Tag Archives: love story

Smugglers’ Cove . . .Between

Because of some SERIOUS requests I have written another chapter for Smuggler’s Cove. If you insist on another one I may comply but I will kill them . . . horribly! hee hee hee

The surface of the river was still, almost glass like. Looking deep you could see the current running swiftly down stream. Hungry birds circled overhead, looking for a meal. A small fish leapt above the safety of the river narrowly missing becoming lunch. For a moment the world was quiet.

And then chaos. . . .

“John! Help! I can’t . . .” For only a few seconds a woman’s head broke the surface before she was dragged back down into the darkness. The unforgiving depths do not like to give back.

“Oh, my God! I’m coming! Please God don’t let her drown! Anna!”

Mere seconds behind the struggling woman was a man in a canoe. The terror on his face spoke volumes. More time went by as he searched for any sign of this woman that had enchanted his heart, his soul. He had to find her!

“Anna! Anna!” He shouted loudly.

“ Please God, save her.” He whispered to the universe. “Please!”

Two gentle souls had found each other in an out-of-way park and without meaning to, had fallen in love. John could not believe they would be separated so soon after finding each other. He felt the tears at the back of his eyes welling. His shoulders ached from the desperate paddling, his eyes searching for his heart.

“Please, plea . . . Anna!”

He spied her flowing red hair glistening in the morning light. The only movement was with the water’s drift trying to tug it free from a branch.

Another foot and he could see a shoulder. It was deathly pale.

“Please . . .”

When the canoe was within reach John jumped out next to the body of his beloved. Immediately he felt the water dragging at his clothes, determined to pull him down. The canoe, caught by another branch, floated nearby. John’s hands trembled, unsure, desperate to know.

“Anna…” He barely breathed . . .

As he turned her body over an eyelid flickered. She was alive!

With that almost imperceptible movement John reacted. His training took over his actions. He checked her pulse: strong. Breathing: shallow but steady. Pupils: reactive. Small contusion on forehead. She was safe to move. She needed to be warm and monitored. He needed to check for other possible injuries.

The next few minutes became a blur. John was able to disentangle Anna and get her to shore. It may only have been a few feet but it felt like miles. He made sure she was safe and returned for the canoe. Those supplies could make the difference between living and dying.

When John and Anna made the decision to run away they left behind their lives as well as their cell phones. They were on their own now.

It took a little time but John was able to make a fire, make Anna comfortable and put water on to boil. He cleaned her wounds. They were minor and should pose no future problems. Her breathing was stronger but still she slept. John agonized over whether to leave her to find help or to stay. A little tea should help. While he busied himself with the mundane tasks of finding the tea and cups he was able to calm down. They would survive this. She would survive this.

His head was down, diligently measuring tea leaves into a strainer when he heard a sound. He quickly looked to Anna, still she slumbered. He raised his eyes to the forest a few meters away. His heart stopped. There, just beside a very full tree was the largest wolf he had ever seen. John had seen hundreds in his years in the Parks Services but never one this close and this . . .alive. He was afraid to breath! And then it moved.

Wolves have a reputation as efficient killers, vicious animals that maul the unwary for fun. Nothing could be further from the truth. Wolves are intelligent pack animals who care deeply for their young and avoid people as much as possible. And yet here was a magnificent specimen silently staring at . . .Anna? Normally an adversary keeps his eyes on an opponent but that didn’t seem to be the case here. Why? Before John had finished his thought the wolf took a step forward and then another. Then it did the strangest thing: it sat. With it’s head cocked to one side and it’s tongue hanging out it look just like a family pet.

John sat back on his heals. The movement didn’t disturb the wolf at all. It’s gaze never left Anna. It didn’t seem to be aggressive, more . . . supportive? Was John dreaming? After what seemed to be hours the wolf slowly returned to the forest. At that moment the water started boiling furiously. John was reminded of his duties and returned to them.

