The Digger's Rest (48 page)

“
Take your umbrella, Simon. It’s
raining out and I don’t want you to catch a cold,” Mitch said
lovingly, looking back at him through his reflection in the mirror,
smiling.

Putting up his umbrella, Simon started
down the street away from the building then stopped, turning to
look back up at the window where he knew Mitch sat. Another song
came into his head, from a film with Sidney Poitier he saw late one
night in the common room of Holy Family after Mitch had first come
and he was feeling particularly hopeless and couldn’t sleep. Simon
began to hum, then sing, “…
a friend who
taught me right from wrong, and weak from strong, that's a lot to
learn. What, what can I give you in return? If you wanted the moon
I would try to make a start, but I would rather you let me give my
heart to Sir, with love.

“
Those awkward years have
hurried by, why did they fly, fly away? Why is it, Sir, children
grow up to be people one day? What takes the place of climbing
trees, and dirty knees, in the world outside? What, what is there
that I can buy? If you wanted the world, I'd surround it with a
wall, I'd scrawl these words with letters ten feet tall…to Sir,
with love.”

Chapter XXV

Le Petit Fils de France

Little Son of France

(December 24, 2006)

Two A.M. and she calls me 'cause I'm still
awake, "Can you help me unravel my latest mistake? I don't love
him. Winter just wasn't my season."

Breathe (2 AM.),

………
As performed by Anna
Nalick

“
Push, push!” the big bosomed midwife
urged authoritatively. “You must push, girl and breathe!” Soaked in
sweat, her long red hair matted to her forehead, Ivy Farthing
pushed, crying out in pain like she could have never imaged; a
fireball pushing its way out of her, tearing her guts out along the
way.

“
We’re almost there. I can see it now.
Just keep pushing,” Sandrine said, taking Ivy’s hand and squeezing
it tightly.

“
Just get it out of me,” Ivy screamed,
clamping her teeth, grinding them together with the one last push
she had in her after eight hours of excruciating pain. The midwife
and Sandrine changed positions. The midwife put her hands under the
sheet tent over Ivy’s knees, reaching in.

“
I’ve got it,” the midwife said,
looking at Sandrine and smiling, then to Ivy. “One more big push,
lassie and we’re done.” Ivy screamed, pushing as hard as she could
and felt it come out of her, sighing with relief to know she was
empty again.

There was the sharp sound of a slap and the
wail of a newborn child. Ivy’s heaving breath slowly started coming
back to normal as the midwife took the baby over to the sideboard
to clean it up and make sure everything was in order. Sandrine
stayed by Ivy’s side, wiping her head with a cool damp cloth.

When the midwife came back to the bed, she
had a tiny, blanket wrapped bundle in her arms. “What is it?” Ivy
asked, coolly.

“
Oh, ’e’s a beautiful little boy,” the
midwife said in her village’s accent, beaming proudly. “With lots
and lots of bright red hair.” Ivy groaned in disgust, turning her
head away. “Take it away. I don’t want to see it,” she said
ruefully.

“
But Ivy, he’s your son,” Sandrine
said, shocked at what seemed to be happening.

“
I don’t want it! I don’t want it! Just
take it away,” Ivy screamed, crying and turning to bury her head in
the pillow. “I don’t want it.” Sandrine looked at the midwife who
just shrugged, nodding with her head for Sandrine to come outside
as she left the room shaking her head, taking the baby with her.
Sandrine followed, bursting into tears as soon as the door was shut
behind her.

“
I knew this would happen. Ivy was
never meant to be a mother,” Malcolm said, pacing nervously over in
the corner of the hallway. He couldn’t help but hear her screaming
through the thin walls.

“
It’s not fair. It’s just not fair. His
father’s dead and his mother hates him. What’ll happen to him now?”
Sandrine cried. “The poor little thing has no home. What is wrong
with her? And he’s so beautiful. Who will love him?” she cried,
putting her head on the midwife’s shoulder.

“
I will,” Deck said from the corner of
the hall.

“
I will, too,” Malcolm said, his hair
grown longer to cover the scar, and put his arm around his
brother.

Sandrine turned away from the midwife and
walked over to them. Jed was sitting in a chair, holding his head
in his hands. He looked up into her searching eyes and nodded.

“
Yes, I will, too.”

***

“
Bonjour, Madame,” the old immigration
officer at Orly Airport in Paris said, smiling as he took the
passport the woman had just handed him. “Bonjour, Monsieur,” he
nodded to the young man next to her. Suddenly, his eyes took on a
new brightness as he looked at the passport.

“
Ah. Welcome home, Madame Farthing. You
have been away a long time. Your country has missed you,” he said
to Sandrine in French.

“
Oui, and I have missed it, very much,”
she said back to him, glad to be speaking her own language again,
her eyes filling with tears.

The old immigration officer took the passport
from the man standing next to her. “Bonjour, Monsieur Austrailien,”
he said to Jed with a slight sneer, then reached over to peek into
the little blue blanket the woman held so delicately in her arms as
she handed him another passport.

“
Ah bonjour, ma petit fils de France,
Monsieur Bram Farthing,” he said looking at the passport, nodding
and smiling at the baby boy with a head full of bright red hair.
“He will be raised a good son of France, n’est pas?” the old
inspector asked, looking up at Sandrine.

She looked at Jed for the answer. Seeing the
love in her eyes that she had for both of them, he just nodded. He
loved them both so much; she could have whatever she wanted, all
that mattered was that she was happy and that he could be near
them, wherever it was.

Sandrine looked back to the old inspector,
her face radiant. “Oui, he will be raised a good son of France,
Monsieur,” she said, the pride of new motherhood and returning home
for good seeming to make her glow.

