All We Left Behind

‘Unless I slip and fall overboard, they’re going to be waiting an awfully long time.’

‘Showing off some muscle could be good for business.’ With a chuckle he shoved me over the railing into the water.

When I surfaced and pushed my hair back from my face, both my father and Massey doubled over in laughter. The group of girls were also thoroughly amused. I pulled myself back onto the boat, but I wasn’t interested in showing off for anyone other than Chidori, so I left my soaking wet shirt on out of principle. And defiance. Massey’s big palm slapped my shoulder again to josh me. I ignored the goading and got to work.

The hull was filled and overflowing onto the deck with crushed ice and hundreds of salmon. I rolled my sleeves and hooked the thick and slick fish with a pike pole, then threw them to Massey one at a time. In a perfectly timed rhythm, he turned and chucked them at my father, who laid them out on a long, ice-covered wood sales plank on the dockside of the boat. Eventually the load in the hull lowered enough that I had to drop down the hatch into the marine cold storage to toss up the rest.

Even without seeing me working shirtless, customers enthusiastically scooped up the fish and passed over their fists-full of money until the hull was completely empty two hours later. About a dozen folks at the end of the line had to go home empty-handed and disappointed.

I reached up over my head and pulled myself out of the hull, smelling like salt and seaweed. And shivering from working on the ice in wet clothes. Massey removed his gloves and tossed my father a cola bottle as I stepped into the warm sunshine. He was about to toss me one too, but I waved him off. ‘I can’t stay.’

‘You got a date?’ Massey teased.

‘I’m working on it,’ I said.

The humour faded from his expression as he nodded and took a sip of the cola. Then he glanced at me with some sort of knowingness or cautionary tale.

‘What?’ I asked as my gaze shifted back and forth between him and my father.

Massey shrugged but didn’t say anything. He was like that – wise with both life experience and book smarts, but he never lectured or imposed his opinions. In fact, he was unintrusive to an annoying degree. One time, when I was about fourteen years old, I had loaded up a skiff with engine parts for his boat and the whole damn thing sank. Massey knew it was too much weight but didn’t stop me. He just sat there and watched the ordeal happen without saying a word. I was so hot under the collar. Partly because I’d have to buy him another engine pump. Partly because I didn’t know how I was going to get the skiff and the other parts off the bottom of the ocean. But mostly I was mad because – if he had just said something – he could have saved me all the trouble. He claimed that telling me the answers didn’t help me learn, making mistakes did. Then he chuckled at how fuming angry I was, which sent me into a rage. I had to walk away and didn’t go back to salvage the skiff for a week. They were both thoroughly entertained that day too, but at least they helped me winch everything out of the water.

Massey’s hands-off teaching philosophy didn’t sit well with me then, and I still didn’t agree with his methods. Probably because I was too hot-tempered for his learn-the-hard-way lessons. But admittedly I never overloaded a skiff again.

Despite obviously having an opinion about my dating endeavours with his niece, he wasn’t going to tell me what he thought. I studied his expression for another few seconds to see if it would reveal any clues about what lesson he thought I should be aware of. All he did was flick his eyebrows and hand me my cash earnings for the day, so I hopped over the railing to head over to Chidori’s house. ‘It’s been a blast. See you all later.’

Chapter 7

In the morning, the kind German nurse brought a tray with a bun and a small piece of cheese to my cot. The name written on her badge was I. Gottschalk. I didn’t know what the I stood for, but I called her Inga and she responded. She smiled warmly, then took trays to the other fellows in the hospital dormitory. The Canadian pilot on the cot next to me was awake.

‘Bonjour,’ he said and bit into his bun.

‘Hi.’

‘Est-ce que tu parles français?’

‘No, sorry.’

‘Is okay. Is easier for me with the French. But I speak English. Un peu. You have a terror in the night I think.’

It was mildly embarrassing that everyone likely heard my nightmare startle me awake, but there was nothing I could do about that. ‘Sorry if I disturbed you.’

‘Is okay. We all have had the terrors.’ He pointed at my feet. ‘You are burned?’

‘Yes. How about you?’ I asked before I took a sip of water.

He pulled down the shoulder of his hospital gown and revealed a chest injury covered in dressing. ‘Impaled when …’ he whistled and used his hand to pantomime jumping out of an airplane.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Michel. From Montreal. And you?’ He leaned over to shake my hand.

‘Hayden. I’m from Mayne Island in British Columbia. How long have you been here?’

‘Three weeks.’ He glanced at the door where a guard stood, then lowered his voice, ‘I will be trying for staying a long time because is no good to be in the camp for prisoners I think.’

‘Have you heard what to expect?’

‘No, but the head nurse tries to be keeping us here for a long time. She has compassion. She must be knowing it is no good.’

