Page 36 of The Woodcarver's Model
“So, what can I do for you?” Sheila asked. “You don’t seem to have any injured animals on you, unless there’s one in your car.”
“No, I’ve come burdened with questions, not injured kittens. Rob Hanson,” he said, extending his hand.
“I remember you. Taking pictures, as I recall.”
“Yeah. Just down the road where you kindly didn’t run me down. Then later in the cemetery. An appropriate reminder of what can happen if I don’t pay attention. I’m writing a piece on Marsh Island for a magazine. Mitch Carcross told me that you’re the go-to person when it comes to local history.”
“Well, most of the local history is my family’s history, so I guess I am.”
“Do you have a minute to talk? I like to put things in a historical context and there’s really not much written about the island.”
“No, I don’t suppose there is,” she agreed.
“You can check with Mitch if you’re looking for references.”
“No, Mitch has already vouched for you by taking you in.”
“Oh?” Rob looked surprised.
“Word spreads fast on a small island. Especially when it concerns one of our favourite sons.” She looked him in the eye for a moment. “I sense that you came to this island searching for one thing and found something more than you expected.”
“You can say that again.”
“I’m glad. So, how long will you be staying with us?”
Rob smiled. “Why do I have a feeling that I’m the one being interviewed instead of the other way around?”
“Oh, I’ve only just begun.”
Sheila headed back into the clinic. Rob wasn’t sure if he was meant to follow until she held the door for him. “Are you coming?”
She poured them both coffees and settled into one of the waiting room chairs.Not comfortable enough to encourage a long stay,Rob thought.
“So, what do you want to know?” Sheila asked.
To Rob’s surprise, they talked for the better part of two hours. For such a small island, it had enough history for a book, let alone an article. Rob took several pages of notes.
“I like that you’re old school. No recorder, no videoing with your phone,” she said.
“I prefer to listen and try to understand. I trust my brain more than a machine. Technology has a bad habit of failing you at the worst possible time.”
“Trust is an important trait, whether in people or equipment.”
He sensed she was going somewhere with this.
“Can I be honest with you?” she asked. “More to the point, can I trust you with something? Trust you to keep it to yourself?”
“I can’t promise not to write something if I don’t know what it is.”
“Oh, it has nothing to do with your article. Or I hope it doesn’t. It has to do with Mitch.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve seen you together. I can tell you’re smitten,” she said. Rob looked at her, not wanting to give too much away. “I saw the two of you in action at Maggie’s Solstice Day party. Don’t worry. As I recall, at my first party, I had to be removed from a tree that I was deep in conversation with.” She looked deeply into his eyes for a moment. “What do you know of Mitch’s time before he came to the island?”
Rob weighed his words carefully. “I knew him as a kid. I was best friends with his brother. After I’d finished college, I had some personal issues to deal with and we all went our separate ways. Until we met here.”
“What I’m going to tell you, I do, not as a gossip, but because I love that boy as a son. Swear you’ll keep it to yourself.”
