Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1916-07-28

Gerrys. He fell into so deep a reverie
that Gerry thought he was asleep.
Gerry got up and walked around the
room. His eye fell on the table. He
saw what the Barbadian had written;
simply the date Of the day. But above
the freshly written date showed an
other, filmed over with dust, and above
that another almost obliterated. Gerry
leaned over the table. He could see
that a long succession of dates had
been written into the thick-laid dust.
Beginning with the fresh numerals
staring up at him they reached back
and back through the years till they
faded away into dim past.
Gerry tiptoed out on to the veranda.
Before him was a ruined lawn; in it's
center cracked, dry, marble fountain.
Off to one side was giant plane tree.
From one Of it's limbs hung two frayed
ropes. Against it's trunk leaned a
weather-beaten swing-bOard. Under
the ropes, wisp Of path still showed,
beaten hard in a bygOne day by the
feet Of children. Beyond the lawn
stretched wide huHfmocky cane fields.
They were abandoned save for little
patches of cane here and there,
punched up against little hen-coop
houses.
Got home, boy?"
Gerry turned and found the Barba-
dian standing beside him. "a home"
he answered, his thoughts flying to
Red Hill, Il should think 1 have and
it's a Ii" Gerry caught himself but
not in time.
The Barbadian nodded slowly. 81
know" he said, you were going to say
it's live one. Well, as to that, don't
you make mistake. This home is
alive too-just exactly as alive as
am, for I'm the last of the Barbados
Malcolms.
Home" he went on, "isn't alto
gether a matter of cash, comfort and
cool drinks. Sometimes it's just a
gathering place for memories.
There was a time when we whites
stood fifteen to one over the blacks on
this island. Now the tables are turned.
A chap that only takes a drink every
time he sees a white man would have
; to go to mass meeting to get drunk.
Lately they've been sending out
scientific commissions from England
to sit like coroners on this mound in
the sea. They say they're going to
hrin hn ha tn
offered a big price for this old place
but I'm not selling"
Gerry looked at the Barbadians
rather shabby clothes. "Why don't
! you sell if you don't want to work the
place? It's worth money. 1 know
enough to tell you that"
The Barbadian rested one hand high
on the thick trunk of a wistaria. A
slow smile drew the corners of his
mouth. Worth money!" he echoed
"My boy, not every man kills the thing
that he loves best. This is my home
You read those dates written in dust
and still you thought my home was
dead. But is isn't dead. l haven
killed the thing that love best. Yor
can get cash. comfort and cool drinks
almost anywhere, but l have remem
bered that memories travel only beat
| en- paths"
Even as Gerry picked his way bach
to the waiting cab he felt Red Hill
reaching out for him, drawing him
I And during the long, slow drive to the
| quay he learned that he had passed the
! crossroads that had given so long {
pause to his troubled soul. The Bar
badlan had opened his eyes. Doub
| left him. There was but one road-th'
| road back-and it was open. He wrot,
! his cable to Alix with firm hand.
The freighter reached quarantin,
/ after a quiet voyage twelve hours
I ahead of time and just at shutdown
| A tug hurried down the bay to tel
| them their berth was not ready. TIL,
/ freighter was forced to anchor at tn,
mouth of the narrows. Gerry watched
4 the lights spring out from the shadow,
shores. They beckoned him to familia
t scenes. Staten Island had been to hi
e boyhood an undiscovered land and tn,
t. scene of his first wanderings Bay
u shore he knew through constant pass
ing by. In the sky beyond 1t, hung tn,
n glow Of the summer city, here ant
It there pierced with the brighter fam
g of some grotesque monstrosity.
G Up the bay the dark waters forke,
e into two bands that lost themselves II
If sea and sky of twinkllng lights. FL
1t could just determine the sweeping arc
of Brooklyn bridge and the presence 0
e more than one new Tower of Babe
r that broke the ever-changing skylin
l. of his native city and made him fee
It by that much, forgotten and an alien
e But from all the myriad lesser light
r his eyes turned gratefully to the high
a held torch of Liberty. Beneath it, tn
If familiar, tilted diadem, the shadow,
II folds draping the outstanding pose
a the strength and steadfastness and tn
titanic grandeur of the statue, carries
d their message to him as never before
Re 1t became to him what Its creator ha
ID conceived, an emblem, and the myrla