The Serial: Far From the Rowan Tree Day 74

Perhaps, in some ways, they were too alike but now there was a change in the atmosphere. One of mutual respect – the fight was over

We waited anxiously for the next phone call. It came next day. It was Eileen on the line. “We’re back in Vancouver. We’ve got father home,” she said. “He’d made a remarkable recovery by the time we got to the hospital at Los Angeles. We were allowed to move him and bring him back here.

“We managed to get him on a plane. He’s still seriously ill. His life still hangs in the balance. Can you manage over?” “I’ll arrange it,” Ronald said. “Let you know.” The money hadn’t come through for the Dacres’ acreage yet. Our finances were rock bottom.

Without the slightest hesitation Henry said: ‘’I’ll lend you the money to go. I’ve managed to save a bit since buying the Pontiac.”

Henry drove Ronald to the airport at Leduc in time to catch the 1pm flight for Vancouver. About three in the afternoon the phone rang. I lifted the receiver.

It was Ronald. I didn’t wait for him to speak. “You’ve arrived safely. How’s things?”

“No I haven’t,” he said. “I’m back at Leduc airport.” Explanation “Back at Leduc airport?” I waited for an explanation. “Something wrong with the plane. We couldn’t make it over the Rockies. The captain told us an engine had conked out.

“A French girl sitting beside me screamed. She had come from Toronto. ‘Not another one?’ she said. The air hostess went into hysterics.

“It was awful but we made it back. They’re going to put on another flight, another plane. What do you think I should do?”

Ronald was a brave man and faced most situations calmly.

He had been through a war and had been on ships when they were sweeping minefields but I knew that the one thing that unnerved him was flying. He must now be very shaken.

“It just couldn’t make it over the Rockies,” he repeated. “I kept thinking of these jagged peaks.” I had to think fast.

“Oh Ron, I know how it must be for you but I think you should go. You know how you would feel if anything happened to your dad and you weren’t there.

“The risk of anything being wrong with a different plane is very small. It would be strange indeed if they had trouble with another plane on the same day.”

“Thanks, I just needed your reassurance. I’ll phone when I get there.”

It was three days before Ronald arrived back. He was to be at Leduc airport at first light and wondered if Henry would come and collect him.

I knew that would be no problem. I very much wanted to be there too, so I got Janet, one of Jean Nibyforuk’s daughters, to baby sit and stay overnight.

I don’t remember much about the run down to Leduc but I do remember vividly watching the plane taxi-ing to a halt in the half light.

When the door of the plane opened and the steel steps were in place, Ronald was one of the first to emerge. Cheerful He was carrying a huge bunch of flowers. He looked bright and cheerful. Spring had come over the mountains. He was very glad to see us.

He handed me the flowers giving me a big hug and shook Henry warmly by the hand, thanking him for making his journey possible.

He told us that spring was in Vancouver. It still looked, this frozen morning, as if it would never come here. He also brought with him fresh fish.

Apart from those caught in the lake at Nakamun we hadn’t tasted fresh fish since coming to Alberta.

We were a thousand miles and a vast mountain range from the sea. He told us how good it was to see the sea again.

The news of his father was that of improvement. He was recuperating well at Eileen’s and she told us that he was coming to see us in a month if things went according to plan.

Spring came on us in a rush as it always did in Alberta. The ice rinks melted in the gardens and in the evenings men and women were busy planting seeds that would shoot up at incredible speed.

In our area vegetables were of more importance than flowers. In the lakes round Edmonton and all over Alberta, the thick ice was breaking up.

I loved to hear the deep booming and the cannon shots of cracking ice which signalled that winter had been brought to an end.

The golden orioles were back nesting in the woods and the incredible bluebirds back decorating the air above the prairie.

Father-in-law came – what a joy to see someone from home. I had always got on reasonably well with the “old man” as Ronald called him. I found him generous and obstinate.

The quarrel had always been between father and son. Perhaps, in some ways, they were too alike but now there was a change in the atmosphere. One of mutual respect – the fight was over.

Perhaps, in a subtle way, it had been a fight for supremacy but now the “old man” was facing only a few more years of life.

“Three more years at the most and only if you’re careful,” Ronald’s father had been told when he asked the doctor in Vancouver to tell him the truth. Fortitude Whatever it was, the atmosphere was different between the two – the weather had changed.

Coming to Canada with a wife and family, coping with all the difficulties, asking no one for help, had been the chief factor in this new respect for son by father.

Not even Ronald’s bravery during the war had earned it. That was considered to be just doing his duty like his father had done before him.

Fortitude in everyday life was what the old man admired – this backbone so revered by Scots.

Before we left Scotland, Ronald’s father had vowed he would never retire from the farm, of which he had the life rent.

Now he had come over to tell us he was retiring – he wanted to retire. The farm had belonged to Ronald’s mother.

She had left it to Ronald, her only son, at the end of the day or whenever the father decided to give up. It was Ronald’s now. (More tomorrow.)