The hours did pass. John tried to stay awake to tend to the fire and to worry about the wolf but the inevitable did happen. The stress, fear and fatigue took hold and John slept.

He was dreaming. He felt cool water on his face, he was drowning! With a yell he force his way up, clawing for the surface!

“John!”

With blinking eyes the man in question came awake. He was confused. He quickly looked to where Anna lay and she was gone!

“Anna?”

“I’m right here John, I’m fine. Look someone’s dog has come for a visit.”

Someone’s dog? John came awake in a hurry with that comment. He looked towards the sound of his beloved’s voice and saw her with a huge wolf gently accepting her ministrations. She was petting him and tugging at his ears and he seemed to like it!

“Anna, Anna . . that’s a wolf! A wild animal! You have to get away from him!”

Anna didn’t move except to give her newfound friend a hug.

“I had such awful dreams and then I felt this warmth embrace me. I felt such love. Then I felt a wet tongue on my face and it was Samson. He sat by me while you slept. I think he was keeping an eye on us both.

“You named a wild animal Samson?”

John started to laugh. It was so abrupt that both Anna and Samson were startled. Then they both joined in. Or, at least one did, the other gave the impression he was enjoying the process.

When the laughter died down the release was apparent. Then both John and Anna started to speak at the same time …

“I’m sorry!” “I’m sorry!”

“It was an accident. We’re both ok and we seemed to have gained a companion.”

Anna smiled at their new friend who promptly rolled on his back and presented his stomach for a rub.

John grinned at the two of them. A wild animal and a beautiful writer. What could be more incongruous and more appropriate? Perhaps Anna would write about a tame wolf named Samson in their new life. He would find an out-of-the-way park in which to work and Anna would write stories for children. All would be well. They had each other.

The end

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The Mists of Time

This story i for Linda G Hill.  It is a ghost story and a love story and it is historically correct.  I live in the town mentioned and their park is still here. Check out Just Jot It January at http://lindaghill.com/2016/01/29/just-jot-it-january-29th-ghost/

jjj-2016 (1)

No one knows exactly what happened on that final day or even what actually happened during the preceding weeks. He was one of the countless summer visitors that would arrive from places like Toronto by steamship. As many as 3000 people would visit Oakville in a single day. They mingled with the local folk in the beautiful summer days of that year. His name was Aloysius.

Her name was Mary. She was born on the 15th of April in the year of our Lord 1881. Her father worked in the Carson & Sons Planing Mill. He worked there for 30 years and for half of those years he carried a secret.

Mary didn’t have a mother. Or rather she didn’t remember her. She died while giving birth to Mary’s younger brother, he didn’t survive either. When she was very young Mary learned to take care of the house and her father. It’s what women did in those days, they took care of things.

Jacob was a good man, was Mary’s father. But he didn’t know what to do with his little girl. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was a young woman, a young, beautiful woman. Like the youth of all centuries she wanted some excitement. So on that fateful day she left the chores in her home to go for a walk in George’s Square.

Mary was positively giddy. It was a beautiful day, bright sunshine, a gentle breeze, and the smell of flowers the air. She didn’t go far; there was a park very close to her father’s work. He used to take her there when she was a small child. It was a favourite place for people to congregate. It is believed that’s where she met Aloysius.

“Hello.”

Mary turned around. What she saw made her smile and blush at the same time.

“Hello.”

“Are you from around here?” The smiling gentleman asked.

Mary blushed again. “Yes I am. Are you lost?”

The gentleman breathed deeply and put his hands in his pockets. “I have just come up from the city and I’m wondering where are the best places that I should visit. I’m only here for the day.” He looked down at this beautiful raven haired young woman, he was quite tall, “Would you be willing to show me the sites?”

Mary had been feeling the need for little excitement in her life, and here it was standing right in front of her. He looked to be a gentleman from the city, perhaps a wealthy gentleman. She was at first a little nervous but it was a beautiful day and she was feeling adventurous.

