out the front door and walked around to the side of the house facing the ocean. She put her hands on her hips in frustration as she watched him. She couldn't remember if moose were known to charge humans so she kept her distance, to be on the safe side. The very large, bony animal had now moved on to her beautiful purple loosestrife. She clapped her hands loudly at the moose.
"Shoo...Go away...Shoo!" she yelled as loudly as she could. She looked around for something to throw near him, and spied a smooth rock in the corner of the flowerbed next to her. She tossed it near his front hoof, and prepared to make a run for it if he came her way, but to her immense relief, saw the animal back up and amble away in the opposite direction, toward the back of the house. "Good...Now stay away from my flowers!" she yelled at him as he turned the corner and was out of sight. She heard the crunch of gravel and swung around to see the Jeep at the top of the driveway. She saw Clay alight from the vehicle, laughing as he peered in the direction of the moose's exit. He strode toward her, rubbing his short beard with one hand, as he held a wad of mail in the other.
"We've had a visitor, eh?"
"Yes, and Clay...he ate several of my flowers. I'm really aggravated at that. They were blooming so nicely," she had to laugh though, as she lifted her face to his.
He kissed her softly. "We'll have deer and moose around here quite a lot, I'm afraid. We'll have to figure a way to keep them out of the garden." He looked down at her as she eyed the stack of envelopes in his hand. "I should have thought of that before."
"I see we have some mail."
"Yes, George handed these to me before I left. They hadn't made their rounds yet. He said to tell you hi."
She took the envelopes from him, and scanned through the stack as they stood in front of the house. "He's such a sweet man. I'll go with you next time." She'd been surprised that he looked almost exactly as she'd pictured him when they'd talked over the phone, and she considered him one of the kindest men she'd ever known. He nodded as she held up a yellow envelope. "Oh, here's one from Fran." She handed him the rest of the envelopes, and ran her finger under the flap. "I wonder what she and Jerry are up to now." She smiled up at him, as she unfolded the pale yellow notepaper, and looked down as something fell out onto the grass. She reached down and picked up the newpaper clipping, and another envelope, folded in half.
"Oh...oh, no...no!"
"What's wrong, Mattie?"
She looked at him, her eyes wide, then she swung around, and stumbled toward the ocean.
"Mattie!"
She could hear him behind her, but she kept going until she reached the edge of the cliff and she held the papers down at her side, and sobbed uncontrollably. She raised her head and looked out over the beautiful ocean, so serene...so blue. Her hair lifted and swirled in the breeze as she looked up at the white clouds drifting above her, and she heard Clay's frantic voice.
"Mattie," he walked around in front of her and grabbed her shoulders gently. "What is it?"
Her shoulders heaved against his strong hands, as she tried to compose herself, and she bent her head to get her breath, holding up the letter and envelope, and clipping. He took them from her and scanned the clipping quickly.
"Mattie - I'm so very sorry..."
She raised herself up and gazed out over the ocean.
"He had so much to live for, Clay. He was only nineteen." Her voice trembled, and Clay reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief and handed it to her as he wrapped one arm around her shoulder. She wiped her face and blew her nose, and looked back out over the ocean, her eyes burning from the tears. "He cared so much, Clay. He was a good student and a good young man. He came to see me before he went to boot camp, did I tell you that?" She looked up into his eyes, and fresh tears poured down her cheeks. "I...I even thought..." her voice was ragged, "...that if I ever had a son, I would want him to be like Matthew. And now he's gone....his life is over." She rubbed her lips as she tried to compose herself, and she wiped her eye and nose again. She gazed out at the ocean. "It's over for him..." she sighed. "...on this earth, at any rate." She turned to him now, her eyes dry. "I knew this was going to happen. I knew as soon as he left my classroom that he wasn't going to return from the war." She let him wrap his arms around her now, and she leaned onto his broad chest, and felt him stroke her back. "It's so wrong, Clay." her voice was muffled against his shirt as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "It's so wrong."
"If you want to stay out here a while, I'll go in and get us a blanket and something to drink," he tilted his head down to look into her red, swollen eyes. She nodded at him numbly and he released her, and handed her the papers. She turned her gaze back to the idyllic scenery before her, her eyes burning. Her chest hurt from the aching. She took a deep breath as she saw him emerge from the house holding the same gray blanket he'd brought with him for their first horse-back riding date, and balancing two glasses of lemonade. She took the blanket from him and spread it out for them, and sat down. She laid the
papers on her jeans and reached for the glass. She sipped the cold drink, and took another deep breath as Clay sat on the blanket beside her.
"Thank you." She turned to him. "I'm sorry I reacted like that, Clay." She shook her head. "Even though I knew it was possible, it was still a shock."
"You have nothing to apologize for, Mattie. He was a fine young man, and it's a tragedy that his life was cut short."
"He was, Clay," she sniffed and smiled at him. "Matthew was the student who told me about the protest that night...the night when I first saw you." They both smiled at that. "He was the young man on the steps of the Administration Building, singing the protest songs. He was arrested and expelled during the sit-in the next week."
"I recognized him from the photo." Clay nodded thoughtfully, his voice soft, and he rested his hand on her left knee. "Did I tell you that I'd spoken to him before the first protest?"
"No," she looked at him in surprise.
"I'd heard about the proposed protest from a concerned parent at the hospital, so I got to the campus before it began that night." He rubbed her knee and corset through the denim fabric as he spoke. "There were five students in charge, and we sat on the steps of the Administration Building, and just talked about their agenda." He narrowed his warm eyes at her. "Matthew was a very intelligent guy...very cognizant of the issues pertaining to the war."
"I'm glad you met him, Clay," Mattie smiled at him softly. "Thank you for telling me that."
"We can stay out here as long as you want." He patted her knee and she nodded. "When did he die, does it say?"