I nodded and took an inventory of the other patients in the dormitory. Mostly British airmen, three American flyboys and at least fifteen other Canadians besides Michel and me. One fellow was in a coma and probably wasn’t going to make it. One fellow had a broken leg and one was burned like me. His burns were worse – his eyes and nose were melted into a disfigured blob. The dormitory reeked rancid like rotting flesh. The nurses had tried to cover up the putridness with bleach, but it lingered.

‘You are not eating the petit dejeuner?’ Michel asked.

‘No. You can have it.’

He wiggled his eyebrows eagerly and reached over to grab the bun and cheese off my tray.

Conversation with Michel was welcomed but I missed Gordie already. It was strange to be in a dormitory full of soldiers and not have the big man right next to me. Gordie Calhoon, Frank Owens and I had all met on the first day of our eight weeks of Elementary Flying Training with the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan in Regina, Saskatchewan. We called our flight training The Plan for short, and it instructed us in basic aviation. Gordie was a grizzly bear of a fellow you would like to have on your side in a street fight. Frank was a hornet, who would likely get you messed up in the street fight in the first place. The three of us became instant pals and sat next to each other during classroom lessons and at meals in the mess hall.

The first week we were at The Plan, their wives sent baked goods that made me miss home something fierce.

‘You want one?’ Frank had asked.

‘Sure,’ I said, and reached to take a shortbread biscuit.

‘His wife can’t bake worth stink. You should probably stick to my wife’s ginger snaps,’ Gordie teased Frank and held out the tin to share with me.

‘I’ll try them both and decide which is better for myself.’ I bit into each cookie and grinned. ‘I think I’ll need to try some more before I can make my final decision.’

‘No way. One’s all you’re getting unless you cough up something in exchange.’ Gordie leaned back on his bunk and ate another cookie.

‘I only received a letter from my sister.’

Gordie stole the letter, but we were interrupted when the chief ground instructor, who was the equivalent to a headmaster at a boarding school, marched into the bunkhouse, barking commands for an inspection. We all jumped to our feet and stored the letters and cookies out of sight.

‘Hayden, pal, have you seen my cap?’

‘It’s on your head, Frank.’

‘Right.’ He grinned and loped over to the end of his bunk. We all stood tall with our chests forward as the officer poked around and made us fix things that weren’t up to scratch. I didn’t have any corrections because I was a quick learner when it came to things like that.

‘What does your sister look like?’ Gordie asked me once the inspection was over and we were lounged on our bunks again. He had read her letter for a second time. ‘She seems smart. I’m particularly fond of clever gals. If she’s a looker, I might want to take her out on the town sometime.’

‘You’re married,’ I reminded him.

‘Yeah, yeah, do you have a photo or not?’

I handed over a picture of Rosalyn and me standing at Bennett Bay.

‘Sweet Jesus! Is she single?’

‘Never mind.’ I threw a rolled sock at him. ‘She probably wouldn’t take very kindly to you being married anyway.’

‘Hey everybody! Come take a look at Pierce’s sister.’

The boys all gathered around and whistled. I leaned over and snatched the photo back from Gordie. ‘Keep dreaming, fellas.’

‘Do you have a photo of your sweetheart, too?’ Frank asked me.

‘I’m not showing you that. Go drool over the picture of your own wife.’

‘She ain’t nothing to drool at,’ Gordie joked, which made Frank jump over the bunk and wrench Gordie into a headlock. Gordie was nearly twice the size of Frank, so he messed with him like he was playing with his kid brother.

We laughed a lot in those early days. Unfortunately, it didn’t last.

Regina was not the biggest city, but it got pretty rowdy at night because there were so many recruits. One Saturday night, we were all excited for an evening off and a bunch of us crammed into a borrowed car to go to a local dance hall in town. The party was packed with men in uniform and a whole score of ladies drinking and dancing to a big band orchestra. We sat down at a table and Gordie ordered three beers. Frank took his bottle of O’Keefe with him and went off to ask a gal to dance.

‘So, where in BC are you from, Pierce?’ Gordie asked.

‘Mayne Island. It’s just off the coast between Vancouver and Victoria. How about you? What part of Manitoba are you from?’

‘Winnipeg, but I’ve been living here in Regina on and off for a while because I played football professionally.’

‘Oh, well, la-dee-da. I didn’t know I was in the company of a celebrity.’

‘I ain’t no movie star, but stick with me, kid, and the ladies will treat you real nice.’

Just as he had said that, two young women in tight sweaters walked up to our table and stood with their elbows resting on either side of Gordie’s broad shoulders. One was a freckled redhead, and the other had blond hair wrapped in a braided bun at the base of her neck. ‘Hi there, Gordie. Who’s your handsome friend?’ Her hand slid over my arm.

‘This, ladies, is Hayden Pierce. And word on the street is that this cat is a smooth dancer.’