“I would love to give you a tour of the town. My name is Mary.”

“And you can call me Aloysius.”

“That is quite an unusual name.” She tried to hide her smile, unsuccessfully. Then she thought that perhaps she had been impolite.

The gentleman in question simply chuckled out loud, “I was named after my father, by my mother. It is quite a moniker.” His smile deepened. “It’s nice to be a little different.”

As the two walked through George’s Square they became more comfortable with each other. He was a young gentleman well attired and well spoken. She was a young girl, barely a woman with a girlish delight in being free.

We can’t know what was actually said when the two met but Mary kept a diary. Years later it would be found and many of the questions surrounding their story would be answered.

Aloysius was indeed a gentleman. Actually he was a gentleman’s gentleman. He was in service in the city of Toronto. Every Sunday he was given leave to pursue his own interests, whatever they may be. Once he met Mary he spent every Sunday of that fateful summer in the small town of Oakville, on the shores of Lake Ontario. They would visit the strawberry market, walk along the shoreline and picnic under the trees. Their friendship grew and over the many weeks so did their love.

During this time Mary’s father was under the impression that she was helping out at their local church. As he was not one to attend services he never questioned her supposed attendance. So he was completely unaware of the growing relationship between Mary and Aloysius. He wasn’t the only one. While they never intentionally hid themselves from Mary’s friends, they didn’t frequent areas that the others normally attended. But eventually the summer ended and so did the steamship from Toronto.

“Mary I’m asking you to come back to Toronto with me. You can live with my sister until the wedding. I know I can find you work with the mistress of the house. She is always looking for competent maids or perhaps a tutor for the children.”

Mary held the hands of the man she loved but she could not look him in the eye. “I have told my father nothing. He doesn’t even know you exist. I can’t just leave him”.

“Beloved I have to leave. This is the last boat of the season. I have no means to support myself here in Oakville. I have a good life in Toronto. We have talked about this. Let me approach your father and ask for your hand in marriage. He must agree.”

Very slowly Mary withdrew her hands from the grip of the man she loved. She still had not looked into his eyes. “I will speak to my father and I will return here shortly. The boat doesn’t leave for several hours. You must trust me. I will return.”

Slowly Mary raised her head and looked deep into the eyes of the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Her hand touched his cheek gently, no words were necessary. She smiled and left him waiting on the pier.

When Mary returned home her father wasn’t there. She knew he sometimes went into the plant on Sundays so that is where she went. It’s difficult to know what actually happened on that tragic day in Carson and Sons Planing Mill. What we do know is that Mary died in there. She may have fallen or she may have been struck down. No one knows or no one is speaking of it.

Mary’s father would not speak of that day except to say that there was an accident. Aloysius waited on the pier but his beloved never showed and he didn’t know why. He left on the last steamship of the summer.

The next year the steamships did not return to plying the waters near Oakville for passengers and Aloysius was unable to return to Mary. He tried writing letters but they were never answered. Many years went by, Jacob mourned the loss of his daughter but he never spoke of it to anyone. Some said they often found him sitting on a chair outside the Mill talking to himself. It sounded as if he was talking to someone else but no one was nearby. There are those who said he was talking to his daughter, or the spirit of his daughter. Perhaps he was trying to atone for what had happened. Jacob never said and he died the year the Mill was closed.

Aloysius eventually married. He had three daughters, the last one he called Mary. He was never a happy man; he rarely smiled and was never seen to laugh. After many years of marriage his wife died and his daughters married and had children of their own. In time Aloysius once again visited Oakville. It had been a lifetime and the town was no longer sleepy anymore. It was vibrant and alive. Aloysius went back to the places that he and Mary had once known. The shoreline was much more built up and the main street had more stores. The house where Mary had once lived was gone. George’s Square was still there and the trees were bigger and more lush. Aloysius sat on a bench and remembered how happy he had been so many years ago and he wondered if Mary was happy now.