“
Tres bon! Felicitations,” the old
inspector said with a twinkle in his eye as he stamped their
passports. “Welcome home, ma petit fils de France,” he said, taking
one last look at the child and handing the passports back to Jed as
they passed through the gate.

Outside the immigration post, Jed walked
Sandrine and the baby over to a bank of seats along the exit wall.
“You rest here. I’ll go get the bags and some carts and be right
back, okay?” he said, leaning over to kiss her before heading down
the baggage claim ramp.

Sandrine was tired. The long journey to
London, then the flight to Paris combined with all the excitement
of coming home with her new baby was taking its toll. She sat down
with a sigh, looking down into the opening in the little blue
blanket. The baby’s eyes were open, turned up at the ends and such
a beautiful green; his father’s eyes.

“
What a beautiful little boy,” Sandrine
heard in an American accent come from the seat beside her. She
looked up. A young girl dressed in retro style hippy clothes was
sitting beside her smiling, long dark brown hair and beautiful
green eyes; strangely familiar.

“
Yes, he is. Thank you. But I guess all
mother’s think their babies are beautiful,” Sandrine said
shyly.

“
Is he your first?” the girl
asked.

“
Yes, and to tell you the truth, I’m a
little nervous. I want more than anything to be a good mother,”
Sandrine replied, blushing to think she could feel so open with a
stranger.

“
Well, don’t you worry a bit. You’re
going to be a wonderful mother,” the girl said confidently, peeking
again into the little blue blanket then looking back up to
Sandrine.

“
Do you really think so?” Sandrine
asked, a sense of peace washing over her with the comfort she got
from the girl’s words.

“
Yes, I’m sure of it. You have home in
your heart. I can tell, and that’s all that really matters,” the
girl said touching Sandrine’s face lovingly.

“
Sandrine, who are you talking to?”
Jed’s voice came from her other side. She turned toward
him.

“
This nice girl…” Sandrine said turning
back to the seat next to her.

“
What girl?” Jed said, looking at the
empty seat.

The End

Simon’s Song

We'll do it all Everything On our own We
don't need Anything Or anyone

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you
lie with me and just forget the world?

I don't quite know How to say How I feel
Those three words Are said too much They're not enough

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you
lie with me and just forget the world? Forget what we're told
Before we get too old Show me a garden that's bursting into
life

Let's waste time Chasing cars Around our
heads I need your grace To remind me To find my own

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you
lie with me and just forget the world?

Forget what we're told Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life

All that I am All that I ever was Is here in
your perfect eyes, they're all that I can see I don't know where
Confused about how as well Just know that these things will never
change for us at all

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you
lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars,

As performed by Snow Patrol (2007)

Jack’s Song

Good night my angel time to close your eyes
And save these questions for another day I think I know what you've
been asking me I think you know what I've been trying to say

I promised I would never leave you And you
should always know Where ever you may go No matter where you are I
never will be far away

Good night my angel now it's time to sleep
And still so many things I want to say Remember all the songs you
sang for me When we went sailing on an emerald bay

And like a boat out on the ocean I'm rocking
you to sleep The water's dark and deep Inside this ancient heart
You'll always be a part of me

Goodnight my angel now it's time to dream
And dream how wonderful your life will be Someday your child will
cry and if you sing this lullaby Then in your heart there will
always be a part of me

Someday we'll all be gone But lullabies go
on and on They never die that's how you and I will be.

Lullaby (Goodnight My Angel),

As performed by Billy Joel

Mitch’s Song

Time, time, time, see what's become of me
While I looked around For my possibilities I was so hard to please
But look around, leaves are brown And the sky is a hazy shade of
winter Hear the Salvation Army Band Down by the riverside, it's
bound to be a better ride Than what you've got planned Carry your
cup in your hand And look around, leaves are brown now And the sky
is a hazy shade of winter Hang on to your hopes, my friend That's
an easy thing to say, but if your hope should pass away It's simply
pretend That you can build them again Look around, the grass is
high The fields are ripe, it's the springtime of my life Ahhh,
seasons change with the scenery Weaving time in a tapestry Won't
you stop and remember me (At any convenient time Funny how my
memory slips while looking over manuscripts Of unpublished rhyme
Drinking my vodka and lime) I look around, leaves are brown now And
the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Look around, leaves are brown There's a
patch of snow on the ground...

Hazy Shade of Winter,

written by Paul Simon (1972)

as performed by the Bangles (1987)

COMPANY

I spent 20 years tryin' to get out of this
place I was looking for something I couldn't replace I was running
away from the only thing I've ever known And like a blind dog
without a bone I was a gypsy lost in the twilight zone I hijacked a
rainbow and crashed into a pot of gold I've been there, done that,
I ain't looking back The seeds I've sown, saving dimes, spending
too much time on the telephone... Who Says You Can't Go Home Who
Says You Can't Go Home There's only one place that calls me one of
their own Just a hometown boy, born a rolling stone, Who Says You
Can't Go Home Who Says You Can't Go Back Been all around the world
and that's a matter of fact There's only one place left I want to
go Who Says You Can't Go Home It's alright, it's alright, it's
alright, it's alright, it's alright I went as far as I could, I
tried to find a new face There isn't one of these lines that I
would erase I left a million miles of memories on that road And
every step I take I know that I'm not alone You take the home from
the boy, but not the boy from his home These are my streets, the
only life I've ever know Who Says You Can't Go Home I've been
there, done that, I ain't looking back It's been a long, long road
Feels like I've never left, that's how the story goes It doesn't
matter where you are Doesn't matter where you go If it's a million
miles away or just a mile up the road Take it in, take it with you
when you go Who Says You Can't Go Home