I shook my head to deny it and my cheeks heated up.

‘Oh, he’s a sweet one,’ the blond one said and held out her hand to shake mine. ‘I’m Isabel. Nice to meet you.’

I nodded, then shook the other woman’s hand.

‘I’m Bernice.’ I stared for too long because her eyes were golden-brown like a fawn’s and her lashes were long enough to nearly touch her cheek when she blinked. They were both from Regina, which is why they already knew Gordie. And they were working with the Canadian Forces on electronics and instrument assembly, so they knew more about what we could expect from our training than we did. ‘Would you care to dance, Hayden?’ Bernice asked after we had chatted for a while.

I was thrown off by a gal so bold as to ask a fellow to dance. ‘Oh, thank you, but my heart belongs to someone else.’

All three of them laughed at my naiveté.

‘Honey, nearly everyone here has a fiancé, a spouse, or a sweetheart back home. It’s just dancing.’

‘Go ahead, kid.’ Gordie pushed my shoulder to make me fall off the stool. ‘Show’em how it’s done on the west coast.’

Bernice bounced over and pulled my hand to drag me out onto the dance floor. She pleaded with those big brown eyes and, since the band was playing a song I liked, I caved in and placed my hand on her waist to start to swing with her. She was a swell dancer and she smelled of soap mixed with vanilla extract, which was a welcome change from a barrack full of men. I relaxed after about three songs and Bernice said, ‘Ah, there it is. A little smile. You look even more handsome when you smile.’ She jitterbugged around in a circle by herself before grabbing both my hands to make me swing with her again. I was having a dandy time until she leaned in and shouted over the music, ‘So, where is your sweetheart at?’

The reminder filled me with instant and aching guilt. I stopped dancing abruptly, excused myself, and walked off the dance floor, leaving Bernice behind.

Gordie was still talking to Isabel at the table, but he sent her away when I sat down, visibly downtrodden. ‘What’s wrong, pal?’ he asked.

‘Nothing.’

He slapped my shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, being away from home gets easier with time. Do you have a picture of the girl you’re sweet on?’

I reached into the chest pocket of my serge and pulled out Chidori’s picture. He frowned at it for a moment, then gave it back to me. I tucked it away, leaned my elbows on the table to hang my head, and sighed.

‘You fell in love with a Jap?’

His judgemental tone, my longing to go home, and my bitter resentment over what had happened to Chidori all collided and provoked me to irrationally erupt. Without even thinking, I stood and punched Gordie in the jaw as hard as I could, which knocked him backwards off the stool. He sprawled across the floor and his lights were out for a second before he recovered. A crowd inched closer, keen to see what was going to happen next. Already committed to what I had impetuously started, I prepared my stance for him to charge at me in retaliation. He didn’t, thankfully, since he was bigger and stronger than I was. He stood, righted the stool and took a swig from his ale. ‘Nice shot, Pierce. Most fellas can’t knock me out.’

I frowned at him, confused. ‘You’re not sore with me?’

He laughed and adjusted his jaw to make sure it was still connected properly. ‘I didn’t say that. But it was impressive.’ He was clearly sore with me but chose to be the better man and walked over to ask Isabel to dance.

Ashamed that I had lost my cool with him, I left the dance hall alone. As I headed back to the base with a throbbing hand, I considered going AWOL. I missed my bed. I missed my dog. And I was worried that maybe my mother had been right. What if all I was going to accomplish by running off to war was to get myself killed? The streets of Regina were pretty much abandoned at that time of night. Hopping a train would have been easy. And it wasn’t exactly deserting since I had volunteered.

I definitely would have taken off that night if I’d actually known where in the world Chidori was.

23 August 1941

Dear Diary,

Tosh and Kenji are out in the yard sawing and splitting the fir tree that was uprooted in the terrible windstorm we had in early spring. The root ball that tore out of the ground is four times taller than they are. It must have been a very old tree. Fortunately, it fell between the house and greenhouses, only crushing a small tool shed. I’m curious why after centuries of standing tall it could not endure one more storm. It was healthy and its roots were deep. The gale force must have been a direct hit that proved too powerful for even the most stoic giant of the forest. Well, the bright side I suppose is that they already have a cord of firewood that will keep us toasty warm in the winter, and they are nowhere near done yet.

I am grateful they are both home. Before Kenji moved to Vancouver to live with Tosh near the university campus, I hadn’t appreciated how much I truly adored having my brothers around. It wasn’t until after they were both gone and the house was deafeningly quiet that I realized I had taken their importance in my life for granted. Thankfully, I still had Hayden to make me laugh. I’m waiting for him right now. I hesitate to write down what wonderful happening I hope for on our walk because I do not want to jinx my chances. I will say that I have changed into a dress that I know is one of Hayden’s favourites, and I have a flutter in my chest from the suspense.

Chi

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