It was dusk when a married couple out walking in the fresh autumn air noticed a well-dressed older man sitting on a park bench. When they returned from their constitutional the gentleman had not moved. The man stopped to inquire if there was anything wrong. That’s when he discovered that Aloysius had died. He had died in the last place that he was happy.

There are those who say that on a warm summer night just about dusk if you’re very careful and very lucky you can see the misty outline of two people sitting on a park bench. One shape is that of a well-dressed gentleman, a young man and the other is of a very young woman with long dark hair.

Perhaps what they could not have while they lived, they found together in the mists of the spirit world.

the end

 

 

Happily Ever After

IMG_0204

Happily ever after

is the end of every tale

but something must come next you see

the hero must not fail

Happily ever after

is not the title now

wrinkle cream and balding heads

reality takes a bow

Happily ever after

are the words we want to read

and yet this chapter’s still not written

we want another deed

Happily ever after

there are things we should not know

as long as they are happy now

the joy on each bestow

Happily ever after

can end this silly jaunt

he and she can still go forth

the next could be a haunt

The Mists of Time

Jan 30 2014 005

 

No one knows exactly what happened on that final day or even what actually happened during the preceding weeks.  He was one of the countless summer visitors that would arrive from places like Toronto by steamship.  As many as 3000 people would visit Oakville in a single day.  They mingled with the local folk in the beautiful summer days of that year.  His name was Aloysius.

Her name was Mary.  She was born on the 15th of April in the year of our Lord 1881.  Her father worked in the Carson & Sons Planing Mill.  He worked there for 30 years and for half of those years he carried a secret.

Mary didn’t have a mother.  Or rather she didn’t remember her.  She died while giving birth to Mary’s younger brother, he didn’t survive either.  When she was very young Mary learned to take care of the house and her father.  It’s what women did in those days, they took care of things.

Jacob was a good man, was Mary’s father.  But he didn’t know what to do with his little girl.  She wasn’t a little girl anymore.  She was a young woman, a young, beautiful woman. Like the youth of all centuries she wanted some excitement.  So on that fateful day she left the chores in her home to go for a walk in George’s Square.

Mary was positively giddy.  It was a beautiful day, bright sunshine, a gentle breeze, and the smell of flowers the air.  She didn’t go far; there was a park very close to her father’s work.  He used to take her there when she was a small child.  It was a favourite place for people to congregate.  It is believed that’s where she met Aloysius.

“Hello.”

Mary turned around.  What she saw made her smile and blush at the same time.

“Hello.”

“Are you from around here?”  The smiling gentleman asked.

Mary blushed again.  “Yes I am. Are you lost?”

The gentleman breathed deeply and put his hands in his pockets. “I have just come up from the city and I’m wondering where are the best places that I should visit.  I’m only here for the day.”  He looked down at this beautiful raven haired young woman, he was quite tall, “Would you be willing to show me the sites?”

Mary had been feeling the need for little excitement in her life, and here it was standing right in front of her.  He looked to be a gentleman from the city, perhaps a wealthy gentleman.  She was at first a little nervous but it was a beautiful day and she was feeling adventurous.

“I would love to give you a tour of the town.  My name is Mary.”

“And you can call me Aloysius.”

“That is quite an unusual name.”  She tried to hide her smile, unsuccessfully.  Then she thought that perhaps she had been impolite.

The gentleman in question simply chuckled out loud, “I was named after my father, by my mother.  It is quite a moniker.”  His smile deepened.  “It’s nice to be a little different.”

As the two walked through George’s Square they became more comfortable with each other.  He was a young gentleman well attired and well spoken.  She was a young girl, barely a woman with a girlish delight in being free.

We can’t know what was actually said when the two met but Mary kept a diary.  Years later it would be found and many of the questions surrounding their story would be answered.

