Sunday, Nov. 24th, 2002

2002

Sunday, Nov. 24th. Rainy morning. I woke up feeling a little ill. Mary was in the kitchen making tea when I came downstairs. She suggested that we walk the dogs, as T was still sleeping and the fresh air might help my aching head. The wind nipped at our coats as soon as we set outside and the rain pounded down on our heads mercilessly. My hair sticking to my face, we trudged through the field and onto Seaforth Road. The houses on either side sheltered us slightly from the gales. M suggested that we try to cut through the path on Inverness Crescent when we reached it, so we could circle back home faster. She looked disheveled from the dogs seemed anxious to get back into the warmth as well. We headed towards Inverness. I had not been down this road for some time. The autumn had been mild in the beginning so many leaves still hung from the rows of maple lining the street. Despite the overwhelming grey of the morning, their oranges, yellows, and burgundies stood out admirably, though shaking in the wind. We reached the path and discovered that the damp had turned it into mud. We changed our course again and headed towards Indian Road. The wind became stronger and rain poured heavily in thick sheets, soaking us through our jackets. As the old house came into view, a thin plastic flower pot came across our path. M recognized it as belonging to Sue Rogers and thought we should return it, despite the detour prolonging our sodden journey. Sue thanked us, insisting that we come in. The house was eerily quiet without the usual sounds of her children screaming or laughing through the house. Her features were greying- heavy circles beneath her red, dry eyes. She commented on her own appearance explaining "Robert left last week." Her voice cracked at the recollection and M moved a still damp hand onto her back. "The girls have gone with him for the weekend. I don't know what's going to happen with them yet." She turned her eyes to the ground. I could almost feel them stinging and blurring. "Without Robert I can't afford to keep the house." As M and I talked with Mrs. Rogers calm came to the outside and we regretfully excused ourselves to take advantage of the break in the storm. The streets were now jarringly quiet. Indian Road seemed to echo our footsteps and I remembered the times I had spent playing with S and K and the Rogers girls on the sidewalks and in the little field. The rain held off until we reached the warmth of our house again. The smell of coffee, reassuringly stung my nose as we came in and I knew that T was awake. I forgot a particularly fine sight that we found on McMahon Avenue. The row of evergreens at the side of the yard, which last summer looked sickly, have regained some of their splendour. One stands feet above the others and though the wind swayed them all, their Kelly colour stood out strongly, marking the edge of our yard.

--R.E.