She sniffed and picked up the newspaper obituary. She stared at the grainy black and white photo of her former student, dressed in his uniform, and she sighed, and bit the side of her lip as she saw the serious and distant expression in his eyes, so unlike the fiery passion for his cause she had witnessed in her classroom the day of the protest. She scanned the obituary.
"It says that he was killed in combat on May twenty-eighth." She held up Fran's letter and scanned the flowery cursive as she cleared her throat.
"Fran said that she heard from another faculty member that he died in combat last month....and..." she sighed as she read further, "...there was a military funeral for him." She looked over at Clay. "...and she thought I'd want to have his obituary and his letter," she sighed, feeling totally spent now. "Oh, Clay, there's a letter from him." She unfolded the envelope and looked at the front of the envelope, with the red, white, and blue border, and took a deep breath. She slid her index finger under the sealed flap and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She turned and stared at Clay for a moment, then unfolded the sheet.
"He wrote this May twentieth, Clay." She sighed and read aloud, her voice low and hesitant.
Dear Professor Shaw,
She paused for a moment, picturing Matthew writing the letter, and she tried to keep her emotions in check as she continued.
Thank you for the letter and the box of snacks. My buddies and I enjoyed them a lot. Well, all I can say is that it rains here more than you could even imagine, and I'm still not used to the heat and humidity. I've made a lot of friends here, and we've had to make some very unpleasant trips up into the mountain this week. It's something that is hard to forget. I can't talk about it, but hope my platoon is done with that for the rest of my tour of duty.
Mattie looked at Clay, and took a deep breath and continued, almost in a whisper.
Thank you for thinking of me while I'm here, Professor Shaw. You might be interested to know that I've decided that when I get out of here, I'm going to enroll in the community college in my hometown and go for a teaching degree. Hard to believe, I know, but that's what's on my mind now. I was undecided on a major when I attended Brooksford, but now I can't wait to be in a classroom again, with a real purpose toward the future.
There's been a lot more noise around here lately, and even though it makes you a little nervous, you can't let it get to you. That's another reason I appreciate your letters. Thank you for inspiring me, and I hope I will make you and my parents proud of my accomplishments.
Sincerely,
Matthew
Her mouth was dry as she concluded the letter, and she gazed out onto the ocean before her, as Clay wrapped his arm around her shoulders and leaned over to kiss her gently on her damp cheek. They sat on the blanket, watching the waves crash on the sand and rocks beneath them, silent in the face of another death from the now overwhelmingly detested war fought by a country they'd left behind for a time. She realized that in the month she'd been in Cape Breton, the war had receded to the back of her mind, much as Brooksford had. They'd turned on the news from time to time and listened with interest at Canada's version of the war news.
She sighed as her thoughts returned to Matthew and how he'd bravely entered a war he'd fought against to make his parents proud, and had been killed while she and others were busily going about their everyday lives. She hoped his death had been quick. That he hadn't suffered. There was no way to ever know that, she knew. He was in a better place now, she knew that as well...where there was no war, no hatred...only love and complete understanding. She gazed at the blue sky and the billowing white clouds that skirted the horizon. He could be looking down on them all right now, with the millions of other souls, feeling infinite compassion for the human race, with its insatiable penchant for war, and all things violent. She knew he wasn't the only student from Brooksford to be drafted, and the list of names of those who didn't make it back from the war zone would continue to grow. She and Clay had added their time and energy to the protest effort, and now, with the country overwhelmingly positioned on the side of ending the war, perhaps the conflict would soon be resolved. She blinked her eyes softly, thinking of how she could best honor her student. She needed to write his parents a note of condolence, letting them know how highly their son was regarded, and at some point, when she and Clay traveled back to the states, they would visit his grave in Arlington.
Mattie sighed, grateful to Clay for sitting with her for so long as she mourned her student and wrestled with thoughts of his death.
"I'm ready to go in now, I think," she turned to him and smiled, but her eyes felt dull. She saw him nod, and gaze at her intently, then he got up, and took their glasses. She stood up, holding the letter, envelope, and Matthew's obituary, and moved off the blanket so Clay could pull it up, and he slung it across his arm. "Thank you for staying with me, Clay."
"Take your time, Mattie." he held her elbow as they walked back to the house. "I'm here if you need me."
They entered the cottage, and Mattie decided that she'd wait until the next day to call Fran. Clay looked through the rest of the mail, and left the stack on the dining table. He pulled out some of his drawings from one of the bins and sat down at his drafting table, and she saw him slant his eyes over to her every so often. She put on one of her records of violin concertos, and felt her heart relax as she listened to one of her favorites, Meditation by Massenet. The soothing strains of the violin filled the small cottage, and she tried to concentrate on her writing as she worked at her desk. A sparkle in the sunlight pouring in from the window caught her eye and she stopped for a moment and stretched out her fingers on the desktop and stared down at her beautiful ring. She would work on their wedding plans in a couple of days, she decided...when she could put her whole heart into it.
That night, Clay held her as she fell into a restless sleep, and later, when she awoke to the sounds of the waves, his arm was still slung over her waist. She gazed at his handsome face, and smiled as he snored softly, knowing that she was going to be spending her life with this wonderful man. This gentle, kind, passionate man, whose heart was good, and whose thoughts were always for others' well-being. She marveled at how quickly she'd begun to think of Canada as her home. It now dawned on her that she would become a duel citizen when she married Clay, and their future children would as well. Where would they choose to make their permanent home, she wondered.
Matt
ie's thoughts drifted back to the untimely death of her student, and she sighed, and closed her eyes, knowing that when she awoke the next morning, the sadness for Matthew's passing would still be in her heart, and she vowed that she would find a way to keep his youthful fervor and his memory alive.