Aloysius was indeed a gentleman.  Actually he was a gentleman’s gentleman.  He was in service in the city of Toronto.  Every Sunday he was given leave to pursue his own interests, whatever they may be.  Once he met Mary he spent every Sunday of that fateful summer in the small town of Oakville, on  the shores of Lake Ontario.  They would visit the strawberry market, walk along the shoreline and picnic under the trees.  Their friendship grew and over the many weeks so did their love.

During this time Mary’s father was under the impression that she was helping out at their local church.  As he was not one to attend services he never questioned her supposed attendance.  So he was completely unaware of the growing relationship between Mary and Aloysius.  He wasn’t the only one.  While they never intentionally hid themselves from Mary’s friends, they didn’t frequent areas that the others normally attended.  But eventually the summer ended and so did the steamship from Toronto.

“Mary I’m asking you to come back to Toronto with me.  You can live with my sister until the wedding.  I know I can find you work with the mistress of the house.  She is always looking for competent maids or perhaps a tutor for the children.”

Mary held the hands of the man she loved but she could not look him in the eye. “I have told my father nothing.  He doesn’t even know you exist.  I can’t just leave him”.

“Beloved I have to leave. This is the last boat of the season. I have no means to support myself here in Oakville.  I have a good life in Toronto.  We have talked about this.  Let me approach your father and ask for your hand in marriage. He must agree.”

Very slowly Mary withdrew her hands from the grip of the man she loved.  She still had not looked into his eyes.  “I will speak to my father and I will return here shortly.  The boat doesn’t leave for several hours. You must trust me.  I will return.”

Slowly Mary raised her head and looked deep into the eyes of the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.  Her hand touched his cheek gently, no words were necessary.  She smiled and left him waiting on the pier.

When Mary returned home her father wasn’t there.  She knew he sometimes went into the plant on Sundays so that is where she went.  It’s difficult to know what actually happened on that tragic day in Carson and Sons Planing Mill.  What we do know is that Mary died in there.  She may have fallen or she may have been struck down. No one knows or no one is speaking of it.

Mary’s father would not speak of that day except to say that there was an accident.  Aloysius waited on the pier but his beloved never showed and he didn’t know why.  He left on the last steamship of the summer.

The next year the steamships did not return to plying the waters near Oakville for passengers and Aloysius was unable to return to Mary.  He tried writing letters but they were never answered. Many years went by, Jacob mourned the loss of his daughter but he never spoke of it to anyone.  Some said they often found him sitting on a chair outside the Mill talking to himself.  It sounded as if he was talking to someone else but no one was nearby.  There are those who said he was talking to his daughter, or the spirit of his daughter.  Perhaps he was trying to atone for what had happened.  Jacob never said and he died the year the Mill was closed.

Aloysius eventually married.  He had three daughters, the last one he called Mary.  He was never a happy man; he rarely smiled and was never seen to laugh.  After many years of marriage his wife died and his daughters married and had children of their own.  In time Aloysius once again visited Oakville.  It had been a lifetime and the town was no longer sleepy anymore.  It was vibrant and alive.  Aloysius went back to the places that he and Mary had once known. The shoreline was much more built up and the main street had more stores. The house where Mary had once lived was gone. George’s Square was still there and the trees were bigger and lusher.  Aloysius sat on a bench and remembered how happy he had been so many years ago and he wondered if Mary was happy now.

It was dusk when a married couple out walking in the fresh autumn air noticed a well-dressed older man sitting on a park bench. When they returned from their constitutional the gentleman had not moved.  The man stopped to inquire if there was anything wrong.  That’s when he discovered that Aloysius had died.  He had died in the last place that he was happy.

There are those who say that on a warm summer night just about dusk if you’re very careful and very lucky you can see the misty outline of two people sitting on a park bench. One shape is that of a well-dressed gentleman, a young man and the other is of a very young woman with long dark hair.

Perhaps what they could not have while they lived, they found together in the mists of the spirit world.

 

************************************

This story was written for my Mother. For a few years she lived in a Retirement Residence built on the site of  Carson & Sons Planing Mill.